He's lost in unsweetened choc-a-lot
down at the latest shop-a-lot.
Let people talk-a-lot.
We'll (was as in I thought I was his secret pal once)
Just mock them-a-lot.

Oh come on,
get my bone on
to take off
the cake of mud
that the sewage crud
dissolved over
resolve
and let you button my unbuttoned button down
My top bottom
is like a Georgia crane
That last part made
no sense
I guess,
but your tires
leave a nice rake
and they're a wreck
left on Brokeback
Mountain
Governor

"The trigector" uttered by **** Vita
"Nothing but the foot of the net" when a fighting Illini shot would go swish uttered by Tom Schroeder who would broadcast the old
University of Illinois basketball games
"Lofted by a single" in baseball,
"exploded for yardage" in football,
"Gathering undue boards" about rebounding in basketball,
"The Murderous Row" talking about the old power-hitting New York Yankees of 1972
"Cinderella Teams" or "Underdog Teams" who went far
"The Bronx Bombers" referring to the Yankees again,
the "Baby Bombers" referring to the present power-hitting Yankees of Newcomb's Greg Bird, Gary Sanchez, and, of course, Aaron Judge.
These are just some of my examples of sports slang and clichés I like.

Fancying myself a sophisticated gentleman, I like to lobby sit.
I have favorite spots like the Palmer House Hotel lobby in Chicago
where I'd even light a cigar and smugly read the Chicago Tribune
in one of their leather chairs
or else when the Yankees
or other visiting pro sports teams
were in town buy a Milky Way
and the Sporting News at the newsstand
hoping to rub elbows
with some of the players
as they paused there
on the way to their rooms.
I can also remember sitting there
one time gaping at the Embassy Room marquise
when it advertised the Supremes singing there -
I also liked to lobby sit in the lobby of the Aster Hotel
near Times Square where our family would stay
on trips to New York
and maybe catch a glimpse of say a new phenomenon -
then a bag lady as she wandered in looking for a place to take a load off
or else I hoped to see some Band standers from Philadelphia come through
as they were there in New York spending the weekend
to appear on **** Clark's Live Saturday Night Show from New York.
Also I enjoy sitting in lobbies of the Desert Inn and Siam City in Fort Lauderdale
listening for the Yankees serve on the Clure Migas sports segment
on the late night news
or else sitting in the lobby of the Ordillone Hotel on Miami Posada
watching the McCarthy hearings.
One time when I was lobby sitting at the local Ramada Inn Hotel in Champaign
some Champaign police came in and ordered me out
and said something to the effect of "if you want to lobby sit, go up to Chicago and do it
but not here - this can barely be called a small city"
But yeah the satisfaction of lobby sitting in general.

Yeah jujubes the candy
of the student council in the sky
and would-be upper crust -
it's just as exciting as fruit-striped gum.
Hard little sorta gum candies with a **** cavity -
must be the eyeballs
I don't know whether
hard candy has a mystique
or if it's just "more better"
as the blacks would say
but at least it's good for the breath -
say legs.

Dan the Man they call him,
as well as Danny some times,
I bet he likes clams
and even a good slice of spiral ham,
Dan the Man
He says he worked with his hands.
I believe it -
brick mason, he said.
His big "guns" might prove it.
He seems nice
yet with a dry, caustic wit
sometimes.
He has good taste in movies,
relatively speaking,
to some people,
although probably just to pick out DVDs
out of the library
and get it on the big dayroom TV
is friendly
and days he loaded and
unloaded chopped in 'Nam.
I believe it,
even though he might have covered up boyhood polio
to get in.
Is that a sin?
I covered up about 8 maladies
myself to get in.
Yeah, Dan the Man
although some might frown on
his so-called caustic wit.
His wit is a fit.
He even likes to read
and has a wide range of interests
and would have made a good priest
in my opinion.
Catholic, I know,
pretty much for sure
I'm sure a tour in 'Nam.

