I've been digging
through this dumpster
far too long
trying to get to the bottom of it all.
Slimey sweet stench
there's my first love
my first pipe
my last light
my first rush
my last gush
my first bet
my last buck
"the game ain't over
until the rent money's gone."

I am down a deep hole
and my only tool is a shovel
I've got that one choice
but to go
down
down
down.
Drunk and dial
Drunk and poetry
how did I get here
how do I get out?

I'm a spiritual wasteland
connected to no one
connected to nothing
My drug
My man
My woman
My casino
The rush comes first
The numbness comes last
until
death, insanity or jail
is within my grasp.
I do what I do
But I am allergic too
you understand
when I do what I do
I break out in handcuffs
jail cells
strapped down to beds
looking around
longing for my dumpster
and
what I might have found.

1st Step
12th Step
I've done them all
though the 13th Step
I liked the best
Sponsors have come and gone
Spiritual awakenings
have all been done
I am back in this dumpster
where I had begun.

There is an exquisite mystery
at the heart of it all
the internal shift
happens
an inside job
The 21 year old's first black out
enough is enough
The 60 year old
on his fifth DUI
going out for one more round.

It is true
I have seen it many times
Recovery can be found
Hope restored
Wisdom in these halls
Peace within these walls
The dumpster closed
and left behind
A ladder falls and arrives
acceptance and gratitude
combine
as they say
"One day at a time."

Time & Distance
Erodes
Friendships
Families
Flowers
Sad
we know.

Standing at the edge of mortality
is my work really done?
Looking over at the black abyss
what is one to think?
Time to find god
root for heaven
root for reincarnation
call for your mother
bring a flashlight
the black sack and that's a fact.

Standing at the edge of mortality
my hand over my brow
block the sun?
Too dark for that
Try to see better?
Too late for that.
The precipice stands waiting
and all those who once lived
forever gone
took that plunge.

Standing at the edge of mortality
waiting for the momentary mirror
reflecting backwards in time
highlight reels
lowlife deals
ecstatic moments
unwound in regrets
achievements
done and gone.

Standing at the edge
my children come to me
wondering what breath will be the last
too late for all regrets
all those
if only I hads
there is a tear for that
that's for sure.
If it could all be undone
to do again
what would one do?
These are the thoughts and feelings too
one finds
when standing at the edge of mortality.

But still here
another chance for us my dear
more work to do
on this side of
the edge of mortality.

Step Right Up
Puts hair on your head
Grows neurons in your brain
Makes you take a dare
Connects you with
elves and faires
Turns your fears and anger
into a rarity.

Step Right Up
Dance with me
Dance with her
Dance with him
Spend a week there
one night.

Step Right Up
Gets your expectations
in line with reality
no rejection
All your relationships
will fall into line
Everybody is going to be kind
You're going to jump for joy.

Step Right Up
Money Love Sleep
They are all going to come your way
Open wide
Stick out your tongue
Stick out your hand
Close your eyes.

Step Right Up
A sucker's born every minute
A hustler's a thousand words a mile
We're pulling bucks
out of our pockers too many times to count
Trick and Trap
that's our motto

Step Right Up
Smile
Dial
Email
Text
Promises of total intimacy
and
total isolation
simultaneously

Step Right Up
We've been schooled
We've become tools
Whose the fool?
That's the ticket
Your number's up
Step Right Up

Cast my line
Each time
into the unknown
with
hope.

Imagine yourself
a ball of wax
falling through
a cosmic crack
a ball of steel
both reflecting
and holding all that's real
part of a parade into a cave
chanting about monks
who in their trunks carried enlightenment
too light for longing
too heavy for moving
and there you stayed
what
would you really want to say?
And would it matter anyway?

Imagine yourself
a ball of wax
falling through a cosmic crack
a tiny Katamari
calculating
as you rolled along
picking sticking
lawn chairs, Chevrolets
dancing flames
poets in their heyday
accumulating
distant ideas
lover's lips
and strangers kiss
all kinds of suffering could stick.
Could you find your way home
or is this all you've ever known?

***** of wax could be real,
manufactured ideals,
splendid ribbons of illusions
unwinding and weeping
teaching taking talking twisting
through those cosmic cracks splintering
Relax
This is a a relaxation exercise after all.
Imagine your self a ball of wax
falling through a cosmic crack. ..

Well Annie now you've done it
through your gyrations,  characterizations
imitations
a spot of light of spirit
flipped out into the ether
like some kind of spiritual dandruff
all crystal prisms
twinkling stars shook off of you
and floated
through my eyes and ears
and penetrated and infused
my pumping heart
through my circulatory system
snapping synaptic changes,
touching those places
of
dreams and trances.

Well Annie now you've done it all night long
with images of Olive Oil
and no Popeye
I have become a sailor man
unmoored from the safety of the slip
dragging the anchor
until the tether breaks
and find myself floating
on some Jungian sea
of the unconscious far away from the shore.

Well Annie now you've really done it -
How will this all play out
when walking down the faux marble hallways
as I roll up one wave of imitation
and down another in
clients/secretaries/billing clerks
deranged psychiatrists stories
and all of this reality
grabbing trying ranting riffing
how is this all going to play out
when strange guerilla theatre
erupts on backwards
in administrators offices
and leadership committee meetings
when I spread my  legs
as my grand opening
in carrot top hangings
and turn to clients
offer them too
this spirit spark of
courage.

Well you've really done it this time Annie
when my door is locked
and pagers are begging for my attention
but I will be in the room at that desk
throwing rules, regulations
and my professional reputation
to the current winds of unwinding
truths and soulful stories.
When they turn to me
and ask for my forgiveness
in their true confession
or when I shift shapes
to the big onion
when everyone who wanders near weeps
when they ask me for that magic sentence
to make it all okay
or write a treatment plan
or
just a hand on the shoulder;
as they begin to talk
like rooms of old echoes-
I will tell them that will cost them extra.

You've done it now Annie forever
in my minute little world
rocked the boat
that spirit
like the butterfly wings causing the hurricane
of courage.

You've done it now Olive Oil Annie
I have found my spinach
and
freedom cannot be far behind...