Oh What

Oh what I have never
told
you in
person I
hope I have just
shown
you in verse.

No Service

No service. No assistance. No help. No love. It was the future. The future just as planned. All so suddenly. Yesterday for sale. Improved input technology. The way manufactured no longer by God. The new American way from before. The named memory. The hairless now. Totally exposed.. euphoria.

She was a practical girl

She was a practical girl who liked pretty tools. I was a temporary drunk on a one time bender. Only so much use for a bent tool. I hammered out the rest of my days in dulled sobriety. She went to the toolbox for something shiny and new. We met once again on a movie set. They were ruining my most important script. She was arm in arm with the star. He sure butchered what was left of my lines. I cashed in on the box office. Started drinking for real. That's how I ended up back in Hollywood. Rich as the finest gem in a plaster setting. Alone as the last of a breed of naive Americans. Sipping something extraordinary with which I flooded Mulholland Drive, flowing through every canyon road, down to the valley on one side, onto Sunset on the other, spreading, rolling, until every street in the city limits was a distributary of a river of elixir - sharing my meaningless wealth in a mostly destructive but ever so slightly revolutionary way.

DOMA

I met her in a nation
in a coma
I asked her name and in a
purple voice was told:
DOMA
D-O-M-A
DOMA

Now I ain't dumb
so I do understand
the lay of your life
can get screwed by
the hand of The Man
even after DOMA
Watch out, even
After DOMA

Cheering Queers kissed on the mouth!
I tanned and tried voting in the South!
I got down on my knee!
I showed my voter ID

Some even asked of my literacy

It’s 5 to 4
and it ain’t going to be any more
as long the country’s the way
it’s been long before
before DOMA

Now I ain’t the land’s most flag-waving man
but I know what I am, I’m an American
unlike DOMA
D-O-decades-after-A
DOMA

D’oh
D’oh
D’oh
D’oh
DOMA

So, duh

I am running out of ways to say how you killed me. But the bench where I first took your picture; the tree you hugged; the train stations: they all say it to me. Maybe if it keeps raining I’ll surface; I ain’t buried so deep. But it seems it never rains quite hard enough to unleash my filthy corpse.

Could this be what happens when I don't have a Coca-Cola™ for over a year?
Left for dead
as a traitor to America™?

No, that ain't it. I am just
trying to change
the subject.

Rescued from

Rescued from the storm
By a coven of knitters
on Lincoln.
Still, was all wet
already.

The head knitter
then recognized me as
fellow who saw her other day
in abandoned shelter
on Lincoln where I had said to her
-There used to be a bus here…
and we again discussed
fruitless community attempts to save the bus.

I need further rescue
of the kind
I'll never find
On this street again.

academinotes {2011}

I might make a bad viual arts teacher- because I’m over painting’s fundamnetal flaw of tiime  and quickly finished in museums. urn

barbr krgr
cindy shrmn - because of prfrmtv aspect, though i hate her inclusion
yoko ono - bcus she does all

bill viola
komar and melamid
jeff koons because he’s a joke

my favorite visual artists are friends of mine

i'm too enamored of art to fixate on culture. context is king only for art that is somewhat lacking

i like the idea of getting it all wrong viewing art and still getting a lot out of it, by being active viewer

"That was all new to cinema, but as none of us really knew how to do any different, it didn't feel like a risk." - Raoul Coutard

i'm impressed by cave drawing, by lady gaga's shoes, by the arrow in the fedex logo

i don’t see distinction between hi & lo art, just intense or weak art. weak art bores me

i just as soon look at a hipgnosis album cover or an impressive menu than almost any painting made before the 19th century
i like how doucet abandoned her art
one of my favortie visual artists ever is a comic book artist. he;s bold & inventive. that;s rare

  i like kirby bettr than lichstn & bttr than the hollywood rapists
hollywood the most popular intrdsplnry art
i see in my job what art mostly is- it’s total compromise if you want to live off it.  But hollywood does occasionally merge art with profit. It’s also hype. The poster I’ve been working on for hot book blockbuster has ‘leaked’ online, is it a real leak? is it just hype? Aren’t the great artists of the past hype? at least some of them? did they have good PR?
only diversity I care about is divrsty of individual
we’re not taking about reality; we’re talking about art
I don't have interest in art that is identified by its racial or gender afiliation. i think it’s prosaic inherently, and not poetic. dntbelieve in racial / gender pride- it's no more deserverd than shame
it's missplaced like positive stereotypes

mockery as child did not cause me to feel I should be proud of myanymore than I should be while knowing I shouldnt be ashamed

should not feel pride of language & democracy and the trojan horse, anymore than shame in their disastrous military coup in cyprus.  every generation is new and while the past is important,and nothing is original , nothing is as special as the fantasy of uniqueness in the arts

what classes are these exactly, anyway?  my real emphasis as artist is a performer, and how the visual supports that,  from my face on outward

