tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73808960240996386722023-11-15T10:42:57.475-08:00sequence, sometimes metaphysicalwelcome to the waste-bin.natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12322390971053493132noreply@blogger.comBlogger233125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7380896024099638672.post-25955804695893458972013-02-08T17:22:00.000-08:002013-02-08T17:30:13.799-08:00grizzly poemFuckt a cow; do not know<br />
how. Fuckt a bear,<br />
twas pretty fair; end-stoppt<br />
a sheep; didn't<br />
make one peep. Befowled one<br />
longtailed lynx, sext<br />
its six; a howl-prooft hole.natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12322390971053493132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7380896024099638672.post-66673115606571513992012-12-31T14:01:00.002-08:002012-12-31T14:03:24.679-08:00topsideWalking west next<br />
to the canal between the water<br />
bodies of lake union<br />
<br />
& puget,<br />
bombed out by a messy<br />
cascadian mist,<br />
<br />
I, murmuring, wonder<br />
why moss grows topside<br />
on horizontal branches.<br />
<br />
I inquire a kilted<br />
cyclist thrushing by.<br />
Through his beard<br />
<br />
he says<br />
wanderlust seeks sun<br />
but a dead body<br />
<br />
open-casketed for a wake<br />
dries out a chapel<br />
from inside<br />
<br />
& the seeds split.natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12322390971053493132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7380896024099638672.post-44425302603226053412012-09-05T11:09:00.001-07:002012-09-05T11:12:23.597-07:00no homeIn the far-off cool of evergreen forests, no home<br />
for me, my body not born<br />
there;<br />
<br />
not far from here, over yellow hills<br />
blasting heat and yellow light<br />
brush-stroking the sky,<br />
<br />
no home<br />
for me, my heart not<br />
born here;<br />
<br />
My two prostitute mothers<br />
present me to Solomon;<br />
their struggling<br />
<br />
saws me in half.<br />
<br />
<br />natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12322390971053493132noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7380896024099638672.post-4085910307110851682012-08-29T11:11:00.003-07:002012-08-29T11:11:44.954-07:00writer's workshopGod you bores me, gores me<br />
slow, filing us<br />
in your paperwork shuffle. Fix-it<br />
and fix-it again, retaliate<br />
not and filch from every poor<br />
bastard that ever wrote realist<br />
fiction, prose so shopworn<br />
and dull as a spoon. Lacquer<br />
and lacquer again. Lick the cross<br />
of Carver and his "editor"<br />
and then you <i>may</i> begin<br />
to come into your power as<br />
writers. As if power<br />
is something come into as a writer;<br />
but that's a dictator's view.<br />
The screw turning us now.<br />
<br />natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12322390971053493132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7380896024099638672.post-64806471232320888722012-08-24T15:58:00.002-07:002012-08-28T21:45:33.532-07:00catfish in the hole<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #999999;"><br /></span>
</span><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: #999999; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">In darkness </span></div>
</div>
<div style="display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: #999999; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">a serenity; no one to holler</span></div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: #999999; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">me, only the trenchish sea-bottom</span></div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: #999999; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">of darkness: of the morning that is night,</span></div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: #999999; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">the 2am singing, soft, sweet</span></div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: #999999; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">over sycamore leaves. The churchyard</span></div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: #999999; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">wilted, the county fair a fistful of trash,</span></div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: #999999; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">the river silt </span></div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: #999999; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">swallowed by a catfish in the hole,</span></div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: #999999; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">his belly yellow-white, ripe thankful</span></div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: #999999; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">with fat, with flesh, possibly also</span></div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: #999999; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">screwdrivers, penknives and paper clips, </span></div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: #999999; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">edges of an ancient Budweiser can; </span></div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: #999999; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">he loves the night, too, and my papa</span></div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: #999999; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">sets out hooks for him. (Night: hookful </span></div>
