Dreamt of mountaineering mouse

He was trying to climb the stairs using ropes and mountain climbing gear. I offered to give him a lift to the top of the stairs but he said that would be cheating.

A real dream I had in January

I was in Japan, or Central Park. I was with a young man and his friend, we were showing the friend around. the young Japanese man who was my friend was the one who lived across the street from the park. there was an Ice cream building that blocked the view of the park from his apartment building window, but from the park you could see his apartment. I thought it was a cool place to live. We went to his father's house. When we got to the house, his dad was outside talking on his cell phone. He was looking down at the ground and talking. as we approached three blue alien looking ladies walked out of the house and started to walk around them. He didn't seem to notice them. They all looked the same, except one was a little thinner then the other two. The were about 5'6" tall. They did not have hair, but tentacles that laid down on their heads like hair. They seemed middle age. We went into the house to talked to the father. He was well aware of them, his son said something like they are your desires manifested. the father said no I manifested my desires. The son laughed and said well then that makes you the devil.

Evaluating Bukowski

Hank was the ugliest man I have ever seen, acne scarred, bulbous nose, greasy hair.
Hank said the word "pussy" a lot.
Hank loved women, especially women named Linda.
Hank was a tough man.
I heard once a drunk pulled a gun on him and stuck the pistol in his belly. Hank said "Go ahead I was going to kill myself but couldn't decide how, you've just made the choice for me."
The gunman started to cry and dropped the weapon. Hank seemed disappointed.
Hank drank to much, it seems he was always drunk.
He was a poet,
a mean poet,
the best poet.
for as hard as he was, he could always cry unabashedly.
Hank also liked the ponies.
I know a lot about Charles Bukowski
but I still don't understand 40 cigarettes.

Sun Burnt Jesus

I have seen
The Sun- Burnt Jesus
The Murder she wrote Jesus
& X-Box Jesus
& the Public Radio Jesus
& the Caller ID Jesus
& the Shock Horror Jesus
& the Dora the Explorer Jesus

I am satisfied that God is everywhere

Weird

Yes,

My secret shame,

Shall I tell you?

It is something that I’ve been dying to tell you.

Once its out, I will be free.

But,

Maybe you might judge me,

Maybe you would hate me,

Maybe you would think I was weird.

No,

I trust you, I think I can share

I think I can share this now.

My secret shame is I really enjoy online…..confessions.

Lap Dance

Lap dance,
fat chance
Ricky is in the bathroom getting a spanking,
or is he just faking it again?
Don't know..
feeling kind of lonely
only it doesn't matter anymore.

Sorry I'm rambling but I can't keep thinking
that blinking
will eventually lead to sleep or death
or both.

You know I saw that cricket before I heard him,
ruining his own mystic
he doesn't seem to care, maybe I shouldn't either.

Wistful

this is a poem I wrote in the summer of 99

To chase my muse

to catch her,

to hold on with all the strength my soul can surrender.

but I am lazy,

careless,

left with only a coffee stained desk

and a bent paperclip I used to clean my fingernails.

Bottle Cap

oh snap
the stop gap
is a bottle cap
I use to hold my emotions in.


As you please
I freeze
to keep the knees
from caving in.

then after the explosion
we wrestle with the erosion
that feels more like implosion
and I smile because I gave in.

Hands in her Lap

She sits beside him in the Nissan
her favorite place to be
on an errand
on an adventure
she stares out the window
her hands in her lap.

She would be content to spend the rest of her life this way
beside him
free to talk
about
their passion, their focus, their bills

She doesn't feel her conversation must be witty or insightful
the destination is the goal
the interaction is just a byproduct
and so the pressure is off.

And it is this way, with her hands in her lap,
that she is truly happy.

You suck, I win

In 1982

I had a child,

and Argentina invaded the Falkland Islands

my daughter was born into this world and I was born into thought.

all and all not a bad year for me,

but others may have seen it differently.

In 1990 i gave birth to a son

and in November

Bush the 1st and the UN Security Councel

welcomed into the world their Gulf War.

The box is black

and I threw my back out lifting the tray

fat, flatulent, toothless jerks

stare at the black box

nod in agreement with the pretty boy

you don't know a fucking thing.

On the curb

On the curb, on the curb in front of liquor store that sells rolling papers and a vast variety of pervy mags.

A baby food jar, in it a candle. There are a number of those Santos candles too.

The flicker of lights illuminates

A flower,

And then a bunch of flowers.

Some hastily expressed sentiment is written with a sharpie on the torn apart shards

of a card board box.

Another sign says “We miss you.”

Also mylar balloons. One is shaped like a heart “I wuv you”.

All of these make shift memorials are at best sad, at their worst cheesy.

A life reduced to the type of stuffed animal one buys at the Save-On thrift store.

I hope I never die in a car accident.