PLEASE HELP BLUE PRESS STAY AFLOAT

Saturday, January 5, 2019

Winner Winner Chicken Dinner

After you take that step
& the next
                      I mean the one after the last
bridging the gap between
what you want & what you need

highlighted on the chemical map
along w/me & you & Blind Willie McTell

I saw the reflection & heard the echo

TV babies tapping out Morse code jazz
content w/the legend of parachutes & spiritual abuse
so as to hypnotize the walking wounded

It's 10 minutes to sunset
the burnt pink & turquoise sky is
turning somersaults
& you're easily dazzled

Tuesday, January 1, 2019

The Name of the Rose

The wind backs down the tide
picks up & we're no different

Time spins to the ground
& yr eyes are sand formations
constantly shifting          changing color
though if the light catches them just right they
could be mirrors
suffused in restless ocean gray shadows rippling
in pale sunlight

The mockingbird sings the same song 
but in a higher register

& yr soul if it even exists
I couldn't say if any of us for certain but
something in the air anyway
besides this damp compression of tinsel mist
reaching down to rap its knuckles against the waves

or remember how someone else may have said it
& how easy it was to forget

Sunday, December 9, 2018

The Last Car That Parked Here is Still Missing

Everything is tumbling past
a steel guitar I had at first thought
looked like rain

The trial of true redemption slips a little
in the Chinese transliteration
                  skimming the silver
                           torched by blossoms

         a way to compensate for those
                  seasick mermaids on horseback

not to mention Thor Heyerdahl, Sister Aimee Semple,
& Miki's lush beehive?

Your brain seems to be on an extended vacation, a sea cruise, maybe a world tour, including every empty parking lot from the Forbidden City to Tierra del Fuego.  Factor in the long way around & you just might make it back by suppertime.

Saturday, December 1, 2018

What's Your Metaphor?

The wind sings Malaguena Salerosa in the cypress
like a ghost mule dragging The Cantos
70 foggy miles up the coast
                  which is Latin for "Take two aspirin
                           & call me in the morning"

A point of entry & return
minus the charm of a doubt casting its shadow upon
a working hypothesis all camera-ready like
neon scribbled into a spoonful of wet sand

but dependent upon a parallel vocabulary
& the shuffle of glass cards on the horizon
swamped out as the tide pushes in
                  tilting parking lots
                           down towards the sea

Sunbleached chrome & I told you so
wearing rose-colored goggle & a heat rash
alternate routes to the same conclusion
because it's not always merely what was said but
the shape of it that matters

Sunday, November 25, 2018

The Parking Lot Sutra

The shadow of your heart
wrapped in tinfoil
discovers a new use for gravity

just a little something to set alongside the
octopus in the bathysphere

What is it divided three ways?

Leaving no doubt as to the intent
(painted green)
& reaching for frequencies beyond the pale light
just to prove that I can & do
as often as you

Thursday, November 1, 2018

Drop C Tuning for Steam-Driven Guitar

The azure reticence of your
waterproof mascara
         knocking down the
                  auguries of innocence
                           in rusty tidepool sessions
plus a flicker of wings maybe
                  a synthesis of custom chrome
                                    & bad timing

The light doesn't lift
                  anymore than the dark
                  falls
                           & if I had a hacksaw
I'd play you a tune
         retreating to the pulmonary root
that rattles within a sigh
         every time you
                           shake your hips

Friday, October 19, 2018

Chapter & Verse

for Pamela

In an empty beach parking lot
                     it was either midnight or high noon
                                      shimmering in the haze that
          filled my sunglasses
                                                 & broke the sky
like a 2nd floor window
                                      w/an ocean view
I figured that when it hit the ground it
                     left puddles on the sidewalk
                               you'd have to swim to cross
& the riptide would drag you all the way to
Shanghai
                     a city full of windows
                              & sinister acoustic distractions
like the time I read a street map of Oaxaca
in the eyes of the tamale lady
         w/cormorants slicing the sea mist into quatrains
                              on the shadow side of the jetty
trading the eternal luau for the
                     warning label I never read
because you're the one who hesitates a moment
(to be sure)
        & I am 180 degrees of nothing-comes-easy
                     leaning into the wind

Saturday, October 13, 2018

Continuously Variable Transmission

Stars over Monterey Bay

the moon in a black limousine

& I'm not sure but the light could be
         sharpening itself on the edge of
                  1001 dark nights of the soul

                                     & now it's me
standing face to face
                  w/someone that looks like
the you
                  I never knew
                           gazing into my eyes
w/the same blank stare that
                  launched a thousand ships

Monday, October 1, 2018

The Burden of Proof

The clouds are breaking apart
the sun slips through
the floor needs sweeping

Identity plus a teaspoonful of consciousness?

The real mumbo jumbo

I knew I must have been blessed
because I managed to step in every puddle
between here & Beach Street

Ask for what you want
blink & it's gone
who knows where it comes from desire