</div>
<div style="display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #999999; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">thing, not hateful.) The night is true</span></div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: #999999; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">love: no holler of life here </span></div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: #999999; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">smoking up the corrugated </span></div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: #999999; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">corridors of my brain, no </span></div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: #999999; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">encircling black birds, no tripwires,</span></div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: #999999; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">only darkness, darkness </span></div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: #999999; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">without ire, envy or lies: only the truth </span></div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: #999999; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">of the moon, shedding light,</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #999999; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">the catfish in the hole, </span><br />
<span style="background-color: #999999; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">river cat</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #999999; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">sucking river silt. </span></div>
</div>
natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12322390971053493132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7380896024099638672.post-65577036953173622212012-08-24T15:52:00.001-07:002012-08-24T15:52:21.820-07:00All of the first responders are dead<br />
and they sent me to you with these<br />
pliers.<br />
<br />
Help yourself to them before the fire:<br />
the more the teeth, the more<br />
the pull.<br />
<br />
I am filling up my chalkboard self with<br />
what else<br />
but more chalk<br />
<br />
and more aspartame, because real sugar<br />
is for diabetics<br />
I guess.natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12322390971053493132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7380896024099638672.post-64793009848231325832012-08-17T10:01:00.002-07:002012-08-17T10:01:30.197-07:00recurring dream person problemsYou grew a beard in my dream<br />
last night, switched sexes<br />
and declared yourself<br />
as yourself<br />
in a final sense. One hazy<br />
night a month ago you<br />
possessed my lover's body;<br />
becoming her. Blonde hair dyed<br />
black, tan skin<br />
drained fishbelly pale.<br />
What are you doing? I haven't<br />
spoken to you in years and<br />
don't intend to. In my dreams<br />
you're like a man found facedown<br />
in a pile of shit and trash,<br />
enjoying himself. My own face<br />
in the between the burger wrappers<br />
and puss.natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12322390971053493132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7380896024099638672.post-78675268265975095132012-06-08T18:00:00.002-07:002012-06-12T18:35:27.545-07:00madronaSkeletal pentecostal<br />
swaying outside my window, rain-bit and leaf-crushed,<br />
swing your branches like acid stirred into whiskey-punch<br />
and wish the night gone-by<br />
as I wish it gone-by. Moreover, listen<br />
for the moon arriving<br />
star-faded and sad;<br />
send my love, send my love<br />
<br />
The outdoors gone mad now--<br />
ratwhiskers twitch and squirrels<br />
torture baby art-birds beneath streetlamps;<br />
raccoons get all the good<br />
trash, rape screechingly each other<br />
atop human unattended houses<br />
in humid, wet weather;<br />
send my love, send my lovenatehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12322390971053493132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7380896024099638672.post-13951344076730502732012-06-07T15:33:00.000-07:002012-06-08T18:07:16.821-07:00vaguely indiscriminateWe have a country whose primary cultural movers and shakers are focused on fast food and cigarettes, the bad habits. Primary debate reduced to the best smear-campaign or the utterly banal. And here I am smearing with the best of them. Argh. Obesity the great sadness of the first decade of our new millennia, early death, bad choices.<br />
<br />
