an optimist calls this a sunny sunday morning
coffee, cats, colson whitehead’s latest
a pessimist ruminates on gaza
the ukraine, sudan, republicans

i enter unit A-19
the place to be for car accidents, gunplay
and the mayhem people get into
i'm humming que sera sera
get to my space and turn on the radio
baroque sunday
ahhh
now bring on the death and destruction

she was SUNNY FLOWER
a happy ukranian four year old
she had down syndrome, just learned to speak
she loved to push her own carriage after school
through the park, next to her mom
mr. putin
why did you guide your missile
to that beautiful little girl with her winsome smile?
why did you mince her to jelly?
don't you think
you should cut your own ******* throat
in penance?

swedish death metal bands and i
see the world through the same eyes
but i don’t burn down churches
i do things sunnyside up
it’s how i’m built
i help people breathe when they can’t
that’s how i make my millions
i scribble pictures
post poems on lightpoles
make music videos by the hundreds
throw abstract shows
and whip instruments incessantly
to hear them squeal
i brought a family into the world
took care of them
and now admire the amazing trails
blazed by our kids
while swimming in the wake
of my intrepid beautiful
intellectual juggernaut wife
i do sit-ups, lift weights with my
permanently damaged bicycle arm
feed a couple of cats every frigging day
and am probably the library’s
number one customer

drop a spoon, you’re getting company
drop a fork, you’ll have a fight
asinine superstitions
instilled in me by my mother
probably out of the boredom of being a mom
but almost everything we believe is baloney
so who knows
and now i dropped a fork AND a spoon
so someone’s coming over to punch me

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?"

i look in the mirror and wonder
how do i do it?
the **** i have to deal with!
then i think about other folks
and the torture they endure
i throw my hands up
surrender to god
and turn on the TV

i just picked up the monkey wrench gang
a bible for eco-terrorists
an influential text
when i was young i read henry miller
and soon began ******* my brains out
read carlos castenada and added psychedelics to my mix
read bukowski and my upward mobility turned south
now i’m not young
so the monkey wrench gang
probably won’t have me blowing up bridges
which is fortunate
mein kampf is next on the syllabus

it's my only talent
i know where to dig for the gold
and my gold is a renewable resource
music with momentum
harmonies that levitate
meaning where there is none
motivation in a vacuum
women who steal your breath with a glance

express yourself, write what you want
god knows i do
but if you have no talent
and want me to pay attention
show some wit or humor
and you know what?
that’s true even if you do have talent

don’t worry about choosing a tattoo
don’t sweat that you’re gonna have to live with it for life
yeah but no
it’s about who you are when you get that tattoo
not about all the people you’re going to become
that’s irrelevant
of course you’re gonna change
there may come a day when you can’t stand sadie
and groan every time you see her name on your arm
but there was a you who was nuts about her
and that man will always stand guard
over the tricep of your love

consistency is defeat
going to work every day?
coming home?  every night?
TEQUILA!
***** BONGWATER!
look
my totality changes
every day and a half
i’m one slippery *******
so if and when i tumble out your window
it’ll be a nuclear event
molecules exploding
lasciviously recombining
promiscuously bonding with whatever
carnal stray matter catches my eye
by tomorrow morning
i’ll be snowing
all over the universe

hey hon
how’s your morning going?

this unit is like a disaster movie
2 brain deaths
2 self-inflicted gunshots to the head
2 covids (if only there were a vaccine—
oh ****, there is)
1 paraplegic
1 drunken assault
and a very ******* fellow
who was gored by a bull

let’s go out to eat tonight

thank god everyone's texting
looking down every spare
and not-so-spare moment
thank god for the distraction
now illiterate people have something to do

used to be that whenever i saw the proletariat
staring into space at a bus stop
while i was reading a book
i worried about them obsessing on vengeance
daydreaming about our destruction
rising up against us intellectuals

now they can forget about me
and the bus they’re waiting for

man, that phrase covers it all
the shower curtain falling
the autobody repair bill
the inevitable nuclear bomb
those genius republicans
the “innovations” at work
my invisibility in a crowd
melting glaciers that swallow continents
the horror in the mirror (past a certain age)
realizing you live a stranger’s life
our phones compelling us to jump off a bridge
running out of milk for our wheaties
that’s showbiz

you think a rich twit
when he eats the banquet he calls supper
cares whether the peons are republican or democrat?
he just cares that the soup is served hot

rick owned the monkey bar
not the one in L.A.
but his own knock-off in cleveland
and rick wasn’t a big fan
of african-americans he knew
but he was REALLY no fan
of strange african-americans in the bar
however, the pandemic arrived
the white people stopped coming
and the black people kept coming
and rick sat on a corner stool
making money overseeing a black bistro
called the monkey bar
it was like ****** opening a bar for jews
and calling it the chamber

