PLEASE HELP BLUE PRESS STAY AFLOAT

Friday, September 12, 2014

To the Revolutionary Cadres of Big Sur, Morro Bay, and Oxnard Shores (or, Sometimes a Great Ocean)

A short drive up the coast
            & the long walk back
(we had to confirm that the break was surfstainable)
but only during voodoo business hours
            Shadows on the water between tides
                        a pale green translucence
"It is advisable to look from the tide pool to the stars
and then back to the tide pool again."
            (John Steinbeck, The Log from the Sea of Cortez)
Each day is a lesson
knocking back cans of Oly & smoking
            Kool 100s w/Tippy-Toe Soul
                        out on the loading dock
to keep your blue eyes black
& your idle hands busy
            tunneling to Shangri-la
w/the seabreeze whispering like a billion dollars
in counterfeit bills
spilling from the canopy palms

Saturday, September 6, 2014

Like So

“The creative person should have
no other biography than his works.”
                                        –B. Traven

My dirty eyes dusted w/sunlight
            hovering between transpacific jet lag
                        & the last recording of the Memphis Jug Band

I used to think “One day I’ll just disappear in Mexico”
until I did (as, but not like, Ambrose Bierce)
Now everything is different
The wind shufffing thru las palmas will never be the same

Something about karma & liberation
which could be better expressed by
her damp panties pulled to one side, for example

The sky is wearing a shiny blue suit in the green room
as seagulls pause in mid-air
above the waves
& all the luminous details
            like familiar faces you just can’t quite place

& never will

Monday, September 1, 2014

Probable Cause

The headline read:
More Buddhist-Catholic Voodoo, or
I Must Have Done Somebody Wrong
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
No Contest
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
            I plead guilty to
            transgressions
            both real & imagined
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
                    “My how time flies!”
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
seems like
forever

Sunday, August 24, 2014

A Crash Course in Circular Breathing

Melodic birdnotes & bedsprings
providing all the commentary required
& the doll-like way she
            sleeps in my dreams

her heart playing electric bongos you
            hold to your ear like a seashell
                        because this time you’re really listening

but then something she said
            made me feel as though I was
peering through the stained glass windows
            of a Coupe de Ville
                        parked on the bottom of the sea…

& now it’s later & I’m treading water

a shadow among the tangled seaweed swaying

& I don’t know where we’re going but 
we’ll be there any minute now

Monday, August 18, 2014

Uncut & Commercial Free

Guilt by Association
He said she said
& it all went to hell from there

Famous Last Words
“I’m sure you’re an excellent accordion player”

Show Me the Way to Go Home
1. Falling leaves & needles.
2. My voodoo doll piñata. 
3. Floating out to sea.

Friday, August 8, 2014

Auto Focus

Shrouded in a drizzle of mist
the ocean (reclining) insists

                                    SUMMERTIME BLUES
                                    (ain’t no cure, etc)
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 
Boiling ocean poppies
on the black & blonde sand

                   Your errant passion, my autographed copy
                   of the sky over El Segundo

             ~ a light seduction ~

                                         I could swim thru all that you spill
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 
pitching a fit
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 
                                                           “Everything is water
                                                            if you look long enough”
                                                            (Robert Creeley)

Friday, August 1, 2014

A Man’s Got to Know His Permutations

The sky is whispering (green) & softly
dusted w/silver haze…
& so the message gets thru     encrypted     like her shoulders
which are bare white miracles darkened by the sun

            & riding the High-Stakes Bodhisattva Blue Cloud Express
            thru all that rippling concrete and asphalt
                        human forms, bird shapes, & fish shadows in
                        extraterrestial bonsai gardens planted in tide pools

                                                rocks strewn along the shore

                                                                        plus two & a half starfish…

Pelican surfing a thermal, stalls, turns, & drops (splash)
a mid-morning snack.

                        No waves. The ocean is asleep. Playing possum.

                       “I couldn’t find my sunglasses
                       & then I did.”

                                 “They were right there where the invisible
                                 skeleton hand left them.”

& so the next day…

endless failing, falling, fading                   walk around outside
in the sun under clouds      cactus, orchid, anemone     sunset/shadow
turquoise & silver (a “get-rich-quick scheme”
                               wrong from the get-go, burned in effigy, prayed to,
                               disemboweled on a stone
                               altar decorated with human teeth, pornographic
                               pictures & votive candles anxiously flickering
                               in little red glass jars
                               strumming the ribs of clouds

Lo que está en mi corazón

                     & Muddy Waters singing “Big Leg Women”
                     just to keep it honest

Polished bronze sky a dark mirror tilting into the sea

Okay, I guess, if taken in the proper dosage

(the proper dosage is always 5 times more than that which is recommended)

Saturday, July 19, 2014

Picking up the pesos

Wondering what happened
to all of the money
you didn't spend on drugs...
_________________________

          PAGAN RITUALS (the nuns
          used to pass around a can
          collecting coins for the
          "pagan babies")
_________________________

Pitching pennies into the sand
          the shoreline drenched in pale sunlight...

Great cities will grow there over night

                     & just as soon will vanish

Friday, July 11, 2014

Eternal Combustion Engine

Haze of blue light turning white
right there on the foam ledge

flower of Michoacán

reminds me of how warm the pavement could be
at night in Ocean Park the summer of 1975

released on your own recognizance…

“Do you know at the offering of which libation
the waters become endowed with a human voice
and rise and speak?” (Brihadaranyaka Upanishad)

everything wet, trembling

waiting for you to make the next move