Monday, December 31, 2012


Elegance is brutal work

Those imputing genius to me,
though, posit edifice I leap
with single bound, fans therein

cheering roundly, as for Giants.
Now, Academy desires more
decimal places. Easiest, for
that far out,
random suffices.

Lazy? Give bean counters

fewer beans, foul addiction.

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Sunday, December 30, 2012


Account From Ecclesiastic, Though Crude 

The woman who worried about everything!
Did a 180 and could give a shit less. 

When last I saw her: “Ever see tits like these, Reverend?”
Whipping them around. “Anything in your Bible compare?” 


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Saturday, December 29, 2012

“But what do I know?”

A mystery reading that “I”: I’m
expert and they’re flailing? Or…
In the dark, oft-beset me, encore? 

Just samples, of course, from what-
ever weird amalgam makes you up.  

Well, anyway, start with humility.
Will contrast you. 
And yes, the little pop-up arrogance

contributes too.

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Friday, December 28, 2012


Fearing fear itself


was a good one ole

Roosevelt or somebody

come up with. Should’ve


known his Gwen, Rick

mused. But breathing easier

what with football season


putting her erratic shit on hold.

She’s team’s severest critic

and totally focused.

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Thursday, December 27, 2012




All the docs&meds&exercise&herbs&

minerals&positive-thoughts. My o

amenable you! But a Black Swan glides


anyway. Ordinarily, comes&you go. Though,

hold it in the corner of your favored eye


& tell yourself a story. Of Faith

or its opposite. You pick. Make it


genuine for once. Laugh or grow

querulous. Stutter. Whatever. Keep go-


ing: your own Thousand Nights&this next.

Maybe Swan will so very slowly slide

across your chock-a-block vision


to another part of the lake.

Awaited there for elegance.

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Wednesday, December 26, 2012


When one door closes 

another opens,
Cal was reassured 

by religion and
secular folk- 

lore. He purchased house
with many rooms, where 

doors constantly slam
due to powerful drafts. 

Nothing opens them
unless he does, or wife
Dorothea—who has

told Attorney Gaddings
to file for divorce. 

In another city, Cal Jr
receives news equally. 

As to doors metaphor,
he scoffs, of course.

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Tuesday, December 25, 2012

Up to Here 

For the addict the fix
is all of life. Why it’s
called addiction. My 
quarrel with films depicting

endless runs of subtlety  to
acquire, then absorb, shit.

Stringing ennui further
towards its rancid terminal.

Let’s grab another train.
It’s time.





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Monday, December 24, 2012


At Stake

Not much up till then, 
he goes all in.

But refused cards. “That

truly settles it,” he insists,

“game’s rigged!”


“Startling Revelation Depart-

ment,” sneers dealer.

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Sunday, December 23, 2012

She self-labels Whore! 

Sobbing out the end
of the dim affair. 

Limo of Martyrdom hav-
ing eased to its slot, she 

begins a sinking in
her posh seat.

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Saturday, December 22, 2012

Another Doomsday Passes

with the stray tornado or so,
but space mountains fly past,
and black and brown waves don’t 

materialize to ravage
Idaho hamlets--  

preferring, perhaps, to rage
at the infuriating Lakers. 

Thus, jumpy fingers need withdraw,
reluctantly, from trigger housings. 

Black helicopters stay aloft, their
distinctly awful thrum-thrum 

filtered out from government imposed
bedlam by those who’ve coyly

trained themselves. The Bushmaster,
proven adept in dismembering children,
leads the Hit Parade 
of sales. Sensible folks tell us pay more
attention, be especially polite to paranoids

you may discover secreting among us. 
No mystery who they are, though, for
they announce themselves on radio.






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Friday, December 21, 2012




After the final convulsion, 
the King fled. 
There followed emperors, 
each more decadent 

than the last. Culminating 
with one enamored of making
the nation into his beloved Circus.

The girls felt pretty in 
their spangled tights, and

the men shot from canons, 
despite singed eyebrows,
enjoyed the trip.
But the clowns 
got handguns.

