October 2019- My reruns ran me over in retreads
Recycled from October 2014 in redux
The day had been the kind of grey
that elected itself spokesman
for the afternoon.
The voice chilled with a certain
knowledge of pale blue diluted
into a chilly white that promised lassitude.
The voice is saying the seasons
are in collision and we are in the locking in.
Fall has spent weeks gathering on the ground
and Winter as of yet is disinterested
in the whole business
refuses to go to work
so the ground shuffles the leaves like
a card shark ready to
deal ice cube deuces for your hand.
The time of the mask comes and goes.
So the night fills and drains costumes.
Stalking Quick Bank; Celebrity hero murderers,
Syntax gender victims seeking damages; Purple
suited stunt person blubbering compassion and
politeness; decapitated rock stars, mutilated
millionaire ex-cheerleaders and just plain folks
caught in the crossfire, carjacking drive-by
random acts of brutal insanity of choice or chance.
Legions of green, yellow, red, black and white
three foot high grunting kicking punching power
midgets morphing into respected connected influential
public officials and politicians that are shaping the
course of personal liberty in your lives.
The traditional allotment of vampires, ghouls, demons
and blood thirsty fetus snatching liberal aliens.
What freedom the night affords.
All the secretaries become waitresses, the waitresses
begot actresses, the actresses begot whores, the whores
begot Raggedy Ann princesses, who begot
gypsies and then as the dawn breaks they all turn back to
The great hangover of our self-deception on
all souls night.
I watched you swim the twilight
while the trees are stripped of their delicate garments.
You are swallowing the dusk in buckets
drowning in a swirl of mad flight as the undertow of
the wind sucks and pushes brittle leaves dragging
their finger nails along the sidewalk.
On the way home, I’ll buy you a pumpkin
and we can carve a face into it and take turns
guessing whose it is.
Another Rubber Eden 92
Taken out in the American Trash
1471 1st Ave. NYC
I was standing at the urinal
in the Men’s room in American Trash
and the devil strolled in and positioned
himself next to me and unzipped
and I glanced over and said
Long time no see
How’s the old demon tonight?
He coolly regarded me in the mirrors
reflection in the mortal image in front of us
and corrected me saying,
That’s Lucifer to you son.
He asked me what I was supposed to be
A beat writer I replied
vanishing in a plume of fire and brimstone.
And I thought,
So I retreat back into the barroom of humorless costumes
as the night of masks passed with a the dead captain singing
with a ring toss dildo attached to his loins
that love won’t keep us together
when Bad Barbie strolled in
still in the box
with a five o clock shadow
and unlit White Owl Tiparilo
ordering a drinking next to me at the bar.
And of course.
She had a proposition for me.
-Sometimes Grief 2012
(for the Phil & my son)
Even Damnation is poisoned with rainbows
October evening in the railroad earth
Were Wolfe and Jack once rode
Split this month in half
Between Summer and Winter
And allow the days to Fall
As they May.
Earlier in the afternoon when you showed up
On the sidewalk in front of his apartment
Looking so lost and beat
The brother from another planet
Grinning at you with amusement said
So what do you think you’re doing cursing for Sailors?
Tonight I sleep in the arms of St.Mark
This place where you cut your
Beatnik teeth over on E 7th forty years ago.
Back then you knew how to get to only
Two places in the City-
And Veryonna across the street.
So with the Ancient Mainer and my son now a full grown man
We kibitz, mug and joke around on the stoop in front of Phil’s place
Thinking the three of us are like Matt Dillon Mickey Rourke and Dennis Hopper In Rumble Fish as we head for the bar around the corner to
Over beers try and figure out just who is who tonight.
Osculating with the Ocelots
When we filter our words
We strain out thoughts
Away from the desired intent
And then attempt to hit the
Dartboard of coherency
With these dull verbal flechetts (Fa-chets)
And even worse aim
Meeting Geo the Wheel
I remember years ago
Running across him at the bar
After some poetry reading
And the lapdog barfly writers
Were crawling all over him
Circling him like the sharks
Had hung a pork chop around his neck.
The Art of the Wink
Can I ask you a question ?
When was the last time somebody winked at you ?
Better yet- when was the last time
You winked at someone ?
Now consider this
Has the wink become a lost art ?
When was the last time you lost something
Fragile, dear and precious
In the wink of the eye ?
Do you remember your last favorite wink ?
(and what it meant)
And how about the most disturbing wink ever ?
Clearly much like a good laugh-a pregnant pause- a fleeting deep glance
What has become of the Wink ?
But I will tell you this much-
I never want to have to think either before or after a wink.
