Tuesday, July 31, 2007

Cool Things That Have Happened to Me

This is a postcard from Paul Violi. It is of William Hogarth's painting "A Rake's Progress (The Arrest)." The back of the postcard describes the painting: "Having wasted his inheritance, Tom is arrested for debt on his way to St. James's Palace to celebrate the Queen's birthday. Sarah offers her purse, hoping to procure his release." He wrote: "...you've done for Hitler's mustache what Christopher Smart did for his cat Geoffrey..."

Monday, July 30, 2007

What You Might Say

There comes a time when you can't move through
the universe
so you count on your friends and family
to make something happen that matters.
And even if it doesn't happen
the dreams you have about life
persist, like the urge for sexual interaction in
aging mammals.
There is always something, like a windshield,
that makes us want to pass aerodynamically
through the air.
And yet the air is a barely there.
So, anyway, you get super drunk and try
to move past the obvious.

Thursday, July 26, 2007

The World I'm Talking About

Having something in your mind, presently, is very important.

Even if your mind is half-way in Charlie Rose.

That's horrible. I mean everything.

Aside from the mean streak in my spine, I feel like my spine is okay.

Sure, it's all pretty stupid, but I've got other ideas.

Well, the way it all collapses on itself is obvious

but what is less visible

is the obvious. Sorry for the extra tidbits.

In my heart, I'm sorry for lots of things.

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

I Am Willing If You Are Willing

The past couple of days Ron Silliman has been mentioning Poet's Bookshelf and so this blog has been getting more visitors. That's great. Thanks Ron. Thanks visitors. Here's some of the deal. Yes, there is a new Poet's Bookshelf in the works. This time I have a co-editor, Tom Koontz, who was recently photographed with my 9 month old daughter, Stella, in my backyard (she is eating a small towel).
Like volume 1, volume 2 of Poet's Bookshelf has many cool poets in it. I will not list them all here, but some of them are: Jack Anderson, Mary Jo Bang, Ellen Bass, Robert Bly, Nick Carbo, Maxine Chernoff, Tom Clark, Martha Collins, Shanna Compton, Catherine Daly, Edward Field, Sandra Gilbert, Noah Eli Gordon, H. L. Hix, Anselm Hollo, Kent Johnson, Ilya Kaminsky, Jennifer Knox, Ben Lerner, Eileen Myles, Alicia Ostriker, Linda Pastan, Marge Piercy, Katha Pollitt, Jerome Sala, Reginald Shepherd, Tony Tost, Diane Wakoski....and many more. (Please forgive any name misspellings.) You should buy volume 1 and you should buy volume 2.

Sunday, July 22, 2007

When Your Son Wears A Red Hat

his best friend wears a blue shirt. They are standing in front of the hill that they roll hula hoops down. It's at school. It's good.

Thursday, July 19, 2007

One Should Appreciate the Poetry in the Poem

So you decide to watch TV and you watch Posh Spice.
That's good really.
Nothing to complain about.
So the world isn't terrific. It's terrific.

Even while animated children jump around in the advertisement, the splashes they
make don't last.
Even in poetry. Or especially.
Oh god, I'm sorry to have said that.

When I finally find the words to say what I'm saying, I'll stop.
I don't mean at the end of this poem.
When the wheel stops it will stop. I want to say "baby."

Wednesday, July 18, 2007

Now It's Late and I'm Waiting

In the world there is instability and loose nuclear weapons.

In Muncie, Indiana at the Deleware County fairgrounds, people race stock cars.

My parents are in town and that's basically lovely.

I have a fear lizard that is imitating my tongue in the region that it attaches to the back of my mouth.

There seems like there is a more efficient way of saying all of this, but I can't think of what it is.

There was a bomb scare in the parking lot.

But everyone is okay, baby.

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

I'm Happy to Say This

Would you like a copy of the new Short Hand CD, Toward Orange? Send me your address and I'll send you one. Free. Anytime. Anybody, anywhere. I'm just happy you're reading this. (write me at artisnecessary@yahoo.com)

Monday, July 16, 2007

What Happens When People Read Hitler's Mustache?

Stuff. You'd be surprised.

Sunday, July 15, 2007

The Night Is Hugging the House Now

We've painted the front of our house. It was white and we've painted it white.
The trim was black, so we painted the trim black.
The second story was way up there. Not so much below the second story windows, but above the second story windows. I was scared.
It looks terrific now. I have been paralyzed from a fall off a ladder thus far in my life and today was like not being paralyzed and repeatedly climbing, hugging, and readjusting a ladder.

Wednesday, July 11, 2007

I'm Talking about July 8th

If it is your 35th birthday, perhaps your wife buys candles in the shape of a 3 and a 5 and perhaps she inserts them in a pan of freshly baked brownies, creating the number 35. Perhaps you light those candles on fire and then blow that fire out, in this case, with the help of your son. Not bad, you think about the universe. Your daughter's like, Yeah, I get it. The deal with the fire and then the no fire.

Saturday, July 07, 2007

This is new, and good.

Thursday, July 05, 2007

The Ways in Which You Want to Get Away

I don't know what you might say that would be better than this.

My point is that you can't be a new book of matches forever.

Eventually, your tips will speckle with blue.

Eventually, you will look old, like a deer head hanging on a wall.

Even if you can still start a fire, the phone number written on your cover
will give you away, big time.

You'll see the past hugging the back of your legs, and you'll want to shake free,
as if in a funky dance, or like there is a large insect in your shirt.

Monday, July 02, 2007

Today's Invention

Sunday, July 01, 2007

Summer Things that Happen

I say to myself: It's summer, I have kids, I have a good wife.
I say: I know good things in life are happening.

I pulled up these half-tree/half-bush things from the yard today.
They were growing beside the garage.
My wife said to my son, Daddy is so strong.
My son said, Daddy you're so strong.
My daughter was swinging in a swing.

I also say things like, What the fuck is this?
I also say: You're kidding me, I mean--

When I think of writing something on the blog, I say to myself:
You must consider the fact that you're going to publish a poem tonight.
I'm making a joke to myself when I say this.

Ha, ha, ha, I'm thinking. It's funny.