On Revolutionary Pre-Texts

Put down one bloody 
Revolting word 
At a time in the body, 
And the others killing 

Time in the margins 
Of the pedestrian 
Mind will turn round 
Squarely and finish you 

Off in no time. 

Once-in-a-lifetime Gift

—for Eleni, again 


When I at last reach out 
For something desperately 

Wanting all these years, 
I want that 

Gift to be offered 
By one so well- 

Versed in the artless 
Art of giving that 

The act itself, freely 
Given, leaves nothing 

Wanting in return. 

Ongoing Adult Education Is

Observing your six-year-old 
Granddaughter learning how to 
Form her first letters, discovering 
She made a mistake and then

Watching her erasing it carefully 
Before writing it as it should be, 
Never once asking you to help her 
Write it right again. 

Derailed

Coming from the wrong side 
Of the tracks, we knew straightaway 
What felt right for us was balancing 
For as long as we could on rails 
We thought would lead us away— 
What sidetracked us was that bright 
Shiny penny that blindsided us 
From the right and led us astray. 

Prospective Basket Case #45POTUS

The worst is yet to come scenario 
Runs through the entire thread 
Of his talk and boy how we wish 
He’d hurry up and unravel before
The whole shebang blows up
Under the circumstances, leaving
Us gratefully dead in the head. 

Mushroom Recognition Scene

---for Joseph Hutchison, who first alerted me 

Heads up--just as you boisterously
Catch sight of something precious, 

In the same moment you are 
Already poised to see others 

Massing underground, jostling 
For a view of you, now nodding 

Just ahead, just above 
The silent downy mosses.

DOA Supply Command Post, 2199

Do you read me? 

commandeering 
commanding 
view 

of carrion 
after carnage over 
GMO battlefields, 

gigantic live- 
wired radio- 
active trans- 
mogrified crows 

on 
top 
of 
still 
standing 
tele- 
communications 
silo 

keep 
crowing 
on 

commanding ever so 
increasing demand for 
commodity futures, 

over.

If Confucius Were Alive Today

I bet he’d strike us all 
Dumb with something like 
Women with tongues that smart 
Say ‘Men do not need sleep 
At night because they sleep 
Standing up during the day’. 

Suddenly It Dawns On One In Transylvania

One more day.
The grey flaking

Hostel shutters flap open 

In a relentless wind, 
There’s no one

Strong enough to keep 
The dead in. 

Missive To John Levy In Tucson

Hi, brother— 

Since you asked about Rita 
In your last letter, last I heard 
Your foraging hunchback dwarf 
With the unflagging energy 
And beautiful bouquets 
Of overwhelmingly sweet 
Smelling narcissi who kept 
Coming back to your door 
On her little red bike in 1984 
After you’d already bought four 
Of them and placed one 
In each of your house’s 
Three small rooms plus 
Bringing one to my mother 
As a name day gift is now 
Where her siblings put her— 
In an old folks’ home 
In Kalamata—that’s all 
I know for sure for now,
But thinking back on how 
Fiercely she fought and persevered 
Against the ugliness of people 
Surrounding her, I also like 
To think her new surroundings 
Are chock full of plenty pretty
Flowers like the ones 
You bought from her, too. 


All the best 
From your brother in the boondocks 
Of the southern Peloponnese 

Autumnal Ritual

Centenarian plane tree 
Waving goodbye 

To golden leaves, black- 
Garbed old woman 

Meticulously sweeping 
House walkway clean. 

If The Truth Were Known

You wake up after dreaming 
You’ll be deprived of everything 
In the by and by— 

A sycophant’s somewhere 
In your subconscious 
Telling you not to worry, 

Everything’s a lie. 

Early Spring Haiku

Bashô stares at fronds 
Shaggy with hoarfrost ringing 
Frozen froggy pond. 

Phaedra And The Depiction Of Artistic Fidelity

In her young artist’s eye, the storm

Clouds are menacing

Frenetic grey and black

Jagged squiggles raining

Down long drawn-out

Swaths of green on

The heads of three purplish-

Red poppies, one of which is

Being caressed by

A long thin penciled right arm

Belonging to a young sun-

Glasses-wearing mop-

Headed red-haired girl holding

In her left hand something

Resembling a leafless tree,

Its ten green limbs radiating

Out from the center, each

Gangly arm dangling one

Black, glob-like fruit--

In other words, a fantastic

Child’s umbrella!—instead of your usual

Plain, black, grownup one, the likes

Of which most of us would more

Than likely mistakenly take it for.

