Hot Coffee and Memphis Minnie

I can't compete with the dirty pearls

and the prom dresses from 1938

I can't compete, I can't compete

My mind is supple like that coffee ripple

on the way to my tongue

between my teeth

it's not as long of a road

as it used to be

Oh Lawd me

Cat Gut Strings

Southie laid a log in the living room

the smell filled my nostrils upon entering

like a dissonant note in an otherwise delightful tune

I went to the window to see how to go about ventilating

It's nothing too elegant

just a poem about the cat pan

I've got enough to worry about

like who will be my man

So I will sit with my stomach full

of guts and ideas and instincts

If I Was a Kite

In the quiet before the storm

I've been deranged buttons undone

dresser up against the wall

coins spilled from pockets

hurled into the night wind

walking home

In blasted noise I've sat in reverence

quiet and unassuming I am sure

to the naked eye

while I am cloaked in amazement

watching the musicians

move mountains and calm rivers

all with their hands

sitting in the harsh wooden chairs

like a tin soldier

watching jazz

at the club

In somewhat pained memories I've sat

running to the sounds of Sinnerman

butt soaking wet

from the grass

where I played guitar 

and small puppies

came to smell my feet

In caffeinated mornings I've begun

stomach grumbling

and lips sore from dreaming

speaking in tongues

of all the things

I cannot say

when I am awake

In an unguarded and unjaded trajectory

I have hurled myself even higher

catching the wind

one last time

Dragons

The memories we share

laid bare on the square

the canvas is primed

and ready for paint

The memories we ride

carefully steered

last night I thought of the line,

"with weary eyes I stare at the dragon."

The World in a Cup of Tea

There is a whole world in a cup of tea

an ecosystem of every reaction which presides over the earth

is there.

In a cup of tea.

The soap helps clean the pot.

The water goes into the pot and boils.

The dried leaves become alive again,

evaporating into the water,

the particles of the plant breathing and escaping into the hot water

the same way smoke would escape 

into the air.

Louder

Take 2

A lusty racket filled the air as the chest of the yellow bird arched up.

Her feathers ruffled and she nearly began to sing.

Then the woman at the counter looked down

and another day began.

There is danger in making up for lost time.

It's an odd feeling I have this morning.

I am not willing to make the same mistakes.

I step over to the cage and open up its small door.

The bird doesn't leave at first, until suddenly it does.

The yellow wings are now somewhere out over New Mexico

and the tiny bird is flying faster than a train.

The sunlit fields shine and the gleam of her feathers is hard to see

flipping back and forth so quickly that her flying is loud, not silent.

----------

Take 1

A lusty racket filled the air in the bird cage

Her chest lifted up as if to sing

the canary came out of her mouth

and flew

as if it were an ordinary day.

There is danger in making up for lost time

and there is an odd feeling I have this morning,

I am not willing to make the same mistakes

I am willing to move forward in new ways.

The yellow wings are now somewhere out over New Mexico

flying faster than a train

louder somehow, too.

Hammer Tongue

The speech coming off my tongue is clouded

by the trucks passing by

their loud horns and diesel gas

distract me from the kindness

but give me a harder palm

a callous and a hammer

May I wield the wooden handle wisely

as people are like nails

and you never know how hard your words are

as you slam them into the wood.

Map of My Emotions

There is a map of my emotions

right above the city

of the South

where the river meets

its Delta mouth

is a town

so small

almost unseen

where there lies my silent streets

at night with the smell of flowers

and Northeast of there

is the land of the damned

though its not marked 

it's easy to miss

Way up high

in the North

there's the mountains of my mind

and the forests

among the stones 

How to Hold a Grudge

Take it in your hand and hold it there

a small rock, a piece of clay

squeeze it for as long as you want

mold it into any shape

Put it in your pocket when you have something else to do

but it will always be there

ready to take out and look at any time you want

you can draw a picture of it

but don't hold it in front of a mirror

Put it on your bed stand at night and let it sit

so you can dream of a world gone wrong

wake in the morning and stare at it

while the birds sing their songs

and think of happy days

before the grudge took it away

Now go to the river's bridge

and bring it in your coat

let it rain

during a rain is even better

a sprinkling rain where your hair gets wet

and your face gets cold

stand at the middle of the bridge and look out over the water

reach into your pocket

feel the stone.

With eyes closed, reach in and grab it.

