PLEASE HELP BLUE PRESS STAY AFLOAT

Sunday, May 5, 2019

Walking Tiptoe Thru the Ruins of Western Civilization (w/Headphones On)

The rolling dark rocking
deep green turquoise steel
& corrugated foam

which from here resembles the warped
pages of a water-damaged book
the inscription illegible
a map of veins that have burst within
a bouquet of suicide morning glories

but taking it an octave higher than
any dog-eared hymnal would ever recommend

like a black pajama death wish
on the slow train to the Hollywood Laundromat

Wednesday, May 1, 2019

Buried in Whispers

These streets belong to another place, another time, set on fire in the yellow tree as the story goes. One step in any direction & you're somewhere else entirely. The deciduous architecture is noted for windows that catch the light & toss it back, as well as for the lack of doorways. The sidewalks & alleyways are always dark, even at high noon on the longest day of summer. Foot traffic is sparse, passersby are mere shadows. I wouldn't even know that you were walking beside me now if not for your ritual string of pearls which seem to glow w/a pulse of muted neon, like the bioluminescence generated by creatures that live in the deepest, most remote parts of the sea.

Thursday, April 4, 2019

Stalling for Depth

It is Palm Sunday, a Tuesday, in September
& you're in La Jolla
a suburb of St. Paul, the Assassin

The fortune palms murmur
Sappho whispering to Homer
what being means
as an unspecified amount of rain falls
deflected by the windshield's aura of confidence

The sky sort of breathing
a jungle of details
eucalyptic

couldn't tell if I was feeling exalted or exhausted
the giant agave over-run w/second & third thoughts

dancing in parentheses

Septremble, Octember. Nowonder

A single word read sideways could be your
ticket to "The Poems"

Satin & lace
Seaweed & foam

No one ever said it would be easy but it was
lessons I've learned at last forgotten
where in other sentences if Truth is Beauty
it is again but who will be there when the bell rings?

I don't know I'm asking

As I made my slightly unsteady morning rounds I found a delicate, perfect spider web shimmering in the sunlight, so fine, precise, like a transparent LP, like the diaphanous ghost of an LP, suspended in the air above the mint & ragweed

Chet Baker's solo on "Summertime"

(Yeah, fuck the liner notes, Jimmy)

Not to be otherwise
here where I am & you
are
an instant felt but endlessly in the mind
as it flutters

A million dollar show w/a million dollar cast
in the musical extravaganza of the century

& you'll be there like water beneath the sea
like a shadow in the shade
like a word
whispered into the wind

Monday, April 1, 2019

Where I Live it's Wall to Wall Ocean Thus to Drift is Character

Damp gray days strung out like pearls
but a bluer shade of gray
w/dual exhaust
driving a little pink tractor 
thru another brutal sunset

all tricked-out in
fever haze

I wouldn't know 
from where I part the drizzle but
if you run the numbers you could probably make it work

half past Topanga, Santa Barbara, & Papua
New Guinea

It's raining right now
I left my feet in my other shoes
& yr heart is like a parking lot
paved w/clouds

Saturday, March 9, 2019

Conflict Resolution Among the Mouth Breathers

She wanted to know the preliminary 
parts of whatever
empty rules of heaven
& though I was convinced it had
more to do w/coconut milk & tequila than
the Gnostic scriptures
I just couldn't see how she could
drive that truck all the way there & back
w/a leaky head gasket & no muffler
but like cutting forever in half
w/the sky behind smoked glass
& bongo windchimes knocking in the
late afternoon seabreeze
further is just about as far as you can go

Saturday, March 2, 2019

To the Gods of Medicine & Ding Repair

A flicker of wings maybe
to float the memory
she used to say it that way
on the Avenida
beneath a tropic sky
the same color as 40 links of chain
w/mudslide tremors & gaited horses
out where the coast road veers off into
Bohemian rhapsodies
& the wingless per diem
often mistaken for a synthesis of
ocean fog & Lee Marvin
that random apprehension where
sea meets sky in the pretense & the vapor
doesn't necessarily ring a bell
anywhere but here

Tuesday, February 12, 2019

A Twofer at the Five & Dime

Transparent reflections on the window glass
are reminders of the illusory nature of existence

A dusting of clouds in the beach sky

No one notices how the color changes but it does

Green, pink, orange & blue
which is strange for this time of year
when pearls & moths should be the prevailing hue

Other colors are playing mahjong & smoking Pall Malls

going to El Segundo, metaphorically 

Saturday, February 2, 2019

Pseudo Ensenada

Had me a sky gray Chevy once
w/a backstory that would've made
Coleridge weep

That was back when I used to listen to the 
waves crash in the margins of
The Book of Songs
returning my dreams to their default settings
always careful not to spook the horses

but no more than a tablespoon
as directed
& like Ali Baba bending over backwards
on Walking Crucifixion Day
I wore my hat execution style
because some things never change

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