Off an alley in North Beach, I spent my boyhood aspirations.
Smoking weed in Kerouac Alley and drinking from pitchers of beer in Specs
spewing words onto a page.
Some of the words came true, others melted like candle wax over a bridal bouquet.
I got divorced from that son of a bitch
who kept me up all night
Tied to a bed in handcuffs.
I wrote it all down, the screams, noise, words. How do you write noise?
Like this.
AARGHHHGGGRGGHH!!!
And that’s that.
— Mark Schwartz and Joie Cook
By recluse in the affinity of the time
I come to reckon my finances
and all that is due to me
The kingdom come, thy will be done
As it is in heaven and earth
Be sure to forgive those who trespass you
But keep the debts
Remember the earth (maye, gaye)
and its replenishment
Come flowers, come children
Long live life.
Most Beautiful of Women
I’m looking for the Woman,
At a time when ladies were supposed to be
ladies, Adler had “the face of the most beautiful of
women, and the mind of the most resolute of men,”
according to Wilhelm. She outwitted Holmes, and he
admired her for it.
…like Irene Adler,
Who chased down a scandal
in Bohemia
Before it could
Behead her
And her husband to be.
She has a love of chocolates
Which I love as well
As any maid
And a love of life
More so than Van Gogh
And the Paul he left behind
Or the secret marriage
He embraced.
She talks about a new bed,
But it’s unmade.
You brought her to tears
With a picture
Being worthy
Of more than 62 words.
You’ll feel sad
If you have to leave
Earlier than expected
And so, you lingered on
Telling her how much
Her expressions of love
Meant, “…more than humane
Language can perceptively describe.
Reading Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged
Could not keep the flame
Of your imagination
The way she could
With a glance
In any direction home.
As I try with therapeutic aide
To straighten my augmented hand
Derailed from my wrist
By the oncoming train,
I still can’t remember
Being swooshed aside
In its wind tunnel path
Only waking up in Highland’s
Intensive care unit
with phantom pain
For a leg gone missing
Below the knee cap.
And now, I’ll stop short
The way the train
Should have.
Hold Me Blind
The light held me
In its aura
While the venetian blinds
Prevent light from
The parking lot
From entering
The disparate room
That’s alright
I’m in a hospital
Just waking up
How did I arrive?
Luke’s dog is next to my bed
But what’s he doing here?
In the hospital
Like a waiting room
For those of us caught
Between worlds
Luke’s warm breath
Blows lightly across
My cheek
My waiting room
Gives friend’s dog
A chance to
Take a breather
From the sometimes
Wicked world
Gets you nowhere
Getting nowhere
Waiting for the boy
From Godot
Becket’s here too
Smoking a cigarette
And enjoying
An espresso
Everything’s related
To the accident
I remember
Walking across Gilman Street
Going to my storage space
To try and find
Joie’s painting
A picture is worth
Sixty-Two Words
And then
I awoke slowly
Out of a daze
Having left the fog and shadows
Of billowing shapes
In this twilight dimension
I inhabited for
It must have been
Hours
Seemed like seconds.
What happened to visits?
Reviewing and reliving
Moments with friends
What’s a review
From a room with no view?
At least it’s not
Like Redding Jail
When Oscar was
In the wilds
Of his imagination.
My computer is out
All I have is my
Will and wit
To save a tree
Sounds divinely inspired
No more penciling in
Empty spaces of
A crossword puzzle
The overflow of humanity
In this wafting region
Of life passing itself
Is overflow
Of consciousness
Murder me
If my beads of sweat
Could only join together
In a tapestry
Of Bach variations.
THE LIBERTY OF ARTISTS
Trapped in their rooms
Looking for the first air
Of liberty
Another city
On the planet
Third city match
Is a jest of thumping
When the rent
Is past due.
The freedom of getting arrested
Plus a free drink
At the taxpayer’s security
And, for a good cause.
Who’s on first?
Who’s on third?
Second place team
Surpassed first
Out to face
Our oppositions
And live by
Our suppositions
And face each other
Where we sing along
With our songs
From the hit parade.
Music is our word
The sound of May
More lunch over
Our world’s transformed
By the power of mommy
And mommy is daddy
Take my hand
Take my littlest finger
On the border
Between San Diego and Tijuana
On the border
Of love
Go
Give a rub
For the look of love
In your eyes
A lock of your hair
Reveals truth
As much as I surmise.
AGILE BONES
I was told that
In physical therapy
There was a person
Same condition I’m in
Except with both legs.
Very agile,
He exercised every day.
He was always talking
Vehemently and impassionately
On the phone
100 feet away
From my room.
With my memory gone
On the bulk
Of her conversation
Even while it was
Engrossing me,
I remember he said,
“I’m going to buy him
a Guinness.”
I yelled out,
“I’m going to pass
on the Guinness.”
He said,
“I don’t ever want
to hear the name
Mark Schwartz again.”
Gulp.
What plot and why?
Kidnapping is an exchange
For Guantanamo
Prisoners,
Whose agile bones
Are yet repressed.
There’s the fear of the crowds
for the crowds may take over
the police
and free all the prisoners.
Society’s most pressing solution for people is having compassion
and respect for those in need. Whether it is a homeless
person needing a home, food, social services and jobs
or an individual being allowed his/her civil liberty to
be able to sit or lie on the ground.
The solution I see is cutting the
military budget (i.e. nuclear weapons research –
8 1/2 billion) and everything else so that everyone has adequate
or more than adequate health care, education
and all other basic needs.
What this requires is massive lobbying (e.g. visits
to members of Congress, letter writing, social media)
and if necessary, protests on the streets including
civil disobedience.