The Tower of Song

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With more skat
than a stray cat
can poke his eyeballs at
the punk
in the Midnight Choir
starts to twist and shout
Yet …
the All in All
all too beautiful
for even a bird on a wire
to sing about
Like that
concert hall in Vienna
where your lips
were so warm and wet
Getting a feel
of the real deal
… that love thing
Upon a mission
a royal commission
seeking foremost
the rock solid Kingdom
It all starts from within
Seizing the living moment
Best be in it
to win

And Leonard Cohen
he’s moved on
to the Tower of Song

To find truth
without love
or at least a trace
of faith and hope
like trying to climb
the highest peak
of Mount Everest
naked
without oxygen
or even a rope
Not saying it can’t be done
but man …
sounding much like
a clanging gong
in the Temple
of a world gone wrong
Or have I found
that love thing?
From the mire
of the dire basement
that we’re standing in
try as you might
to sight the heavens
across the endless skies
Far better
in the light
seeing the world
through heaven’s eyes
Heart and Soulful
Holy Mindfulness
is the rightful place
where we all belong

And Leonard Cohen
he’s moved on
to the Tower of Song

I too
have tried
in my way
to be free
If it be your will
then let it be
Yet
here on earth
they sentenced me
to forty years of mayhem
for spying
the celebrants
of sin
Tell me
where does
this world end
and the next begin?
Because
I don’t like your
toxic culture mister
And I don’t like
the choir
you’re singing in
I don’t like Big Brother’s
twisted little sister
The King
of everything
He’s coming back
He’s coming to reward them
The King of hearts
and minds
the Prince of Peace
returning
But first
we seek the Kingdom
Then let freedom ring

And Leonard Cohen
he’s moved on
to the Tower of Song

I’ve been buried
and I’ve been dug up
I call it grace amazing
You called it dumb luck
And thank you
for those items
that you sent me
The stone monkey
and the ink
under my skin
I’ve tunnelled
towards the light
and now I’m ready
First
we occupy the Kingdom
then
let the revolution begin

Yes … Jesus was a sailor
when he walked upon the water
Seeking the lost at sea
and the drowning
The stranger
the gambler
and me

And Leonard Cohen
he’s sailing on
to the Tower of Song

Through all
the rise and fall
the pulp fiction
from hell’s kitchen
I really like
to walk
that tightrope, baby
I really like
to hear
those Sirens sing
But to see that nightmare
of deception
prowling through creation
Jesus told us
yes he told us
Kingdom starts with

Remember me?
I use to to live
without rhyme or reason
Remember me?
I plugged your Hi-Fi in
You loved me as a loser
You’d hate
to ever see me win
With Christ Jesus
my ship has finally
come in
No longer tied
to a kitchen chair
With a Glory
and a broken Hallelujah!
But first
we take the Kingdom
Losing it all to win

And Leonard Cohen
he’s moved on
to the Tower of Song

I’m counselled
by a whisper
from the heavens
Once I was blinded
by visions in a spin
Now it’s …
So long Chicken Maryland
That frozen turkey
who nearly did me in
For now I’m guided
by the beauty of creation
and a thirst
for the Kingdom
where I first heard
those angels sing
Jesus told us
yes he told us
Kingdom begins within

And Leonard Cohen
he’s singing along
from the Tower of Song

~ by David B. Redpath © 2017-20

Artwork;
‘La Musica Sacra’
~ by Luigi Mussini

Photography:
David B. Redpath © 2017-20

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6,405 thoughts on “The Tower of Song”

      2. I made it back
        from the event horizon
        in a singular piece
        as the calculations
        from head office
        were clear and precise
        Not to pay any attention
        to the hallucinations
        emanating
        from that pirate station
        Black Hole Central
        as it’s broadcasting
        a false flag operation
        on your interstellar soul

        Like

    1. I try not to pay any attention
      to the opinions of the hired help
      nor listen to the complaints
      of the downstairs servants
      My maps and compass
      I keep safely locked up
      in a vault at head office

