to my transient chagrin,

while gripping my mandolin,

sometime yesterweek

I fell off mountain pique

Sohi Chesapeake …

but no problem!

I had suitable technique

and a strong enough,

quite marvelous physique—

with, to boot in goodly measure,

utter self-conceit—

to make of splendid me,

as you might suppose,

in case of gross emergency

a superhuman athlete …

the sap’s in trees,

my honey’s dew

to wake up too …

the wind makes breeze,

we snug, don’t freeze …

’tis morning time,

I do yet rhyme—

and ’tis still true

that I love you

“Heav’ns to murgatroid!”

Cried Pretty Boy

Floyd …

“I’ll do anything

Possible to

Avoid

Being gainfully

Employed!”

Sorry, Pliny
(his words in italics)

Do not unduly despair:
Nature hath distributed safe
and effective medicine
most everywhere---
excepting in particular
as a part of
our ongoing nightmare,
the one of our so-called
breathable 21st Century air …
or when we’re under current
doctors’ costly care.

I was mucking about, having fun on a huge black inflatable pontoon, designed to do maintenance under the Harbor Bridge, that’s how big it was. It drifted away and sprung a leak, I was terrified. People on the shore yelled at me to jump or I’ld be killed when it wrapped me up and drowned me. I jumped, landed in the harbor, it was a long way to swim to shore, but I knew I could. Then I saw shark fins. The people were yelling again, there was a dingy floating about 400 meters away. I floated on my back and paddled gently towards it, hoping not to attract the sharks attention.

I have been working on a film, my film. Its kind of like a ‘30’s West-end musical. Cardboard cutout sets, the whole thing being shot in a huge old disused theatre. It’s a hoot, really corny song and dance routines, even involving umbrellas, there is romance, sea-adventure, action. Nobody is getting paid much, if at all, except some of the namier actors. Most of the crew are student film-makers. We are all staying near by, at an abandoned National Fitness Camp.

The Iced Vovo- Metaphorical Plea or Metanymic Demand?
Cultural Paradigm or Naughty Little Boy?

In defining cultural parameters for this investigation the author sought to establish an historical context, verify iconic integrity and mediate disparate ideologies. This observer believed a thorough and ongoing methodology, established through defined statistical forms and informed by intuitive risk assessment would be necessary to interface meaningful zootic/embryotic preforms with aesthetic significators .

The Writer Writes…

When I’m all alone
Perfection exists on my own
I can no longer think of blunders
All I can see is most direct, no errs
The thoughts of changing into better
Thinking the things to be done in God’s will.

No more laughters
No more smiles and tears
Thinking…all over again
Just a pen and a bit of paper I gain.
Making my anguish gone is the aim
Asking ‘why am I like this anyway?’
‘why do i think this way?’

A siren rings in minds and aloud
all jump to post or clothes or wakefulness.
Invasion, error, drill or
something.
Whatever.
He hits the floor before he is fully awake and is pulling on clothes and checking gear
as instructions come through.
Anomaly b24
Oh shit,
she is on that watch.
He runs up the grass hill to the concrete block that is b24.
Through the window he sees her and her watch-mate struggling in a purple haze.
Oh fuck.
All thought flees.
The source!
He turns and runs down to it,

written

My chewed lips reek
like a printing press
of unseen word formations
discovered on a blind
man’s Rosetta Stone.

I have a blind man’s walk
and no need of a stick.
The earth and empty spaces
parking lots
chattering malls
tap me on in
mocking inarticulacy.

I need no guide dog
lights and soft pop songs
gossip about my
anonymity in dreams.