I think painting is an urn full of yesterday. unfortunately more like the inside of the urn, not even the outside, and shows you no glimpse of life. stuck in time.  because time & the moment are the greatest thing in art.  I don't want to read a novel because the world may end before i'm done. this is a fast world. I want succint art that gets to me yet allows for more inspection if I have time. yet I still wanna watch the empire state building for eight hours if i ever get the chance because t hat will halt time , abuse it even. but painting doesn't readily allow for maniuplation of time. yet video art is ugly, if you can see the screen. installations can do it

there's some graffitti of warhol, too.

there's beutfl mntns & an empty billboard outside my window on world famous Sunset Blvd, for days now. this is unheard of.  they always are in use. instead it's actually wrapped in white canvas. I want to keep it that way. you might think i'd want to go out there and cover it with my own work, or encourage students to cover it with theirs. But, this world is full of visual clutter, and I wouldn't want any so-called artist putting up art there unless it was hot.  I'd rather have more advertising that I can easily ignore, I don't want art that I can ignore. All we have time for in my view is art that blows yer mind -hi, low, visual, American, foreign- there's some innate element that makes art good or bad, other details be damned.  I know it when I see it, even if I don't understand it.  Knowing whether art is good or bad is better than understanding it. A guy I knew could play the horn, and he thought Kenny G was better than Coltrane. I can't play the horn, but I sure know better than that. I don't know how to pass this 'eye' of mine onto students, if you're interested in giving me a shot that will be my prime objective.

I felt something about Jesus

I felt something about Jesus
just now.
I felt sympathy for Judas too;
for not existing,
for being synonymous with
a whole people,
for being a scapegoat for the
Romans.

But back to Christ.
Who is better at being Christ?
: Zoroaster? : Ian Gillan?
: Your flat screen TV with young
  Mr. Gower?

I had a sad X--Mas Eve
watching my third favorite movie
not alone.
I had a sad X--Mas
of accusations
not alone.
I had a numb New Year's
      alone with
some of my best friends.

I don't remember Easter.

And now, off season, I felt something
about Jesus.

Don't you know me, Bert?
Happy New Year to you…
in Jail!

Why don't you man up
(& come down)
like the
Father? Whose art, in heaven, has
so many shots of Thou
staying up on the cross.

Though that would oppose my feeling of Jesus.
Not about.
That's it:
Of.
My feeling
Of
Jesus.

I think I am
better at Christ even
without Gillan's chops
or young Gower's glow.

I have a certain
Jesus sais quoi.

Merci
please
Mercy on us
All.

I am trying to say none

I am trying to say
none of your names
( at least not aloud )
but I caught myself shaving
blurting out a couple of them.

Better I had cut myself shaving,
bad.
Better 'twere blood running down
my neck and my
white shirt, o'er my
naked crotch and
pooling on this
stranger's floor,
than any of your names escaping
my lips.

Overheard on Train

Guy one - " he calls soccer football "
Guy two - " my dad's from England and has a British accent "
Me - " what do you call golf? "
Guy two - " Golf? golf. What do you call it? "
Me - " I call it boring "
Guy three - " coming in hot over here! Got any more? "
Me - " I got plenty "
Guy three - " keep 'em coming "
Me - " I'm too tired "

Epic Whore

This world is full of vipers and vixens and pimps and mostly strangers.
I feel I deserve to be cast as the romantic lead in a righteous war epic, but I keep getting the whore role in a morbid sitcom.

Stretch of Stars

It never occurred to me I might walk on the Hollywood Blvd star of someone I've met.

I want a whole stretch of the street for all the stars I know that no one in Hollywood has heard of.

Scenic Prep

I am going to press you all flat and make a crowd scene backdrop out of that."
  - so the police came
It was too late.
And the newfound symphony played.

A Rat

A
Rat
crossed my path and
I thought of how they
used to make
You
scurry.

Uh Moon Uh

Dreamless sleep
and sleepless dream
I’m not from where I used to be.
So defiled by this world
any parents could abandon me,
Mr. D.

And then the moon
that hugs the tree;
and then
A Moon a
better me
& then
A moon a-lovin’ me
& then
A Moon, uh
let me be.

Now in the sun I recognize Nothing.

Peel your fruit from the inside out

Peel your fruit from the inside out.

