finally wrote a poem about me that is nice.
was nice...
will be nice -  
when you stop pitying me.

one nice poem out of
many, many hateful
poems.

you write more flowery than me
maybe even better
i feel that i should struggle with that
be angry with you
my little
sister
taking one more thing that is mine and making it yours

it is ok.
if it makes you happy, makes you feel better, makes you smile, makes you feel accomplished, makes you feel smart, and
ok,
then
it is
ok.
it is even
good. maybe you even need it more than i do.

maybe i don't even need it anymore.
i don't know what i need.
i don't know where my reason went.
i just know that if you are happy,
no matter how disillusioned you are in your happiness,
it is
o
k.

Like the seasons, we

                 flirt, ****, hate, repeat

                           an incredible future upon each of our shoulders

                          and who knew it'd be the thing that holds us

back from everything we've ever felt together

we both knew we meant forever

                                                                             but slowly, surely

                                                                                        day by day

I assure you darling,

*I'm fading away.

My husband
is a bozo
He always blows it

Just last night,
we got into a taxi
and he went back to the house
to let the cat out
and while waiting
I told the taxi driver
who asked what was happening:
“Oh, he’s gone in
to say good night to my mom”
(sure I lied, there was no one in –
but I  didn’t want the taxi driver to know that)

And soon my husband got back into the taxi
loud and boisterous and cursing as usual:
“Oh, sorry I took so long…****! That
stupid thing was hiding under the bed
and I had to push her with that broomstick
and then I used the bamboo pole
to get it out of hiding!
I was gentle and careful, of course.
She can sometimes be a *****!”

God,
**** them *******
before they **** me.

Amen.

r ~ 9/18/14

1
Grisham John
my artist friend
is a sensitive chap
so a year after my wife dies
he gets me a date

2
Turns out at the restaurant
the woman walks up to me
like she were a floating jelly -
her left eye flying, her right eye sinking
her arms wild like horses
and her nose tripled;
each finger like a bullet
and she looks in all directions all at once

3
I call Grisham John on his cellphone
and I roar:
You paired me up with a hideous woman!

Relax! he intones
*You either hate 'em or love 'em -
that's how it is with a Picasso

Puritan James is about
to teach his growing-up son
a thing or two
about the evils of alcohol and drink

He places a glass of water
and a glass of whiskey side by side
on the dining table and he declares:
"Now watch, Mike,
what happens to the worms
I will put in the glass of water
and in the glass of whiskey;
and tell me what you learn"

And Mike watches the worms
curl up and die in the whiskey
and Mike formalises his wisdom:
*"Dad - I learn that if I drink whiskey
I will never have worms!"

look  - John and Mina are talking
in the corner in the class;
they too have their worries
even though they're just kids

"My dad works all night
at the petrol station
and in the office in the morning;
and my mom at her office in the afternoon
and she cooks and cleans
and washes all morning -
all this, as they tell me,
so I never have to worry
and I can have a good house
and food and the big car
But I still worry"

"What's there to worry?
For you, life's made easy," says the wise Mina

"Yeah," answers the worrier John -
*"but what happens if they decide to run away?"

think your worst thought

and throw it deep in the pines
to get caught on the vines

then go there at night
when the light of a bone
colored moon makes shadows
rattle and bite

and hold that thought

tight.

r ~ 9/11/14

all these years
of digging square holes
and i still don't know
why we stopped building
round houses

a mindset
is a terrible thing to change

square houses, graves
and hospital corners
are harder to maintain

circular places
make an impact
less direct
and more peaceful

an earth lodge
on the knife river
can teach us
to feel at home

we lose sight
of small things forgotten.

r ~ 9/11/14