      Like

      Reply

    1. Antiquities
      and those fairy tales
      of Ulysses and Hercules
      ain’t what they use to be
      My compass pointing to
      the Nouveau Monde
      Reality getting more than even
      A captive yesterday sailing free
      Tomorrow is a brand new morning

      Like

      Reply

    2. ordinary citizens
      in extraordinary situations
      often where fears and desires
      stare at you from the shadows
      the guy in the German automobile
      DISPLACEMENT
      permissible objects
      suddenly wearing taboo layers
      I stand code-bound: you stand code-bound
      (+) E.A. Poe was an alarm clock awakening his readers

      Like

      Reply

      1. particles accelerated
        dilapidated
        etched in empty spaces
        hieroglyphs of defeat
        overtly exhilarated
        my code extracted
        covertly stimulated
        by the strangest graces
        from beneath
        the restless street
        failed interventions
        hollow conversions
        sublimated
        layered in the places
        human intersections meet

        Like

      2. trappings and decorations hit the floor
        strapped in a roomful of strangers
        each with a separate scent
        sacred to the profane
        I told myself
        that I was
        special
        the day started in a realistic mode
        Michael elevated to the divine
        handing wads of cash
        hungry hands/claws
        green paper candy
        people perform
        circus trash

        Like

      3. on
        the
        run
        an escapee
        from poetry workshop
        beggars keep asking me to fill
        their empty coffee cup
        carnival gypsies
        offering
        a taste of waste
        they call dark matter
        I just tell them that I am
        that poet who died in the gutter
        so nothing they have to offer
        ever really matters
        and how could their poetry book
        be written in the tomb
        when they’re still
        wriggling
        struggling
        and stuck in the womb

        Like

      5. a hobby
        that’s hungry
        sweet dreams
        are the house specialty
        living within
        a glossy magazine
        lost children
        rocking the action
        chained to the womb
        riding a hobby horse
        friends in short pants
        doing the foetal position
        mutually assured seduction
        reality silently off course
        sleepwalking a collision

        Like

  4. ——————the unattainable goal
    ——————simple to cheat oneself
    the numerous items
    which establish the whole
    the order of their occurrence
    an enormous number of words
    who I am, what I expect
    no desire to pause

    Like

    Reply

    1. I was brave enough to suggest
      that others
      shared an imperfect grasp
      of human experience
      I, who listen to angels
      know that the spirit
      is shared by family
      rare, the singular soul
      the sins of the father
      the sins of the children
      a collective mess
      endless data for the Letter of the Law
      somewhere in New York City
      numbers become reality

      Like

      Reply

      1. tonight I sprang a leak
        a blood vessel burst
        shooting red across the room
        the carpet, the sofa
        just like in the movies
        the night porter
        tied me off
        nervous
        questioning love and devotion
        paper towels and hydrogen peroxide
        death makes everything so much more serious
        asking God why reflections are never more pleasing
        tourists shit their pants over a waterfall or a jagged cliff

        Liked by 1 person

      2. a traveller by nature
        promised to drift
        lest he be kept from drifting
        the wild terrain
        of an existence without name
        free from a past
        drained of life
        where dead tourists
        ride the ghost train
        longing for that feeling
        of blood coursing
        through a withered vein
        with arteries collapsing
        into someone else’s
        long forgotten dream
        leaving only a stain
        as a once forsaken
        single spark of consciousness
        explodes the dark membrane
        exploring a never ending universe
        forever questioning
        … am I totally insane?

        “No bird soars too high
        if he soars with his own wings.”