I have a suspicion that this ultimate concern of what goes into the body has replaced our concern with what goes into the mind and heart. Our collective and political concern bears this out; the fact that most graduating high school students can't even afford to go to state-run universities... I think I read that the UW receives a mere 7% of its funding from the state of Washington.<br />
<br />
So, let's close our borders. Get those fucking Mexicans back where they belong. Smack down another gay marriage law, cut university spending wherever possible, keep insurance premiums for the very poor just out of reach. Support Israel because Israel... is God's chosen people (I once heard a United States senator say this... he <i>said </i>it <i>outloud.</i>) Yes. This is a good way to run a country.<br />
<br />
And those out of control polemics. I feel myself getting sucked into them, and I think I've always hated polemicists (sorry, Hitch, rest in peace, but really, good riddance). Another Youtube clip is going to really help. Especially if I post it.natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12322390971053493132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7380896024099638672.post-85112298021937650632012-05-03T22:18:00.003-07:002012-05-03T22:18:37.068-07:00book burningsometimes thinking of the tidy<br />
castrati bringing in the sheaves<br />
<br />
I wonder, taking S.K.'s impossible<br />
suggestion,<br />
<br />
should we stack all the bibles<br />
and burn the dusty pile to the ground<br />
<br />
wouldn't there be more blank space<br />
and wider room for sin<br />
<br />
so that we may be abound<br />
in gin,<br />
<br />
and in the Spirit<br />
wherever them may be foundnatehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12322390971053493132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7380896024099638672.post-32492697055225205232012-04-26T14:22:00.004-07:002012-04-26T14:27:40.930-07:00almondsThe rich-sweet taste of sliced almond<br />
in my mouth, satisfaction or<br />
contentment throwing me a bone.<br />
<br />
<br />
I could smile away an evening<br />
if you were in my<br />
mouth. Thinking of you now, your blonde<br />
<br />
<br />
underskin, your brown<br />
epidermis the color<br />
of dirt, of cool earth, I think you are like slow<br />
<br />
<br />
coffee and several cigarettes<br />
following a meal of beefsteak, fried<br />
potatoes, a perspiring glass of High Life<br />
<br />
<br />
in hand, my ass in a rocking<br />
chair, grease still in the plate, humidity<br />
plenty hot.<br />
<br />natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12322390971053493132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7380896024099638672.post-86719413046716302302012-04-26T10:40:00.000-07:002012-04-26T14:26:41.801-07:00handkerchief sandwichMy poem "Handkerchief Sandwich" can be found in this month's edition of Elimae. Here's a <a href="http://elimae.com/2012/05/Sandwich.html">link</a>.<br />
<br />natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12322390971053493132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7380896024099638672.post-19073185225888651532012-04-23T14:48:00.001-07:002012-04-23T14:49:57.405-07:00the janitors of existenceMy friend says we don't have breakdowns, only<br />
break<i>throughs</i>. I think<br />
the operative word here must be<br />
<i>break</i>, something related to the present tense form<br />
of <i>broken</i>. Either way<br />
the breakthrough<br />
is a breaking through<br />
of the bottom.<br />
After all,<br />
the bucket empties<br />
whether you kick it through<br />
or down<br />
doesn't it? Either way, a lot of liquids<br />
to deal with. I think the operative word here must be<br />
<i>mop</i>, with all that you've got to do in life;<br />
I wonder if we are just the janitors<br />
of our existences, mopping<br />
up the excess fluid<br />
or simply<br />
spreading it around, depending<br />
somewhat<br />
on the nature of the pay.natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12322390971053493132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7380896024099638672.post-41162814708450942522012-04-20T17:52:00.001-07:002012-04-20T17:54:39.827-07:00I climbs the ladder<br />
twisting away from the wall<br />
<br />
<br />
I cleans the adder, sets him loose<br />
to crawl the bedsheets of the bathroom stall<br />
<br />
<br />
in daylight broad as the sun<br />
and as deep as the sea<br />
<br />
<br />
and will continue--to set before him<br />
the things he wants to eat<br />
<br />
<br />
chicken egg or leaf<br />
marrow yolk or grief<br />
<br />
<br />
(rat after rat after rat<br />
eat and eat and eat)<br />
<br />
<br />
if that is all there is for me to know<br />
when seeds don't sprout<br />
<br />
<br />
and plants don't grownatehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12322390971053493132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7380896024099638672.post-40111685794849628322012-04-20T15:38:00.002-07:002012-04-20T17:42:18.089-07:002amThe processional of pain<br />
<br />
in the artifice of your heaving<br />
chest. Your mouth over the porcelain<br />
<br />
god, your putrid and<br />
chunky<br />
<br />
offering<br />
<br />
a sick and rejected<br />
nutrition<br />
<br />
of your earnings: a liquid<br />
pyramid<br />
