
GRANNY PRINT


VEHICLE
saw soldiers
dancing
beside their tanks
on top of
tanks
came
as a surprise to me
(won’t say
“shock”)
never before
made that
connection
ever saw tanks
as vehicles of love
RELEASE
here I am
at Woodstock 69
my head exploding in the moment
did not think things
could change out
of all proportion
Carlos Santana standing there
wrestling with the demons
in his guitar
ripping out my heart
serving it back to me shredded,
dripping with
Lysergic acid
did not figure he could
mellow so
smooth
and the end of Vietnam
lead to everything headed
in the wrong
direction
and here we are now
having lomg said our
goodbyes to
a raw music of ecstasy
of transformative connection
music now
filtered and distilled
served
in a box
box we would ask you politely
not to think outside of
ever dream
that soul, spirit, body
whatsoever
altogether
we can agree to release
QUIETLY (SAID THE PHILOSOPHER)
quietly, said the
philosopher,
thus
the philosopher spake
argued quietly
should be
my default mode
here
on the edge
of an abyss
never jump to, rush to,
solution, conclusion
only after
careful inference,
deduction
make
lightning leap
remember
that a single feather
a flock doth not
of
necessity make
still less
an angel
though the brush of a wing
where none
should logically be
the feel of
a beyond
you cannot put your
finger on
may be
different thing
entirely
every
ounce of your being
shred
and philosophical fibre
crying out for
deeper engagement
doing so
quietly
VERTIGO
I hate vertigo
fear it
entirely
wonder what
life should be
like
could it
be at all tolerable
if it
did not go
of own accord
consent to
leave me
and so I am
sensitive to
the world’s vertigo
the one
that mad philosopher
wrote of
the one where all
that was balanced
is lost
the tipping point
of fundamental energies
refusing reconcilement
in the words of the crazy one,
forever our fate,
determined to return.
TO BE SURE
rejoice;
beware!
something
out there
a new
continent
as yet
undiscovered?
unnamed
asteroid;
new
planet?
something which
we found
found us
bound to change
everything
bringing, to be sure,
greatness and goodness
for
all mankind!
rejoice!
beware
something out there
already, to be sure
new planet
new continent
near
as it is far
THE POEM ITSELF
every poem
is a death knell,
death sentence
at one
and the same time, in
the same
breath
a wake up call and
astounding catalyst
so much ambivalence,
duality, simultaneity
helpless but to learn
how to coalesce
left lying around, unheard,
unfigured upon
waiting to be noticed
notice itself






