In this story I'm going to write
protag finds Joey Lieberman
wandering in a swamp
with his conscience a-waver
and brings him back to the fold
from whence he has strayed
of the insurance industry lobby
who have posted a reward
for his safe return, and protag
takes the wages of complicity
and quits his job at the store
and goes out on the road after
happiness, but the money's gone
before he catches sight of it
and the derelict drunks
who are always standing by
to offer advice
begin to close in

A religious belief
in travel and in small
symbolic gestures
as the means of
erasure
or of effecting change.

About seven minutes
into the woods
behind the Jack Cohen-Koenig Theatre
spanning the gap between the hillside and platform
built twenty feet from the ground
between the trunks of two trees
is a twelve foot plank
which may have been put there
the platform as well
by hunters
but when I went there
I would read a book
and lie all day
watching the sun slide around in the sky
and I wish to god that I were on my way there now
instead of headed to work at the glasses store

I guess that J.K. also stood for just kidding.

A couple of the lesser stars have gone out
in the sky. A number of things down here
have lost their luster. Someday someone's
going to catch you in a lie.
It's going to cost you your bluster.

On Saturday the exterminator's coming
by to spray our basement with his grim
carcinogens. But there are greater evils
than that in the world.
I don't expect that you will ever call me again.

Use your fucking turn signal!

I'm trying to cross the street!
Also, stop fucking honking.

Look Back in Acker

First, be spontaneous. Never say no.

you can scan anything in 2010

there is a thing called a 3d printer
which prints anything you want
by pooping out hot lil plastic pellets

it's 2010 which means meter is still important but not fucken necessary get me

Jingle for Fanny's (why didn't they use it?)

Winter's cold and bleak, but then it passes.
The thaw will come. It's time to get new glasses!
The birds and beasts will all be after sex.
And you will, too--also, new pairs of specs!
The bull shows renewed interest in the cow.
You'd better shop and find some new frames now!

Go Get a Job!

No qualifications!
No experience!
No self-respect!
No motivation!
(But:
privilege--
privilege--
privilege-----)

After the shoes this morning,
I made it through the day
without seeing anything that upset me.

I've been lighting candles
and making strange
wishes. Bad wishes.
Wishes I'm not proud of.
I've wished for things to
happen that would hurt
people I love. I'm not well.
I'm starting to toy
with things I don't understand.

Lyrics to "Torch Song"

It's not like I'm carrying a torch for anyone
but I've got this pile of kindling sticks and once in a while I'll light some.
How easy it would be to just get on a plane.
Oh! Whe-e-e-e-ere to go? Discomfiture as usual.

It's still with me!
It's still with me!
It's still with me!
When will it not be?

Last night I spoke to you face to face across the country
and everything I said made me want to give myself surgery.
You said, "You'd better think about the paths that you are choosing.
Oh, Samuel, it's not a race, but if it were, you'd be losing."

"Torch Song" can be heard here: www.myspace.com/weirdchess

-

This is my 31st poem, and if the month is up and this is the end, I just want to say that it's been such a pleasure and a treat to stumble into the new year with everyone and everyone's poems. It kind of made my month and helped me find my way through it. Thanks and love to everybody, and thanks especially Tullah! But if we're allowed to keep writing...
<3> Sprout Legumebean

In the midst my first mental break I was seized by
the notion that by getting warm socks I might...

No. It's still there. It's not like I'm carrying
a torch for anyone, but I have this handful
of dry straws, and once in a while I will
light one and let it burn down. And

over and over! All the time! My fingers singed!

still

it's still with me
it's still with me
it's still with me
when won't it be?

Howard Zinn R.I.P. 1922-2010

In some ways says more about the state of the union
than any speech. Not that there aren't other
thinkers, or that Zinn's own speeches didn't
tend toward feel-good fluff. But, damn. A light out.

All I can think about is Sibelius' Symphony no. 2.
I remember the first time I heard it. Ithaca, NY, 2003.
Life was confronting me with the real possibility
of getting stuck on a conservatory education track.
I would have killed myself.

When it premiered, a reviewer called the Sibelius
"the worst composer in the world." Myself
I can't help finding the warmest, brightest light
of the universe in there, along with all kinds
of poignancy. I'm worried that I sound trite,
talking about poignancy. I couldn't even tell
you what home would look like.
It would have to get some sun. Fairly sure.

Dream about being loose on stage.
Drunk like Jerry Lee? Maybe without
the shiny plastic pants. Still,
slippery and in control.

-neue

The incense hisses and spits.
Rebirth requires vegetables.
I have arugula in the fridge.
While I'm away and
while I'm asleep
the house rearranges.
I found your hair in my room.
Wonder costs. Is this stuff
working? I can't relax unless
I know where everyone is.

Excess of Answers

Always, everyone is left with something.
I have the glasses of a suicide. No
feeling funny, hear? No questions.
What was. There's not a meaning--
no one dies why. Life is what matters,
and that's subjective and dynamic.

Bah. Hambug. We talk and talk
and eat. Same curtains, new room.
The food is confusing. The restaurant
is confused. It wants to be two
other restaurants. Leather on the tables.
Plants in the bathrooms.

Life is like a garden. You find a packet of
seeds. Unmarked. You plant them.
They pullulate and turn out to be
something that could get you in
a lot of trouble. Get as tough as you can.
There's no way to plan. And

hindsight is always always 20/20, especially
when you work in an optical store.
Slivers of metal in all of my fingers.
Damn right they hurt and damn! the projects
end awry. Could be that I could find a better
show of self to admire. Oh herbs and organization.

Plee

When we rely on machines
we rely on other people.
We rely on other people
when we cannot rely on ourselves.
Commodification of religion.
Commodification of death--jeez!
Someone take me camping.

Martbay,
Meine Kerze ist angezündet. Mein Haar
riecht nach dem Weihrauch, der ich
für Wiedergeburt brennen.
Mit einfachen Sätzen spanne ich
die Kluft.