Invasion Road

Take me down to invasion road
I feel like an army's at my back
and I'm leading the charge,
so away we go. I'm sure
there'll be something ahead
to attack. If not, hell
I'm not quite sure whether I
am leading this charge, or
just steps ahead of pursuing hordes
- or of nothing at all? This war
isn't going to win
any awards.

burger poem

Come on down to burger poem
in any location near you, to serve
we don't exist, so drive right through
enjoy the significance and emotional
associations of a tasty burger,
with none of the slaughterhouse
innocent animal guilt, none of the
huge belly uncomfortable fullness
you get from downing burger
after burger
after burger
after burger, from
a big sack of burgers
courtesy of our royalty
or circus-based competitors. Unfortunately,
no fries either. No Coke, it's
bring your own Coke
at burger poem. All we do
is burgers, and
technically, we don't literally
do
them

daydream journal

Start a dream life journal
every day, first thing
write down what you did
all that day's dream. Write it
in the past tense. A fait
accomplit, and then fix
yourself,
toast and jam,
and tea.

immediate stranger

The immediate stranger
has just arrived. The one
you feel people have talked
about
in general, in
the abstract, how
good the candy is, how
much you should not talk
so you just beam and listen
- the stranger, they say
has a van. But this one
it turns out, doesn't.
Perhaps it's a case
of identity, some mistakes
once made, are easy enough
to straighten out

those problems

It's weird. I feel like each day
is totally different and each person
is nothing like the others. I keep
learning new lessons that can never
again apply, and finally once I think
I've got something well and truly discovered,
the walls fall off and I'm left with a creeping
manifesto of some guy's balls. Then the dragons
come out. I retreat to solitude for a quick bite
of time and discover the carton's gone empty
...and sour. The only thing I can console myself
with is that I'm pretty fine with it actually.
Wonder what tomorrow will bring?

picking your nose

picking your nose
picking your nose
everyone's always
picking your nose
because yours is the cutest,
snootiest beak
and all the other noses
seem meek, or weak
or just
insincere, somehow
So people pick yours
four out of five times
you don't even know
as their eyes alight
and light up walking by,
yep, those people are thinking:
"THAT NOSE. Yes, this
is the nose I choose
and the nose I love,
and would wish
to kiss" but
as you walk on,
brisk as the breeze
their hearts pull
and break,
with aching
ease, suddenly
sure
that this
is the nose
they will miss.
They silently bless
your distant sneeze
and vow they will not
forsake your nose.
They remain ever true,
your secret nose team.
Ever hoping to spot
your nose again, so
keep your nose clean.

the domestication

I saw a movie about
the domestication of the dog, way back
in precivilization days, and I was like
oh man
the dog

what a good boy
what a good good boy
Who's a good boy? Who

was a good boy before
the dog was a good boy
to show us how good a boy
dogs can be? Putting good boys
to shame by comparison because look
man, I don't care how good a boy you are

look at the dog

Look at the domestication of the dog
and tell me that's not a good boy

I know I know, bitches
be good dogs too and all but
in the movie

it was a good boy

typical

ok technically I only saw the trailer
but you could pretty much tell

that's a good boy

deliberate findings

I know there are songs
that are so good
so great
that would change my life
that I haven't heard, and
I can't be bothered, somehow
I can't
I can't be bothered
to seek them out. I know
there are songs so good
so great, that would change
my life, that I have
to write, but

maybe I should
do it anyway.
Sometimes you can't care
until you're under weigh
sometimes you can't care
'til the cliff's left behind
and above, as you fall
into habits you've lost
sometimes you can't find
them again by themselves.
They won't ambush you
and start dragging you off
like they always used to,
when such luxury was.
Sometimes maybe
you have to set off
just because.

dream discretion

If you lavish your affections upon me
in a dream, does it matter
whose dream it is?
Hell yes! If
it's your dream,
you fell for the smooth charms
of an impostor! Shock and shame,
to bestow your hot, rollicking fond
favors in fullest extent upon
some dark arts science fiction
doppelganger, while I miss out!
Some dream! Call that fair?
Is life fair? Not in your dreams,
apparently! Whereas, if it's my dream
then, well, okay.