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

when it comes to playing music
i’m not chasing the dream
the dream is chasing me

it’s a big country and a bigger world
there’s arguments for and against everything
one man’s meat is another man’s mcdonalds
for all the bibles of opinion and encyclopedias of conjecture
the citizens see what they want to see
a boy looks in the mirror and sees a hero
that’s what the president sees in the mirror too
then he sends in the marines and builds a library
if the poor believe the rich are crushing them
every bill is a boot
if the rich are afraid the poor want to **** in their pie
they’ll taste dooky
the horndog sees a summer oasis of mermaids
swimming towards him
it’s a big country and a bigger world
and the citizens see what they want to see

when politics is pure circus
the clown becomes ringmaster
merrily grabbing voters by the *****
it's the dancing elephant in the room

"watch out, slow down, what the ****"
that’s my reaction to some truly appalling driving
from my compadre the duke
this would be years ago
he turned to me, smiled and said
“the difference between you and me
is you’re afraid to die"
"no," i said, "the difference between you and me
is i don’t WANT to die"
now i’m an old coot
and the duke never made it to 30
i called that one
but he was a star

the melodies are fanatical
the harmonies are undisclosed
the rhythms are giraffes tripping

at least
that’s how it sounds to the marketplace

the french are crackpot smart
daylong parking in those cafes
gives them copious time to reflect
the results evident in ubiquitous bookstores

but with their prodigious cafe loitering
curb-to-curb restaurants
and cartons of cigarettes
how is it that parisians
don't cascade off their stools
with lung cancer at age 42
leaving craters from their girth
in bistro sidewalks?

as i was visiting a greek friend
yesterday in astoria queens
greek america ground zero
i couldn’t reconcile the deep thinking
of our old friends plato, aristotle, etc.
with the greeks i know
an open-hearted, pragmatic
materialistic UNCOMPLICATED people
maybe plato’s inebriated symposium relates
but there is a basic disconnect

i ran it by a couple of my smarter friends
"look at the italians," said one
"some made art that advanced the human race
while their cousins hung out
on the corner eating pizza"
another pal framed it like this:
"it’s the language
all the declensions and conjugations
steer you to abstract genius"

hmmm…

shootings, stabbings, drunken beatings
car accidents, covid, RSV
all in the last day and a half
gotta love working the holidays
in the emergency room
oh and here's a cardiac arrest
** ** **

the small blonde nurse and i were breaking our backs
transporting the giant patient in the ****** bed to a cat scan

"i’m hot," she said as we slogged through the hospital

"you are kinda hot," i said
"you don’t really need to mention it"

we laughed and she said
"well i’m just putting it out there"

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

there's a moment in every flight
when the plane is banking away from the airport
you get a dizzy view of the landscape
and realize this is nuts

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!

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!

on a warm winter day
i was taping poems to a pole
outside a coffee shop at the edge of the city
as i got back on my bike
the barista sauntered out of the coffeeshop
with a cup and saucer
a panorama of undiluted allure
a storm of blonde hair
eyes from venus
smile like desert rain
she was, obviously, the muse
"hello darling" she said
and strolled to the pole to read my latest

don't care much about the Olympics
but it beats Russia's merciless imperialism
Israel's inept butchery
and the United Fascists of America
so party on

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

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?

my friend dan, a rare and refined writer
came to pittsburgh for a poetry forum

in hopes of making a splash
he decided to bake a chicken
and bring it to the event
unfortunately he chose a kitchen
in ohio

i never got a piece

a lifetime bouncing on the high seas of tito’s *****
you’re either dunked like a fatal donut in the acrid waves
or wind up washed up on the shores of sobriety

**** that glittery mausoleum in Cleveland
the real rock’n’roll hall of fame
is the Court Tavern in New Brunswick, NJ
and that went out of business years ago

the second coming of kamela harris
is a crackup
a few months ago
she couldn’t get arrested
by the democratic establishment
i’m all for her
but those four nights of hosannas
was quite the megaload of hooey
all generated by vast relief
but a bit much

the secret of life is simple and two-prong
one, you gotta be LUCKY
two, appreciate things when they’re good
because they won’t be good forever
don’t sweat the small stuff
the big stuff’s coming

yeah cops are just working guys doing a ***** job
and when you need one you NEED one
but man, they let themselves be molded into an army
at the drop of a top hat and overtime paycheck
the police are weapons and sometimes used accordingly
they see no problem dropping into invasion mode
against the unemployed, the underemployed
the darker population, freethinkers
and other americans who break no laws
except the law against resisting the harness
the cops accept their role as cattle **** to students
who are playing THEIR role:  cross-examining the USA
it's simple but true--
wear a suit and you're the boss
dress funky and you're a creep.
deserving of the smug baton
i observed this at the G20 summit
where i strolled along a phalanx of cops
there to protect the inviolability of property
more sacrosanct than the citizens of the country
and now i watch them kick down the wallstreet settlements
serving and protecting the dollar almighty
(thanks to my fellow beatniks for the cliche last line)
(but tell me it’s not true)
if you’re a policeman reading this
thanks for getting my keys out of the car
but WAKE UP to the way you’re intermittently implemented

