Consider: not some but all Yeti sightings
are actually hairy large men
who on a drunken dare
are streaking through the wetlands.
Chagall 2015
Archive for September, 2015
I delude myself to believe
that you actually read what I write.
Chagall 2015
And when she passed away
rather than fighting with the rest
over money and land and bangles,
I was adamant, insistent that I
would get her recipes, her Guardian Service,
that picture of her with Pop at the Copa,
the perennials from her garden.
Chagall 2015
I wish I was a ventriloquist
At least I’d have someone to talk with
Chagall & Mortimer 2015
(Carlos, okay to go back in the box now?)
Grip you
pull yo . . .
oh boy, I can see
I’ve already lost you
No?
. . . u in.
Chagall 2015
Does anybody
any longer
yet dot their j?
Chagall 2015
She asked if I thought I could fix it
I said sure, your Hotspot is off
A simple hand gesture to toggle that button
Should make all your blues go away
Olé!
Chagall 2015
I see trails, no light incites them
across weary eyes’ dull cones
the aftermath of her once, seen now gone
a fragrant sight, a dulcet taste
a sonorous breath, avalanches of undisturbed
moments froze tick steadily, the incessant sound
of no breathing, pulses of heartache
always forever on never an offbeat
splendor in the sere grass, shoes kicked off
dust kicked up, hopes kicked in dashed Kewpie’s knocked down
on ancient boardwalks calliopes beckon the lights
incite the trails that streak my vision
comet extinction, another time around
Chagall 2015
This morning it took me more than a beat
to discern what was volatile
Right is left – right?
This is so unlike me
Right upfront, back down
Go on now – rise! – be counted
There’s nothing, no fray just a fringe
Of lunatics on the mend (’round the bend)
Intimate circles inside the outskirts
Give thanks now return to your sanctum
Chagall 2015
I am a mob of one on the flash
A pulmonary conviction
The membrane of your choice
I am the Matador, Sinewy Eros
Entangling horns as they come
Nearer to thee than the moon
Dear Gaia
I am millions of deities rolled into One
A lozenge, a salve, a breath mint
As a harpsichord I traipse the body luscious
The perennial you plant
Every year hoping
Ground-breaking rip-roaring shattered
Glass
Jagged shards, Green clovers, Pink moons
Lucky charms and amulets
Around your ankles and thighs
Tigers and bears
Oh my!
Chagall 2015
Alphabet City 