everyone around you is greiving

Month: January, 2004

if in the old days

before the medieval days
before the baby jesus days
and the pagan turned christian days
the romans had fashion magazines
and fashion media
they’d all be walking around
with their placid cocks out
stroking and strutting their stuff
in famously lit coliseums
while tigers
and giraffes
mauled at their genitals


according to grapefruit

my poems lack sugar

they’re bitter
ugly to swallow
spit you in the eye
when you try and
spoon out
any pulp


according to richard brautigan
even a fart in the middle of the night
deserves a poem


when i was in paris

my penmanship was superb

i’m not sure if it was the seine air
or the awnings
that left everything

so aloof

i wrote like the clouds wouldn’t move

unless you were staring


your europe stares back at me

through the dull haze of a lit purple candle

i keep your europe boxed away
with the slow southern anthems
i had spool’d out of a spindle i found
from the corners of your eyes

your europe fills me like water

it claws through older photographs
of stiller times
and hides from the
care bear monument we created out of
museum stubs

sometimes though
when i let your europe breathe
it chokes on american fumes

like arrows from my stride
falling dead in their wake


the pain in me reaches high e

as i pretend to write you

a lullaby
from the back wheels
of my bmx

i am singing the tablature
of your moon sign
without noticing

cracks in the pavement

holes in the street


she calls me on the eve of my awakening

as i say goodbye’s to open doors
she closes more

the hinges are all but rusted
so i creep through
the awkward window
just to see her breathe it
without me

my inhaler it seems


on her nightstand


saw the coliseum today

rainy long lines and japanese tour groups sprouted umbrellas over feral cats and humming police sirens

took a walking tour where blah blah this is that and blah blah this was that and this wasn’t really that ’cause this was really that

and blah blah as the rain poured and more umbrellas and ferrel cats and police sirens stirred

and oh how napoleon did this but mousollini did this and if you look over here where napoleon did this but the romans did that and mousollini was just a little bit too late

because blah blah this and blah blah that

and then we saw the palatine hill where this housed that and the church did this and the church did that

and it rained some more and more japanese tour groups grew umbrellas out of their digital camera heads

and feral cats ran in circles while police sirens and rain and snapping flashes filled the empty spaces where buildings used to stand

where people used to worship pagan this and pagan that and the churches meant this and the earthquakes did that

where old ruins used to stand and fall where this was here and that was there and this meant that and that meant this

and the puddles got bigger and the rain came and went

and more japanese tour groups started sprouting out of the puddles with digital flashes and digital umbrellas

and digital tour guides filled up the space where churches and pagan gods and monuments and romans used to stand under the rain that came and went like the feral cats and police sirens and the buildings and the structures used to stand

because this is that and that was this

and at the end of the tour
we had an italian lunch
and sat in the sun
with our wine
and our cigarettes
and as the sun came out
rome was beautiful


my first attempt at solace

second grade

drama class

i would mime myself
out of a box
in the corner
of the room

i remember

quite clearly