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made up on landfill from the cross-bronx expressway…
lots of granite… and people’s homes

(mugwort on right)
.iP

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come get your testosterone here!

.iP

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the greatest thing I’ve noticed I’m learning
living here
is how not to buy into drama

sure
occasionally I cash in my chips for some cacophony

but most of my time here has been untying those knots

not rushing down the sidewalks, the subway stairs

I’m strolling

I’m not falling in love
I’m learning compassion
but letting people freak out on their own terms

less anger
I feel
less desperation
less desire

more acceptance

am what I yam

mmmm, I still love pop music
but not as much
"there’s only now
no ever-after
we won’t let in
any disaster
you are my twin
no I will
never
go there"

watching the sun set into the river
the endlessly undulating waves offer nothing but beauty
no enticing promises…

but with the sun gone
it’s cool
ending of summer
I best put my clothes on and get on with my day

.iP

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it seems
society accepts a model of growth where the individual makes sense of the world up til puberty (if that) and then has only those tools to work with
only that data

"somehow you’ve red-rovered the gestapo circling my heart"

our contemporary hoosier culture
with girls wearing barettes
boys wearing glasses too big fir their face
to make it smaller
I
myself
have a specific attraction in my sexuality to be with the bigger, the adulter… so that I might get moments of transcendental childhood with them

and when I speak with my mother
and other denizens of the Midwest
they often refer to reality as something static and limited only to their direct experiences
which is, I would think, a healthy perception
but woefully inadequate for the model of the world connected through all ideas

all those ideas are presented through biases
so people read from the bias they come from
keeping the infinity of our shared reality
limited and static
usually only perceiving differences from their vernaculars as shadows encroaching on the one-true-light of their paradigm

the art the art the art needed
bias directed subversion
that’s convincing
as so many of them expose their directives too early on

but of course
this is trickery
manipulation
seduction…

and what do I need any souls for? greater than my own? increase the power of my hand. my own cadre of mortmains. puppet communities.

with all my worldiness
my own ignorance
I believe I should steer aspects of planet-ship Earth

but shouldn’t anyone who feels the call try?
not every one succeeds, or course
but doesn’t that follow our fantasy of Capitalism and Democracy…
following the tails of Monarchies and Tribes
organizing speaks to Order
it has changed
it will change
we can’t just leave it up to chance and Politicians…

.iP

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this summer has really gotten away from me
so many things I intended to do

dreams

the Jewish holidays coming early this year
they know
summer’s on its way out
dry

the water’s low

the mugwort’s almost blooming

I feel like I’ve got nothing in the air
up coming
undone the glamours
now here we are
me

huuuuuu

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but back stage
we’re shuffling the decks

I’m desperate here
I should have mentioned

I didn’t know
I was standing on the shore today

the waves were high
I saw a broken old raft

I clambered over the rough granite
barefoot in the hot sun

a rope had it stuck under deep rocks
it was close enough for me to jump on

I swayed with the waves
avoiding splinters and upturned nails

I swayed with the waves
and imagined pushing out to sea

with one good friend
or alone

where would we go?
it was only later I considered

what to eat? to drink?
how to steer?

so attractive
helpless on the ocean

floating away from any possibility
of destruction or salvation

.iP

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the Islamic takeover of the world

so
my client today told meson faction of Islam in Denmark told the government that in 30 yearstgey would control the Danish government simply because they are reproducing more and will have a substantial percentage of the vote in order to get whatever they want
he said
"it’s already happened in Amsterdam: two gays were just killed my Muslims. they’re taking over"

yeah, and soon all women will have to wear burkahs

yesterday
in an SUV driving along the east side highway
with the most adorable orthodox Jewish guy I met at the tenth street baths years ago
listening to Savage Nation
I could hear Michael’s spit through the speakers
he ranted like a rabid dog
insane ignorant garbage
declaring the American sale of billions of dollars of fuel to Israel a hopeful attempt to overthrow the "evil ruler" of Iran
so all of the women there could throw off their burkahs and be free
and what
be raped?
will an equal measure of war save women in this country from wearing dangerous high heals and dressing like prepubescent sex objects?
a confusion, I’m sure, between fashion and culture
oh, and perspective