        ~ William Blake

        Like

      3. tourists paying extra to ride the death train
        how much more mysterious could life be ?
        loads of empty seats for assumptions
        no space for commonsense
        tricks are openly served
        very little routinized

        Like

      4. hating the living
        the working dead
        a picture of health
        a permanent deep state
        grovelling and taking
        in the shadow of wealth
        spiritual cannibals
        searching for love
        from shallow regrets
        partial functionals
        bedding the wet

        Like

      5. to brave and overcome the spiritual cannibals
        who search for love knee-deep
        in shallow regrets
        Placebo Town offers a reflective opportunity
        to soften our self-aware distance from reality
        to focus or blur the line between being average
        or not so average

        Like

      6. Placebo Town …
        isn’t that the place
        they hold the Poetic Games?
        I do love watching
        those hungry competitors
        high on banned substances
        running hard
        with an egg-and-spoon poem
        towards a podium finish
        I wish they held them more often

        Like

      7. THEY SAY THAT MONSTERS ARE AT THE FRONT DOOR
        on television, people still have their hands and tongues
        what monsters ?
        (+) my relatives strangled in windowless rooms
        modern history seems recycled, colorized
        reforming inequities
        perhaps a new sofa cushion

        Like

      8. crows are now gathering
        at the sports stadium
        on the far side of town
        where children are dying
        and the vultures are singing
        in Dolby Digital
        Surrounding Sound©
        as the peacocks dance
        in a Technicolour® trance
        up on the big screen
        in celebration
        of the maelstrom to come
        predators now jostling
        for a prime position
        as spectators queue
        for a ringside view
        It’s just another
        blood soaked season
        of déjà vu all over again

        Like

      10. somewhat peculiar
        the death ride
        everyone knows it starts at birth
        eye sockets outgrow the skull
        left eye experiences guilt
        right eye, shame
        almost life-sized
        genitals
        the way they ought to be
        not copied from cattle
        (+) Adam asked God but he was too late, he was formed

        Like

  5. 5 am
    I didn’t sleep yesterday
    now I’m going on day two
    the world is quiet except for Isaak
    he’s on a loop singing about the terrible virus
    people who got the shot/shots driving off the road
    slow evolution no longer going forward, Babylon backwards

    Like

    Reply

  6. television prayers
    the presence of God
    to lighten all hardship
    Earth with its massed vocal chorus
    calling Jesus to tend-and-befriend
    calling Jesus to ignite our rescue
    (+) Thou knowest, I know not)

    Like

    Reply

    1. knocking on doors
      demons of loneliness
      asking for knives and poisons
      human skin in a nonhuman world
      often saddled with stupid intelligence
      brains that constantly ask questions
      hardware in our heads gone bad
      parts of our nature hidden
      moo cow genitals
      God fashioned

      Like

      Reply

      1. the man knocking on the door
        asks if our family love
        is conditional
        heartbroken pets by the curb
        with “love wanted” signs
        our American family
        just corridors without doors
        gibberish rearranged
        with a King James twist
        at the library I toss babble books
        in the trash
        on the floor

        Like

      2. christianese
        gift wrapping
        used to cover up
        a multitude of sins
        playing pass the parcel
        of compulsory gratitude
        at those never ending
        family gatherings
        all tied up to the neck
        with glittering tinsel
        the first one to move
        is destined to wreck
        the collective collateral
        first we must cull
        then bury deep
        and forever forget
        the black regret
        of that sacrificial sheep

        Like

  7. spice-heavy Michael
    a nice way to suggest
    a lifetime of drugs
    gathering
    consuming
    around-the-clock-Michael
    hanging outside the speeding car
    what hindered others
    would feed my desires
    up all night on the roof
    (+) making do with my moo cow genitals

    Like

    Reply

      1. having limited knowledge of a CONTENTIOUS woman
        I know pancakes can taste lousy and coffee can suck
        alive for a few last dreadful moments
        romance in real life
        they say that the psyche floats
        that satire is king and wears the crown

        Like

    2. Brandishing
      the genitalia
      of a wild stallion
      the Masked Avenger
      rides into Placebo Town
      where pretty señoritas
      seek the bareback pleasure
      of a bucking bronco
      and some equine action
      with that hombre renowned
      A legend in the cantina
      where many a fair maiden
      has fallen for his charm
      and his massive elongation
      Truly a romantic legend
      in the tragic wasteland
      of his own imagination

