Immersed in thinking about age
thinking about thinking
shoulders seem to stiffen,
worsen each year. OUCH!

My uninterested moving finger
clicks, pings, crackles away
President Reagan's ******-histeronic-gesture
He shimmers, waivers,shrivals away
into a diminutive BB hole
in the center of my TV screen
until nothing
but a slightly hissing grey tube

Making a paper plane
out of newspaper,
small black letters
spell out S-A-L
which is the beginning of the word Salvador,
that eventually meets the dug-out
paper portion of the cockpit

Looking out the window,
three stories up
between locusts and spruce
on thirteenth street,
watching potential victims
trying awfully hard to find
the right vein with ***** needles,
much too strung out
to fully hide their activities
in half hidden alley ways and small hidden streets

An old transvestite
with sad eyes, pucker lips,
looking like "" Whatever happened to Baby Jane"
with two exaggerated
round ruby painted marks
on both cheeks,
slightly wobbles on skinny ankles and heels to match,
stridently he calls forth, "Hi girlfriend"
to his look alike mirror image
just across the street

"Pop" the old provincial street wino,
trying to act as though
he was still a teenager
wearing an old Afro;
a bit demented, he acts out
his cliche' role, half babbling
half representations of life,
trying to sell almost everything
salavaged from trashday
dumpsters

Then tossing this seemingly innocous
hand folded paper plane out of the window,
a sudden horrible gripping feeling
overwhelms me but yet of relief,
Imagining tossing
this very plane,
that I held in my trembling hand
contained an all
devastating device underneath...
          THEN...BOOM!!!
                MUSHROOM SOUP
                             THE END OF MISERY...

Imperialistic meddlers,
men of power greed and wealth
Western Imperialism
not too long ago
was once put on the shelf
Not too long ago
this name was never heard
Its name is New Order of DiSoRdEr
But still us folk of sanity
with eyes wide open
we see their compliance
lock-step herd vanity

In White House spin gone amuck
they throw their bolts of anger
to all countries on the globe
And with more and more displeasure
we witness their destructiveness
from sea to shining sea

But now I hear, see and feel
a distant faint rumbling the rising Valorous
the rumbling stampeding of democracy
by the forceful rightful anger,
the free-spirited valiant word
a word of truth and dignity,
the echo of today,
and aaah yes
to hear the thundering of the mass
To hear the thundering of the mass...

Fashionable entourage
people dance in step
to the beat of hidden
native rituals
Hidden here and there
seeing a pair clad up to the hilt
with colored shades
cool as mountain glades
that never
shakes or simmers
on fire
a real deep desirous searching soul

Rapping about nothing
even though
face to face
words bounce off expressions
as cool as mountain glades
that soon melt-fade
into the distance

Rap, tap, clap
never nap
the cannibus-filled room
embellished by flashing lights
on nights
that take spatial flights
into another world that enters upon
lounging everywhere
people lost in space,
in time,
in androgynous acts

In vogue, you speak to me
about fashions
that dazzle, frazzel, razzle,
and lip curl
and eye twinkle
me to you,
in real
but unreal
cannibus-sweet-dusky-dreamy-rooms
MTV blotched, bleached
Sergio Valente dungarees,
then a real feeling child cries
in the background
and is soon hustled off to bed
And never a hurt we laugh
and smile
   and smile
A frozen smile grin;
take it on the chin sport
Keep up the good front
Keep up the grinning fort sport
A sported fort fortified Disneyland
and life's forever
carousel ride
and sweep the dirt under the carpet

A speak about profits
And speak about"ME" yuppie things;
about golden rings
that wrap around ears, around wrists, and cattle noses

Seek time entwined
to search geometrically
the advertisements
that lead you
and nobody but you to you
A love ballad between
one and no one but you
You and you
        and you
         and you
Being good you
                     you being good to you,
Being good to nar-sa-see-you
                                            you being good to only you,
to yoou
     to yoou
                    to yoooooooooou

Have you forgotten
your pristine ways enhanced with giggles?
And you stood by the roadside,
your hair was tossed by winds
that caressed you

You sang yourself a love ballad,
a soliloquy bestowed
by gentleness

Calmness never circumvented
your kind curiosity

Cotton candy was the imagined
clouds that melted
on your palate
as the world sang

Your hurt was
always kissed away
by kind compassionate lips
And strong nurturing arms
that held you tight against worldly stings

You couldn't spell the word  "spaghetti"
but would say, "passketti"

You dreamt dreams of Popeye,
Spiderman and sometimes monsters

You also dreamt no dreams
made of pure restful darkness

You skipped, danced, and screamed
with excitement at the slightest
silly whimsical gesture

Things that were everyday
primitive and mundane
belonged in the "Smithsonian Institute"

And friends were abundant
And baseball cards were abundant
Adult space was never
emotionally measured
because emotional bridges in friendliness
always bridged gaps

You became the hero or ******
after every Saturday matinee
The moon followed you
The sun shone forever
on summer days

Forward one, back two, forward one,
back two
A turtle's toil, progress is a distant memory
The collapse of civilizations,
we struggle to struggle
Fortitude bends like willow branches;
encampment of silenced voices

Encumbered by greed-swine
sitting in high places savagely
devouring tax-*****
Their everyday grinding
flesh and bone into greed-blenders

We look at each other, shrug our shoulders,
do giddy little side glances, lower them
And just say, " another day, just another day."

I'm looking for magic
Seeking wisdom with the mysterious
nod of an Oracle,
trying magically to change the hearts of the heartless
Searching every flux of human illusions,
of feelings, of human connections, of human desires
And like you my precious one, searching for the tender
Abracadabra of just plain being
Delving into times knowing about the magical rhythm-ride, in time, that passes into the future with you

And yes, I'm quite aware about life's magical-wand of fate change that strokes you with gentleness and at times smacks you with callousness
What hypnotic mysteries lay ahead like pulling from life's hat the timeless night-blinking of our celestial roof, a broken
winter silence stirred by a canine's far distant call
And childish charismatic smiles of children

Just as all of life's surprises the magician's puff of smoke
appears as every sudden joy and sometimes sudden sadness
into a surprise bravo
And to all my beautiful seekers of wonder, prepare yourselves by knowing where there's hope there's
magic
Watch closely as your curtain call of life rises
And experience the screams, tears and cheers of the audience seeking, like you, MAGIC!