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Thursday, December 20, 2012


Cold War of the Rich 

We drove Soviet Union to its knees
with our dough-re-me. Now Times 

sez repubs losing nationally--can’t move
their lousy package--but bribing states.
 Can we afford to counter
them there also? Enshrined

alongside such spent horses
as Land of Free and
Home of Brave, the eternal  

American question forever soars:
How much justice can you afford?

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Wednesday, December 19, 2012




The wonder is, wasn’t done in
by their collective incompetence. 
After dear preparation, started
following a terrorized heart
to them. Quite a risk for us

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Tuesday, December 18, 2012



"So you wanna ban ghetto blasters?

Good luck with that and all your pussy ways.

Long’s I get to keep my rocket launcher.

Neighbor’s overdue. He’ll be bitching

to the angels soon enough.

Freedom’s what it’s called if you’re

looking for the word.

Fuckin freedom.


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Monday, December 17, 2012



O look! It fits
matrix or curve!   

emits math boy
or girl. Uh huh?  

Fits nothing but, new-
ly shape-shifting, 

can destroy theory.
And, even, you.

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Sunday, December 16, 2012


 Singing About Nothing

It all came back to him now. Like Sinatra, Pippy had lived
a life that’s full—minus a few women.
Something of that feeling leads him to perform My Way at
the Kool Kup’s Karaoke Night.
Nothing could have prepared him for the wrath. 

Highlighted by Yocko’s girlfriend, Big Boobs Gladys, as he  
sings of travelling each and every highway:
“Yeah, on your knees!” 

This proves chief zinger among many. 
Yocko has already chimed in with “Your way? Everybody 
else’s, more like!” 

Even Silent Lucy sings her little parody in the space where 
Pippy puts the mike down to sip a drink and light a cigarette,  
a la Frank. “Regrets, you’ve had a million!”
He later speaks of his hurt to Other Harry, who snaps “Who
cares about what a buncha drunks thinks? Besides, it’s the
wrong crappy song for you.”
“What’ll I…?”
"Sing about nothing next time. Don’t make
yourself a target.”




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Saturday, December 15, 2012


Intellect Empty as Faith 

But you can photograph
and enumerate 

murdered children. Append 
pathological notes. What

ultimately descends are
moral splinters forever

moving away from
your hand.

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Friday, December 14, 2012


Least Stage 

“Oh Rensselaer!
You’re so polytechnic!” 

Thus was I  defamed
among his lesser turns. 

I wanted him killed off in
The Great War, but our frame 
proved skirmish only,

where many were chosen
but few called

to any duty save
money grubbing. 

Necessary always though
hardly the stuff
of Romantic Legend. 

We died,
and that’s always a moment, 

but I’d be hard
put delineating others.



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Thursday, December 13, 2012


 When the Gay Couple Move In- 

to our suburban development,
we expect slow acceptance. 

Practically immediate. Helped
they’re social, running Bean-
bag Toss in our yearly fete, 

doing mucho driving for
Little League and Pop Warner.  

Most instrumental in Safe Prom Night.
Insuring our boys and girls not mangled 

in booze-stinking sedans. Capper arrives
when they’re invited by holdout Neanderthals
to  Sweet Sixteen party. But, no,
the ultimate capper: They come out  

as Conservative Republicans! “Oy!”
exclaims Mac Murphy, and “Begorrah!”
appends Sid Cohen. Democratic Co-Chairs.

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Wednesday, December 12, 2012

The Conversation

-Howsit goin, Jim Crow? 

-Worse than it was. 

-Well, when that Natural Rhythm kicks in...! 

-We’ve grown tired of that. And all the
touchdowns and dunks. Like there's nothing
else we can do! 

-We admire you people tremendously! 

-Then why extract the vote? 

-Demographics is all. Politics demands some
raw things! You do what you hafta do!--
a phrase you've used yourself.

-Out of desperation or impotence.

-Can’t be the latter with you bucks, nosiree!

-Comfort me with apples for I am sick of love.

-All the fuckin apples y'want!
























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Tuesday, December 11, 2012



Possible that Social

Security, Medicare,


need some tinkering

to sustain. Quite difficult


to see much

in the fog of

a war thrust


forth by Wealth &

its hired guns plus

hissing troglodytes



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