      Like

      Reply

      1. PLEASE GIRL
        brandishing the genitalia
        you enter the party with dong
        in a cape and a festive head piece
        (later)
        praying that God will intervene
        and upgrade the merriment boosters

        Like

      2. Branded & Stranded
        a human ashtray
        marked with a beast
        doing the James Dean
        has entered the room
        with a penis swollen
        another masked bandit
        fleeing a mother’s womb
        for a piece of lost soul
        headlong to his doom
        and swollowed whole

        Like

      3. I remember a lover
        who didn’t have flaps
        just a straight line
        her next lover
        he shot the
        husband
        in the head
        called it suicide
        the husband was a nice guy
        he looked forward to growing old
        ————–
        ————–
        after his death
        he would visit weeping
        his favorite line, “forever in loneliness”

        Like

  10. (+) how many times a day does the green light read you ?
    sentimental detachment
    children that torture their pets
    pulse-elevating vehicles of language
    deciphered back to a true primary choice
    enlarge on or obliterate
    toss them out the car window
    snap their little legs…….fly away

    Like

    Reply

      1. That place where warrior monks
        are out and about
        offering a free benediction
        HOSPITALISATION
        amongst the yellow minions
        in a state of habeas corpus
        can be a death changing experience
        The shades between black and white
        ever exposing
        pursued by lawyers
        of the great concealment
        Life revealing . . . Death defying
        Angels heaven sent
        weeping from clouded ceilings
        as nuns whisper a pray of repentance
        for those departing this existence
        whilst false gods and doctors
        play with promiscuous nurses
        under a shroud of darkness
        Beyond the hospital curtain
        the daily revelation that life goes on

        Like

      3. Freedom held captive
        in every direction
        positive and negative
        life in creation
        from the most
        to the least
        death in destruction
        don’t be modest
        have some discretion
        all things in balance
        the spirit eternal
        unable to resist
        a terminal fixation
        with war at the core
        unleash the inner beast
        time is fleeting
        unbridled self expression
        sowing and reaping
        survival of the fittest
        love and affection
        divine the assistance
        pride is a hybrid
        brief the relief
        of inflated self-interest
        a desolate destination
        the distortion of inner space
        human the imagination
        granted mercy and grace
        by the Prince of Infinite Peace
        Life can be a celebration

        Like

      4. hormonal tumult
        boys
        playing with boy toys
        boys taking showers with their underwear on
        a flesh colored homemade rag dong
        common thought: a bigger rag tomorrow
        ———
        ———
        exhausted, beaten-down white drifters
        dirty-faced women , some with beards
        no binoculars necessary
        standing naked outside
        welcoming friendship

        Like

      6. I was shot in the head
        sleeping out
        on a New York pavement
        then stabbed in the heart
        pan handling
        in Central Park
        Some back street tomcat
        made the comment
        after selling me
        some tainted crack
        that I really had nothing
        to complain about
        I must admit
        after I was blinded
        by a random acid attack
        and then cluster bombed
        by a Russian fighter jet
        that I see his point
        I could’ve been forced
        to wear a paper mask
        That just doesn’t sit right

        Like

      7. a gold star for living to the next death
        you and your hidden life
        perhaps in need
        of a double
        release
        in the dream, you found Kate Smith’s underwear on the floor
        think of all the strangers who labored in shadow
        endless confusion and self-doubt
        the rumble of her vagina cylinder

        Like

      8. That rumble in the jungle
        took a heavy weight toll
        Try as I might
        to keep it tight
        is it ever too late
        for the reprobate soul?
        Critical Grace Theory
        and clinging to history
        can never make you whole

        “Damaged people are dangerous.
        They know they can survive.”

        ~Josephine Hart (Damage)

        Like

      10. How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon
        this bank!
        Here will we sit and let the sounds of
        music creep in our ears:
        soft stillness and the night
        become the touches of sweet harmony.
        Sit, Jessica.
        Look how the floor of heaven is thick
        inlaid with patines of bright gold:
        There’s not the smallest orb which
        thou behold’st
        But in his motion like an angel sings,
        still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins;
        Such harmony is in immortal souls;
        But whilst this muddy vesture of decay
        both grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.

