Monday, February 27, 2012

Saturday, February 25, 2012

Bryzgalov and the Merry band of Flyers

How bad does a team gotta
be to make you write a poem about them?
as bad as the Flyers are playing right now
is enough, and fans scream kill Bryzy! Trade
Bryzy! The team doesn't trust him! But,
you ever play hockey before? and you
realize the goalie has to trust a team,
I wouldn't they don't back check,
they give up space, get taken in the d zone,
they're terrible and it was building slowly, idiots
just don't see it, can't see it now, yeah sure
he could make some saves, but when
he doesn't know where they're coming
from or how, it's not that easy, just like
it isn't being the gum Laviolette chews while
he can't figure out what the hell is going on out
there on the ice

Thursday, February 23, 2012

Round 3

Finished edits today,
baked chicken with potatoes
on 400 degrees and the whole
place smelled like rosemary, it's
70 outside and sunny, tomorrow
I'll be in the archives reading
Revolutionary War pension files,
it'll be raining like it always does,
I'm in DC again, scrawling in red and green
ink, I've got all these sketches tucked
away in my journal, part of me wants to
post them here, but I can't bring myself--
I watch the cleaning crew outside my window
5 stories below...they're speaking Spanish
and I don't get it, I don't get

Thursday, February 16, 2012

All I'm able to do now is Dream

I find out that my mom was outside
with Stonewall (my cat) & someone pushed a tree
on him, I cannot figure out where, why,
that could be, it's right outside on the front
lawn, Everyone is sad, mourning
my mom doesn't believe he could have made it,
survived, the tree is sunken down into it's
stump, fallen over & we go about lifting it,
it's light, underneath is a deep hole lined with
metal, like the entrance to a shuttle, steel ribs
flashing lights & I drop down to find him,
there is a bunch of strange
animals walking around, sliding around a
circular tunnel, I realize
Stonewall must have been placed inside
this brown turtle that appears to be just like
a miniature wooden figure that my sister has,
I can't pick him up
but push him toward the door,
the tunnel starts to shrink & the other
creatures begin to close in on us
I manage to push him against the door
but it closes trapping us, the turtle grabs the
handle tho & pushes open the door, I
push him out, then pick him up and rush
to the top of the tunnel outside,
I wake up, toss, remember the details
fall back to sleep
I run toward the house
& everyone is with me, I push the turtles head in & it opens,
or becomes something, spits out something, I open that &
some sort of gas mask/airplane oxygen mask is
inside, I'm confused & run back, my relatives are
peering down into the tunnel, I tell everyone Mike & me
are going back down to get him, there is
fear growing, I feel it like the air becomes
clogged in the dream, I believe he's down there okay
So we drop down again and there is a kind
of society where everyone looks like a fire fighter,
or policeman, I run frantically at first, watching the
eyes on us, there's chaos, suddenly the ceiling
is 50 feet above us, I realize
what is going on & stop, I begin to yell,
it's dawning on me, "Reptilians! Reptilians! I know
what this is! I know!" No one is listening but one
who turns sick lizard hateful eyes on us, he is dressed
like a cop, Ray Liotta, I yell louder & he uses
a psychic blast to silence
the crowd, walking like the body snatched in trolley lines.
I challenge their champion to a duel
in return for Stonewall, who I believe has now been
kidnapped, Mike agrees, the first man that listened
forces a crate 40 feet above us to
fall but I move out of the way & it falls harmlessly
crashing, he shatters glass and holds it in the air,
"You are blind," he says & fires the shards at me, I
close my eyes (watching this outside myself) & it harmlessly
passes, "I can close my eyes," I tell him, he is
angry, We walk on, "I want your champion,"
I tell him, he controls two high heeled shoes but
I grab them and hook them onto his clothes
that are now torn in two long slashes & he pulls himself
to the ground, growling, howling hissing lizard, I've
become impatient & the underground world is shrinking,
"I just want my cat," I scream, "You can keep ruling
the world, I don't give a shit, we couldn't rule ourselves
anyway, just give me back my fucking cat!"
My opponent casts cold green irises and struggles with the shoes.

Monday, February 6, 2012

I dreamed dreamed dreams ago

Just came out of a 4-5 layer dream
partially terrified, laid on bed on my
stomach watching transparent beings crawl
along the wall in the dark with window light
illuminating, was really on my stomach with
no light. This was not the start but the end
of dream.
Was watching Phillies 2 on 2 out
was on field but field in house some long
winding tortuous house thing, couldn't run
& was caught, stabbed at him--
woke up & bed deflates I roll
over on my side rooms like 1780. cool
Joe comes in and says I should use a couch
I think it simultaneously--
I wake, Tif rushes in moving furniture
that shouldn't be there, Joe says "She's
really into moving shit," I tell her it's okay
rolling my mattress, it's still deflating, it's
pitch dark night tho with blazing colors--
I wake up--sun spilling in like
it did at Nana's and Pop's, it's beautiful
out, I feel safe but something is not right, I finally
made it home, get up, rooms seems strange/different a
at this height, now that I'm standing, goes off in four
long directions, I wonder where Joe
is, I walk through the house
reach a bedroom & man, pale white, turns
his head toward me,
I hold my breath/ realize I'm still
deep in dream--
I wake up outside on train/bus--the
sensation of coming to--taken accidentally to
wrong house, I'm confused, I get up slowly
--same scene--roll around, walk downstairs as people enter
room downstairs--I hear them--see animals in cages, notice
lizards standing on each others backs, old
lady at desk & packed in I walk out through
doors & it's like I'm on tracks carried
toward big animals, lizards, they screech, I put hand over eyes--
wake up at start of poem, inhale
hear Joe or something in the hall, in his room,
I reach for a pen to write this all
down before it's gone--
it's gone long, Joe coughs
I hope I'm here to stay,
I fall asleep--

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Post Title (Road Pome)

There's paint slapped onto
my sky, thick like an impression
on my aching--scratch ink into
leather bound sketch journal
one long poem out of love, want to
take road poem and turn that into
novella that's effortlessly sad but beautiful and bring
back those days roaring through
Ohio, Indiana, Illinois--breakfast,
sausage gravy--bat factory--beer--
Dave and Joe up front and me studying maps
in the back, shouting directions--no GPS
bullshit, horseshit--doing it ourselves,
it's been three months--three million years,
the crops are shriveled junk melted down
and shot into our arms, the city is torn down
about my knees--I've nothing left but
survival and words


Whit took his time cleaning himself
on my keyboard, focused on his left 
ear, his (there's something off about them)
orange eyes focused on a thing
I couldn't see, the light
from my window wasn't enough--
I was wrapped in a blanket and flannel and
plaid patterned pajama pants, I wanted to
continue my edits--Whit kept cleaning,
left leg scratching his face, tapping keys
underneath his feet--now he wants
in the closet, now he's out and mewing 
and mewing and meowing and rawling
and laying down and jumping and typing himself,
I rest my forehead on his and he snorts,
bites at the wires on my desk, I push him off
I bite his ear, his stomach puffs and he opens 
my door