rolly turtle thing

levitating turtle--
plastic toy found by curly girl
or a conquering saint?

we almost missed you, beach
bum turtle. what were you doing
alone at maumee bay?

brace yourself, turtle,
land dweller-- we'll take you to a
good home. no more sand.


Frog on river bank.
Quiet and calm on mountain lake.
All is peaceful. Plop.

ode to a blue whale

salt encrusted plates
sift through the oceanic
untidiness. we

watch and listen as
you gobble and scoff about,

ing the immeasur-
ablity discovered
upon opening

your worldly corpse. found
inside: one tire, plenty of
krill, dirty linen,

fourteen blow up rafts,
eleven fully intact
ancient greek sculptures,

a schooner (no masts),
twenty ships in bottles, six
rusty propellers,

and four schoolchildren.
we began understanding
lives of whales: swim slow,

die old and never
eat the sail, because sometimes
they might not digest.


humans drink coffee
boiling black throughout each soul
with cream and sugar

beginning of a bad week

my dog passed away.
we found him in his own shit-
it wrecked our monday



A friend of mine said,
“Do you believe in a life
After we are dead?”

I laughed at the dearth
of his intelligence, like
A boy of seven.

“My friend,” I replied.
“When I’m gone, there won’t be earth,
Let alone heaven.”


of music songs

Up and all around
are melodies in the air--
we grab the good ones.



we were flamboyant--
awash with color, whirling,
soaring high in lust.


slightly more serious.

One more date, I said.
Two more kisses, three more nights.
You died around four.


happy birthday!

we succeeded, and
he fell on the street, head be-
tween his legs, puking.

block of writers

words try to escape
my brain, but i'm aphasic
and i cannot write

to E-- who is not smooth with lust

this boy on the bus
is a relic, reminding
me of better days.

the best birthday, thus far.

tonight at thursday's
we made jake not human. his
mom thanked us and laughed.

if fantasy were reality

When I seduce my
therapist, will he fire me
before I fire him?

Or should I fire him
first for seduction at my
hands: hot and guilt-free?


a sensible interpretation of life

distance and time are
relative, but money is

tonight, the light

the ashtray is full
as this night comes to a close.
we talked and laughed some.


the door leads to light
the window leads to darkness
my eyes shut to see.

the night, right now.

laying on the couch,
yearning for a cigarette,
he beckons for sleep.

sly and subtle

his cats slip across
the floor. the aging hardwood
hides their intentions.


perferated squares,
checkerboards above my head.
counting them, i wait.

telephone wire

your shape bathed in light,
lying for hours on end,
lying, you fooled me.


why i can't i seem to
see the shit you see behind
my dirty brown eyes?

tonight is a good night

bob lays on his couch
as we try to conjure some
haikus. we don't fail.


the light goes off when
i see the sweat on your face
as you scream for me

couches eat people

i take my shoes off
only to fall on my face
to feel what i need

arlo guthrie

rocks en route to face,
with intent to kill, getting
stoned long ago hurt.


incapable, my words don't
exit my brain right.


the butterflies float
out of the side of my head
like thoughts i forget


life is kind of like
death: you walk around and soon
know that shit happens.

Nietzsche said...

Akron Ohio
is an abyss. I look in-
to it, and it back.


the midwest feels like
a fiery hell as if
satan was mayor

tv casualty

the tv is off
so i feel i'm unaware
of my surroundings


i am too tired for this
poem, so i sleep

island vacation, dude

and other vacation spots
that i'll never see


and lancaster said
"something wrong!" and we didn't
believe him one bit.


the truth about college

the teacher we all
thought we'd love and admire taught
us nothing but lies.


it felt like excavation

we were strangers. as
he pounded, i shut my
eyes. boldly lying,

i claimed to be a
virgin. it was an excuse
for making a face.

dammit, morning

that sunlight beats through
ow! it burns past my eyelids
should have closed the blinds.



I missed the first half
of my grandad's funeral
because I'm lazy.



i got a message
that said kurt vonnegut died
so it fucking goes


on and off. many
peoples minds are like most lamps:
controlled by others

ode to good health

the only thing that
good health achieves: people
dying more slowly



I like my jacket.
It's blue and makes me feel like
a British gangster.

Ship It

He limp-calls preflop.
I bet, he raises. I jam.
His nines are no good.

for isaac:

you said "if the damned
gave us a road map, then we'd
know just where to go"


the d.a. levy
coaster on my desk is glad
to be remembered.

the truth about money

my old watch tells time
just as well as the newer
one she bought for me.



i was born on the
tiled kitchen floor of my
grandmother's old house



nervous butterflies
devouring my insides
and my body shakes

an inconvience

the ship was sinking
as waves crashed onto the deck
my socks were now wet



i blame my superiors,
so i'll sleep at night


black not blue

my hand is shaking
as the ink flows from the pen
nothing but black stains