I'm the fool. Ridicule me,
but please. Don't blame me
for asking.

I had to know

whose dream it was

just in case it was yours

avoid the house

It's hard to avoid the house
you go outside and there it is
you come back in to escape it, go
from room to room but
you cannot shake this feeling
that you're surrounded
call a friend
to take your mind away,
and it helps, it does
distract
but
sure enough, if
in the course of the call
you wander back outside again
you see that you were living
a lie. And your friend
is coming over now
run
and run
away, around and around
the house, but it has you
cornered
it's no use

when your friend arrives
you can't explain

this feeling you have
it's right behind you

try not to scream
it does no good
screaming.

You tried
but maybe it's time
to quit avoidance

and face where you live.
Do it
your friend will help you
do it

that's what friends are for

Genuine

Genuine
is not made
just born
every moment
you find the door open
and leave the cage,
because you decide

or realize
you own it.

The very hatred

The very hatred within me pulses,
ponces about in flower garlands,
whistling tunelessly, vacant-eyed
and strumming a lute
which is no lute, jigging
up a storm before the calm

which eyes the spectacle
implacably, providing

the counterbalance. The calm
looks long, finally
draws breath and prounces:

You,
the very hate within us
shall not breach the cloud wall
of this hurricane which storms
you in

you are prisoner here
you cannot get out
we've seen to it

and the very hate within me is like
pfft, like I care

the calm
smiles cruelly, suspecting
some trick. The very calm within me
always smiles cruelly, suspecting
some trick, but

it's a little on the dense
side, you know
kind of thick. The calm
never knows, never finds out
just what the trick is.

The very hate within me
is pure misdirection
all pomp and melodrama

to chain the storm

upsides and down

The downside of honesty
is that truth is the hardest

thing to clarify
or take back.

The upside though,
you don’t spend
your life

swallowing. Shrinking
from imagined, calculated
impacts, unable to risk
putting what you mean
in words when it counts.
No practice, not in
the habit. Sometimes

we all slip. It
seems largely a case

of whether you'd like
it to be obvious why.

Or whether you'd like
to be able to slip
free and hide

kind of guy

I'm the kind of guy

True story.
The kind of guy who
my loved one asked
for an orange
from the fridge. Of course
I would. In fact, tipped off
to a great idea, I decided
I'd have one as well. Guess
what? There were plenty in there.
This is no William Carlos Williams
tragic fable of fruit paucity; plenty
of oranges in there. So sweet
so cold. I took

The two best ones,

and I looked at them
each on the way back.
And I realized

I was going to
give my loved one
the worst one.

I'd keep the best
one for myself. This
realization created
no conflict in me.
Not at all. These
are oranges
we're talking about.
But it did cause strong
feelings. This was something
in me
that I had just faced. And

in doing so,
I realized
something else:

hey, there's a poem
in there! And then, having
realized that,
I arrived

bearing the oranges.

And I gave my loved one
the best one.

the bad news we

The compact
I fear
is forged. But
we endorse and honor
it anyway.
You and I I fear
are undesirable types.
When you see us,
we spell trouble
correctly. We're not
the sort

you want to
be mixing with, hey?

Not if
you know
what's good
for - ah, I don't know.
Whatever you're looking
for things to be good for? That's
your problem. And if you mess
with us, baby, so are we!
Because you and me,
we go around mixing it up,
giving tossers tosses, we say "boo"
to a goose without batting an eye,
like it ain't no thing - one time
you said "bee" to geese. I just
got that. We don't mess around,
if that's what you're getting at.
We fuck
around, at,
with, up, through
and over, and anybody
who comes messing with us
gets one of these. Picture
a menacing hand gesture, just
for starters!
We spell trouble,
and not with a k. We're
in this together, and it's bound
to turn out horribly for some fool's
day

if they
get all trifling, that is.
Geeking and clowning on petty details
while we're on the romp! Trying to step
around all large, laughing at nonexistent
in-jokes, quoting what each other just said,
back to each other in arch, plummy tones.
Calling that shit

repartee

No way,
baby. One look at us
or between us

is fair warning. The bad news we
bring

is only
ourselves.

