tom walks to work
and i bike here
we keep track of the rain
the snow, the cold
because we’re in it
we feel the scorching heat
our colleagues who drive in
live in a dream world

I DID IT!
did i do it well?
not material
just doing it is what matters
that’s how i explained it
when they locked me up

pulling the plug on a covid stroke patient
his brother MUST be in the room
"i gotta be there – i GOTTA be there"
he insists on the phone
and even though it’s perilous to be in the room--
when the breathing tube comes out
the patient will be coughing covid in all corners--
the hospital protocol says it’s a-ok
the man can by all means inhale his brothers’s deadly breath
BUT  
at 4 pm, the anointed time, he’s not there
we call – "are you coming?"
he’s dead drunk and not going anywhere
MEANWHILE
the patient’s fiancé wants to ZOOM in for the end
we set up a laptop at the foot of the bed
aim it at the poor fellow
and as i pull the tube to send him on his way
there’s SCREECHING from the computer
what the hell are we listening to?
is that martin lawrence and a piercing laugh track?
she’s got her tv BLASTING some old situation comedy
to usher her man into eternity

just had a conversation
with our cafeteria worker/union organizer
he’s on fire in his 5 kilowatt way
someone took down his flyer
at the hospital starbucks
"it’s capitalism," he fumed
as he gave me my biscuit and gravy
and a LOT of bacon
since i’m a fellow traveler

there’s one murderous tree
putting itself in front of every car
it’s a serial killer
there’s one crippled kid in the ICU
he’s in every bed
one set of frantic parents pacing every hall
standing shellshocked in each room

it’s a neat metaphor
the single kid and singular set of parents
when there’s zillions of each
but i’d watch out for that son-of-sam tree

on the day i reached enlightenment
i wrapped myself in blankets
for a smudged moon
ferried a snare drum and trumpet
on a bicycle of varese
annointed all nymphs worthy of me
and told the nurse with the ****** rings
i was ready to polish her brass
i slaughtered the innocent
loosened the bowels of intellect
and figured it the **** out

america is living in two eras simultaneously
to the white nationalists, their desperate crises are current
the latest news-- they MUST storm the capitol
to the educated, this is history
fascists?  nazis?  
a rerun, hard to take seriously
leaving them defenseless

no motivation today
except the job must be done
so dive into the routine
follow the track
lock in the groove
overcome inertia
let it drag you through the day

why read a book about richard feynman?
because if it’s well-written
you feel like you could be richard feynman
and that would be cosmic

i don't wanna go in the room
according to his chart
the patient got in a car with a bunch of his friends
only to realize he didn't know any of them
they molested him and tossed him out of the car
and when he got to the hospital
he was molested again the emergency room
that's what it says in his chart
i don't wanna go in the room
because when i get out of the room
i may be part of his epic saga

my neighbor keeps her bicycle chained outside year round
that was MY plan when i moved in here
i see her bike in the rain, i see it in a blizzard
rusting, sneezing, freezing, wheezing
i chuckle every day at its deterioration
i didn’t do the stupid thing, by accident
on a whim, i made the wise decision
and every day i’m a smug ******* enjoying it

you’re confronted by a special kind of stupid
when conversing with an idiot who’s so **** sure
he’s so **** smart

as these things go, it’s a happy ending
he tried shooting his girlfriend in the face
the gun jammed so he turned it around
aimed it under his chin and pulled the trigger
surprise -- it unjammed
the bullet tore through the mouth
and exited the left eye, missing the brain entirely
and even though he arrested thrice
before we got a breathing tube in
a week later we’re shuffling him out of intensive care
"hey look, Sure Shot’s leaving," i say to my partner jeff
to which he responds, "you mean Old Dead Eye?"

put on the radio
let’s adore the latest sad fantasy
they’re selling us

kids don't believe what they're taught
they reject everything
as they should
because everything is wrong
there's no justice
except random justice
so spit out this world
until you can't spit anymore
then you have to swallow
and that's what you're made of

old age is a cul de sac
you can rev your engine
but you ain’t going nowhere
except the junkyard
ha!

a libertine nutcase doing exactly what he wants to do
breaking things that need to be broken
getting paid for it, getting laid
drugging, drinking and mutating the scenery
until he pulls his own plug
seems like a golden shore
when you're "commuting" to "work"
and dragging "home" for "dinner"

we shared manhattan
me partying in fetid basements
you dancing on skyscrapers
magic is a mild word
it’s a miracle we’re alive
so let’s hook up one more time
i’ll meet you at midnight
on the tip of the empire state building

i could brag about my night
but to who?
what sentient being is epicurean enough
to appreciate my palate?
cosmopolitan enough
to follow my exploration?
who has mastered the physics
to dig my trajectory?
there’s only one
back to the mirror!