        ~ William Shakespeare
        (The Merchant of Venice)

        Like

      12. Normality
        is problematic
        Unprecedented
        like never before
        Poets of the pandemic
        in a panic
        defecating the tragic
        with the lingua franca
        of an illiterate street whore
        as the cohorts
        from Happy Holiday Resorts
        rort a depleted planet
        A higher reality
        keeping the score
        The unravelling of normality
        has far more in store
        as the daily propaganda
        makes the final edit
        so you’ll know just what
        this existence is all about
        What to be against
        and just who to be for
        as blind justice
        lies bleeding to death
        at the exit door
        Mortality
        is problematic
        Unprecedented
        like never before

        Like

    2. (1) go to Placebo Central Station
      (2) purchase an unauthorized plot

      with your own two eyes
      you will see
      you are not living a real sequel
      you are experiencing a fake sequel
      I did not sell you tickets
      (+) it would be foolish to reveal oneself through fiction

      Like

      Reply

      1. 30 million fake profiles
        in the Facebook Megaverse
        where fears disappear
        and heroes are named
        and I’ve befriended all of them
        Reality can be blocked
        Truth will only get you so far
        on that fickled social media
        There is no need to be ashamed
        in an avatar nicely fabricated

        Like

      1. 1. trust all primary perceptions
        2. skeptically evaluate your primary perceptions
        after a number of deaths
        you inherit a narrative voice
        you trust the voice
        mutual interests
        vigorous hand
        sex

        Like

      2. one day after a spell
        of breast milk
        there was that squeak of the hinges
        something wanted out and it wanted to spray
        (+) feeling calm on the shore
        (+) diddle diddle like Dr. Seuss

        Like

    1. in Placebo Town
      where the latest pop tune
      is a sacrament sublime
      the new normal is age old gluttony
      it’s written on the waistline
      and on the processed faces
      of those hiding in privileged places
      where the instant celebrity
      of reality TV is taken as a sign
      of holy divinity
      in Placebo Town
      fake news gets glowing reviews
      and honesty is a war crime

      Like

      Reply

      1. reality TV on every mirror
        I swear I see myself
        sniff my armpit
        I am a celebrity
        (+) rule one: love for a sinner must match the enormity of the sinner’s transgressions
        hatless and in bare feet
        Bob Dylan with his lust for rub
        enema syringes
        green-hued
        flatulence

        Like

      2. if you find that self love
        is not boundless
        you’re not trying hard enough
        tough love is still love
        with it’s whips, spurs, and harness
        no one else can punish you
        the way you deserve
        I just can’t wait to get it on
        with a one hour delivery
        of the latest submissive livery
        I thank God for Amazon
        and being serviced by a drone

        Like

      3. poetry workshop topic: JINGLE-BELL RHYMESTERS
        a sense of inadequacy, counterfeit legs in the sand
        more hollow than all those library poets
        nonsense literature on a lower shelf
        eccentricity wrapped in solitude
        michael-MICHAEL-michael

        Like

    1. resistance is the word
      it speaks
      to the comatose spirit
      of the recently deceased
      still attached
      to the flesh
      strangled to death
      with an umbilical cord
      transcendence released
      by a single act of faith
      acceptance of the Lord
      the Prince of Peace
      to whom this world
      is diametrically opposed
      resistance is the word
      running the race
      in the face of the absurd
      no matter the distance
      or circumstance
      without a holy avalanche
      the evidence of spiritual life
      resistance is useless

      Like

      Reply

      1. on television
        people are concerned about their garage floor
        oil stains and dark spots
        they wear expensive boots
        right out of the box
        as they apply
        a variety of dangerous chemicals
        later
        they park their new Lexus
        on the shiny surface
        the tires are so clean
        one could kiss them