Danville's minor league baseball
team I got a request to write about
just like that one about Dan.
It's fun to go to their stadium
at dusk.
The sun still beats down.
The concessions are prompt and tasty.
Of course the players' homes
are scattered all around.
They've got ability, of course -
you can't even make little league
without being somewhat good,
and some of the players
rose to play in the majors, although
I can't remember names.
The stadium was the original place
that they made a movie at
about Babe Ruth called The Babe
with John Goodman playing Babe.
The last coach seems competent.
They have I guess a raffle
but being a bad luck artist
I don't pay attention to stuff
like that.
They have a good public
address system and the help seems
competent,
and there's a good cross-section
of people in the stands
some of whom are fascinating to
look at.
They usually win when I go
and even have an elevator
for the disabled or
handicapped.
Yeah the Dans -
Lets give em' a hand -
a night at the ballpark
with them is a pleasure
although for certain people
a night there might
haunt them with memories
of what might have been
for them in a yesteryear
what with some of their
players gone in a couple
of years, the ghosts of
future and past big
leaguers, the wooden benches, and the
gratitude on some of
the fans' faces just
to watch a single game

Charles Sturies
in his lurid services
searching for Glory,
remembering Saffe
as in Sister
not or *****
remembering his Florida vacation
drive and his mother's fistula
doesn't get visions,
wanting to live in the city,
a sturdy fellow searching for a stale mate
trying for courage
and ridiculous civility.
Charles Sturies
there's scourge
for your porridge
Hit one for Nancy
and Nancy's friend Rita Boria
and one of your fantasies,
Piper Laurie
Harry Sturies

Right on a carousel
we ride
in West Covina
lifting our voices
to the tune
of You Got to Me
by Neil Diamond
or his song Street Shiloh
or that classic
Heaven Might Be Missing An Angel
by Favares.
We hear
but might jeer
at a Led Zep title
but our spirit
is the same
not knowing
It's All in the Game
or That's
What Becomes of the Broken
Hearted

I like a tough steak at a regular steak house
(I'm one of those people that doesn't have to have everything tender)
Filet Mignon the spaced out king
pricey Prime Rib
a juicy T-Bone
steak kabobs
a decent well-done steak sandwich,
the non-fatty round steak that
mother used to make
a real rare piece of steak
a cooked by me steak at a
real nice steak house
where the gimmick is cook your own
except for their steak kabob
same with Mister Steak,
that and Outback Steak House in general
Longhorn's will do for something like that!

I'm tired of people singling out others as ugly
When we all know beauty is in the eye of the beholder
A so-called ugly chick a male has no right to scold her for "it".
She's bolder.
She wants someone to hold her
and isn't worried about being in anyone's folder
or if the movement she needs is on her shoulder
or if anyone wants to mold her
or if she deals with what anyone told her.
She just feels the fellow makes things colder.
And she worries if whether he's gonna take a gun
and with bullets load her.
She just wants some attention
regardless of whether to look at her is fun
and furthermore she doesn't want to put the guy
in the Brooklyn House of Detention or anything like that
and that's a fact

Who's on top?
Wait a minute, I gotta sop
my brow
to find out about the old cow
and how
not to growl
our sows
and their milk
who never feel
the interchange
of lending a hand
to that with expands

Come to me
to tell me of the pain
the mistakes here and there
the tears shed therefore,
the resulting love
of "mankind",
the search for something
to console you
even if its just a stray dog,
walk the walk
talk spiritually
and tell me about
the soul you have
when you get that lump
in you throat.
When, love.
That's you
and much, much more.

Tuffet that cheek
with tongue in cheek
but don't ascertain
how rosy your cheeks really are.

The all-around beauty of Brie Larson
The sassy rascally *** appeal of Shaun Robinson
Yes, Charlize Theron's dignity
Yes, Courtney ***'s nice smile
And oh those legs of Olivia Newton John's
The raw beauty of Melissa Claire Egan,
The joy of life that Jane Fonda exudes,
etc.

