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.









Tuesday, July 09, 2013

Capitalist Socks

These socks will not be darned, I must  have you know.
Why would someone go to all that trouble
When the market is growing them on trees?
Chinesely handed trees that bloom seasonally.
Presidents Day Season.
Valentines Day Season.
Back To School Season.
All seasons abundant with sock stock.

Thursday, April 18, 2013

Complete Poetic Collaboration from The Forum @ Middle of the Map KC

The Preamble

Structuring Symbiosis: An Ethereal Collaborative Word-Building Project Constructed Sillily; a Participatory Poem

Today our words will gesture toward an impossible world
A culture that cannot exist; yet does
The aim is not agreement in our neighborhood it is presence
A family without fights is too clean

This is a calling for conversation
Interdependent;
Mutually beneficial like a sandwich;
Academic as astronauts;
Intimately connected like dissimilar lovers;
Conversation.

Listening and Questioning
Passionate
Persuasive
Tongue tickling dialogue
Put your feather dusters in your mouths
And remove all that has been lying around
Laying around
Both/And

Prepare to educate yourselves
Wipe off your minds’ insides and make room
The innovators and the idea generators
Will explore each other
Like a blind man with his brail erotica

The peacemakers and placemakers
Rapping Metronomic as pacemakers
Will spill the future into our ears
Genomic wisdom will emerge

And you will build along with them
Constructing new syllables
Manufacturing myths
Fashioning phrases
Communally
Symbiotically

The Amble

Amassing the Mind of the Many into a Stream of Shared Consciousness from the Middle of the Map

If I could build a world...
If, what do you mean if?
We are all building
And rebuilding.
And un-building.
Peace, Love, Diversity Harmony
Building out of sustainable materials
On abandoned or distressed properties
From Iran to Lima
And back to the Westside
Glocal
Yeah that’s a good buzzword
Say Gloacl
The world is full of pain and suffering but music heals.

If I could construct a culture I wouldn’t know what to say
I don’t read or write
Don’t put that in
Are you putting that in?
People would read more in my culture.
A culture of mutual respect. No Ego.
Reduce Reuse Recycle
The order is important.
Invite, Host, Share,
Build, Create, Dance
The order is not important.
Get rid of the parking lots.
This will be a culture built on
Wine and friends
Running lunches
Where education is actually valued
As are sharing and sharers.

I am about to talk
Scared to death
Too much coffee

We need a declaration of Interdependence,
Let the good times roll!
Exposing ourselves to the human element,
Uncovering the truth,
Each fabric begins with a thread in our culture.

If I could manufacture a neighborhood I would have
Shared spaces
Proximity to Places
Community cookouts every Saturday
Goats as lawnscapping
Gardens on every rooftop
Mandatory Snow Days
Robust Public Transit
That crosses the city dividing lines
Diverse socioeconomic live jazz centered around libraries
A Neighborhood is not just a place to get drunk.

If I could fashion a family
It would be an
All encompassing
Bilingual
Win-Win situation
Valuing failure.
There would be more camping
And great traditions
2 dads 1 mom and the best sister in the world
Unconditional Love would abide.
We would document our memories
Whatever it takes to regain my rhythm
Don’t pray that prayer
Faith leads to risk
Risk to Acquiescence
Acquiescence to a God who is bigger than
Dyserythropoietic Congenital Anemia type II
I would fashion a family of joy.

Post Amble

Wherever There is Sincerity, Hipster Irony is Not Too Far Behind

We need more rich white people
Give me free things
Free PBR
Free Tibet
Free “Free Tibet” T-shirts and bracelets
A gas pump at every house for my SUV
And coal
Coal made from compressed baby seals
Also no more sharks eating my spirit
We need corn syrup gardens
A Jayhawk in every yard
I demand Homogenized Diversity
Also
Koalas are whores
‘Abstinence Only’ education doesn’t work in the wild.


