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Another Foot Thing

I actually like you a lot
Sorry I keep you locked up so long

  but no barefoot bumpkin are we, right?
No, I have to keep you safe

  having been raised among sidewalks of glass,
  fields of glass,
  streets and gutters of glass
  and that nail I stepped on when we were 7 or 8
You see where we’re going with this…

So the shoes and socks are for your own good I promise
I also apologize for that nail I stepped on
I suppose you see where all that time in shoes is paying off.

I don’t know how you do it; stay so beautiful
You’d think I’d take you out and admire you more
Again, sorry I keep you locked away so long,

  but when we’re inside, behind closed doors and alone
  I don’t mind taking you out
Out past the shoes first

  down to your socks

Often we’ll stop there if we’ve no place to go
Then sometimes we’ll go around like this for days;

  gliding silently along on just a thin layer of fabric
  sometimes threadbare
Yes, sorry about that, you do deserve the best dress,

  yet sometimes I leave you clad in as much hole as covering
I assure you it’s so I can save up for better, though

  better socks for you,
  more comfort and concentration for me later

But when I do get to uncovering you – oh
First allow me to congratulate you on your shape

  despite numerous broken toes and a couple of cuts
    – and that nail
Even with that broken mid-bone

  you have retained the shapeliness of your teenaged self.

And the cleanliness – that has paid off
I so seldom obsess over odors

  and even less reference things by their proximal sensory compatibility to a rose,
  but you are, with few exceptions, the best smelling feet I’ve encountered
Well yes, that with no scent, but that’s the goal with feet

So all in all I’m pleased that we have each other in our lives

I would bow at your feet in homage

  except that the dimensions necessary for that to happen
  have not been invented
So how easy it is for me to overlook the supposed imperfection

  that is your giraffe-print pigment pattern
Nay, I find it just the right amount of uniqueness to seal my love of you

Never make me choose between you



October 25, 2016

Progressions and Diverging Points

They move here
I don’t care the reasons, it matters little
It is the order of things in this country
They bring renewal
Those who oppose them enjoy the gathering of stale air about themselves
They move into apartments, some swanky some slums
They get jobs though connections
In cities they network through their ethnicity
Some are pretty or handsome, or they aren’t
They move up in their jobs, or they don’t
They move on to single family homes, or they don’t
They find love and companionship and forge families, or they don’t
I feel sorry for the ones who don’t
Their bosses didn’t promise them top positions
No one teaches the hustle and the drive and the will
No one even promises love, except the lovers
Wait and see if it works, or they don’t

I moved there
Not such a big leap, except of faith
I thought I was following the order of things
You promised love, you were a lover
That was like a renewal of each of our spirits
Few opposed save those stinking of jealousy
We moved into slum, happy to store our hearts in each other’s swank
You were my connection to a job, I slid into the network
Together, we were our own ethnicity
We found each other’s best looking parts
You made job advances through my labors
You looked into improving junk into homes, dreaming of my lucridity
But you denied me opportunities, said success lay in your path
You turned my companionship into a singularity and decorated with hidden rage
You isolated yourself from your family
I ignored, misinterpreted signs
You isolated me from family, my own history
You forced family upon me, but froze my interaction
You got defiant when I feel abused, or you didn’t
Your own children wore the clothes of neglect, or didn’t
You treated my children with kindness, or you didn’t
You avoided grocery shopping, or you didn’t
You kept leaving the house with the wrong list, or you didn’t
Maladaptive coping strategies
You keep every loving promise you made, or you didn’t
You took responsibility for your actions and improved, or you didn’t
I waited to see if you could at least devise a plan for love to survive
And you didn’t.

I moved to the homeland
Even that became a leap of faith
I moved into swanky accommodations, or slum
Divorce is the order of things in this country
I seek renewal, but practice habits.
I worked a year and half to mend my children
Their American dreams still take nights off
In their bad nights you come to take their dad away
I practice strategies that work, or they don’t
But we keep things fresh, like ocean air
My children and I are the base unit – without fail
We are beautiful to each other – without fail
We are kind to each other – without fail
We keep promises to each other – without fail
I refuse to let one kind of love supplant the promised – without fail
I flail about at finding companionship – without fail
I became sickly and worn out like age, I cook and eat better
I fought bronchitis, hypoxia and syncope, and smoking – without fail
I gained depression weight, I joined a gym
I distract easily like PTSD, I forge ahead
I form networks and friendships, advancement comes slowly
I write poetry to convince myself that I can do it, that I will make it
Or I don’t
I will survive you
Or I won’t.


May 2016

Dammit DD

To Venue Voices director DD Delaney...

Dammit Delaney!
O! the humanity
You made me poem insanity
I was never going to commit a poem to that man
Won’t say his name, it’d be like playing into his hand
But when I went to write about the debates,
He was all that slipped out of my pen.
Talk about him always stalks, always waits
Like vomit he kept slipping out.