you can’t come out ahead
not with death picking your pocket
on your way out the door
but maybe you can balance the equation
reconcile the molecular weight
of the positive and negative
like the moon tonight
it’s a perfect glowing circle
the moon is a balanced equation
your life can be the same
if the wind blows your way

by that measure
this year was a mindblower

if there’s a perfect segment of your life
put it on the wall
and charge yourself admission
like i’m doing right now
i straddle the planet
and scoff at my helpless emotion
i scrape up any tears i cried
spit them at passing airplanes
and balance the astonishing equation

it works

some artists are genres in themselves
like Dr. John
when hacks replicate them for profit
Monkees vs. Beatles
Beastie Boys vs. all of hip hop
sometimes they strike gold
they’re playing the fun parts
distilling the hooks that work best
making them better than the real thing
sometimes phony wins

there’s no escape
from exploitation
all that you eat
animal or vegetable
was alive
trying to survive
that fire you make
the wood was a tree
buoyantly breathing
the virus reproducing in you
just wants to thrive
you vs. it
a zero sum game

today i want to play my harpsichord
and i have to clean the gutters
why wouldn’t i play the harpsichord first?
we all know the planet’s in bad shape
what if the world ends at noon
and i cleaned the gutters
and didn’t play the harpsichord?
tragedy

usually you think what you're supposed to think
a stray diseased notion may infect you
but the antibodies of society eradicate the menace
so the rivers of money keep flowing
into the oceans of the rich
and no one loses sleep
including you

i don’t beat myself up
far from it
every line i write crackles
every note i play sings
but if i had to perform an autopsy
on the ludicrous things i’ve done
and smart things i haven’t done
bypassed opportunities
and episodes i might regret
or should regret
i’d lay blame on short-sightedness
and laziness
not stupidity
selfishness?  yeah
malevolence?  nah
and a low hum of fear
which keeps me human
so **** it
i’m perfect

i bought a plunger and a bottle opener
it’s all an intellectual needs

call it religion
slaughter the heathen of choice
the easter bunny commands it
call it education
keep the kids prisoner for twenty years
then crush them with debt as they exit the jail
call it government
watch king and crew siphon money from the realm
call it entertainment
knock out the brains and ******* the senses
call it love
a mess
call it life
a tremendous blip in the firmament

i want to slide downhill
with woofers in my ears
i want to either save the planet
or leave a large crater in it
give me blue neon city lights
and lulu singing to sir with love
i want the blues in every note
(but without the blues fans)
i want fat to be the new thin
and i want time to roll backwards
i want the folds of my thalamus to flatten
not a stroke but nirvana

you go to her/him with something you gotta do
that you know is wrong in some way
and she/he presents a convincing argument
as to why it’s right and has to be done
by you

so you wonder if dumb luck is going to save you
son, it’s the only thing that will

cheer up, my talented friend
as far as picking up chicks online
an out of work drummer
and an out of work Broadway drummer
are two different species

a limited frame of reference
that’s why people are such morons
they’re not inherently stupid
just narrow and myopic
you’d think with tv, the internet
easy transport and open borders
eyes would be wide
nope

(obviously i wrote this poem before the borders closed)

i’ve worked out what to say
to whiny patients in the hospital:
"your dissatisfaction was expressed
quite eloquently...
may i retort?"

we were sitting on atwood street
drinking beer and admiring the students
i was stumped:
"how come only women
came back to college this year?"
it was pointed out to me
there were just as many males as females
but i failed to see them

the concept of william byrd is weightless today
he wrote the music on my current hit list
which has everything and nothing to do
with a fellow who roamed london in 1586
named william byrd

where’s it gonna end?
countdown from some to none
sinking into the mud from which we sprung
but come on sparky
sink a drink and compel the fatcats
to share the wealth
and when you do your job
complain all you like
moaning helps ease the pain
a medical fact

it’s not much of a mystery
the law says police can **** you
if they’re afraid of you
they’re terrified of black people
so there you go

i look death in the eye
and say "give me a cough"

it’s friday
trump is still a dangerous *****
the republicans who enable him
are a cynical bloated disgrace
his diehard followers
(alright, much of the country)
are a sad crew of suckers

there--  i feel a lot better
now i can get my BBQ on
and listen to the ******* surfers

if you can't play your set drunk
you can't play rock'n'roll
no judgment
straight fact
take it from a guy
who rehearsed down the hall
from the ramones

it’s all chemistry
physics is the shuffling of chemistry
biology is when physics blows chemistry in life’s direction

there have been four so far
never consummated
through ignorance and morality
if i knew then...
but if i had made it with them
would they glow the same way?
am i the one who got away for them?
and for my wife of twenty years
i'm not him
me and the kids are right here
and he's back there somewhere
a beguiling smile in the window

oh no
my sacrum has dissolved into the earth
and i can’t get up

today i’m a respiratory therapist
treating covid patients in a city hospital
the denial of science in this country
is having glaring consequences
the punks that we were at age 20
wouldn’t have been surprised
at the militant ignorance
of some of our fellow citizenry
the difference is that back then
we would have laughed

why is it necessary to hate walter’s BBQ?
because the customers are young
comfortable and smiling
(reason enough, but not just that)
they’re all white in a largely black city
a white clientele for a BBQ place
a pricey BBQ place
a couple of black women come in
they take turns taking photos of each other
and leave without ordering
that’s why

don’t complain about her complaining
that opens up a hall of mirrors
and echo chamber
of complaints infinitum

is god speaking to me?
am i the genius of my own topology?
do i have an iceberg in my pocket?
are my insights contagious?
are my revelations fatal?
am i just rearranging legos?
am i flaky in that way?
is there a point?

dreamt about a hermaphrodite
maybe you can teach new tricks
to an old stag

sorry but
you gotta crash every once in a while
or you’re not really riding

summer was sunnier in the 60s
and the 60s were made for kids
my folks had backyard BBQs
with the tijuana brass in constant spin
i don’t know if it was my mom or dad
who put it on, but they both dug it
them and their friends and neighbors
me and my sister too
best part of my short time with them
i grew up, had a family, threw BBQs
merriment with wacky musicians jamming
between burgers, feeding
the most cartoon characters in town
i’m glad my kids have magical family times
to turn back to, as i do
every time i hear those spanish trumpets