        Like

      2. as featured in
        Town & Country Magazine’s
        latest edition
        the neat little houses
        of Placebo Town
        all clad in aluminium
        where kitchen fashion
        starts and finishes
        with sea green linoleum
        from wall to wall
        and under the feet
        of a suburban breeder
        the little woman
        with so much to adore
        all clean and sweet
        you could eat your dinner
        off her pelvic floor
        and still beg for more
        as begging for crumbs
        becomes the primary chore
        of your chosen profession
        in Placebo Town
        there’s just no negotiating
        a humanitarian corridor

        Like

  14. outside the walls of Placebo Town
    where memories are soaked in regret
    stuffed in glass bottles and tossed
    at invading tanks labeled Z
    such violent ache to see
    him without a soul
    replaced with love

    Like

    Reply

    1. I had no choice
      but to board that shuttle bus
      without my fertility goddess
      after she was arrested
      by the airport police
      for discharging a loaded weapon
      in the first class section
      right next to the emergency exit
      but I’ll forever have the memory
      of her glorious oratory
      yet I am overcome with regret
      like that killer blade runner
      Oscar Pistorius
      after he shot Reeva Steenkamp
      as I am to blame
      for that incident
      on board the jet plane
      whilst a mile up in the air
      the passenger next to us
      didn’t seem to care
      so I just couldn’t resist
      to be witnessed
      by a captive audience
      with the air marshal
      too busy watching
      to be raising an objection
      at least the air hostesses
      didn’t complain
      their kindness in abundance
      and wantonness overflowing
      as the seatbelt light began flashing
      with the cockpit on high alert
      coming in for a turbulent landing

      Like

      Reply

  15. words that carry us
    inside the minds of others
    at night I hear the cries
    of apes to their deity
    behind their eyes glowing
    perspective-taking circuits
    one day kindness will be abundant

    Like

    Reply

  16. SHE killed her first husband
    and the boys would hide behind bushes
    and admire her
    she enjoyed talking to thin air
    “another man another sex act”
    fiercely corrosive
    (+) cold white salty sperm

    Like

    Reply

  17. SHE privately found pleasure
    in the fact
    that people like Lincoln and Kennedy
    were dead
    she was strengthened by their death
    (+) prurient interest in the macabre
    SHE had the word “Holocaust”
    embroidered in her panties

    Like

    Reply

    1. most people know that the enemy writes graffiti
      on the rocks that they toss to do harm
      SHE writes on the hearts of lovers
      baffles their minds
      self-disclosures
      private
      hidden
      wooing
      wooing
      wooing

      Like

      Reply

  19. meandering around Placebo Town
    a foreign city located on the banks
    of the famous sister rivers
    that flow lazily to Hades
    Placebo Town citizens
    often wave to those
    journeying to be
    incarcerated
    Placebo Town, a city of irresolvable negotiation
    home to the happily mourned
    the mournfully celebrated
    (+) Bob Dylan stuffed with straw

    Like

    Reply

  20. SHE could make vegetables blush
    I liked that about her
    a poetic state of mind
    something we made into a private joke
    good readers need not knock
    just come on in
    (+) history deliberately withheld

    Like

    Reply

  21. identification papers
    in every pocket
    (no two alike)
    punctuation curves
    in Hollywood wigs
    grammatical hair
    from velvet cows
    thinking about punctuation marks as a metaphorical way
    from where one came, the order in which to return
    breaking in new tongues, old ones on the floor
    identification papers
    in every pocket
    (no two alike)

    Like

    Reply

  23. horse racing in downtown Placebo Town ?
    no one could agree where downtown was located
    American horses with high cheekbones
    popping pills and complaining of butt cramps
    British horses three days from the morgue
    tight turtlenecks
    unwashed genitals

    Like

    Reply

    1. Les choses sont contre moi!
      A trainer from deep state
      was on my case
      She wanted me in the next race
      Less out of love
      more out of hate
      A repeat performance
      of something from the past
      It’s now all a blur
      that life in the winner’s circle
      as nothing ever lasts
      with a Placebo Town wolf
      huffing and puffing at your door
      Thankfully my good friend
      a mafioso lawyer
      informed me it was all a bluff
      but I happened to noticed
      him placing a bet
      on Bad Wolf in the next race