Bring back your arm like an archer's bow

and hurl it hurl it hurl it

into the deep

as the waves keep crashing

and the water flows on

your pockets will be empty

and you can walk on.

I am Vacuum, Hear Me Roar

I am Vacuum, Hear Me Roar

the pith of my suck as I clean your rug

I am Vacuum, Hear Me Roar

You want everything to be perfect

I will make it so

running my fingers down your back

as my wheels turn 

as I moan

You want me independent 

bent and straight

Pistons rushing the engine of fate

Swords drawn and karate kicks

stoic intellectualism

storms of power

it's what I am designed to do:

suck.

The bureaucratic mess of electricity

won't stop me

from taking my cord to the wall

turning my button to on

and challenging the dirt of the world

I can only clean when the world is flat

Magellan and his round earth

confuse me

Karma and the wheel of fortune don't gel

with my racetrack mentality

I am a greyhound 

and the gate is lifted 

and I am trained to run

As I round the bend and my legs break

and my ideals crash from

pedestals

the sound of pots and pans

drum kits falling from a ten story building

a piano slamming into the cement floor.

I am Vacuum, Hear Me Roar

Red Wheels

The space between the lies the dust behind the door

the shopping cart with the crooked wheel

the sky puking up the sun

Coffee and Conversation

Do you read?

Yeah of course

What kind of books?

What do you mean?

What kind of books?

None really.

I thought you said you read.

Yeah I can read.

So like what do you read?

The menu for the morning coffee, the special is on the wall. Sometimes there's a funny quote when you walk in like "all is not lost, but get found anyways," something like that.

You read what's written.

Yeah, like what I can see, I can read, did you think I was illiterate?

No we can all the read the writing on the wall...I meant do you read for enjoyment?

Like for pleasure, the pleasure of reading?

Yes, the pleasure of reading.

Well, I do enjoy finding out that coffee is $2.83.

Books.

Books?

Yes do you read books?

Well, it's clear I read the menu, and the writing on the wall, why would I need to open up a stack of paper, and pour through someone's ideas. 

Well, it might give you ideas. It might be fun. I find it fun.

You do?

Yes.

You like to read other people's ideas? What about your own?

Well, their ideas give me ideas.

Ha, that's like coffee filling its own cup.

For $2.83 I'd buy an infinite cup of coffee.

Hey Jack

Yeah Moe

Have you read Ulysses?

No, that's a huge book.

Well...

I thought you didn't read books.

No but I know of them. I've heard about them. I only read them by listening to what people say about them. If I hear about a book, having never read it, then I know it's a good book.

Well, how do you know it's good?

Good? Well, the words travel, beyond the page. Like space explorers. Words, letters in tiny space ships, blasting off the page. 

Right, because someone read it in the first place.

Yes, of course, someone did.

So someone has to be reading.

Now, I'm not knocking reading, I am just saying I have my own way of separating the good books and the great books.

Yes, ok, I see.

You don't believe me?

Well--I just don't think that's what makes a book great. A great book has an effect on the reader, it's full of great ideas, and can make you think of new ideas, ones you never thought before?

Ah, it's just regurgitation.

Regurgitation? No, it's intellect.

Intellect, regurgitation. Like a bird feeding its young. It basically is just puking you know.

Oh, come on I'm eating. These are good egg sandwiches by the way.

Yes they are. Did you see the barista in the brown hair? 

Yes.

She writes the signs, the chalkboard signs. She does a good job.

Yes, yes. 

I am saying she does a good job because she's deciding what to write, it's facts, it's prices. Like the cup of coffee costs this much, or that much. They set the price, and it's the price.

Yes.

So that's not intellect, that's facts! I like facts.

So do I.

No you don't you like ideas, because you read books. And you don't know if it's any good, you just get all the ideas, and you think more ideas, and then you talk my ear off all day.

Well, you seem to have a lot to say.

That's because I am trying to get to the bottom of it.

Who

Running through the center of the sun is hot

my feet feel like asphalt and the tips of cigars

My heart has burnt a long time ago

a candle wick dipped in wax

who is your love for, you may ask?

Surely the armor blackened by blacksmiths

and the swords molten and then sharpened know

Surely the white dress of Ophelia has gotten

dirty in the snow

Hawks and hippos both subdue

one to the sky the other to the pond

from high to low my chakras bend

not knowing like a blind man

bending down

over the table

about to eat.

Sawdust

 I feel like Pinocchio laying in a pile of my own sawdust

Juliet conceived in the blood of Romeo