I so wanted to be you
wanting

the rotting wagon tongue the
lunar dust

I wanted your west
your dying towns

the salmon that swam
upstream

and the girl that giggled and scissor kicked
in your drink

because

I'm a poet and what might
have depressed others

was lush and fertile landscape
to me

but when I traveled your America
I saw saw it

through much cheaper sun glasses
the kind

you might buy at a truck stop
or someplace

like Wall Drug
or an Indian smoke shop

with a neon war bonnet
and that

made all the difference

So many have accumulated over time
all stacked on top of each other

in an open cardboard box
not a bin

trucks sedans
sports cars

of red yellow
and blue

scratched and chipped
mementos

of a well worn
youth

Still there in a drawer
with other

baubles
knickknacks and what nots

I find you every time I look

and you
are still there

even though
the mirror tries to tell me otherwise

but like the needle

I have to look past and through
the creases the wrinkles

and through all the other junk
I've collected along the way

but you too
are

still there

And the sun is sunny
side up

with a yoke begging
to be broke

and lapped up with a nice greasy
piece of toast

no rain today because
I said so

what we project is all we will ever be
to those

who  will never take the time
to  really know us

A sleight a hand
trick of light

now you see me now
you don't you

fell for that one
got played for a chump

can I be honest

not if you're going to continue
insulting me

Sun and heat beyond
simile
and metaphor

open bar

and the Groom and Mom's dance
caused tears to mix with
flowing Spirits

soon

night will fall
and with just two steps to August
Cicadas

will be here

Morse Code
or no code at all

life is noise

and no one tells you
what and what not to listen to

right now the sun's rays
are piercing

the gray fluff of a former
Nimbus cloud

A flickering street lamp
Fedora and a black thin tie

that's all I get in my
dreams

an occasional shot glass
filled with perfect cubes

and a splash of something
dark to drink

maybe

You are far away
but I hear you mostly
at night

your voice tempering
the howling wind the
raging storm

Or somewhere
it's raining hard and it hurts

they tell you time and time again
but nobody ever does

nobody

saves

Wheels spin
as other parts move

gears grind

so many things
being

mixed
in a blender

And all last week the skies
dumped ***** rain

now the sun shines
birds chirp

a brook babbles
time flies

as you stand letting life happen
in your shadow

A flag billows
gently

in a warm breeze
as a jet

silently makes it's way
across a blue sky

graying
at the edges of perception

Goggles
a lambskin helmet

scarf
and a wand

to leave a chemtrail of bubbles
as I go

I don't need much more
than that

because this life
has always been piloted

by the seat of my pants
with no real plan

except for
an occasional barnstorming

here and there

A pastiche
decades

of childhood
blurring

locusts

buzzing

Some say it was a ratcheting
descent

into the depths
of a day-glo hell

and a brush with death
by an oncoming train

followed by a straight up
abyss

with no more light up ahead
but I say  

it's was a life hard fought
and well lived

Sign post up
ahead

neon pink
big ears with a playful snout

it spins I spin
turning

hands dials
trying

to turn back a clock
and time

There's nothing to
glean from the wreckage

no lessons no wisdom no
truths

except maybe
that when the wind blows

stuff smashes things get torn apart
and other stuff shatters

don't let anyone say
otherwise

there's
no reason for this


no rhyme simile or
metaphor

We mustn't end on this
note

so how about some food

a piece of wonder bread
piled high with hot tuna

dripping with mayonnaise
and compressed by

another
piece of bread

possibly the heal
which means

the package
is crumpled up and maybe

on the floor?

But I think the best was when
one end of the twine

was tied to my molar
and the other end to the ****

as the door slammed and wrenched
my tiny but gnarly tooth free

when one door slams  another
doesn't necessarily open

pistons gears
camshafts
pump rods and axles

all moving parts
for the greater good

a common cause

waves barreling
crashing the shoreline

the moon an undercurrent of energy
landslides beneath

such mystery
lurks

I passed
gas a while back

it was an old Sinclair station
trapped

in a decade long gone

now I'm running on fumes

in the panhandle
a place where stumpy palm trees

line the on-ramps to highways
leading out of town

Destin Florida
Fort Walton Beach

you can see your future
from here

I'm a pig
with a ***** bib
haunches

and a pork chop
dangling
from my grubby mouth

that's right

I'm a hog
who should be a dingo
or some other wild dog

but I'm just a cannibal
preying
on my own species

and if you don't like it

Grease Me Daddy

Puerto Rico
named after Rico

who, on his pinky, donned
a diamond ringo

and pined for Lola
a showgirl

with yellow feathers in her hair
and a dress of ruby red
cut so low

blood and a single
gunshot

who could ask for more
oh Puerto Rico

you are my
LOLA

but with moxy
and yet you mock me

like you are constantly
boxing

my ears

as if I were a big
donkey

The pallet and paints
that came

out of nowhere
may have been freaky

Was it an accident?