And you are welcome to it,
since you appear to express
an interest! I suspect
you'd prefer a humorous
meme about it?
Sorry.
You get the award-winning series
of articles, plus
a free 6-month's subscription
if you don't watch yourself

pretty
awful
well.

story of ours

The story of

ours

wasn't always true
but it did come close,
flash by before either one
knew,

took our breath straightaway
in its rush

flew ahead, just a stretch

gave our eyes

a pause to adjust -

disappeared
into distances
hey, wait

- do you think its
come back
for us?

no way

chain eventuality

I wrote that book as a warning sign
and by the end
it had all come true
so I had to burn it as evidence
there was no way
that I could explain
to you

sex as an information gathering tool

Well, sex
is very informative - hard to deny
that! Often
the best way
to find out what people are like
in bed, or
what people want
in bed is: use sex. Sex

is almost like an opinion poll, in that
sense. A poll whose main question is: "Hey!
How do you like the sex?
Is it working for you?"
- only you have to
be attentive to nonverbal
cues, too. The types of noises

people make. Also the words they say,
and how they say them - for instance,
"HEY, WATCH IT!" may not be just
"dirty talk," it probably means

you have to take a second there
and evaluate what it was you just did. Because
it caused a stir in the wrong way, most likely.

Not to say you need to stop the whole works!
Bring it to a screeching halt, no, that's
even worse - probably

the last thing you want to do. But just,
you know, watch it. Maybe go back to
what you were doing just prior
to the outburst.

That seemed to be getting a good reaction.

But the point is, sex
is very informative. Often
after having sex, you find

you have learned a lot about the person
you just had sex with. For example,
if he or she is an asshole, sometimes
that comes to light afterwards
rather than before? But the reverse may be
also true:

sometimes in the wake of having sex,
you're like "This person's a peach!"
And you just discovered it! Or at least,

you discovered it to an even greater degree.
It became
more confirmed,
more apparent. You were able

to use sex as an information-gathering tool.

Just keep in mind. This
isn't the main point of sex. It can't be.
Yes: SEX IS INFORMATIVE, but you can't just
be using sex to get information about people,
about what they're like during and after sex.
You do get that information, true! But it

would be a sick sort of ulterior motive

to have sex with somebody for. If getting that
information is the reason you're having the sex?
That's like using sex to surveil someone, yo. You can't

just be the Big Brother of sex,
having sex as if to say: "hey,
I'm learning about you right now.
Using sex."

What are you running, some kind of
1-man sexual dystopia? No, thanks!

Yeah: sex
is informative,
but that can't be the main point
of it for you, or else
you're missing out on the real lesson.
Probably. Okay,

maybe it depends on the person

If you're a man,

If you're a man,
control your state
of arousal! You may think
a gigantic erection, clearly
visible through the pants, is
your best chance to impress people

and make them conclude you are
confident,
comfortable
in your own skin, and
at ease with yourself.

In an ideal world,
maybe so. However.
Many cultures are very reserved
about sexuality, you know. You
could even say repressed. People

who spot your evident bulge
may not be impressed, but intimidated
or disgusted by the rawness of your state.

They may consider your erection
to be disrespectful, or unsuited
to the occasion. They may also believe

you lack self-control, or are insensible
to social norms and taboos. Even if you
recognize such taboos

for what they are

it's still important to demonstrate
you are able to negotiate them, and
function in a world where they matter
to most people. Self-control is, after

all, a good thing to have - and to show.

