PLEASE HELP BLUE PRESS STAY AFLOAT

Friday, September 26, 2014

Antisocial Networking

Ain't got the do-re-mi
Dry leaves rattle like
empty beer cans

Variations on a Meme
Uniforms in an unmarked car

Sign Language
Giant ropes of seaweed
tied around tree trunks
& a riddle of stones
carefully laid out in a pattern
on the sand

The Getaway
Falling past the lark & seagull sky
            (painted in colors I
                        couldn't begin to describe)
all the streets here
            slope down to the sea

Friday, September 19, 2014

Light & Proportion

The 3-Second Rule
She said I was transparent but
it didn’t mean that she could see through me

Guess Again
Blue sky w/clouds
strategically placed
            like defining moments

                        Smells Like Coppertone
                        Your glory days never did quite pan out
the way you thought they would, matching quarters in the
vacant lot across from the taco wagon, or counting the grains
of sand that filled cracks in the beach pavement as the late
summer sun boiled Vietnamese kool-aid
on the hood of a yellow Corvette

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