On the run from almost nothing

I'm on the run
from almost nothing
& doing good deeds for strangers.
Stopped a lady from
backing into a truck;
Offered a young girl the
last bowl of gazpacho
(didn't even know she had
a mouthful of rubber
bands);
Let the people know
about the steam coming
off the streets.

There was stream
coming off
the streets.

My Father Told Me A Joke

When I was a preteen
I'd say maybe ten or twelve
I don't recall
My father told me a pretty hilarious
Joke I do
Recall.

He said :
Son, do you know why Greek priests
wear long flowing gowns
that reach all the way down to the
ground?

I said :
No Dad, why?

He said :
Because underneath or inside
one of those gowns
you can fit an
entire young
boy.

My mother was fairly
aghast.
But this is
Father's Day.

In Greek mythology

In Greek mythology
I'm the one who
Comes for you in
The underworld.
In realty
You're the one
Who sends me
there.

suicide mission USA

last year at this time
I planted a bomb
in my heart.



is there nothing
I can do
in service
to my country?
nowhere I
should be
when I
finally
explode?



dear Mr.
President
which innocents
or innocence
should die
in the name
of freedom
of
the heart?
just my own?



but I’ve
been such
a good
American
and I’m tired
of
dying
alone

.

I have wandered

I have wandered

as if on a mission

I have wandered

lonely as a cloud

I have hated myself for love

I have hated myself for beauty

I hated myself for nothing

and you

I have loved you

for nothing

but your fine ways 

and your diction

and the way you hold your 

head when you smile

Chicago Again

first night back
in crime city and
i nod off between blue line stops
looking at Hawks score and
someone stole my phone right out
my hands
with poems that are gone forever
that i'll never rewrite

I've been so mad at myself for falling in love
but never so mad at myself for
falling asleep

Sure Ain't Mine

All I can do in this chair is think of you. It suspends me in the air but I am caught in thoughts of you.
All I can do at the lakefront is craft words you'll never read; maybe the lakefront ain't for me no more. Maybe the words ain't for you. I think they are. Maybe the words ain't even mine.
Maybe the elevated ain't for me no more.
Nor the Loop; nor the Chagall; nor the Millennium music nor the grandest & most patient pose I ever struck in front of Essanay Studios nor acts of love in such flatlands from which I hail nor art films shown where a famed reviewer is mistaken for a critic.
Maybe I should run toward the sunset. But you once wished upon the sunset for us to wed, and the sunrise appears over the forsaken lakefront so perhaps I am stuck with the new moon in an empty sky.
Maybe I was born here, just a few miles from here, and maybe another part of me was born right here, in this chair - or was it the other chair? Maybe it all ain't for me no more; maybe it ain't even my hometown now.
Our friends' children get my joyful attention for a moment but then one mistakes your umbrella for mine. I think it's your umbrella. It sure ain't mine, rain or shine.

Tear me to pieces

Tear me to pieces
Literally, not just verbally as we're so
Used to.

Rip my heart out, not just
Figuratively as you've grown
Bored with.
I want my last sight to be my
Still beating heart
In your delicate
Witch hands.

Don't include
My remains in some potion to
Lure another.

Someone take my skin off

Someone take my skin off, all this blood I don't want. Someone who somewhere has wires for veins.

Send me back to the ocean, back in the sea, or pond even.

Keep me off the ground.

Let me sleep at night.

Monster Romance Comic

How did they end up monsters in a
Romance comic
when they were reworking our
Dramedy into a Romcom?
Where is the adaptation that ends
Well?
The Broadway musical?
We need a return on this.
No one's buying
Monsters In Romance Comics
Monsters in Romance Comics with its stellar scripting. Such augmented illustration. A superb title.
In one exceptional issue we all win when a certain Monster Romance ends happily.
On another recognized classic of the genre,
Monsters Solve Love
The main characters are monsters who solve love.

I hope I have your attention:
Monsters For Sale

I put my hand to my face

I put my hand to my face and won an
Oscar.
I had a Grammy effect on everything
I touched.
Listen, say:
Gone.

here to turn off the universe

I am here to turn off the universe.
I know you may not believe me,
  but
I have bigger concerns.

The words of the endeavor

The words of the endeavor were grand.
The results lacked impact.

I wanted to have my bones ripped out
My body ripped to pieces.
There was this massage specialist
Did the trick

I was a wonder
A jellyfish only
Madder

A piano part that won't fade

All these poems

All these poems I'm
Posting
You should be
Reading
Aloud

Sex Holiday

The President is on a sex holiday. It was thought he needed some new press. The Secretary of State is doing tons of blow with the rest of the Cabinet. Cuba attacks Miami. No one saw this coming. The Vice President, in a corset, acts decisively. Sends in some Marines and the invaders are put down. We grant Cuba statehood. Make it the new capital too. The whole state. They get to vote. The VP wins his promotion easily in the next election.
In the following war with Japan , needless millions die on both sides until Canada intervenes. No one saw that coming either.

