Tag Archives: Heaven

TROUBADOUR TOWN

TROUBADOUR TOWN

we spent a day
and  night
in
troubadour town

you
with your passable Italian
fiuenr French

and me
with smatterings
of Esperanto and
Provencal

rode every ride at the carnival
having
   put our books down

feastimg on pizza and shwarmas
homemade beer and bread
tasty bake potatoea
and
   much meat pies

and me a card-
carrying vegan before
this date
      was less contrived

than magically
came about

and at
     the day’s dizzy pinnacle
the death
      dipper at its height

we wondered if this
were Heaven if
Heaven might
be real

then
plummeted (air
sucking the
screams
out of
our lungs

runaway trian on
crazy
    tiny
    track

full
roller-
              coaster down

can sing
of our day in troubadour town

A DAMN

A DAMN

always
in a rush to
publish

sometimes I leave typos
all over the page

sometimea my
typos
themselves
have typos

sometimes I wonder
when I write

where the Hell
is the poetry
where
is that thing
the poem

not in the world
and apparently
not
on the page

maybe
I should go look
for it

maybe we
should all go
look for it

try to figure out
what the Hell
has happened to it

go
find Dante
he
   being the
expert in
such matters

hear it
from  hia own mouth
hear it from
all those
voices

the blessed
and the damned

how
   small poetry has got
allowed
itself
to get

barred from Heaven
closed off
from Hell
lost
all its real estate
kicked
off its land

nothing big left
to talk about
nobody listening
no
imagination
inspiration

so just shovel that shit put
it
out there
have to
put it there regardless

put it out there
fast and
furious
      wrap, drench
the world in it
before it dies
entirely

no time
to worry about
this and that
the dream
of certainty
delusions
of perfection

the time
for care
and concern
has all but
vanished
is long-
time gone

no worry about typos
lack of rhyth, rhyme
missed meaning
what
does not
scan

no one
gives a fig

no one gives a damn

BACK

BACK

back you are
to tell all

you who
           found yourself’
privy to the soul’s
panorama

found yourself
presented
     with such
establishing shots

so beautiful
so terrible

tracking shot through
the gates of Heaven
gates
    of Hell
divulging the ground zero
truth of the latter

whole horrific spectacle
way beyond language

leave us wondering
what we
could have done
to possibly
  deserve this

forgetting
how the world works

how it is
what it is, no

end
to the suffering

IN SUPPLY

IN SUPPLY

I saw you wearing
the darkest, hugest
sunglasses imaginable

necessarily so, what else
might shield your blue blue eyes
from the Heavenly Sun in
full heavenly glare

light so bright
you would be forgiven
for imagining
that light
to be everywhere

and there you were
tucking not
into ambrosia
but a fat, juicy, meaty
(perhaps
the meatiest pie
imaginable)

knowing that
everything you had
ever dreamt
is
here realized

a paradise of demand
never short
of supply.

GO FIGURE!

GO FIGURE!

was in Heaven enjoying the brand name
slurping bubbling carbonated cola
through a golden straw

thinking of all
the people in my life
whose names I no longer remember
(don’t feel bad, or alone:
I no longer remember my own)

did they make the cut?
hey who the hell knows?
it’s all
immaterial

but life
lounging by the soda fountain
is not so cool — albeit eternal
when
stripped of all its chemicals
devoid of its additives

seems whoever is in
charge of censorship here

is letting me
express some alternative ideas

a bit of a blow to those
it must be
sacrificed themselves
for
Holy conformity, divine
regimentation

go

figure!