But remember: this does not mean
your penis is shameful. Only that you are

sensitive and considerate
of the frailties of others.

culture complex

In ancient itly
the roman gods got all greco
cuz
the people had a culture
complex, and they were like
"Their stories are better
those are our stories! Their gods
were our gods
all along?
They just didn't know! So
we didn't know these stories
but they're about our gods,
so
it's culturally appropriate
that we take them.
They kick ass"

now this became
called "culturally appropriation"
from how it was so
appropriate.
Culturally, it was a culture grab
and today,
to this day
people are like,
"Zeus is Jupiter"

your God damn right he is

anybody wanna fuck with itly
these days on the pagan god-grab
is going to have to go through the Pope,
so

chances are, case closed.

EPILOGUE

EPILOGUE

(__ months later)

A voice: "We have achieved a
return to normalcy."

Another voice: "Yes, a triumph"

1st voice: "We need to spend

the next ten years

after a return to normalcy

developing super-normal powers

- like telepathy, as you suggest."

2nd voice: "I didn't"

1st voice: "Oh, sorry. I thought

you did, never mind. But this

takes ten years

we don't have right now."

2nd voice: "What do you mean? I thought
we were in the epilogue? Normalcy?"

1st voice: "No.

That was a false

plot twist. In fact

we are right stuck
here and now
mid-crisis."

2nd voice: thinking really hard

"OK. Then I firm my resolve
and

[ TRANSCRIPT ENDS ]

panic response

It seems worse
than it really is, which
is worse than people

think
but not as bad as all this:
wild paranoid conjectural
conspiracy political panic
and alarm crap,

which frankly
is spot-on - but a bit overblown.
People have been saying

the economy is going to start killing people.
Just dropping out of trees and off buildings,
and straight-up murdering them

Naturally, I'm for it
if it's unavoidable,
I'm for it. Otherwise
against. If there's any hope
of stopping it? Put me down
as against, but I'm for it
otherwise.

The thing is,
practicality-wise,
overreaction is spot-on
- because it expresses
how we REALLY FEEL

That's a new kind of truth
people are not used to. Well,
a lot of people are going to
GET USED TO IT - to have
to be shocked! That's

all I say. Get used to it,

THESE ARE BOLD TIMES
BOLD WORDS ARE CALLED FOR, and

GROW UP

FUCK ON

Now.
New,
radical
ideas

- that's what I call for.
And fireworks! A BOLD
NATIONAL DISPLAY OF LIGHT,
SMOKE AND BOOM IN THE SKY

This strangeness going on
huge and weird just needs
to be shown: our spirit

is like whoa

when it comes to the pinch.
Believe it, yo

What we can't do
is things like: start youth clubs
to "get the word out" on infectious contagions

Nudity won't help either. It's too late for that

It's too late, that's the problem
for these solutions

Next time

What's needed now is people in their windows
communicating via semaphore and Aldis lamp,
and the message kept constant and on-point:

"THIS STOPS NOW"

worst nightmare ride

The bedroom is drifting away
in the night, I feel gravity
going. Weird color and light
begin opening up
again,
as before. Even though
I'll forget the transition
in time to wake up,
I am sure

this threshold
is like going home.

Going scary
this time, I sense
I am not
and may never have
been alone.

So let go, then
let's go
I'll be fine. Let it wild
let it roam, let the nightmare
stampede, no the nightmare
brigade, no
the nightmare armada,
the nightmare
parade, spring loose
in my mind, except
no,
it's more
like a nightmare
museum these days. A greatish
hits exhibit of all one's
worst dreams, pressed dead into
frames to fail to amaze,
but
sure

oh, yeah that

was creepy, I sure do
remember that one. Don't worry
it's not you - the abyss
yawns also, oh
quite a display.

My subconscious mind,
apparently
has given up
on scaring me.