McCartney got by with a little help from his friends
I got by with a little help from my little friends
like a broken toothpick
that's come in handy
like for example getting the McDonald's
hamburger meat out
from between my High German
spaced out teeth
or a bent one last cigarette
in a semi-wadded used up soft-pack
of Camel regulars
or that kind of retractor that fir
inside of 45 records
to play an inspirational
song like I Want
You Back by the
Jackson Five was
at the time when I
couldn't find a
friend myself.
McCartney was lucky
with friends.
I had friends too, sure
but I don't think they
know I was down and out
and living on a retiree pay
of $180 a month
and practically supporting 8 black guy
"buddies"
at the same time.
But there always was
a "friend indeed for a friend in need"
so I survived intact
and yes
am still intact

Amanda Peet
in a front seat
I could see repeat
of her feat
A real petite is she?
She's probably part Crete
and doesn't reek
and doesn't have to seek.
Her floor doesn't go creak.
She's probably part Greek
too
and no spooky tooth
like me,
me, of course, though just a fancy
She -Amanda_ makes my heart go tang
like I want to hang
with the gang
she sang
when the bell went clang
and we sang Auld Lang Syne
in time
for a lark?
and yeah the Tockers

Wish bone offense
umbrella defense
There's an instant replay in the left,
900 wooden horses on the right,
marching in time
to the little people in the stands,
big people actually,
rooting on their team.
Let's hear it for "the boy".
Let's give "the boy" a hand
all the woodchopper's ball
though,
or what?

The Neil Diamond song of
those last 2 years - Melody Road
tells me the seconds tick away
to this deadline and that
deadline that I've set
for myself
to be goal-oriented for once.
Purposes I learned
at first as in Aristotle
but aimless wandering
has made me believe
in the subconscious
and how the sledgehammer
might land
right in my hand.
So settle down
I tell myself,
regroup,
and don't be afraid
to have some goals
rather than prosper
late in life

She's a little thin,
but a real nice figure,
fantastically dressed
and oh so saucily, sassily
****
I bet not a techy
something traditional I bet
with good bloodlines
and touch of fellow Scot in her.
I pretend to say to her Look in my eyes honey.
I'd love to see you disrobe
discreetly in front of me
and we go from there,
but I don't know you
I just admire you.

Regal, dignified in posture
None of that "too feminine a moisture",
nicely dressed
she doesn't wear red much
but would look good in it
and she is so exquisitely pretty
that it's a real pleasure to look at her
and also fun to see in her unusually **** thinness
but she doesn't have aids.
She has a light air
about her
and a great sense of humor
and exquisite taste,
especially in music -
she mentioned Rick Ross
and Pearl Jam.
Since I want her,
nice and tall,
attractive and thin for sure
I'm somewhat embarrassed
since she's a rather young
but neat woman
nevertheless.

That they grind their teeth
That they have a thing about
That they worry about being seen watching MAS*H
That they're considered crass
That they need to empty the trash more
That they're temperamental unnecessarily
That they're fruitte'
That their hands smell like lard
That their women have dishpan hands
That they can't get the dirt out from underneath their fingernails
That they get **** on their hands when they wipe their ***
and that sometimes their hands smell like **** therefore, or rusty tap water anyway.
Let's get real.
He said judge ye not.

Frightfully cool, as a matter of fact,
as in a midsummer's apple pie a la mode
come down cold chills.
Remind me of when I had thought
I was an alcoholic when I
was living at home goin' to the U of I
and would have just chugged 3 beers and
thrown up time after time it seemed
barhopping on campus
and would get the shudders on
our front porch afterward
thinking about it,
or the brat I had tasted at
the local campus brat house
wondering what wonder was,
why we were blessed with a
Stevie Wonder himself at the time
and if that had anything to
do with Wonderbread?

Aguiyo
Pacquio
Shania
Mariah
Shenequet
Kennekuk
Lend a hand
But take a message to Maria?
Shania you handle it?
and Mark Aguirre?
Maybe
He's wiry enough
Hank wasn't

When my soul was in the cloak room
You came along to claim it
Out in San Luis, I guess
That was you, Cheryl, wasn't it?
But I do want to start over,
Since I've alienated
certain people with my behavior
at least I think I have,
but, oh well, you can't cry
over spilt milk.
I asked one of the CNAs here at the VA
if she agreed
and she said that's life,
implying probably that that's the essence of life to me
at least as if life was all a series of
chronological mistakes
Makes sense to "wise old" me, at least, though, ** ** **.