the end is never pretty
but it’s not about the end
not about the beginning either
it’s the days in between
that tell the story
and by the way
you don’t want to be famous
for having an interesting finale

first a blizzard of embarrassment

i went to a party in my guitar student’s apartment
she planned to debut her new guitar-picking
which was cool, friends make a sympathetic audience
what i didn’t know and she didn’t know
was that these were not her friends
it wasn’t her party, it was her roommates’ party
and when she turned down the hip-hop and started singing peter paul & mary
the guests were WHAT THE ****?

normally i could roll with this but i’d just smoked a blizzard of ****
and was stupefied through the cornball song and hostile reaction
she wouldn’t stop leaving on a jet plane
and her stiff strumming was like a bucket of glue poured on me
who’d been introduced to the party as her brilliant guitar teacher
so much for recruiting new students at $20 a lesson

i was further stupefied by a coven of new arrivals
outside it was snowing, a blizzard, but these four girls were in halter tops
i was lost in a broad panorama, ******* all around
stunning ***-smoking showcase ****, taking huge breaths
i toked just to hang out, which painted me especially purple
after a happy half hour i realized, being a married man
it wasn’t time to make friends, it was time to go
so i exited the party and dug out my car
the snow was smooth, untrammeled
i turned on the radio, the grateful dead—
PERFECT

i ignited my sled and slid out, streets clear thanks to the blizzard
but half a block from the house i picked up a police car
following 15 feet behind me all the way across town
i was drunk, ****** & stupefied
and we were alone in the city, no distractions
the blizzard was wicked, the snow as intense as a plague
that’s how we rolled, and it felt like the cops tailed me
all the way down from the arctic circle

it’s a planet of limitless horror
governments massacring their own populace
neighboring tribes bombing each other to oblivion
school shootings inspiring other school shootings
and on top of all that
italian restaurants and wine
are overpriced and unashamed
someone had to say it

when she’s being a mindblowing mess
and moans "how do you put up with me?"
i say because i love you
we have built a world together
we live in it
and that’s how it works

most of us can get through most days
without melodrama
but can every day contain a moment
memorable and meaningful?
when it was worth the effort
of getting out of bed?
maybe this moment is that moment

this morning at work
i read the new york times
listened to huey lewis
ate a pepperoni pizza
with banana peppers
took a nap
and had a cup of coffee
why would i retire?

benjamin franklin was created by benjamin franklin
one of his most ingenious inventions
you could never read all the books about him
when you finish one, two more have been written
i party in his colossal footsteps
thanks ben, for lending me all those volumes from your library
you invented bifocals, i see clearly
your stove warms my heart
i give away my **** too -- no patents for me either
let’s jam sometime on your glass armonica
i’m packing one of your divided soup bowls on my next ocean trip
i’m sick of losing my clam chowder to the waves
these terms you added to the lexicon:
"battery," "positive," "negative," "conductor," "discharge"
i’m positive i bought a battery the other day
you designed the first penny – only now an anachronism
no matter how many of those saved pennies have been earned
all those aphorisms, my god
i bet you mumble them in your sleep
you started the philosophical society, me the secret music society
you studied whirlwinds and gulf streams when sailing to london for a cup of coffee
you designed flippers, hung onto a kite for windsurfing
used the kite to summon lightning
invite me next time you blow up a thunder house with an ungrounded lightning rod
we’ll make pittsburgh tremble
and congrats on the grounded lightning rods
you saved millions of people and neutralized religion
it’s not the deadly finger of god, the vengeance of the lord
it’s just a buzz
lighting the streets at night comes in handy
though the night watchman concept has gotten a bit fascist
brokering the french alliance was stellar for our onion soup supply
but your suggestion that we unite these states
i’m not sure that one’s gonna stick
and thomas jefferson was a cockblocker
we declare independence from his scolding us for all our mademoiselles

now everybody knows this
we experience time in a linear fashion
we’re on a track going in one direction
forward
behind us is our past
we can’t go there again
we can only look
"remembering"

but here’s the new stuff
the track is laid in an immense field
a lot of terrain
most of which we can never visit
the field is time in perpetuity
"the past" before the moments we lived
“the future" beyond the days we’ll reach
all in the field together

still though
it's an itch that can't be scratched
that time when i was young
strong, good-looking
happy and happening
is right over my shoulder
i can see it from here
but i can’t get there

how do you tell time?
clock
calendar
school
TV shows
first times--
kiss
laid
driving
drinking
first love
last love
all the pointless jobs
timeline of the children
lifespan of the cats
initial failures of the body
fatal subtraction of loved ones
the creeping ugliness of the mirror