      Like

      Reply

  25. looking back on romance:
    flea-bitten thighs wrapped around a plastic fork mentality
    freeloading tobacco, pink cotton candy, carnival farts
    (+) reminiscing in a cubbyhole underground
    they call it death
    but it is more like decay

    Like

    Reply

  26. easy predictability
    each adult less than an adult
    sexual experimenters ramshackle
    straightforward or senior citizen sentimental
    “if sodomy makes sense, it’s sex not reproduction”
    (+) LOVE is not only tolerated but encouraged

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  27. what is your literature—-ideas, images ?
    the multiple imitator who tries not to step in anything
    beware the swamp of general considerations
    knocks on the door
    that necessitate
    postponing
    those at the library
    with their acrobatic ability
    the beauties of Michael with defects
    playfulness with a price tag
    the non-reading public
    waving back

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  29. “chasing the reflection of memories hidden ”
    every time I chased down a memory:
    it had a disease around its tail
    or
    several children with snotty noses
    or
    chairperson of a $50k plate fundraiser for sea turtles
    yes
    crimes and misdemeanors:
    a thousand babies tied to railroad tracks at midnight
    buying meth in Punxsutawney for the next day
    lying about shared memories of adolescence

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  31. Patsy Cline is in town
    time
    has made it difficult
    for our fantasies
    to overlap
    Patsy Cline
    at one time
    was a cherished substitute
    back when SHE had an enameled pink vulva
    a fat Cadillac vulva (erroneous edges)

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  33. in the nursing home elevator
    you asked for the “man of letters” floor
    employees lacked the education to understand you
    somewhere Bob Dylan was singing “down from the trees”
    at the expense of thought, words replaced with moving images

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  34. how many librarians in the nursing home elevator ?
    plenty of aversion to reading
    people empty of books
    the floor heavy
    with tables of contents
    the mistrust of books
    creative products
    authors reduced
    to their parents
    and a sex act

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  36. an interest in one child
    at the expense of the others
    to move beyond individuality
    the timetable with a short leg
    gender motivation apparent
    depth lost in the details
    what will enable
    or impede

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  37. ———YOU ARE NOT SAFE———
    perhaps, in a backroom
    agents are reactivating your language
    fears of unexpected associations
    knives, their latent potential harm
    guns, their latent potential harm
    poisons, their latent potential harm
    and in the headlights late at night
    the demands of life

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    1. **** Comfortably Numb ****
      in a game of Russian Roulette
      at a Thai girlie boy bar on the
      island of Phuket. My opponent
      was some bit player from a
      soap opera about end times
      prophecy, yet no one seemed
      to be placing their bets on me?
      So, it was gratifying to see the
      mad scramble when pulling out
      the 44 Magnum revolver I had
      hidden under the table.
      All is fair in love and war.
      The victory was most gratifying,
      despite the meagre winnings,
      and an opponent insubstantial
      who had insisted on learning the
      hard way the meaning of being
      in the moment as all his scripted
      prophecy came to instant fulfilment.

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  39. small children wash upon the shore
    their bodies removed to a landfill
    future poets with bad knees
    thrown from tall buildings
    BEAUTY
    overcomes every consideration
    BEAUTY
    obliterates all responsibility
    the fruit trees grieve

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    1. The Automatic Termination Machine
      gave me two options …
      ‘YES’ and ‘YES PLEASE’
      Having long forgotten my PIN
      I was sent on a false flag operation
      along with two trusted mercenaries
      Menelaus and Agamemnon
      to the captive city of Jerusalem
      Sadly Menelaus forgot to pack
      the ammunition, but those two
      Grecian Blues Brothers sure know
      how to party
      Who said a false flag operation
      can’t be fun?