Pierian Spring Redux

What to do, what to do? 

All around us, simple 
Things so profound 
As water rises, water falls— 

What to do, what to do? 
Keep to the high ground, 
Drink deep, too. 

You Talkin' To Me, Janus?

I’ll tell you this much, love—the more 
We hate others unlike us, the less 
Hate we have for ourselves. 

Out To Lunch In The Land Of The Free Besieged

a 

small 

red-

handled 

pale

blue 

picnic 

basket 

has 

been 

left 


on

top 

of 

a 

bullet- 

riddled 

freshly 

painted 

white 

wall, 


help 

your

selves. 

Never Enough Food For Thought

--for all caregivers, everywhere 


Watching Eleni feeding 
My mother-in-law who doesn’t 
Know where she is, who’s feeding her 
Or what it is she’s eating anymore, I can't help
But wonder at her painstaking patience, 

As she tenderly puts back into that mouth 
That once lulled her to sleep, nourishment 
That keeps wanting to trickle down 
Those spent octogenarian cheeks, much 
Like her mother was wont to do when 

One after another, she found herself 
With six hungry young mouths to feed, 
And where no one ever forgot that 
Never having enough food was always 
More than just a thought. 

Let's See You Trump This Catgut Tongue Twisting Conundrum Twit

Who’s the prime time news hog sowing 
So many lies his mouth needs 
Sewing up with swine twine? 

Rote Painting Poetics

1. 
Painting in words isn’t so hard— 
Just remember that 

2. 
Words are merely symbols 
For things and always 

3. 
Be sure to color them 
By number. 

Die-hard Flat-earther

I’d rather fall over 
Backwards, my senseless 
Ass lying blithely supine 

On the ground of a stable 
Earthen floor than land flat 
On my face, kissing 

The abominable 
Shifty-looking threshold 
Of a revolting, revolving door.

Revolutionary Pre-Text

Put down one bloody 
Revolting word 
At a time in the body, 
And the rest busy killing 

Time in the margins 
Of the pedestrian 
Mind will turn round 
Squarely and finish you 

Off in no time. 

Out Of The Dark Spaces Where

intricately

bunched 
together 
crammed 

with- 
in thin 
slits be- 
tween white- 
washed stones, 

cyclamen now 
poke baby pale pink 
faces through, craning 
their fragile necks 
to get a sneak 

preview of whatever 
else is blooming 
out there simply

plain in view. 

Blues In The Night (Dispossessed American Troubadour)

Oh my love was like 
A red, red shaggy coat, 
A shroud that kept me 
Warm and rosy— 
Now I’m alone, down 
And out and blue, blue 
As a body can be, 
A corpse in the cold 
White wraps of winter. 

Vocational Training: What's My Line?

Ok, let’s say we’re 
Three crows all

Cawing on 
A lone telephone line— 

Carrion spotted.
Two leave, one’s left

To continue 
Calling all maws 

Up and down
This lonely calling

Of a line, now doesn't
That sound fine? 

KO'd On Tin Pan Alley

A lyricist is boxing 
Poetic your ears with in- 
Sane strains of music 
Out of this world
As waxing delirious

Sirens wail in the corner
Poised to throw in the towel 
While you rock back and forth 
Rhythmically timing the moment 
You hit the floor. 

Hopeless Fall Guy

So many false and trivial 
Things lie strewn before your feet 

Believe me, it’s hard not 
Falling head over heels 

For them, much better you 
Take them seriously and stay 

Just where you are,
A lifetime honorary 

Upright citizen 
On Easy Street.

Rx On Growing Up Absurd In America

For the time being, 
Just hang in there— 

Soon you shall learn how 
To weep at the slightest thing 
That makes you sad, then laugh 
At how stupid that makes you feel; 

The rest will come once 
You’ve grown a second skin 
That’s always suppurating 
But never heals. 

The Body Poetic Continued: A Poem Should Be (14)

1. 

Persevering 
As all get out— 
And badass through
And through,
Like that sleek black 
Crow on the back of that 
Nonchalant white 
Ewe, plucking away 
At her sullied, 
Ragged fleece. 

2. 

In lieu of maggots, dear 
Reader, a tireless natural 
Born killer of life- 
Threatening blood- 
Sucking fleas and ticks 
Infesting the body 
Poetic, too. 

From Life In These United States: Tomorrow's Hollow

Hopes and prayers 
Promise to be 

So momentous I think 
Another moment 

Of judicious mind- 
Numbing 

Silence is not altogether un-
Called for today.