Saturday, May 21, 2016

How Long Must I Dream - A poem for Dane and Claire.

How Long Must I Dream

How long must I dream?
Forever.
Alive in the space between dreams and awakening truth
The perpetual becoming mixing with mystical memories
And I work and wait and work and wait
And stop to listen to the sweetness.

How long must they dream?
Forever.
Asleep in the moment encircling each other
Embodying the imaginary; making meaning out of make-believe
And they rest and wait and rest and wait
And stop to listen to the sweetness
Together.

How long must she dream?
Forever.
Apart in the desert divining the deep water
Intuition manifestly quenching all futures
And she tastes and waits and tastes and waits
And stops to listen to the sweetness.


How long must he dream?
Forever.
Alone in the winter reckoning with the ancient mystery
Burying the remainder of the frozen rainclouds
And he looks and waits and looks and waits
And stops to listen to the sweetness.


How long must we dream?
Forever.
Anew as the one-flesh incarnate each moment
Forgiving and fulfilling and sha-da-da-ing the infinite possible
We kiss and wait and kiss and wait
And stop to listen to the sweetness
Together.



Wednesday, April 13, 2016

AutomatiCity

Automaticity Automatic City

I am, all by myself, a city
There are parts of me where White women do not go at night.
An urban planner envisioned my entrails.
Parking is a problem.
Locals say genital gentrification is on the rise.
Neighborhoods aren’t what they used to be.
Industrialization and a lack of public transportation
The school district in my spinal column is in shambles.
Mayor Mouth is corrupt.
The whole damn city council is a colonic croc of shit.
But the artists are putting down roots.
Culture is being crafted in my esophagus.
Silicon Valley has an eye on the clavicle real estate market.
Perhaps next year there will be a renewal of self.

Now it is mostly plastic bags stuck in stubby trees.

Monday, March 21, 2016

I have a book problem

The following essay is to be read aloud in a mid-atlantic accent while wearing an imaginary tweed jacket with preten(d)tious elbow patches and smoking this Rene Magritte painting.

Image result for rene this is not my pipe


I have a book problem. More precisely, I have a problematic lack of space for all of the books I wish to own. As with most recovering addicts, I have self controlled and shamed myself into not living out my worst literary fantasies. Somewhere in the multiverse there is a hoarder version of me with stacks to the ceiling of things I am going to read again when I have that mythical extra time. A Little Free Library in Fisher Park near my house would go a long way in ameliorating my book/space problem. More importantly it will keep me from passing on this disease to the next generation. I fear my 3 year old may also have a book problem. Hers is still just an innocent yet insatiable appetite for more and different books. It has not yet devolved into my capitalist desire to own and keep. Help me as I seek to live out and teach an ethos of sharing. Assist us in our pursuit of ideas over objects by providing my family a Little Free Library in our neighborhood.

Wednesday, November 18, 2015

A Proposal (On bended knee)

A Proposal (On bended knee)

Ostensibly, I only use the word ostensibly to impress you.
Then I follow up with a wry self-deprecating wit to undercut my impressiveness.
Ipso facto, I impress you again.
Yes, I have recently Googled the Latin phrase ipso facto
After having read it in the Wall Street Journal
A Wall Street Journal I repurposed from a trashcan.

I wear no cologne only pheromones.
That smell is my aura and my unwashed underarm.
Science told me that you would like pheromones
Which is fortuitous being that I am out of shower gel.
Or is it serendipitous. 
Those are interchangeable synonyms according to Thesuraus.com

I own stock ironically. Chicken stock.
Both the Swanson brand sold in a carton and one share of Tyson Foods Inc.
The performance art I plan to devise from this double entendre
Will be a game changer in the Irony game.
A game I am concurrently developing for Microsoft.
You get it.  You understand me.

I have rejected the establishment.
And simultaneously established myself.
I will take you into the future if you can take it.
I know this will sound profound because I have read it out loud into a mirror.
You will marry me.  I will marry you. Our wedding will be a triumph,
A Triumph Of The Will without all the Nazis.

So...?

Thursday, September 03, 2015

DonorsChoose Project: Reaching the Write Minds

Reaching the Write Minds

My students need to take an amazing writing workshop.