<br />
of decayed<br />
process. I would get you clean<br />
<br />
baby, if only I knew how. I did<br />
my best to reach into<br />
<br />
your mouth<br />
<br />
to pull out the thing<br />
eating out your guts<br />
<br />
but lost my hand<br />
in the process.natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12322390971053493132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7380896024099638672.post-83699766243691316782012-04-13T14:21:00.000-07:002012-04-13T14:34:25.206-07:00headfirstGollyjeebers what a pretty fucking day.<br />
Outside, all the fun.<br />
The sun, the lake is making blue,<br />
blue that's as wide and clean<br />
as a white-toothed grin.<br />
In here, in the book cave, all the interminable<br />
think-time proceedeth forth<br />
like a monotonously beated line<br />
--one-two, one-two--<br />
all the introspection that tends to drive poets<br />
of all schools, eras, and times<br />
headfirst through the wall.<br />
It's too sunny to think about<br />
dying but sometimes I wonder<br />
how to think about<br />
anything else.<br />
Go outside.natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12322390971053493132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7380896024099638672.post-61506776813738494302012-04-13T14:12:00.001-07:002012-04-13T14:14:16.206-07:00I want to go out<br />
and smoke cigarettes in the sun<br />
to do the healthiest thing I know how.<br />
Tell my therapist I'm worried<br />
<br />
I'm always worried.<br />
Now the days are turning wider<br />
in a more optimistic gyre,<br />
and I wonder how addiction works<br />
waiting on my wife to come home.<br />
To have indulgent<br />
talk with her. Ask her do I only indulge<br />
myself?<br />
<br />
She understands<br />
my crazy songs<br />
translates for me the wider world<br />
and I play her not to sleep<br />
as the days get wider.<br />
<br />natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12322390971053493132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7380896024099638672.post-55284495603205677482012-03-28T17:10:00.000-07:002012-04-03T15:26:17.875-07:00stillwater, oklahomaThese people are fishes swimming in a sea of heat<br />
drinking it up. Daylight drinks are done well,<br />
or light, not done up. I feel doomed<br />
to follow you there,<br />
dudes. I wish I was with<br />
my lady friend, my sanely friend.<br />
But your hospitality<br />
is mead-hall worthy, and the sway<br />
in the leaves matches it.<br />
<br />
I could tell her about this<br />
instead the bottom of these multitudinous glasses<br />
which, if melted,<br />
would cover these dusty tables nicely.<br />
<br />
Calling from Stillwater, Oklahoma<br />
where buckles are big and hair is short<br />
and the heat flows<br />
from the great gas spigot in the sky<br />
and I am a dog listening to all the whistles,<br />
where there is more hospitality than I want or need,<br />
liquid hospitality, that is,<br />
<br />
and I think about my far gone woman<br />
probably asleep before me,<br />
how I would like blushingly to hold her hand here<br />
and say look darlin how good<br />
they treating me <br />
fighting hard not to feel scared.natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12322390971053493132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7380896024099638672.post-62407999610681168922012-02-10T18:23:00.000-08:002012-04-02T22:01:52.034-07:00Upstrapped by his boots-pulled,<br />
he set about opening coffee chains<br />
and the girl down below<br />
moaned a blue note, a blue note, a blue note.<br />
<br />
The great erring pains<br />
of bearing the ugliest goddam baby in the world<br />
tore out his wife's temporal lobe.<br />
Step aside, he said,<br />
<br />
gesticulating at her. She stepped.<br />
Her little white gown swayed a little<br />
in the ICU air.<br />
He motioned towards his feet, and she kissed them.<br />
<br />
The ocean turned in full defeat,<br />
the denouement undone<br />
or undoing itself until full night comes,<br />
neptune on its back.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12322390971053493132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7380896024099638672.post-83363497126937935512012-01-18T13:06:00.000-08:002012-01-18T14:28:50.233-08:00snow fragmentThe eerie quiet gathering of snow:<br />
innocent infants assembling on branches,<br />
bushes with deciduous leafs, the shoulders of coats<br />
worn by those who walk to work.<br />
The murmuring silent assimilation<br />
each flake, solely its own in the sky<br />
becomes one with the bank by salted roads.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12322390971053493132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7380896024099638672.post-4244501010086205002012-01-14T19:28:00.000-08:002012-01-14T19:31:04.558-08:00the minimum1<br />
<br />
Absurdly named, a pesto-pan-tomato-roll<br />
roars past my face<br />
<br />
and I am sore, sore afraid: bad news<br />
bears are uh-comin.<br />
<br />
Scheduled to work 12 days<br />
in a row, I moan, alone:<br />
<br />
I got no angle on the truth<br />
but the truth's got an angle on me.<br />
<br />
<br />
2<br />
<br />
