trails i traded for a tuesday

“eternity is a very long time – especially toward the end” woody allen

 

escaping an extinction event

i pay the rent

dream i actually went

down trails i traded for a tuesday

 

inside the whiskey

it use to be inside me

drunk people dancing

i race to the sea

forget how to swim

or how to perceive

i leave on a whim

return on a breeze

 

turning at the wiltern

i walk down wilshire

g.p.s. discerns

and asks if i’m sure

 

i shut everything off

including my mind

light up and cough

on a night so sublime

 

asian women walking

the way they walk with intent

with smiles i’m stalking

without making a dent

 

the invisible man

in the emperor’s new clothes

i want to hold hands

with somewhere to go

 

i’ve danced in the ether

of no reason why

laws of physics

isolate the sky

 

people seek purpose

for the patterns of pain

i can’t smooth the surface

with molecular rain

 

i’m just in los angeles

a solitary man

my mind is oscillating

without being a fan

 

people place answers

in effort to bring

the joy of a dancer

in the rites of spring

 

i cannot converse

with these thoughts i display

this shape shifting universe

just happened that way

 

and so i walk lonely

like that one visible star

as if it is only

cause these city lights mar

any view of the heavens

and all it contains

i turn left on the street seven

where all that remains

is me after midnight

longing for love

electricity and photons

erase lights from above

 

my poems will meander

as so will i

i speak without candor

searching faces and eyes

 

love may be selective

but it will do

i’m a detective

without any clues

 

this case has gone cold

decades have passed

the stars will unfold

and run out of gas

 

but i will investigate

this victimless crime

though i can’t help hesitate

and vomit these rhymes

 

i dream of a word

the ultimate nomenclature

beyond what i’ve heard

from lingering legislature

 

to explain all that is

and why i can’t find

her hand in his

without changing my mind

 

be who i am

and still be with her

without building a dam

contained and disturbed

 

and so i will roam

beneath the sheltering sky

make my way home

tomorrow night try

 

to find the right words

that write an embrace

whispers unheard

while my fingers trace

 

the tone of her skin

the meaning of life

put down my pen

and make her my wife

 

***

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the frayed fringes of my fabric

the break of day has come my way

the sun’s spotlight exposes my performance

on center stage

not only do i have the dialogue memorized

i wrote it

 

it’s a story about a man who cannot stand himself

so he seeks validation from others

“give me permission to live” i recite

the audience shakes their collective heads

and whisper, “what a terrible actor”

 

i convince everyone i’m a made up character

“i’m really a badass motherfucker who doesn’t

give a shit what anyone thinks”

 

i analyze your blinks

think

“it can’t be love, can it?”

i expect violence, disdain

layers of emotional pain

i understand love by my

longing to be loved

but that is my limit

i can’t believe i am someone

someone could love

but i can’t accept the liabilities

of my limitations

 

i’ve tried therapy

(change me)

i’ve been prescribed pills

(change me)

help me accept me

or was it

help me become something acceptable

 

twenty-five years ago i wrote

“i dance the tao of the swan

caught in a fisherman’s net”

 

but my valuation reserve

is charged against the future

i feel i deserve

and flinch at the tenderness of your touch

 

me and love are always going dutch

i quickly discover your concerns and care

pretend i share

because i am that desperate for approval

 

yet when i am thirsty

i don’t feel i even deserve

stagnant water in dirty gutters

 

it is my place to change

the semen stained sheets

that someone else has soiled

with their love

 

going from room to room

smelling the afterbirth of perfume

honoring the do not disturb signs

i am not yet needed or useful

 

wondering amid my lust

who has the greater level of disgust

you for me

or me for myself

 

and how can we turn this

into a relationship

 

chains and whips?

or just an acknowledgement

that if i yield my clay to your rough hands

you will try and mold me into a likeness

of something you can actually stand

 

***

 

even though it’s all just molecules

(“What did the existentialist say to the evolutionist?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“Oh, you’ve heard this one before?”)