And has completely succumbed
to nostalgia. These creeps
and figures don't even
try to inspire dread. It's like
they're costumed college kids
in some terror-themed amusement park,
lurching and tromping out from the wings
calling out for hugs and selfies

my god
what a nightmare

if this keeps up, I dunno
maybe I'll have
to figure out some way
to terrify, brutalize and traumatize
my subconscious into some kind of
less half-ass action? Whatever
they have down there - ego elves?
Iddy biddies? If this keeps up,
I'ma go in a dream and break
the floor open, dive down
there
and give the whole thing a kick
in the butts, nuts and a great
boxing of ears

Because nobody's got time for this
You're trying to sleep
if you're going to put a nightmare on
there needs to be some more quality
fears

otherwise just
send me to the beach!

mind games, boy

If you love something
set me free.
If you don't I'll steal it
and not let you have any
If you do I'll come back to you
and pretend it never was.
And you'll be like
"gettin' pretty sick of these
mind games, boy"

elements of composition

The egg yolk
and the orange juice:
exact same color, visual tone.

It makes the breakfast mis-en-scene
seem still life, perfectly composed.
All harmonies punched home,
brought out
in similarities,

echoed

from plate to table,
egg to glass

in white and golden
yellow-orange glows

with flecks of peppered sass,
and curving metal tines -
the glints produced
picked up in sunshine
wetly kissed

upon egg yolk
and orange juice.

secure protocols

Some of us
are no longer with us
because they didn't listen, so
you the living better listen!
And do as you're told because
this is not a drill, it is
a manacle. It will protect you
and keep you safe and alive
if used correctly, according
to instructions. The chain
slips through the loop
(it is already attached
to the wall) and clasps shut
just so. There! A solid hold,
unbreakable. Now
you're safe
and secure.

And away we go

views of a cloud

When you're down in the clouds,
you call it fog
and amaze yourselves
with what you can't see.
You may curse the visibility
You may curse the clinging damp
and flee indoors. Later on,
you come back outside
to amaze yourselves
at a cloud flying high
So white and alight
with sun all through.
Ablaze on a field
of invincible blue,
making shapes for
everyone. And you feel
as happy as kids. Rewarded
for looking up, and glad
you did. Later on,
the cloud has thickened
and gone deep gray, like
a darkening wish.
You begin to forebode
and to say "What an ugly
day this turned out to be!"
Even though on the upside,
facing away - that cloud
is as fluffy and white
as innocence is.

For girl purposes,

For girl purposes,
you just can't beat
a woman. It's where
your girl is tending towards
anyway, for her fullest
gendered expression
of having sex and being
herself. Don't believe me?
Ask her! "Hey baby, is
womaninity where you're
tending towards anyway,
for your fullest
gendered expression
of having sex
and being
yourself?" She'll
tell you off,
probably. Just
for the fact
you had to
ask

What they don't tell you.

What they don't tell you is
Adam & Eve were atheists
So when they bit the fruit
of the tree of the knowledge
of good & evil, they knew
they had to make up some shit
fast

rush to meeting

He stood
like a wave at sea
and waved, as she ran
like a stream downhill
at him. Always moving
and leaping past tree,
over stone. Never coming
any closer, except
and until the falls

- where she fell,
just about
where he crashed,

and they both
disappeared
into foam.

I'm crying

There are tears on my face
I just noticed, and I want
to get up and show someone,
and reassure them: "I'm crying"

"But it's okay. I didn't even
notice. Crying is just something
my eyes do sometimes. It's

no big deal"

But there's no one to show
at the moment. There are people, but
they seem kind of busy. Anyway

it would really be better if they walked in
and saw
and said "Joe! What's wrong
you're crying?" Then I could be like

big cheerful smile through the wet
tears! "Sorry! I didn't notice

it's just my eyes
they do this sometimes, plus
I'm manly as fuck and don't give
a shit, you know"

- it would be a more effective
reassurance as a rebuttal, versus
me seeking them out. But nobody

notices, nobody cares

and the worst part is
I've stopped crying. My face
isn't even wet anymore

really. Just
kind of tacky.

forever's a Saturday

There's a stir
in the air that moves over the world,
stirring trees
building waves at sea,
pushing back and stacking up clouds
to towers of blackening grey,
all the ways that it's always been
today.

