Honestly, I'm a Liar, & Other Balances & Imbalances

August 15, 2012

BLOOD SHADOWS OILS FOR LATER

 

In the upper peninsula of Michigan
blustery State Road 2 you must go.
It’s quite common to drive over
deep blood in snow/ dead buck or  doe./
Just as felines must fall & fill gutters
South of there, all over./
deep blood in the snow./
With the people of upper Michigan
it’s quite common  they’ll drag & drape over
& tie up their meat
off the back of their battered trucks
and freight it home to their freezers
for later./

Here in Southwest Florida
on the way to work
it’s uncommon…
(I called out  “Oh My God!”)
it’s uncommon to drive over…
(I killed  an alligator)
I was light on sleep and late for work/
All in a dream’s dread,  in my headlights,
I called out  “Oh my God!”

Still, Later, When I left working, dark and yet dawning
(I had  left It for the taking.  &  It was gone.)
Still were spilled  shadows. most  it was gone.

Lost. home, what would save me?
milk cream & alcohol
Nor Down on my knees
under some Art on a wall;
Oils had spilled on an
empty space clean/
I know this all is from All.
(I called in “oh my god”)

.
stains for a dream

.

.

.

.

.

(from 3 yrs ago, true story)

February 7, 2012

loft

It might seem

All this wretched week

I’m nights dreaming,

‘Till their drench ed sheets

Drape their flushed & fleshy souls

In the same town

Wet, & yet

Won’t drown

In deep waters

Just out the door, around.

.

They’ll soon drift,

‘Till noon, a different drift.

At long last They’re lift ed

A strong  love’s loft,

Soft, &

Gifted.

December 26, 2011

COUP DREAM

in a dance we did

yr thinner, inner landscape was inscribed, was

vapid.  insi Pitity.

me, I was a hundred mindfields away,

defragging yr administration, declassifying yr files,

& imitating yr walk.

stepping up some

May 29, 2011

Coarsely Course Through You, To Coerce You To Beauty

how Art thou? Do you drink from the deep sink of inspired creations at an art museum, gallery, or maybe a street art fair on a street near you?sometimes?
Do you have something on one of your walls that you could only fall for?
And, can’t help but stare?
It’s an important thing,dontcha think?
It has been from an early age for me.
I’m told that soon after I found my father who had killed himself (the Hemingway), while all the distraught adults who knew & loved him were off balance with emotional & practical adjustments (like selling the house and moving on)
a forgotten first son had got into several paint cans and expressed quite a colorful statement on the backside of the new house for sale.
                   I
I was perched high for me
in a pinepitchtree
and waited out what I did
as I watched our house’s back side
where I painted from all the paint cans
stacked out back. Though very new plans
made us move away from that life.
Daddy had died and left that life.
Somebody and something could only cover
that work.
                               

                                 II

a french girl with hair from the girl in Breathless
was our art teacher that visited
Miss Blue’s 3rd grade class,
and liked my painting so much
she asked if she could take it
for a contest, or a book she was working on.
The blurry greens and blacks,
browns and blues was a ship in a storm.
I never saw it again but
somebody and something could only recover
that work.

still, tie me to the mast.

and

I must get the next good grasp
still, the next limb up
to see some.

————————————————————————————————

March 29, 2011

something

when i  kicked something at work,

it was an unsafe area & i  hurt myself

so i  kicked something at work

they walked me off the floor & now i  hate myself

so i’m off  for some time  at work

they’ll drop all charges if i  damn myself

when i kicked something at work

i was no fool for those rules  myself

a perilous  future

presently  at work

my past actions are passed factoring in for myself

i don’t know what to do   what will work

since i kicked something at work

February 8, 2011

Before The Job

Let’s say   We’re sailing

on the prevailing wind  of fate.

Respecting that   (damn straight)

I expect that  botching it

Could only be  considered

A consequence

Of bad planning

(it makes sense),

A consequence  allowed,

A consequence  followed

By bad consequences

Of   happenstance.

January 26, 2011

Mornings, he went off his porch

He went off his porch

&  then got his ladder

So that he might hear

The rain much better.

He’d bet  his birds

Would sing out sooner

Than dawn, or than when the wet was done.

He’d fire up his  ford

Big swallow the usual

milk cream & whiskey

Aside his harsh coffee

and lighten things, his brain,

the night and rain.

October 12, 2010

two alarms (impatient)

Is  or isn’t it odd

that the gods have their own take

on what all gets  the go ahead

and all  just what must wait?

I was brought up to believe

that all’s seen through for some reason,

but if it happens  “as it should”

what if you  know it all goes wrong

and it’s going wrong all day

when two alarms should’ve gone off upon rising?

Or once again you wince & wait for your own way?

 

June 22, 2010

Private Investigations

Though the car windows were covered,

Two inches & a quarter of new snow,

The hood had indicated

It was warm for way passed four.

My thought was they had brought him

And left what was left of him,

At a darker corner of this

Shithole, corn-fed hoosier town.

He shoulda gone and left this place.

His spirit, I bet, wasn’t in this place,

And also, where we found him,

And looking at his brown scabbed face,

No spirit in his fight.

.

My outlook.. has her sons there.

They took up their arms

Again & again against him.

They’d looked up to him.

Now,  their duty  had

Them barely looking down

When they booted him.

.

I’m bettin’   Mom upended

His private world.

Motive  was all in a  journal.

Maybe   how he merely   saw things.

.

It  hurt her  to not be let  to not know him.

Now  all,   & no one,  would be let  to not know him.

 .

.

.

                                                                                                                                              for my wife, K

April 29, 2010

Adaption

Ink can slip onto  and stain a page

I think it can permeate a world around

it that can see it then re-see it new

                             and adapt it to the stage.

The symbals clash, the lights rush up. Both astound

A staring crowd.  So start up yr. casual

stroll from the wings, not forgetting yr. casual

role.

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