I don't know whether it's a deadly sin - I just can't help it.
Just you, cool black Jew in a way, you'll do
Tjose tight-fitted legs
generate ,y mind
as I anticipate marriage
and my thighs on yours.
You nice breath
will enable me to anticipate
a nice Italian beef dinner.
Your go, Yahweh, is similar
to us Muslims' Allah
so it'll be spiritual, too.
Maybe there will be
more modes than that.
Then we'll e down
for an evening on TV where you
explain to me
the significance of MAS*H
or the Beverly Hillbillies
or as we watch a DVD
what's so hot about Tom Hanks
I didn't change with the times
but my **** will be hard enough for you
I bet.
Cheers
(I could follow that one a little, though.)

Difo
*****
******
Killjoy
Kilroy
Rodgers, I'm of Gene Autry
fan.
******
*****
My ding-a-ling or yours?
I regret
that I have just
one life to give
for my country.

Well, the heart is a lonely hunter
Sweets for my sweet
Sweet surrender

P.S. But if you want to know, It's in his kiss

Transcendental Meditation
Lack of constipation
A certain Vilification
With regards to transportation
and resuscitation
No there's no getting over you.
You come out of the blue
as if you're about to sue
all those who put you in the news
'cause that;s the way of Broadway,
not to be ******
or *****.
yeah Turner
and Mommy
and no more ***** laundry,
Rich Cosby,
or belonging to Conroy

Maggie Murch
Thought she had to lurch,
go back to church
and flirt.
Her feet weren't
right on the turn
of the firm
of the win
that would burn
Maggie Murch,
I've got to learn.
Oh Maggie
go back to the baggie
and sacky
and stop making me be your lackey.
That's, in my opinion, tacky.
She'll probably, behind my back, call me fatty.
Yeah lachte
But no, you're not like all that, or catty
and yeah you probably got a black friend named Hattie
I'll see you Saturday
and drop the name Mattie

Lean on
Dream on
Gleam on
Scream on
Ream on
Team on
All gone
in the Algonquin
Yeah Juan
and John
and an ex-con
and the man called the Fonz

Yes, I could I bet -
Dispel the myths about the so-called
white trash that I talk about elsewhere
but it'd be too involved
I'll just sift in and call attention
to our own image of
to some people
I guess clammy paws, bad breath
and BO making me considered by them to be a drp
as opposed to the white trash labeled I talk about and say, one
I know how the white-trash called
victims feel
due to how eerily my own label
haunts me
there's got to be a connection
but two as they say
Sticks and stones may break my bones
but names will never hurt me.
and it takes one to know one

Looking in on
Jack the Giant Killer, the movie
and nestling my head right
into your shoulder dear

I arouse you,
I bet,
from time to time
but you arouse me back
such that I want to have you
But to all concerned
a VA psych ward
is not the appropriate place
for a love tryst
in my opinion
but let's let
nature take its course
and anticipate some prolonged
foreplay.

Sad souvenirs of a bygone ear
when Terra Firma was de rigeour
and the jocular nature of
Santa Claus the myth
reigned over our prize possessions
Sit down here,
and take a load off,
Allah.
Yes you've come to earth
'cause it's such a mess.
Thanks for everything, so far.
I did my best.

I guess me, Charles, was in charge.

The stress is too great for me
as Doc O'Connell says
to take on the leadership of my ward.
I've got a lot of retirement years
to enjoy, he said
so don't come unglued, at back
let the ward run itself
and just enjoy, enjoy.

Oh Juday
Sweet Juday Jew -
Judy blue - green eyes
take me up to the skies
If I lie,
get me high
or the cycle of
lust
will repeat itself,
If that's what you want -
if you like your basic
gentleman - my thought
as to one aspect of me
Then I'm free
to maybe
be a certain has-been
someday
if I can find a way
to get you out
of what I think
is an inferiority complex
because of Gail Sway

Man's actions are like
cranapple.
They're reaction
to tenaction.
The reaction
is creation
of regulations
and dissemination.