yes
the whites aren’t populating enough
in thirty years time
our minority will be too stark to ignore
we’re afraid
afraid of dying
afraid of living
afraid of live
afraid of sex
our own bodies
betrayed by our weakness
sicking all the villains we’ve created in the brown people we’ve abused in recent history after us
but it’s not retribution
it’s just history telling itself
why shouldn’t Islam have it’s turn?
what modicum of horrors did "Christianity" inflict on every culture it could lay it’s greedy grimy paws on?
how much was destroyed and abused in the name of God?
a god we don’t even know the name of…
at least Muslims have a hundred names of his beauty
and wear great beards

time time time
two thousand years of slavery and abuse
passing on the baton

it’s not like our culture is all that great
or sacred
torturing countless women and children in my short life time
so we can drive our big cars
and buy our scads of cheap crap at walmart et al

I don’t mean to be a misanthrope
but it’s the gobo I see the light of humanity through

all’s fair in the human story
and what turns over in the next hundred
or thousand years
will have its turn as well

til the next great driver is ready to take the wheel

they’ll learn how to love, I’m sure
civil rights movements all over again
a new version of the modern women
a new version of the sacred homosexual a new version of the liberated (humbled) white man
everything will almost fall into place
with the minor sadness of a large percentage of the planet becoming uninhabitable
but it will almost be good again
almost

then the aliens will come
or leviathan
or the Tao
and turn it all over

we’ll keep spinning right along
yeah
it’s alright

while you’re waiting
your could buy the new album by
of Montreal
False Priest
think about sex
and laugh about it all
while dancing

.iP

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green pants
nineteen seventies
in his sixties
healthy
but drinks snapple
glasses, he may have borders David Byrne’s hair
a polyester sports style bag
though
he’s dressed for something else tonight
and sitting behind him at 90°
a short woman
who’s feet barely reach the floor
pale plumpy short legs
skin sandals
blending into the dirtesque flooring
her skirt matches the era
with flowers printed in oranges and pinks
topped with a red blouse a color Izod would have used
her hair is dreaming of Mama Cass

the orange and yellow seats as a background creates a relationship with the woman in purple
oh that was just her bag
she’s also reminiscing of sports tonight with her tight black pants to the knee and her loose navy t-shirt
terrible white tennis shoes on
but they feel like they may actually have a use
instead of some half assed boring blank attempt at masculine virility
like the hair style she got from Ellen…
that’s the only color that’s out of place

.iP

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the feeling of obligation
rare for such a slacker as myself
precious
even when pathetic

some guy
whatever
some guy who wants me to drain him
gives me direction
asks me to come over
to Jersey City

I live here
and the longer I live here
the more it seeps into me
everything that’s supposed to be
the beliefs we can all agree on

scared of the black man?
the African man
the Orishas
how did they become scary?
(again)

Jersey
second rate
trash
body storage units
America

I often joke about
(jokes are only funny when they’re true)
I live in manhattan
because it’s an island off the coast of America
a river separates me from Anywhere, USA

the wind blowing through the PATH tunnels made me feel strange
and waiting forever for those trains
traveling to distant lands

coming up on wide empty city streets
too wide
too empty
no life, no character

crossing over
through the mall
as he suggested
odd
to be in an American mall
at night
empty
Anywhere shops all shut tight
not a person to be seen

lots of signs for restrooms on the third floor
so I took the slow elevator up
though the toilets were empty
there were Caution: Wet Floor signs
and empty mop buckets in the middle of the floor

and signs everywhere: "Circle of Respect: if you see something suspicious text ______ to…"
"crime watchers" for cock suckers

America

I took the escalators down
kept snaking through the horrible empty building
why do they leave these open?
and no one breaks shit?
amazing.

