Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Monday, July 30, 2007
What You Might Say
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
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
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
Sunday, July 22, 2007
When Your Son Wears A Red Hat
Thursday, July 19, 2007
One Should Appreciate the Poetry in the Poem
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 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 email@example.com)
Monday, July 16, 2007
Sunday, July 15, 2007
The Night Is Hugging the House Now
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
Thursday, July 05, 2007
The Ways in Which You Want to Get Away
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
Sunday, July 01, 2007
Summer Things that Happen
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.