Pessimists are good lenders -
because they know
I’ll never return what I borrow
and it’s not worth trying to get
me to return anything

Pessimists are honest
because they tell me I’m horrid
and worthless and have no talent –
whereas my wife tells me lies about how
unique and fantastic I am
and how I’m destined
for greatness and fame
the same lies my parents and teachers
and all the sugary people in my life
told me to believe in
and so brought me to grief and megalomania–
better a pessimist than incorrigible liars

Pessimists let me do what I want:
jump the queue, rob them in daylight
steal their cars and take what I like -
because they say, with a helpless shrug:
“That’s human nature – especially people of his kind!”

Pessimists tell me the world will end tomorrow
that I’m destined for hell and I’ll never come to good –
hey, that allows me reason never to try
enjoy life for the moment
and just cruise along and let everybody else
die of stress and work-addiction

*Pessimists I love
for they validate everything I do ;
truly, they were made for me,
for they make my every wrong right…bless ‘em pessimists

My straight back is broken
I can hardly keep an upright posture now
as I once used to
but my spirit is not broken,  Sirs
And though I lean on a walking stick
which is my devoted companion -
more useful to me than a daughter or son
(my wife passed on , Sirs
poor woman she went three years ago) -
I still have my dignity, a sense of my worth, Sirs
O you who enquire where I come from -
where I come from is the past, Sirs, truly
(I do not mean to be insolent in that)
for truly time has eaten much of my memory
and all that was mine or familiar
or what was worth holding on to
The streets here are my home, Sirs
so I know my present
what corner I can find
when the bones are weary;
but otherwise I wander the streets
where my legs will carry me
and where the city police will let me;
and where there are no street urchins, I tarry
And I have naught to do but observe
the energetic world go by
(a world wearied in its own drive)
with which I am disconnected
And that has no personal meaning for me
except for its occasional kindness
But that Sirs, if I may go now, is my beginning and end
and all that which is mine…as my wife might say,
and she said, as the good woman died:
*Well, if it pleases you or not, I must go now

perhaps it is today
that he will return
walking up
the bend down the road

he said he’d come back
when the lights are dim
over the earth
"I’ll bring," he said,
"enough food and money
to see us through many days"

the children have waited
with silent eyes
and I tell them
each dusk:
“It is tonight
your father will return”

but I have waited
a month – two, three it seems
and the force slips in my voice
though I keep my heart and hope strong

perhaps it is today
that he will return
walking up
the bend down the road

(WARNING: some of you may not find this to your taste)


SONG of the ROYAL FOOD-TASTER
It’s always feast day
at the Court of King Eatmore
and Queen Yumyum
Bring it on, dish after dish -
anything that’s Meat, we’ll eat
When I arrived at Court
from my far-off village
I was but skin and bones
Now as Trusted Royal Taster
I am as big as Her Majesty’s –
Burp! – ****


SONG of the ROYAL JESTER
Bring it on
anything that moves
We’ll spike it through
for the spit -
with the spike through the mouth
and coming out the other end
For what is man and woman
King and Queen
but a mouth open
and a releasing rear?


CHORUS
Oh let us eat, eat, eat
drink and sate and ingratiate
We love
anything that crawls or creeps
or flies or moves
We can crunch and munch and digest
and add to our folds and waves -
for the World-sized King he said:
“Bring it IN!  Something local,
anything Exotic! Bring it IN!”
And the Immense Queen she screamed:
“Cream! Cream! Cream! More Cream
and Oil on my Pig’s Head!”


SONG of the ROYAL JESTER**
Ah, for what else did Nature fashion
life to be? – one way in and one way out
and lots to retain
Humanity is but a mouth and an ****
connected well in an ever-emptying barrel

I accompanied my master
to the Town market
and on the way back
we had to cross a swelling river

A young woman stood there crying
and she knelt before my master
begging him to carry her across;
and with no second thought
he carried her on his back and took her across
the rapid waters

he left her on the other side of the river
and she bowed and went on her way;
and my Master and I went on our ours

But I was not happy
and did not speak
till we stopped to rest, and I blurted out:
You carried a woman across the river
and she clung to your back -
her body close and tight to yours!

And my master said:
*It appears I left her at the river bank
while you still continue to carry the woman

the practical city man –
executive, driven, productive -
so used to due diligence
always pursuing the best deal
goes to the Zen Master
and asks how long it’d take
to reach clear mastery
“Ten years,” says the Master

“But,” says the would-be student
“I’m willing to throw in double the time
your most diligent student puts in
and applying the principles of productivity -
how long will it take me then?”

“Twenty years,” says the Master

1
whether the weather has changed
or whether the weather is just the same
whether you are a weather skeptic
or a weather septic, or doomsday climatologist –
horribly or incorrigibly either way –
the weather has its field day, and ocean day
either way, trumping all our noses
whatever our beliefs
each day

2
Just a matter of routine
the other day,
all in a day’s work -
roar and boom! went the earthquake
over the city, and everything was rubble –
well, what could be worse than that?
swoosh and **** next it sounded
we had a tsunami coming over –
"Hey, we’re just being helpful," said the deluge
"We’re just washing everything away"

Just a matter of routine the other day
all in a day’s work
Said the hurricane to the coconut trees
along glossy Eden’s shores:
"Hold on to your nuts, you tall fellas -
this is no ordinary ******* you’re gonna get!"
And far out at sea
where Noah might have gone
where ocean meets ocean,
one ocean waved to the other
and beat his chest:
"Did you sea what I just did?"
And irriatted with the silence
it said: “I’m sure you did, beach!"

Just a matter of routine the other day
all in a day’s work