I escaped through an emergency exit in the parking garage
and ambled down Eighth as it started to rain

small parks
niceish buildings
vinyl siding
a crotch that smells of piss
and even if he’s from a royal family
why is he living in Jersey?
font have to try so hard
it’s Almost As Good

I wasn’t going to sleep there
I set out to walk through the streets
looking much more New Englandish than New York does
down diagonal Newark street
glad I was out so late anyway
to see the clouds calm down
release their grip on the moon
let her shine
shine on me
in this old city

I talked with Leo
ailing friend
too exhausted to…

and waiting for an hour at the mouth of the tunnel
the wind blowing by me
had to go to Hoboken anyway
and there got on three men
two very drunk looking irish men
old and haggard
sweet
smiling and laughing
sitting across from eachother
some distance

waiting there
the last man got on
also drunk
probably Dominican
he talked at me
I was watching Heroes
the Irish eyes smiled at me
I could not help but glance up
one too many times
and the Dominican caught my eye
got up
came over to me
I took off my headphones
he told me he loved me
son of god
Jesus
loves us
he took my hands
he kissed them
he hugged me
he kissed my face
sat next to me
held me
pulled my head, gently
to his lap
stroked my hair
told me I was loved

I asked him where he was going
like "Washington heights?"
he answered "home to my wife"
and the door opened on Christopher street

I hesitated
but felt if had enough
almost my fantasy of all strangers loving eachother
cuddling with unknowns on the train
letting this go on any longer would ruin it for sure
so I dashed out of the train
through that windy tunnel
walking down the empty streets
at 3am
not too empty
feeling more like I was in the right place
almost getting what I want
I’m suspicious of something so close
he was just drunk
the wind is just wind
I’m back where I belong
and when I got off the 1 train in my neighborhood
the moon was bright upon me
4am
the sky was clear
I stood on the corner and watched for a while
bathing
then walking up the hill home
it was easy to sleep that night
having sufficiently exhausted myself…

.iP

”
this instrument
like this world
was not perfect when I got here
my mistake
to believe it can be perfect
in the way I think it should be
you agree
like that
it could be perfect

but it never was
and with what I have
I cannot make it so
not now
not on my own

but i have made it better
which is what I can do
part of what I want
so I must be contented with that
for now
”

that’s all I can talk about
the rest I learned
the teaching
was unwordable
something about moving too fast
which is all out grounding
which has to do with insecurity
fear of father
teachers
relating in family
community
with women
mother? sister?

“the way it’s all gonna be”

.iP

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Saturn is sitting on top of Venus
Mars is sitting next to her
Mercury in on his way to run into this mess
and the moon is almost dead

can I stop this anxiety?

I’m not responsible for anyone else’s life
I can’t be
but I can be for my own
right?

Saturn is a big dark bully
but Fuck You Dad
no, Fuck YOU Dad
I’m tired of not living my dreams

I mean
I know
I have
you have
they have

are we all tired?
what about you?
seems all the men I’ve loved stop short
we’re paralyzed
shaking like leaves on the surface of the river
sweeping under
mingling with decay

my body is melting
mixed in with syrup
corn
cream
gummi bears
my arms are goop
and I can’t seem to make my finger do much
I want to sing
but mostly grunt

I’m a fucking God
how’d I turn into such a troll

weight
when does the wind blow?
33 weeks before death and eternal life
again again

October 13th
how do I grow backwards
to move forward?
or trace back my steps
out of this cul-de-sac
the edge of the cliff
I always said i jumped off in desperation
and learned how to fly
but I didn’t
I just fell asleep there
on the ground
I’m still there
sleeping
dreaming
"I am the most free man there ever was, I never stopped escaping"

I stood on the edge
and let the wind blow through me
scattered my leaves to the wind
wild topiary
branches
or less..

I keep talking about the economics of live
to myself
this
all
disjointed
declarations
like hidden poems
blocking communication

hungry for sugar!

I can’t be concerned for them right now
not now
them not living their dreams
is their deal
me
I gotta
I gotta try and fail
I gotta try and fly

I gotta

what else would I do?

.iP