Politics is so much more
Defined beyond our boundaries
Defined beyond our times
Subject of even the oldest rhymes
Politics is as old as the moment someone had to decide
how best to divide
~~ the kill among members of the tribe
But this un-politician has dominated the discussion
And as unqualified and ridiculous as he seems
~~ and how he speaks irregardless of repercussions
It seems his one real talent is occupying the talk
So no matter how much we balk
We keep giving him what he wants
~~ which is publicity
Because in his business,
~~ which is just big business,
They say there is no negative publicity

Pundits try to guess whether
~~ he lost votes when he said this
~~ or lost votes when he was supported by that
But has anyone asked if he’s lost one customer, gambler or guest
At his hotels and casinos that he touts as the best
I’ll bet he’s doing just fine at the end of the day,
~~ the wealthy were his best customers anyway
So this is all just a name-building ad
We’re going to find out we’ve all just been had


October 14, 2016

Commitments

That guy had kids
They are commitments
~ Their ears – their mother’s ears
~ Ring with the words of his
~ commitments
~~ to always feed
~~ always clothe
~~ always protect
~~ always just be there
But a world so caught up with commitments
Could cut him off mid-sentence
~ mid-promise
~ in the middle of digging himself in deeper
~~ willingly
Yes, the world of other kinds of commitments
~ can cut him out of their need for fulfillment
Can cut him down perceiving him having little transgressions
In the name of securing security for family

And though his commitments mean the world to them
Geese and bluebirds return each spring
This is a commitment that means little to them
The summer shall return after winter’s dark
This is a commitment that means little to them
The earth shall complete this circuit around the sun
This is a commitment that means little to them

So when someone superimposes their commitment to enforce
~ To always secure
~ To always protect
~ To ensure public safety
~ To always uphold … something
Though that is a commitment that means little to them
Except that it made them lay the man down
Such that he won’t get up and walk around
~ or fulfill
Such that it’s time for slow song singing
~ and flower bringing

This is what a mistake in enforcement means
This is when enforcement mistakes itself for
~ judiciary
~ or executioner
And it can only be avoided by understanding commitments
It can only be avoided by aligning outstanding commitments

Before a detective contemplates the damage done
~ by selling off extra cigarettes
~ and considers the death penalty appropriate
Should he maybe review the procedures manual,
~ ask what is the actual penalty for street sales?
~ take a deep breath and count to ten?
~ or check his own commitments?



August 15, 2016

That Girl

You cut eyes at her and comdemn
You swear you'll never be That Girl
Her hair, her nails, her talk
Her talk of Him or against some other girl
Not on the team, but so on the team that she's the mascot
Lean across the table and swear you'll never be That Girl
Cut eyes one more time
Return to coffee

But then there's That Girl in the store
Looking at the skin tight dress
This dress will bring the right Him to me
Suspecting it might bring a bunch of other men to you
But that’s because of what you’ve got
Still you buy it, you know what to do to the wrong men

More and more seeming like they're all the wrong men
How can they all be so stupid
But then again look at the women they traipse about with:
That Girl
Keep it up with the dresses, though, and the shoes,
Do your nails, scratch them down the next back
Thinking this Him until the shine wears off
Or damn him for being a false Him
Go your way, how dare you?!
Use a catty phrase. You, you're clever
“You belong on top of That Girl, not me.”

Confidant rolls her eyes in time with your re-tell
On board, but seldom past the coffee
Never there, not past nine
Curfew for a cheerleader
When the party's rolling along just fine
Still an hour before the arrival of That Girl
Then she comes and there it's over
Or they're all over there
Except the one guy; so called friend
Call him bitch in your head, undeserved
“Bitch, can't you see the dress, these shoes…”
You put on lipstick
Not out loud, but how dare he be nice

Confidant safely in other office
She knows the That Girl gals, follows intently
Escaped at the right time,
If That New Girl doesn't shut her mouth
At the corner cubicle, at the copier
With that lipstick and that hair
Return to coffee to say more, update today
Has her eyes on the supervisor, how dare she
That's your mark, what does she think she'll get there?
Stood up on is what
Make confidant lean across the table, raise hand
Swear she'll never be That Girl
You swear you'll leave that catty workhole
Move up or move out
Somewhere with no That Girl
Not at work, Not at the mall, Not at the party
Then you'll find Him
Things will be better in the next move
When you get out from under all the her, all the false him
You'll know the day you're on top
Just like you know the false Him
Just like you know That Girl when you see her


October 5, 2016

Western Kansas

Start an engine
Anywhere between Topeka and Limon
We’ll beat my insomnia within 12 minutes

Two consecutive towns with prairie museums
As if driving 200 miles from any direction wasn’t convincing
They must think there’s a point to prove

I tossed a banana peel out by a corn field
As crop dusters swooped by on three sides of me
To the stalks I had a point to prove

The gas tank on this car whistles as you fill it
The tone is identical to my tinnitus
Does it have a point to prove?