Cats like to sit

Cats like to sit
where they fit
And especially
where it's warm
like you
Their canny understanding
of the law
is: you can't
get up
Once a cat
has seen fit
to sit
and seems so comfortable

it would be a cat crime

The only possible excuse is
dinnertime

(theirs,
not yours)

Alas, it is true,
you find.

I giggle social consciously

Hehehehehehe!

Sometimes I feel like I should be going

Memememememe!

But then I'm like
"hehehe" is one of the few
socially-acceptable ways
to give yourself
a rapid-fire pronoun shout-out
in the third person

And then I'm ashamed
at the levels of male privilege I discover
that so few are privy to

the business

So.
We come to the business
discussion unfinished. Pour us
a big slosh of wine each,
and tell me what
you would like to reminisce
about twenty years from now?
And let us begin us

critical commentary (excerpt)

Secondly, you more deeply and possibly
with as little to argue over, somehow
assume that a universe has been brought
somehow into existence to house such things,
somehow. Three somehows
in one assumption
might be a clue that you reach. Too far? No,
go on with that and let's see where. Mortal
or immortal as your question may prove, I don’t
need to point out to you
how inconvenient it will be
if this basic assumption of yours
is shown up as false. It may be dissimulating,
but the game theory permutation
is gaining fast among hopeful enthusiasts,
self-A.I.dentifiers - do you really want
to pick this fight? Jury’s out, probably
for a long lunch indeed, but a fistfight
in an empty courtroom on an empty stomach,
between ornery combatants who can’t even
agree on a singularity, is a breach
of protocol to say the least.
Lose a point here: you may be right
in the end, but cornering the opponent
between rounds for a haymaker - even swung
hard and overhand right, with a big sock
in the glove (who are you trying to sway,
wadding up empty stockings hoping to overplay
such a delicate hand? At least wash the thing
first! There must’ve been coal in it
none too recently, to judge by the smell) - let’s
just say, you may get away with it
since the judge(s) unquestionably
must’ve taken a powder by now, and thus
missed the telling blow, but if you can’t
convincingly prop the opponent
back up and start whistling innocently
before everyone comes back for round two, how
will his swoon be interpreted? Sudden man-crush?
Please. Okay, call it a tie.

so much doing

There's so much to be done,
and one day
there will not be so much.
Will we laugh with relief?
Or gush
with tears at the loss
of so much to do.

When I fret over this, I take
one look at you

and I worry no more.
For there's so much to see

it would take me
the rest of my life,
and it would not be bad
to rest in such ways.

'Til there's so much to do
piling up for days

if/then

Some dude walks in, smooth
and slick as buttered guts,
trusting you to take on trust
just what it was that he intends
to mean by this, to unknown ends.

Well, what
do you mean then
to do? Now that
it all depends on you!
The give is gave! The take is
missed. You hesitate to say.
Let's kiss.

Let's not.
Let's fact-find this, explore
a bit, find what to reasonably expect.
Find more - surprise ourselves! And then,
and if,
if/then
connect.

crowded house

Someone's in the kitchen
it's a baby, it's a mother
someone kneeling, someone
busying
in front of the fridge. And
someone's in the other room,
and also in the other, and
the other, and I'm wondering
where my space is, or where
it's going
to be

but I love

being so filled up

with family and friends, or
whoever all these people are

It's a real thing
that you can't pretend

into a place, when the house
is hollowed out, and you can breathe
again

so near
so far

so good.

The toilet seat is warm again

I wish

we all lived

Where we could
do this frequently instead of
for a week or three

and then we'd just
pop by and in and enjoy
each other and ourselves and then
just go free.

But I will

take it while it comes to me.
The world can empty out itself
some other day, today I will know

I am full

in a corner of the kitchen
of this crowded house

remember this well. You are going to
miss this people when they go,
and they always do

long before they ever start
to smell

languishing

We languish in language,
languidly, and pull ourselves
out now and then to see
this sprawling-behind-us
skein of words. Do they really
say all that was deserved? No.

There's all too much left
to speak to this. Sometimes,
we must let it fall to bliss
and languish in wordlessness
as well. Except

how to let the other
tell?