drew a poem

and I drew

a poem,

its arms extended

like a child

sees a gull

and wants to fly

who says he does not

fly?

his little imagination

as big as the ocean

of space and the stars

that drown in it

 

Go Juice

Love anger passion abandon

Go juice for poets

Vindictiveness? Never seem to need it

Jealousy? No one wants to read it

But, despair? Even the immovable Buddha statues

Perk their ears 

car repair day

 birds in flock

over tree-lined street

auto-repair attendant

with endearing speech impediment

European man on bus

for 3 block ride

5 times repeats

he is going to the gas station

for "cigaretto"

breakfast at recurring deli

good eats, good reads

launch into his latest collection

sausage omelet with hash browns

all you can't leave behind

I don't want a thing

too bad I am stuck

with so much

giving stuff away

would be

just one more thing

to get rid of

blowing in the wind

 fuzzy wheat grasses

sway in the wind

hard rain's gonna fall

some bent to the ground

some stand tall

two days before an election

most important of our lifetime

besides the ones that follow

the times they are a-changing

all things mortal degrade

what ascends, falls

you either bend with it

or stand tall

this story is not about Paul McCartney

 no one does the Beatles

better than Paul McCartney

and his band of ringers

young'n's, sons of studio engines

and no one does Sir Paul

like we did

in Rodd's brother's car

the four of us listening to WMMS

Let It Be, rattling the hood

so drunk, so very high

my discovery -- when you try

just to imitate the singer

feel his words shape your mouth

roll out across your teeth

breathe out

with his breath

he has possessed you

and, though you know 

you probably sound terrible

you realize exactly 

what David Byrne meant

by his appropriated concept

"speaking in tongues"

dream journal #271

 extra rotund actor

fiend from 70's cinema

Victor Buono appears,

expertly killing off

my loved ones, one by one

my friend appears at my door

with a baby girl in his arms

I am terrified they may be killed, too

but we escape

and he tells me,

the girl is my daughter

and Victor shoots my friend

and we are on the lam

this little girl in my arms

but I know, 

in my dreamtime way of knowing

at least she 

will make it out of this

alive