You tired, you sick, you hungry?<br />
Too bad, you. We in charge<br />
<br />
all priapic for money;<br />
we in charge got you where we want you.<br />
<br />
We the redneck in the woods<br />
lowering his trousers for a chafing go<br />
<br />
at your shivering<br />
glory-hole.<br />
<br />
<br />natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12322390971053493132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7380896024099638672.post-21876276004399775162012-01-09T13:18:00.000-08:002012-01-09T13:18:09.532-08:00afternoon at nielsen's pastriesA five-car pileup of oldsters at the pastry case<br />
ordering snitters, danishes, cinnamon rolls<br />
espressos, kringles, and cake<br />
take their first, second, and final bites slowly;<br />
to them, there's more than enough time<br />
to take your time<br />
even as there is no more time to waste.natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12322390971053493132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7380896024099638672.post-51254159074411991762012-01-09T00:14:00.000-08:002012-01-09T00:14:26.237-08:00<div>
The schizophrenic outside</div>
<div>
strikes the air</div>
<div>
takes a step back</div>
<div>
and I wonder</div>
<div>
what exactly he's hitting at</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
and why he hits it</div>
<div>
or if he strikes himself</div>
<div>
or got struck, himself</div>
<div>
one day by a ball thrown</div>
<div>
past its intended recipient. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Did he wear a helmet</div>
<div>
after that? Would you? </div>
<div>
Would you waltz, feint, or tarry</div>
<div>
at coffee, cards, or tea? </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
He smokes, smokes, and yells</div>
<div>
mostly at cops. Wherefore </div>
<div>
you go, you go unwillingly,</div>
<div>
all of you. I would give him</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
back his teeth, I think,</div>
<div>
set his eyes on the same</div>
<div>
traintracks, to smash the money</div>
<div>
in the penny. </div>natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12322390971053493132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7380896024099638672.post-72199397367441511482012-01-05T16:01:00.000-08:002012-04-02T12:39:04.052-07:00ode on fried chicken1<br />
<br />
<br />
Sitting in the Safeway parking lot<br />
munching fried chicken<br />
<br />
I hunch my shoulders<br />
and try not to be seen,<br />
<br />
savoring each<br />
grease-smeared morsel.<br />
<br />
I'm afraid of being spotted<br />
by friends and in-laws,<br />
<br />
my wife, colleagues and onlookers,<br />
the foodies of Seattle, Washington.<br />
<br />
I don't want to be taken for a heathen<br />
or as a brethren of the fat-folks<br />
<br />
whom share my name<br />
and history. Those gun-toting rednecks,<br />
<br />
purveyors of big trucks and mysterious chickens,<br />
whom I know and somehow<br />
<br />
love. Yet still I know I would rather be here,<br />
here in Seattle, Washington,<br />
<br />
where I feel like the proverbial<br />
kid-with-hand-in-cookie-jar,<br />
<br />
hunching down and eating fried chicken,<br />
waiting for judgment to come.<br />
<br />
<br />
2<br />
<br />
Eating animals, parts of animals,<br />
parts from which part of the animal<br />
<br />
I cannot tell you, dipped<br />
in batter made from an unknown frozen<br />
<br />
delicatessen, in grease that has been frying<br />
for years<br />
<br />
because pleasure, pure pleasure<br />
is better than the constant thinking<br />
<br />
of how I will die.<br />
I will die someday too soon<br />
<br />
I know, and to my death-moon I'll say,<br />
You're early, goddamnit. Until then:<br />
<br />
what of the joys that are here:<br />
fried chicken, late nights, peanuts, pizza and beer?<br />
<br />
Hunker down, chicken-eater!<br />
Get out that egg beater,<br />
<br />
set the skillet to flame on the stove, fry drumsticks<br />
without fear:<br />
<br />
the last day comes too soon<br />
no matter what you do.natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12322390971053493132noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7380896024099638672.post-52913894346672952792011-12-21T15:45:00.000-08:002011-12-21T15:49:36.056-08:00gone to the sea, oh empty bellyDreamt a plane spectre<br />
crashed into the sea: come out the sky to drown<br />
so many bodies in the blackgreen<br />
Puget Sound.<br />
Shoes, ineffably, flew into the air,<br />
legs and arms and things untellable<br />
on impact. I cracked ribs and coughed blood<br />
with throwing up, bent over<br />
against a park bench<br />
in a pink vaporous evening's end.<br />
Rat-ah-tat went my teeth<br />
at the rail. I imagined your face<br />
in a window pressed<br />
against the heavy glass,<br />
peanuts still salty<br />
in your mouth, and I thought<br />
how life barely fits<br />
barely fits<br />
in those little plastic cups.<br />
The sun came up to prove against<br />
your ending;<br />
I woke with your nibbling<br />
and was glad to know you again.<br />
<br />
<br />natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12322390971053493132noreply@blogger.com0