after earning their first grammy, Eddie
Vedder stood with the other guys
in
Pearl Jam and said "I don't know what
this means or what I'm doing here."

how
do we put a grade on art? do we find
our
favorite poem and give it a smiley
face
sticker with an accolade like "good
goin!"?
do we single out a Mattisse sculpture,
give
it a round of applause and an Applebee's
gift card?

I don't have a grade for the
things
I love. that takes the fun out of loving
them.

I'll listen to your song. I'll play it
again.
I won't give it any stars but I'll give
it
all my attention.

Rosenfeld locked the door
And Richards angled a
Lamp to burn fluorescence
Thru my retinas.
"Here" says Rose "a poem
About car parts rusting
Thru the apocalypse"
"Too abstract" a Richie
Retort, "keep it to the
Real. Write about berries"
"No no no, that's *******
Ridiculous" cried Rosen.
I could feel a pen
In palsied hand.
They wanted ink
On paper.
So I wrote words I
Couldn't see,
Etching adverbs
On a neon sheet
Before an electric
Sun.


They had me in that room
For 48 hours
To write the poem in
Front of you.
Surely they could've
Arrested a better
Poet.

A gallon of 2% milk
Untouched since breakfast.
Mexican blend cheese. A
Half eaten sandwich - best
Tuna I've ever had caught
Between your teeth like
Black sturdy nets. The
Bottle of coke you let go
Flat. 8 eggs, washed like
Infants and just as smelly.
Our acid art on black magnets
And the one screaming
Urgent care in a dull office
Font. You go to the kitchen
And leave the fridge closed.
"Tomorrow we're going
Food shopping."

at the moment the sun grows
colder, running shoes are laced.
buds planted in ears to let music
grow.  stretch thru the legs and out
the door -- now he is running
for two miles or more.  *******
down air like coal, this locomotive
just goes, goes goes -- slower now
up a hill, opening a stride before
fertile skyscrapers with applauding
windows.  downtown olympian, do
you do this for fun?  what rhyme or
reason make Hermes' feet run?
sweaty dynamo, athlete without
sport, endurance is a gracious import.
may your heart pump wine thru-
out each vessel. may, like Solo, you
run, these streets your Kessel.

Don't talk to the old man
on the ladder he's likely
cleaning eavestroughs

end to end full of leaves
kite string & black
beetles

He may mumble
teetering on the rungs
but don’t interrupt work

he has enough to handle.

"ever think of babies as pet humans?
I see some on leashes, dressed up in
clothes they didn't choose to wear.  some
photographed under steaming white
lights completely ignorant of what it
is they're doing.  is it defined in their
tiny bodies?  yes.  and they're doggish
grasp of speech.  everyone is a mutt,
from the cradle to the kennel, it's true."

sit and chill a minute.
we all got the time
to waste.
light a blunt and **** it.
savor the flavors, swirling
smoke taste.
indica,
sativa,
anything to please ya//
knockin back,
bowl pack,
I succeed in drawbacks.
if I lived a life too real
I'd lose it fast, got no appeal.