Structuring Symbiosis: An Ethereal Collaborative Word-Building Project Constructed Sillily; a Participatory Poem

Today our words will gesture toward an impossible world
A culture that cannot exist; yet does
The aim is not agreement in our neighborhood it is presence
A family without fights is too clean

This is a calling for conversation
Interdependent;
Mutually beneficial like a sandwich;
Academic as astronauts;
Intimately connected like dissimilar lovers;
Conversation.

Listening and Questioning
Passionate
Persuasive
Tongue tickling dialogue
Put your feather dusters in your mouths
And remove all that has been lying around
Laying around
Both/And

Prepare to educate yourselves
Wipe off your minds’ insides and make room
The innovators and the idea generators
Will explore each other
Like a blind man with his brail erotica

The peacemakers and placemakers
Rapping Metronomic as pacemakers
Will spill the future into our ears
Genomic wisdom will emerge

And you will build along with them
Constructing new syllables
Manufacturing myths
Fashioning phrases
Communally

Sunday, April 14, 2013

Ricky and his Cummerbund

Ricky and his Cummerbund

A lot is riding on this cummerbund thinks Ricky.
This is a life or death cummerbund.
A War or Peace cummerbund.
A cummerbund of epic significance.
If not for this cummerbund whole universes would cease to exist.
When one imagines a world without this particular cummerbund, Ricky postulates, all would be meaningless.
It is all for not without this cummerbund.
Joyless cummerbundless nothingness.
Blessed are the those whose bunds are cummered for they shall inherit the earth.
Woe to all uncummered bunds for they have received their reward in full.

Ricky adjusts his corsage and rings the doorbell.

Wednesday, April 03, 2013

This Little Piggy Had Roast Beef


This Little Piggy Had Roast Beef

First of all I did not just have Roast Beef
I lovingly prepared a succulent rump roast
They always leave that part out

Secondly I did not have just Roast Beef
There were mashed potatoes and gravy
Corn, Homemade Dinner Rolls. Did they tell you that?

Also I did have Roast Beef justly.
Free range, pasture feed, ethically slaughtered
I have friends who are Halal.

The point is there is more to the story
Little Piggy has roast beef is only a headline
Do your research.

Thursday, March 21, 2013

Busy in a Burger King Bathroom

Busy in a Burger King Bathroom

Not enough hours in the day.
I tell myself
While restocking toilet paper
So much to do
So little time
Sweeping
Mopping
Air Freshener Re-Freshening
I am only one man.
Though I toil day in and day out
Paper towels cannot stack themselves .
When Nature calls
Nature does not shape the urinal cakes
Into aesthetically pleasing spheroids.
I do.
My watch tells me I should already be
Soap dispenser respenseing
But the hole in the drywall
Demands my attention dammit.
Whose hooliganism is responsible for this?
I suspect Eddie
Of the stall door fame.
Graffiti being the gateway drug and
Wall-Punching the Heroin
Of restroom vandalism.
No time for blame
The soap needs me.
After that there is the
Wiping
The scrubbing
The mirror needs a squeegee
Who am I kidding
The whole effing room needs a squeegee.
The trash can is bagless.
Who is stealing the trash bags?
Eddie.
Must push mysterious puddle
Toward floor drain.
Read the sign
I scream at the elderly gentleman in a windbreaker
Come back later
Can't you see
I'm busy.

Saturday, October 27, 2012

Special Occasions

Although he smelled old
Barry did not feel old
Not tonight anyway
For tonight was a night for Halloween pants

As he brushed his teeth
Barry imagined each pasty white leg
Slipping into their black holes
Emerging triumphantly from his Halloween pants

He took his teeth from their brush cup
And put them into his young feeling mouth

Barry tucked his undershirt into his underwear
And wondered which was truly to be under what

As He stood in front of his wardrobe
Barry began crying
He smiled a porcelain smile
Tears of joy at the thought of his Halloween pants

Inside the door were his regulars
Brown woolen nondescript slacks
He wanted to punch them.
They were trash compared to his Halloween pants

Barry reached behind his thin cotton shirts
To a box marked “Special Occasions”

Before removing the lid he took a deep breath
Pants anticipation was almost as great as pants itself

Tonight
Tonight would be different.