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

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.

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.

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.

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.

Terrance the Quadriplegic Leopard: A Superhero Story

You would not expect when see him
Laying all legless and armless
That Terrance is Super Heroic
Even though he appears harmless.

His power and strength my be hidden
Behind a humble façade
But Terrance is more than a leopard
Disabled by an act of God.

If there is a child in trouble
If there is a baby at risk
He will be there to the rescue
Complete will a quick Terrance kiss

If a bad guy is causing a problem
A robber, say, robbing a bank
Terrance will swoop in and stop him
Sneak in and give him a spank

If a lion is chasing a tiger
Or a Rhino is being a bully
The Leopard will fly in between them
Solving their problems quite fully

If a bus driver drives off a bridge
With a busload of children inside
Terrance will bring enough pillows
To cushion the falling bus ride

First graders will climb out the windows
And Terrance will cuddle them all
The driver will give him a high five
And laugh off the 50 foot fall

If aliens invade our planet
And try to take everyone’s mommy
Terrance will talk to their leader
A fat guy with braces named Tommy



Through reason and wit and some hugs
Terrance will stop the mom taking
No need for alien punching
Just old-fashioned handless handshaking

Also if puppies are crying
If kittens are somewhat depressed
Terrance will stop by all cheery
And put all their sadness to rest

These are not all of his powers
Though they are all so specific
He can do so many things
‘Cause Terrance is Super Terr-ific!

Historical Napkin

A light snow was falling as Charlie Reardon left the diner and made his way down Madison Street. Sky vomit, he thought. An archangel’s dandruff. A slow motion God sneeze. Not quite.

He took out his phone and acted more important than he was.

A tiny alien invasion. An Aryan alien invasion. Alliteration is always an improvement, he noted to himself with the confidence of the fully bearded, much better.

Charlie did not write it on a napkin. He thought about going back for a napkin from the diner, but he was confident in his memory. He knew he could remember such a good sentence. Such a well made sentence. He did not remember which was right grammatically. A perfect phrase. With this change of thought he corrected and congratulated simultaneously.

Professor Reardon liked Madison. The street had a gentrified air. Thoughtfully dirty white people and hearty smelling ethnics. Stores that sold things he never bought soothed Charlie. The diner did not have too many old people. He thought that that was probably ironic. Maybe paradoxical. Both.

His satchel was open just enough that the top his novel was visible but closed just enough to protect it from the elements. He knew it would impress the lip ringed girl who held the sign on the corner. She read, he thought.
An alien Aryan Invasion was wetting his mustache.

It occurred to him that if he were to write it on a napkin it might be worth something someday. Someday soon. He could put the napkin haphazardly on his desk. Or should he file it. He would file it so that a museum would have an easier time locating it.

He turned around like a Beefeater, toward the diner and bumped into an ethnic. She dropped her phone onto the supremacist spaceships on the sidewalk. He thought about apologizing in her native tongue as a gesture of cultural respect. She was gone before he had a chance to. It was kind of him to think of that though, he thought.

It had to be a napkin from the diner so that the biographer would know that the idea had happened at breakfast. Ironic him eating there and not being old, they would think. He rushed now intent on documenting history. The revisionism inherent in the act appalled him not at all. The winners craft it, he quipped. He did not think to himself what he had won at, only that he belonged in their circle.

The waitress was surprised to see his beard again. He pushed his hand deep into the dispenser and thought about being watched euphemistically. The waitress was not watching. It was empty and he thought about that symbolism.

Charlie asked after a napkin and the hostess handed him one from an open brown bag on her pulpit. The second wave of racist attackers from space slammed into the front window melting immediately.

The napkin was blank and brown. Ethnic. It did not smell.

How would the documentarian arrive at the place where the idea for that well made wordplay famously came to him while he ate waffles, if there was not a logo on the napkin? It could be from any number of places without paradox.

Charlie did not like this. He left the napkin and the sentence and went back into the light snow, late for class.

The System We Fought: In commemoration of Greg turning 30

Too small for our pants pockets
Too big in our brains
Wrecking the standard American Baptist conventions
We rolled down hills.

Resisting normalcy together
As if it were a novel endeavor
Because who has time to know where one is coming from
While jumping on trampolines.

We counted ourselves better
Than those who did not roll
And rock out to The Fundamental Elements of Southtown;
An innocent pride of youth.

The art of insult perfected at lunch
Hooty hoo’s is the hallways yet
Always seeing each other at the pole.
Redeeming our irreverence by holding hands

An outside observer reflecting on our systemic war
Might notice its shortcomings.
But wide-eyed, while there was a battle going on
We fought, and for this I am still proud.

Sweet Potato Sheep Sack

In my sack of sweet potatoes I often keep a sheep.
The magma from volcanoes consumes me during sleep
A cappella madness droning out the sadness
The fourth of every February death will take a leap.

Frog inside my crevice keeps away the flies
A skeleton Rebellion will overthrow the rise
Of Lithuania - when feral packs of paupers,
Went militantly boning like a seamstress hiding thigh.

Will be done almighty here on earth as is elsewhere?
The jungles of Montana; no good can come from there!
Ticker tape for naked apes appeasing one another
Until the Heart of Darkness will be stinted with a chair.

Men will battle, camouflaged, for things that rarely matter
Diligently wiping off the raining pitter patter
Window pane and entertain and explain it all against
The backdrop of the doorstep moussed with bloody batter.

Up into the atmosphere the errant satellite
Pokes Orion open in his orifice of the night
Sending shadows stiltedly into the cave of Earth
Covering the evil like a fresh potato blight

Which brings me back to sheep in sacks;
Understandably.