 

sometimes the sunshine and its midmorning warmth

generates an embrace like wine that we import

i cannot catch the molecules in my photonic hand

but still i see the light on me and subtle on the sand

 

a warm embrace that i can trace with senses i possess

a sun inclined to always shine and smile a caress

a winter day is beautiful if that’s what we perceive

but in this light i feel the spite of one who’s been deceived

 

the borderlines that we design to separate us all

cannot exclude the beatitude that’s shining on this ball

and so i dance within the glance that leads to a sweet kiss

the sun is shining on me and there’s nothing that i miss

 

a mother earth or father sun i do not know such things

i only know this moment’s sun and all the warmth it brings

i know that photons are the name within the science books

it steals from romance all its game just like a common crook

and so i languish while i lather sun upon my skin

the light through trees i will perceive as warmth worn within

 

***

 

 

as always

out here alone

no phone

still walking the streets

can’t remember

the last time i had a drink

these days i just get high

sometimes very

like this moment right now

 

l.a. was hot today

the night is pleasant

and noisy

head lights

neon signs

and the requisite homeless person

screaming at the perceived

 

my chest hurts from smoking

too many cigarettes tonight

 

and i’m just bored

at home i have five novels

and a volume of poetry

i am reading and when

i’m not asleep i stare at

the emptiness between the walls

 

when you believe like i do

there’s not a whole lot of people who

want to hang out with you

 

my literary heroes are people

i’m sure i would personally despise

 

artists are not wise

we’re just self-centered enough

to think self-expression

is an achievement

 

i turn another corner and

escape the santa ana winds

i light a smoke

and stand here

watching the world wrestle

with the wind

 

a few days ago

i read my most recent poem

to some people

some of them cried

one even said that they

stopped writing when

they started reading mine

because they felt they could never

write as well as me

 

this was a young person

so i read to the group

the first poem i wrote

way back when i was 17

 

another listener said

that they hoped i didn’t

use that as an example

of a bad poem

because it was really good

 

it made me feel good

all these words i wile

away the hours with

have not been a

complete waste of time

 

at my age i don’t

think of what’s ahead

but what i leave behind

 

i went to get a cigarette

and saw i have a lit

one in my hand

time to start walking again

let my thoughts know

who is in command

 

just passed a bar

bouncers breaking up a fight

not tonight

last time i was at a bar

was halloween

i was designated driver

i kept going outside to smoke

i was sober but i had

a really good time

 

and that’s the rhyme

that never goes out of season

 

words are my reason

but i just can’t write

another goddamn novel

 

i keep starting them

but they never match

the way i feel when

i write these poems

 

but they only come out

after a full gestation period

 

so i don’t write everyday

in-between i feel lost

as i said

words are my reason

 

everything else is treason

and me trying to be

something i’m not

 

i’ll be a whore

if you provide the cot

 

inside a liquor store

i buy another pack of smokes

and a gatorade

get lost in the song

on the radio

 

the clerk rolls his old eyes

when he realizes i am high

 

i nod goodbye

retake the sidewalks

and remember why i love

walking l.a. at night

 

it’s a feeling of freedom

i can’t adequately express

everything is happening everywhere

and i couldn’t be any more invisible

 

looking around

and then going in a direction

freedom at the intersection

i’m not going anywhere in

particular

there’s no rush

no expectation

just the moment i am in

 

memories make cuts

that turn into

permanent scars

and if you could make

your own future

why would you have chosen

this present

 

the moment is my address

where molecules on their

merry-go-rounds do

nothing but obey the laws of physics

 

ah, l.a.

there’s actually a recycling bin

for my empty gatorade bottle

i have to force it in

crushing an empty can of full throttle

 

i go inside a mini-mart

buy a butterfinger

midnight munchies

 

i thought it was earlier than that

 

it will take a few hours

to get home once i figure out

where i am

so i better get started

nothing counteracts

the night’s spell

like a sunrise

 

***