After a drunken night, the fog starts to clear . . .
What the fuck?
Where’d that mountain come from?
Another View of Mt. Fuji
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Category Archives: doggerel
Memento Mori
Old man sung up a crow, imbued
him with all kinds of mess,
a million ways of saying Yes
to anything that’s crude
He was divisive, he could slice
an ordinary stone into a knife
as if what cut might somehow be alive
and thrive on strife
Some said he’d killed the lark
Stone dead, that’s what they said
(though others would insist instead
her own song broke her heart)
And she – she was a battle, never right
so when she opened up the door, blew out the light,
who knows which one had won or lost the fight?
— Then it was night.
The True Poets
The true poets, seeing the world in a grain of sand, do not ask Why then so many grains of sand?
The true poets lie once then spend the rest of their lives shoring up the lie.
The true poets hum along with themselves, visiting in drafty castles, hunched over stone tables all night while the wind whistles through faulty windows, thinking themselves so very clever.
The true poets, despairing of meaning, wrestle with sentences; despairing of words, contend with syllables and are overcome.
The true poets do not agree with sharks and worms, they think the world is too much with us, they lie in bed at night fully clothed but never sleepwalk, they sleep deeply instead, fail to howl at the moon, and wake with rumpled shirts, fully rested.
The true poets spout the future’s clichés and die never knowing their true worth, never knowing it even after they have been dead a hundred years.
The true poets plot getting from here to anyplace but jump ship en route from Mexico without waiting for landfall, vanish into the dark swollen sea that undergirds the world and live forever.
The true poets, good for nothing, win the Nobel Prize in their dreams, wake to scrambled eggs toast and coffee, wishing for marmalade.
The true poets are patrons of failure put to the truth of others.
Alphabet, Schmalphabet – X, x
Xavier’s vexing X-ray eyes
Would certainly make him an excellent spy.
He’s a wizard at poker and hide-and-go-seek;
He can tell what a squirrel has stuffed in its cheek;
He can locate the needle in any haystack;
He knows what you’re hiding there, behind your back.
And he sees lots of things that he isn’t supposed…
But I’d better not say any more about those.
Reassurance
Oh do not mind me if I stare
My staring eyes are blind;
And too I prey on wicked folk
So you need pay no mind.
Persuasion
Please stay!
Cried the daisies
In their summer guise.
But the bee
Persuaded me
To do otherwise.
The Gargoyle Repudiates Religion
No mere cathedral is complete
for all it has a floor, walls, and a roof.
Behind me! — I would see
the world just as it is in truth.
I turn my ass toward faith,
toward teachings without proof.
Believe You Me
Always on time, is something I’m.
Always seemly, yes, extremely.
And polite? Oh, very, quite.
Don’t crack knuckles, won’t stamp feet.
My room, my handwriting, both are neat.
Never cry unless I’m hurt.
Never ask for more dessert.
Tie my shoes before I’m told.
Eat my food before it’s cold.
Respect old people ‘cause they’re old.
Ever lie? Oh, no – not I!
The Crow and the Cat
A crow don’t care
Who knows he’s there.
He caws all day.
Got lots to say:
What’s that?
Who goes?
See that!
Want those!
A crow’s a racket in a tree
For all the world to hear and see.
A cat won’t share
The fact she’s there.
She’ll be where she
Decides to be:
She lies
In wait;
Claws sharp,
Tail straight.
A cat’s a shadow in the grass
You’ll barely notice as you pass.
I saw the cat an hour ago
About the time I heard the crow.
And now I do not see the cat.
And now it’s quiet. Funny, that.
The Lost Sailors
All the sailors lost at sea
Are with the mermaid clan
Enjoying mussels by the shoals
Vacationing in far Japan.
They’ve left their brothers, mothers, lovers
Crying on the shore
For once you’ve heard the mermaids sing
You’ll come home never more.
Bag of Anything 