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  40. the turtles try to come to terms with the wind blown hymns
    their shells block the corridor of naked, sensitive feet
    smiles that articulate what cannot be spoken
    frozen smiles in complete silence
    alphabetical smiles
    easily read

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  41. mind mustering:
    people try to come to terms with poop
    romance, another story
    attentive to detail
    the task of becoming innocent
    one hand “habitual”
    the other, “a fish out of water”
    Emily Dickinson had original Hebrew female private parts
    Gertrude Stein often joked about her private parts creaking
    mind mustering:
    walk around poop
    walk around romance

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  42. the 59 cent question:
    are there toilets in Heaven ?
    if sex is love
    love is located close to the physical commode
    people are concerned about everything
    the volume of human waste
    not so much
    poetry workshop:
    bipolar people who raise chickens
    and throw the eggs at neighbor’s homes
    wild creatures journey out at night
    to lick egg coated buildings
    (+) wild creatures in tight beltless pants

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    1. “Life on planet earth is deadly.”

      that’s what an anonymous
      little bird told me
      whilst flying sky high
      over the deepest valley
      can the words from my mouth
      and the meditations of my heart
      possibly save me?

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      2. I saw agents trying to measure the meditations of your heart
        sometimes the nudity was disturbing
        sometimes a treat
        human feet planted on a ladder of metamorphosis
        articulating thoughts never really put into words

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  43. precious awareness, all the notions gathered from education and upbringing
    somehow captured on a canvas and known as a self-portrait
    luminosity no longer concealed, Michael no longer diluted
    dreaming about daydreaming, germinating
    (+) a self-portrait lacking facial expression
    menfolk around me
    bait themselves for romance
    a fishhook deep in the male organ

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    1. I had no choice but to shed
      my old snakeskin belt
      it had served me long and well
      in keeping my pants up
      but when a brand new bespoke
      crocodile skin belt came along
      I just couldn’t resist
      with it’s bigger than Texas
      ostentatious cowboy belt buckle
      more impressive than any massive
      Shakespearean codpiece
      caught in a tragic romantic tussle
      Romeo and Juliet
      could’ve used
      a little of that reptilian muscle
      as my crocodile skin belt
      still has all it’s teeth
      ready to rock in a roll of death
      in the event of back street hustle

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  44. sadly, the back street hustle has expired
    rock in a roll at the feet of Machine Gun Kelly
    dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead……music is dead
    just a bunch of overweight females shaking their cans

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    1. on the run from Mérida
      along the Yucatán peninsula
      through the Gulf of Mexico
      the Weather Girls kept telling me
      that no matter if you are
      naked and serene
      like a flower power hippy
      or camouflaged and disturbed
      on that Mexican marching powder
      Miami City is the place to go
      if you wish to be seen
      rather than transparently absent
      but somehow I wound up
      in the luxury Havana apartment
      of Mirta Maria Castro Smirnov
      Fidel Castro’s granddaughter
      drinking Smirnoff Red Label Vodka
      JFK would’ve been proud of me
      for what happened a little later
      sadly, a karaoke session singing
      ‘Sweet Caroline’ is all I remember

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  46. the offspring of silence
    itching to discuss guilt
    pushing away the fear
    downplaying those content with half knowledge
    “the things that I have done wrong, they are not a failure.
    they were a requirement.”
    (+) You, yourself, a lifetime occupation

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  47. “JFK would have been proud”
    the password phrase from an innocent time
    people swam in alcohol and ate meat raw
    what was a burden for wives
    was the ultimate prize
    for women dragging
    ugliness and fat
    ALL ALONE
    (+) completely alone and alive

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  48. the secret code of happiness
    think of Yoko in a shoe box
    listening for death to arrive
    voices in different registers
    speak in terms of cash money
    how much can they beg, borrow, steal
    (+) self-conscious about handing out feces to a caregiver

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  49. POETRY
    requiring special training and education to appreciate
    drifting on drugs, attentive to narcotics, dream logic
    daydreaming and driving a powerful automobile
    fondling a variety of subject matter
    getting literal with strangers
    contradictions are welcome
    detours essential

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