My Students

Theater is where literacy gets real. We listen and speak and create on a daily basis.
My students are from tough backgrounds, but they have a love for the stage.
The students in my theater class are natural performers and enjoy being the center of attention. There is a lot they can do, and they will let no obstacles stand in their way as they pursue their dreams.

My Project

My students need to take an amazing writing workshop. This workshop is a fantastic way to hook kids into writing plays. They will spend the day working with a professional writer who will teach them step-by-step techniques. One will be chosen to be featured in the year-round apprentice program for up and coming writers. Getting to go would be incredible.
I have sent several groups of students to this workshop in the past 5 years.
They always come away engaged in the writing process on a deeper level. Taking a performer and molding them into a playwright in one day is an incredible thing to watch.

Reaching the Write Minds


Saturday, April 26, 2014

Perpetual Midnight

Perpetual Midnight

Uncontrollable earworms are
Burrowing into the nether.
Denied their right to a living,
Inhumane and innocent;
They alleviate all suffering.

The extraordinary efforts to
Provide the widows with relief
Yield nothing new under the sun.
As medical tourism is booming
Some are running out of supplies.

Rivalry be damned dammit
Pains were taken.
Surely as the day is long the
Renegade retrogrades
Spasm into control.

Creation.
Hallucination.
Interrogation.
Automation.
Desolation.

If the future holds,
Try as they might to
Immanentize the eschaton
Peace comes only in the morning
And now is perpetual midnight.

Thursday, March 20, 2014

Three dogs at a party on a boat at night.

Three dogs at a party on a boat at night.
~ P. D. Eastman
Three dogs at a party on a boat at night.

“Hats have a way of making
A boat ride into an extravaganza”
Thought Green Dog
“I am glad I bought the hats”

Green fretted to himself
“Brown is getting married Saturday
And all Blue wants to do is banjo
I am the only one even trying”

“This tiny boat will come in handy
In case there is a tiny emergency.
I always come prepared.”
Green Dog remarked proudly

“Checkers and yo-yoing at once
Is a skill that not every dog has”
Green Dog boasted to himself
“Blue could never do that”

“I will give Brown a night to remember
If it is the last thing I do.
What happens on boat stays on boat.
That is why I am letting him win.”

“A waning crescent moon overhead.
Blue banjoing some bluegrass.
Brown gets a triple jump.
I am the best Best Dog ever.”

Friday, February 07, 2014

Red velvet hippos with perfect aplomb quaff the mahogany chaffing dish

“Red velvet hippos with perfect aplomb quaff the mahogany chaffing dish.”
Glen Weldon

That is a real dick move hippos.
You think you're better than me?
I may be a blue vinyl alligator with scoliosis but I can quaff.
I can quaff like a freaking sommelier ninja.
The chaffing dish is where I draw the line.
That is grody to the max.
Old water keeping the rice pilaf warm?
Seriously, you could get hepatitis from that bro.
Hippotitis.
I like the sound of that. 
So perfectly contrived.
Keep quaffing.

Wednesday, January 29, 2014

Hipster Hitler

In the Germanic corner of Brooklyn
Next to a raw food emporium and delicatessen
A Hitler-Mustachioed man
Paints with a toothbrush.

His wrists obviously went to art school
And he is very proud of his boots.
His hair reads like nonsensical nonfiction.
A toupee of truth.

There is always someone almost punching him.

The canvas he works on is stacked on Volkswagen tires
Leaning against a brick wall he does not own.
The swastikas he brushes are ironic only
To people who do not understand irony.

That he wears a uniform is to be expected.
He wants you to expect it.
Though there is no power in those pants
They are dry clean only.

No one laughs at him though they agree he is a joke.

The Holocaust is usually the start of a horrible metaphor.
There is however something Holocausty about his toothbrush art.
It makes one aware of the evil in one's self.
It can make one wish the artist were Holocausted

Because he does it all so knowingly.
So egregiously beyond the pale. [enter whiteness pun]
He wants for his winking to be implied.
Nazis and performance art have superiority in common.

Hitlers of the future are the hipsters of the moment. Or not.  Probably not.