Thank God for XM
-- I have Lene Lovich, the Police, Julian Cope and Bauhaus in this place
I’ll bet no one’s ever played Lene Lovich in Western Kansas
So I turn it way up, roll down the windows
Like I have a point to prove

The entertainment keeps me awake and semi-alert
Although my body wants me to sleep
If I have an accident here there’s no cell phone for 200 miles
Little different from being a castaway
Shipwrecking over a point to prove

You could hide armies in plain sight in these plains
Tanks and barracks and planes
If secession or revolution were your bent
-- or if you had a point to prove

Nothing makes me drowsy like a good night’s rest the night before
Nothing makes me drowsy like having things to say and no signal
Nothing makes me drowsy like having to urinate and no rest area in sight
Nothing makes me drowsy like having things to say and no rest area to write
Nothing makes me drowsy like near-straight ribbons of stone pointing at near level horizons
Nothing makes me drowsy like smooth highways
Nothing makes my eyes water like grass allergies and rolling plains sitting fallow
Except maybe white lines converging miles ahead under bright skies
Nothing makes me drowsy like watery eyes that I can’t wipe
Least I swerve off the road with no cellular service
Like a shipwreck with a point to prove

Were I king of this place I would test my A-bombs in fields to the left
And my hidden army would occupy fields to the right
Were I king of this place I’d plant 300 high-power monopoles
All along this 30 foot by 400 mile median
All that because I have a point to prove

The sky went from blue to gray while I sat writing this
Nothing makes me drowsy like gray skies
But I’ve heard of the sudden storms in this place
They come on strong because they have a point to prove

So I’m moving on



September 6, 2016

My Presidential Campaign Speech

Were I president
I would simply do the job
Simply, like haiku


October 14, 2016

A Foot Thing

This came up from an lonlkine conversation where a fetishist online tried again and again to get me to drive alllll the way to Ohio for the purposes of finding his wife at work to tickle her feet... uh huh, crazy right?  Well me and another online friernd then built this idea from the danger of the idea of going so far to meet someone over such a weird idea...Then we took it further still.

He tickled her feet ever on, though not attached anymore.
She had realized that her feet were not ticklish anymore.
Yea, she realized it right away that they were gone.
She regretted her non-ticklish state, but couldn't help it.
Especially now, but he tickles away to this very day.
They are still connected, somehow, through her once ticklish feet.
And he hands them around to his visiting friends on Saturdays.
Do his friends visit him Saturdays because of her feet?
Many feign indifference when he brings out those ol' props.
Yet there remains one whose pure heart always beats faster....
... For whom just sighting those feet was his life's fete?
He hopes against hope to catch a glimpse of them.
And when they appear he cannot help but draw near...
...for that stolen glance or (careful now!) a fleeting touch
Does the severed foot -- can it -- ever feel, move, love?



October 10, 2016

Debate 9-26-16

I’m surprised The right-hand-man even shows up
He has a history of not stepping up
            unless it suits his purposes
But this time his list of presupposes
            and the few things he actually proposes
Have revealed this thing;

We have one candidate who pretty consistently lies
            and the other who at least tries
            not only to tell the truth, but to make some sense
And I heard VP candidate, poor ol’ Mike Pence
            and the campaign manager who both try
            to twist reasoning out of every lie
No wonder they call it spin
Because wherever you work on the campaign
            You’ll be dizzy, you just can’t win.

But what’s more bewildering still
                 is how the liar’s followers still don’t have their fill.
Most of them know by now that their man is a liar
            his only good promise is that we’ll all die in fire
What would it say if we choose a leader who can only mislead?
Either they idolize him since he’s known for his greed
            or they respond to some internal need
However, this is like satisfying masochism or
            being kept ignorantly blithe
            in either event that’s best hidden within your personal life
Not running the big show.



September 27, 2016

Lethal Combinations With the Human Element

OK, guns don’t kill people
But people who kill people often use guns
In combination, like a team

Stupid doesn’t kill people
Issues don’t kill people
But stupid people kill people over issues
In combination, like a team

Too smart gets people killed
Plotters get people killed
Lose cannon cops kill people
Poor decisions kill people

Sports Teams don’t kill people
Rabid fans kill people over sports
In combination, like a team

God doesn’t kill people
Religious differences don’t kill people
Crusades kill people and that’s,
The religious acting in the name of God
In combination, like a team

Food doesn’t kill people
Money doesn’t kill people
But mega food corporations kill people with food to maximize profit
In combination like a team

Love doesn’t kill people
Lovers might
With love or because of love lovers might kill people
In combination, like a team

We have known for some time that some things kill people
Some substances are poisons by themselves
Some things should, however, never be on the same shelves
Harmless things find their danger amplified
When the wrong others get a look at what’s inside
That applies to humans; consider
hate, bigotry, ignorance, pain and pride
They seem harmless If you don’t know they hide
Until something else draws them from the outside
Then in combination, like a team…



September 8, 2016

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