OT '13

2013 Overcoat Thrust attendees. A fan club gathering for an obscure poetic detective unaware of his actual place in literature. Starts with a new Thrust adventure: getting to the convention held in his honour; he's going to sign some things for profit.
{ OVERCOAT THRUST ZEROS OUT ABOUT CASHING IN }

The first dark moment he insinuates the shadows. The very first chance available. They'll never get his autograph like this. He'll be out of here in no time and on to the next case.

From love to other concerns

From love to other concerns he was exhausted. Completely exhausted. And there were the dizzy spells that were also magic spells. Fainting into wonder. And the villains then began to assemble. In the dizzy magic realm there were now villains. He could defeat these villains, with near ease. But still, exhausting. And the damsel was a shopkeeper. In the magic dizzy existence the damsel was a capitalist. And with each villain defeated (even with the repeated defeat of some) he would reap reward to heap on the damsel, which she would invest in the shoppe. For she truly was a capitalist, in a fantastic otherplace accessed by his fainting.
And when he came out of the faintings there were villains and the damsel was a capitalist too.

I went home homelessly

I went home homelessly. I followed some trails. Nothing there of course.
I went home homelessly and was alone when I got there.
I painted a street number in front of the empty lot. I built a mountain there. At the top, it rained a little every day so I always had fresh water. The weather was perfect , so I was naked a lot. I turned into a bird.

Now everyone can

Now everyone can you hold hands ?

Okay

I have nothing more to ask.

I am trying to solve

I am trying to solve a puzzle made solely of one missing piece.

Write alone all

Write alone all of you.
Make pancakes too.
It's all for the dance
Tomorrow at noon

Such a lot

Such a lot of temporary encouragement without any allegiance. The new heirs disband. The heroes in absence , the opposition spent. Nothing.

My father looked like Abe Lincoln

My father looked like
Abe Lincoln
if Lincoln were shorter and
Lebanese.

My mother is as
adorable as a
Cypriot could
be.

And I turned out like this.

Born in
Lincoln's Land
abandoned at the other
End of
Route 66

finally returning to
My hometown
at the cost of endless
Fractured
Heart Poses.

Now for now I'm back in the
Perpetual California Sun Salutation

late afternoon light
hitting my face
which throughout my life
has always been seen,
except by a couple of nuns and
one or two lovers,
as quite
Honest.

Must be a familial trait
on my
Fathers' side.

MyNewBookDrive

I am going to write a new book., it starts right here. You're with me from the beginning. You gonna stick with it till the end , baby? I shouldn't have called you baby; You're the reader.
I am from another time: about two minutes ahead of the present. By the time you read this, it still won't be current. It'll be early.

Chapter one – the oblivion parade
oh oblivion and its dancers
oh fire
oh parade.

Look her wands are running wet from the fountain of sin. She leads the parade.

Oh oblivion settle in, it's a long night
'Til the end of the parade

Chaos 2 – the bugs
my typewriter did not
attract insects in the dark in the night like this laptopscreen does.
Bugs flying around
the side of my eyes toward the screen. DO you see them?
They haven't
landed on a word yet.

Thee Three -
father, son, holy maid

For
You I write this book

Chapter 5 – parade tryst
they had a tryst during the parade
in a ground level room on the parade route
no curtains but the legs of all the paraders & the parade goers kept anyone from seeing.
The two of them I think it was. Just the two of them. In a tryst.

Six six Six six Six six
- when i drove

when i drove the letter in to a bug I felt I had gained control of the situations

Chaplin 7
- Chaplin 7 had been designed as an improvement of course. After the disastrous 3 through 6 period, not much to strive for.
There were blue wings
and the hat could fly
(but the hat
could always fly)

eight) the winning stretch
with the season on the line we win 9 and 10, too.

ElEvEn – appendix
* The author would like to thank Charlie Chaplin and you.
06 03 2013 USA (WEST)

Embarrasself

I embarrassed myself
Today.
What did I do?
Tell someone I love them?
Open the door for a sick child who then
                 kicked me?
Write this poem?
Oh, yeah
I wrote this poem.

As if by divine endorsement of the virtue of the search

As if by divine endorsement of the
virtue of the search, I have found your
missing (   ). I am thinking of burying it, or
- at greater expense - sending it directly into the heart of the sun. If you have
any subjectively more practical suggestions,
they will be given
preferred consideration.