could be
could be not

YOU ARE THE JUDGE
YOU'VE ALWAYS BEEN

THE JUDGE

But what came after the paints
brushes, easel, and canvas

Was  The cornucopia

The repository
argosy

The treasure trove
That was

THE BOMB

an explosion of poetic
colors

red orange greens
Like a candy flake daydream

Of lush beuaty and Art

And art is truth, and truth comes
from the heart

And it's the heart
That gives your truth

its power

it hangs
on the hat rack

something I've always
threatened to eat

it laughs
it taunts

always reminding me
of how I talk

a really big game

Things that I want
or things that I need

you weren't there
I called

but you were
gone

Gold
is something I'll never know

the best
I can hope for

maybe marble

but  it  will
most likely be

granite

a palette
and a beret

could I ask for more
do I

want

The whir of the fan
interrupted

by every penny
I pitch

and I'm idle
with time on my hands

waiting on the Devil
to give me something to do

I pray it only involves
music

All that knowledge
for

a  couple of trips
around the board

as well as pieces
of that plastic pie

for the win the
victory

trivial
of little value and importance

What's left
has spilled onto the floor
and finding

it's way to every crack and crevice
of this shabby room


10 frivolous bucks for an overshaken
can of soda

it was all I had and all
I could enjoy

was I the sucker that didn't deserve
an even break

or was I the one born
every minute

6 am
and my head feels like it was used
as a snare drum

or maybe

it throbs
because of that avocado
green refrigerator

that thing
I was chasing in my dream
dropped on me

from up high
on a towering cliff
as it blew a raspberry

and sped off

Some people are luckier than others
I guess

Headline:

A man struck dead
by falling anvil
from Acme

and now he doesn't have to pay
his ******

All that jumping
and grouping

to end up with three
only to be reminded

that it takes just a minute
for your simple plan

to go to mush
and that this is another day

you wish you were
born a duck

A plastic whistle
or wax paper and a comb

where every note played
conjures up a compact

red blue and yellow car
with a thousand clowns

coming through every door
and out of every corner and crevice

A rubber mallet to the knee
to watch it jump

reflexes

I'm only testing the reflexes
he says

but maybe maybe
he likes to bonk humanity

just to watch it dance

The writing's always
on the wall

usually
something scrawled

about a good time
and who to call for it

or maybe
a more ominous message

about how in ten years
the world will have exhausted

its supply of ding dongs
so you better

stock up now

It was fun watching
my toy ship and squeezy duck

succumb
to the soap-bubble undertow

made
by raging bathwater


from the faucet
into the tub

days gone by

or shall we say
submerged

Launched with flippers
like a pinball

what was I thinking
driving from east to west

was I searching
for some pie in the sky

if so
I hope it was

lemon meringue

happy little trees
blue sky
lollipop sun

misshapen things
like bicycles
keys

yellow maybe
but mostly other shades
of off-color

a painter's pallet
burglary tools and counterfeit
printing press

the great sham
magnificent theft
and master forgery

So many women
have tried to change you

she said with her head
on my shoulder

as rain pellets battered
the windshield

and red-orange strips
of celluloid

flashed in my mind
jumpy jittery

but beautiful
nonetheless

He thought your face had a nice
color

that mad professor with a tomato-red
complexion all his own

and that was years ago
when he said that

as we sat over a plate of steak and eggs
they called a moo and peep

back then I thought we'd still be treking
this thing together

but I know now through words so rudely spoken
by destiny and life

that a tandem journey for you and me
was never meant to be

on this leg

I just finished a tin of spam
and now I'm closing my eyes

to dream about jackrabbits
cactus rattlesnakes  tumbleweeds

and other things
you can sing about

while strumming
an old guitar

It's easier to tap your fingers
to the patter of rain on the roof

the intermittent claps of thunder
and flashes of lightning

I know sunshine
hurts your eyes

I get it

There was no beginning
to our journey

and hence
there'll be no end

and like a divining rod
I was led to this card

and sentiment

as I always am

The  bouncing red ball
of my dreams

I now see
in my everyday

it's something to follow
and focus on

because
at my age I've learned

variety
was never the spice of life

It's about that time
when the mind  wanders

starts to play
and walks the tight wire

between
liquid and solid

dream
and reality

and paperclips
taped together

a sculpture
on my desk

art and an homage
to desperation

despair
and disappointment

every time
I look up my retirement account

The ambient atmosphere
of machinery

electronics
and light flashing

like a Kodak camera
amazing

what we embrace
and how we find peace

when our nose
is to the grindstone

and we are
under the gun