Do you like good music
that sweet soul music?
Is it in his kiss?
Is it in his kiss?
Do you wanna know?
Do you wanna know?

City lights talk to me
as I travel through the night
on the interstate
by car, by bus
or as I can see on a train
or from an airplane looking down.
Even the lights and so forth
of small cities, towns, small towns, and villages
that I travel through
speak to me.
A dirt road on a farm
or small town highways
and roads as they talk.
Yeah New York City and
the character it has of its own
at night especially
and driving the van with the cops honking
and people streaming
into the streets.
Yeah looking up at the jet airlines
at night as they talk to one with
their lights twinkling
This is soul to me, especially
Cleveland at night
and the Baltimore Bethany at night
and looking at the nooks and
crannies of big city ghettos
as you pass though on a
Greyhound during the day and night.
Yeah the chills you can get
especially at night
and daydreaming that
the 2 songs - Hot Child in the City
by Nick Gilder and You
Belong to the City by Glen Frey
as you waltz through big city
streets especially at night
thinking you're a tough
guy with epilepsy or something as you start
shaking or a been-around
drugster like I fancy myself

Gallman
Baunan
Leann Taliaferrus?
(promised Tolliver, Taliaferro, i.e.)

I liked professional wrestling at one time, but mainly because I thought the names Rick Flair and Andre the Giant has a nice ring.

I liked kickboxing when it first came out.
Home plastic, right?!

I just loved Treasure Island when I was reading it as a little boy and like either Tom Sawyer or Huck Finn, whichever was the easy one - at least for me - I think it was Tom Sawyer and I found Huck Finn hard when I started it - too hard for me so I stopped that chore, to me.

I hate to read, but yes, I think it's good mainly for just little old me I think I'm so (as a friend called it) im-po-tent.

I think it's east to like the Yankee in baseball, Brooms Brothers in Ivy League clothing, and Land Lubber and Britannia in jeans.
It is, isn't it?

I like barflys. They're loveable to be with to me and their base baby faces and a certain inseams, fake or not, I think.

I practically say in my writing that I like all underdogs irregardless but I've found at one time or another some Jews to be offensive, some blacks obnoxious, and some Latinos hateful.
That smacks of real hypocrisy, right?
Enough of this.
I'm just spouting off,
I guess.

Some people can get just the right LPs.

Some people can get just the right CDs.

Some people can pick out the right tea and the right amount and kind of jeans.

Me, I couldn't figure out what to buy if I had to, and I find myself the guy who wants to know what to buy.

Money grows on trees to me so actually that really isn't true, that's why I want to know what to buy.

I throw it away on things I don't need.
But believe in giving someone some money is sorta investing in them like they're ready for show business success or somethin'.

Or sometimes I give people some money just for the hell of it.

I'm incompetent maybe, or a soft-touch, period.

Or else what I think is both philosophical and philanthropic.

(I give to charities as much as I deem fit.)

So pass off money giving point blank as giving to charity point blank.

Some of my money gifts are good cause I bet.

I still don't know what the whole problem is as what some lack of it has to do with any competency or lack thereof, or my financial success or lack thereof.

I do pass off frivolous giving, though as due to fear of being mugged sometimes.

Things have gotten fuzzy to me ever since my breakdown, so I figure it's just wanting to yes, buy almost anything.

Figure that out - of course, you gotta have money to buy, but I think there's some sorta kickback, and that what comes around goes around means.

But I'm also easy come easy go.

Who knows?

It's me, being a broken record
Yeah the expression of Zep-pul
in as in they're good but most people
cared about what they consider an obscure
rock group from "across the water"
Wooo, Awesome - words they say that really describer
something just here in the States to
them that get on my nerves since the
people who utter them find themselves
so worldly I want to know what are they doing being patriotic for.
Tolkien novels and those movies with
Daniel Radcliffe - I'm big deal since
most Americans are about fantasy with a
European bent.
Far out describing a crazy person seems to
be implying that the crazy are a bunch
of simpleton communists if what my
guess is by what they mean by far out is correct.
These are just a few of the utterances of
pinkos in the country who in my opinion want
to overthrow the federal government.

