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

"It's supposed to be sunny today..."

he says to no one
then shrugs

and walks off
to make copies

like soap bubbles
from a wand

so many broken pieces
of conversation

float off into space
before

they pop

I'm out of the loop
an outsider

so they they say

and that's perfectly ok

last night
I dreamed of Dilbert

not in his cubicle
but onstage in a jazz club

playing
sultry saxophone

with enchanted blue smoke
rising up

around him

These silver-colored nuggets
in a glass bowl

plopped
on the counter

metallic gleaming
under the fluorescent light

Is it a bug and something
you can't put down

just lust
or is it really love

and longing

sunny day blue sky
and golden wheat for miles

Perfect
in my head

but when
it exits and hits the air

then it becomes foreign
to your ear

a language so
ancient

that makes life a struggle
to be relatable

suitable
for your palate

and  mass consumption

Gleaming
pink and magnetic

we are drawn

to its  cold metallic
stature

it's the day

our Day the Earth
stood still

Road closed ahead
so the digital sign says

as lightning illuminates
the orange reflective pylons

placed to force traffic
off the highway

it's weird

this lightning flashing
with snowflakes

whipping all around

I get lost in silly daydreams
about conquest

and most of all
becoming

a cruise ship comedian

there are things I'll never
understand

like how to get what you want in life

and all the intricate parts
of men

Solid metal
painted bold bold colors

and details

like wheels
with whitewall tires

making it ready

to go to yesterday
and better points beyond

Jump
like over a red plastic

or bakelite piece
and maybe

a mad dash
around a track

either way

I'm over it or
went from zero to sixty

rubbing and racing
and there she is

easy on the eyes
billowing

in a breeze that's gentle
and easy on my skin

victory

Green red white
and blue big bulbed

Christmas lights
on a fake tree

it stopped being real
ages ago

A concrete
melted

and a shattered coke bottle
with glass scattered

across the floor

Red hat
pulled over the  eyes

homespun clothes
and a white wavy beard

and every day as I walk by
I ask you

what's the good word

thinking someday
you will speak

and tell me how to find
the door

You and I
with so much history
no

hyperbole

that hangs on us
like bad-fitting clothes
and it's all so

complicated

Gauze
or some tape

to cover a scrape
or scratch

that we tell ourselves
is only a temporary solution

but then
ends up another

permanent accessory
to our makeshift lives

Water drips on them
like Chinese Water Torture

as a film of food slime
coats the ceramic

and you have to ask yourself
one question

was it worth it

Tonight
the sky is strewn with stars

like diamonds
that have long stopped twinkling

and now

cut

They're tacked along
an outcropping of wall

and one droops because
of a missing tack

and after all these years
we've never fixed it

I guess politics
is war

and war begats wounds
which turn to scars

and then

badges