Archive for May, 1997

Re-opened for Business

Posted: May 27, 1997 in Poetry
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Re-opened for business
Because I need someone to talk to;
An understanding: me and pen and paper.
These are my lists of things to do;
Poems, non-linear and creative.
The multiples of me
Will from here on be referred to as “we”.
We are, and we care what happens
To us, the firm, the fundament.
Something let loose
A dropped leash, slipped the collar,
And now we weigh:
Freedom versus security.
ADD is like myopia –
It is naturally difficult to see
What we think
Is best
For
Me.

Soshial Obligashuns

Posted: May 18, 1997 in Poetry
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Damned to be a husband I rebel
As all others before me, more or less:
Within the strict limits
Of my integrity and commitment.
Get the fuck out of my poetry journal!
Consistency and constantly aware
Of this yoke of woman,
A noose of responsibility to sosh thrills
And pinky-finger parties.
Obligations that are a mockery of forced smiles
And strains to remember politics.
A boring waltz of bullshit hellos;
Small talk about whoever didn’t make it
To defend themselves on this court date.
Righteousness through convicted assumption;
Convict through assumed righteousness,
And an open window,
A polygraph of eyes
And a sharp katana.

Sleeping in Here

Posted: May 18, 1997 in Poetry
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Yes I am sleeping in here tonight.
And it is true I am writing again.
Attempts to communicate, compromise,
Tolerate, have failed like good ideas:
Practically useless and foppish.
I am simply complex, and my head hurts
From psychotherapy and coping.
We are both selfish and immature,
Egotistical bastards, spineless jelly
In the face of adversity.
An oboe, a flat reed
And symphony for a blade of grass.
Duh.

Nesting

Posted: May 18, 1997 in Poetry
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One time I found
That I loved the warmth
Excavated by nesting:
Burrowing so far
Into a pile of pillows,
A weight of blankets,
The I left the world behind.

These were the laps
Of my imaginary mothers;
They were the arms
Of my dream-lovers.
Safe and tight
Inside a womb of covers,
Tented fabric and
Down-stuffed sandbags
Kept me secluded
From the shellshock of
Existing.