I think I'm a ****
and that I have to lurch
that I'm what is known
as a high **** or herk.
But I know how to flirt.
That I should compensate
chortle chortle
All for the sake of movement
of mental health.
I realize I'm kind of
a wet blanket,
objecting to things
that might make for parishioners
and I don't think I'm a
voice in the wilderness
or of course the vox populi,
but I like the think
I'll sink or swim
on a whim
of a hint
of that very same sink or swim
when it comes to good
mental health I call it
or new trends in things
It's because of my bitterness
for not changing with the times
or just lack of self-esteem
who knows why
as if I'm complex
and trying to be my own psych tech.
I'm sorry for reiterating
this subject several times before.
I know there's only one way to describe
a mental state but that's just not true

Flex
Hex
Tex-Mex
Set
and fet
Let me
Met
Musc-le I don't have
so knuckle
up
There's lovable
trouble.

As I typed
I felt I could write
without being trite,
say something right
and light
on a mite
to fight my usual good fight.
Sometimes, the content
is a fusion
without allusion
That's what I'll call it,
not that the purpose of my poetry
is to put down all this **** stuff.
It's typed up by some hippie sage
that doesn't mind my wages
and doesn't act like I've got him locked up in a cage.
Yeah, the typewriter, the printing press
the computer, and the copier
and the printed word, in general, everywhere.

There he was all alone
Fighting on the billboard
His relevance shown
It came with a flow
Spiderman is a teenage boy
that flies around
and lands like a toy
on the ground.
He has an African-American girlfriend
in high school
that he has to stand up
to go on a mission to fight a fool
played expertly by Michael Keaton
Spiderman doesn't have too a boyfriend
He seems "clean" to me and on
the up,
not that I would hate him
if he was for example a bisexual
They're surely not fishing
with looks like Tiny Tim
and even a *******.
They seem not fishy too
He fights mission after mission
fighting grandiose figures
seething repression
On and on the action goes
Spiderman is the hit of the show.

Savoring the cotton candy, my heart leaps at the thought of a ride on the Ferris wheel.
But I want to feel free.
It's good, the thrill
even if I have gotten suicidal sometimes, I don't feel like leaping from it now
and I feel secure sitting there
with a pair.
The roller coaster
jolts me into an
euphoric sense of oblivion
where my mind
flashes back and forth
to the grains of sand
that I think we are
and how it looks
like we're little people as we ride.
Yeah a carnie
and all that goes with it though
like the other rides, for
example.

Neither one seems highfalutin
not worried whether their salads have croutons
and the myths surrounding both of them,
and that tear 'em apart, they'd both seem on the mend.
Discussions seem pertinent
not about the latest street merchants.
Topics include climate change.
I wish everybody would drop the subject
and be satisfied with the climate as it is.
It gets to be a haze
with the problem suggested to be the public
as if we just aren't with it
if we don't care to talk about it.
The election meddling?
I don't know what was said
but there was probably someone outside heckling
and in the meantime wanting a med.
They discussed aspect of war
maybe
but not so much, I bet who they're for
and they didn't make casual remarks like save me.
This topic was suggested
just like the Spiderman poem.
I did my best with both of them!

No one looks like Bozo.

One I thought looked like Emmit Kelley without makeup but I really don't know how that is.

One looks like a humorous orderly in Mount-Sade.

One looks like Magpie, a little movie scene whom I think might have a great Native American seeing her right there in the picture gallery of Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee.

One looks like how you'd imagine an African-American Wyatt Earp would look.

One looks like that mafia I saw in Sport Magazine once where he was in a crowd at a major league baseball game and somebody yelled **** the umpire and it showed him pulling a revolver out of his zoot suit coat pocket.

One looks like a humorously very windy African-American man like Bill Cosby might have looked to some.

Motley Crue they're not.

Roocoo trying to trip on kerosene fuel they're not.

This group of fellows are funny without being snots.