Academic Smirk Alert
Coming out of the Film Analysis class he had just taught
That early winter morning as the hallway flooded with
Shafts of sunshine the hallway abruptly faded as this little dark
Cloud in a mini-skirt, knee high white go-go boots sashayed
Towards him moving in the opposite direction
Spotting him glowered lowering her brow
To avoid eye contact
And sending the clear message-
So this is the asshole I keep hearing about from Professor McPricker’s school of disdain.
He shrugged, sighed and sadly shook his head
Thinking why in holy hell did he still manage to attract this kind of sophomoric horse shit.
He let out a rather conversational assessment of the encounter in exasperation saying
And immediately she echoed
Well now he thought-
I guess we’re in agreement about that.
(For M A O’Hara)
They were home in bed after an evening out for dinner and drinks that had progressively degenerated in the sullen silence now between them. He didn’t know it yet but this affair was having its walking papers being processed-
After he had some observation about how lousy the restaurant she had picked for them. She sat up and shook her head saying- You are some Narcissus-He had heard all this before- a kind of default negative character assignment when his relationships were going south. Usually he just let it go- but not tonight.
They had the following exchange
So if I’m Narcissus do you know what that makes you who ?
Narcissus/ girlfriend Echo
Yup. Not only that but everybody seems to have him pegged, but very few seem
To know anything who she was
Who She was ?
Echo was a very good looking Wood Nymph. She had one annoying characteristic
However she was bather mouth- would talk the ear off anyone she met.
So one day Zeus has come down from Olympus to frolic and knock off a few
Stray Nymph’s in the woods. His wife Hera (also known as June) was very aware
Of her husband’s salacious hobbies on earth and followed him to catch the old lech
In the act of his indiscretions and she might caught him too….but she happened to
Run into Echo. As you can imagine Echo wanted to talk to the Goodness about everything.
She ran a blue streak babble detaining Hera’s pursuit of her wayward husband, Zeus seeing
What was going on escaped clean away back to Olympus.
Later on Hera figured out that Echo had purposely distracted her. She was pissed.
So Hera took away Echo’s voice and pronounced from now Echo could only repeat
The last words spoken to her. So in one respect Echo would have the last word forever.
A rather ignominious gift to round out the punishment.
So Echo is wandering the woods on day and sees young Narcissus rather spoiled very
Good looking teenager out hunting with the boys. Now all the other Wood Nymphs thought
Our boy was to die for- But he wanted none it.
Now Echo sees Narcissus and goes nuts. She wants this beefcake in the worse way.
But she can’t speak to him first. She starts stalking him. He gradually becomes aware
Of this and is kind of cheeped out- a yells out go away beat it and of the course hears back
Go away beat it. This goes on for awhile till Echo can’t stand it anymore. She sneaks up
Behind Narcissus and knocks him flat and straddles him. He intentions are very clear.
No Dice. Old Narcissus isn’t into this sort of thing. Yells at her I would rather die than
You have me. Echo humiliated in tears replies Have me.
Echo continues to follow him till he comes to that pool of water. (which was created by the
Gods to punish this rather vain teenager). Truth was Narcissus wasn’t very bright to begin with
Anyway. His birth and been as questionable as Echoes- (but that’s another story) A Seer named
Teiresias had told his mom (Blue Nymph) that her stunning son would ok only if he never Knew himself, Get it ?
The stupid bastard probably never knew it was his reflection in the pool. Ok so you should know the rest by now- Narcissus withered away and died because of a lost love and Echo did as well a few feet away pinning away for him.
Back in the bedroom she was getting dressed getting to leave and said
Well that stupid story proves my perfectly- Our relationship has some very serious issues and rather discussing that you tell me that stupid story where you actually defend and try to justify that guy – no wonder you spend most of your day when you aren’t working watching Porn and drinking beer.
Know what ? You are Narcissus and you can forget that bullshit about Echo
He shrugged as she walked out the door and called after her Goodbye Baby
To which she spat over her shoulder-
And John Garfield just told Joan Crawford-
You know full well you have a blank check with my emotions.
Central Casting has been notified
You know what you’re like ?
A two dollar plastic frame.
Cheap and easy to find.
Drinking in every second
Five senses walk into a bar
And start buying rounds for each other.
Bartender doesn’t know what to think about this bunch
Except perhaps he needs to speak into their good ear.
Mostly much of what you see is still wet anyways
And runs into your eyes upside down and backwards.
While touch and smell debate
Till taste tells them all
To just shut up.
Please don’t play that again Sam
And of course
You had better remember this
A kiss is still a kiss or a swing and a miss
While a sigh as become an alibi
It would seem the fundamental things have gone array
As time goes by.