Friday, February 27, 2009

old. (30)

it startled me.

those white hairs popping up on people I knew from grade school.

there were some in my beard.

we were getting heavier.

or thinner.

worst were the ones I saw seldom.

radical change, it seemed.

their faces had changed so much

and sometimes it was hours later

I recognized their eyes.

this was all too soon, I thought.

and if I could see it happening to them,

it must be happening to me.

I tried looking in the mirror,

but I kept throwing out my chest,

standing up straighter,

turning to my better profile.

what if I really was looking older?

I thought I'd noticed a change

in the way young women

smiled at me.

dear god.

these kids with mohawks these days?

they're starting to look like idiots!

didn't I used to have a haircut like that?

and those lines on my face.

no matter how rested I was,

there they were.

often I felt creaky,

like a car with frozen springs.

so sudden, all of it.

you watch more carefully than I did,

my son.

try to see when this all starts

so you avoid it.

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

buddha head says:

don't talk about what you don't know about.
go hungry, but don't stay that way if you can help it.
assume no one else thinks like you and act accordingly.
pleasure can be simulated, misery can not.
it doesn't cost anything to be polite.
get kicked in the balls at least once.
try and learn to use silence.
you can be robbed of your possessions, but never your experiences.
go crazy, but come back soon.
great sex is better than frequent sex.
recognize idiots and stand out of their way.
recognize fools and stay close enough to watch.
there is never enough time.

Friday, February 20, 2009


got coffee and a paper down to
if I bring my own cup
skip the sandwich
first time I felt nervous like this
short month, anyway
hands spin on the clock
the days fall off the calendar

Hoary Morning/Family Day

webs of frost all over
ghost town out here
nobody working
but the feds
twilight zone streets
pins dropping everywhere
darker even
than a regular monday
ride the centre line
whole city stopped
except us
boy's birthday today
drive and dream
I'm still in bed
with his mother
and him

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

work (past the ports)

sit on my left nut all day
and say the same thing over and over again

the money's not great but it's better than it used to be

80% of the time I can tell what people are going to do
before they say it

music from the radio,
always just out of the reach of my hearing

I get to think a lot
but sometimes it's easier not to

people don't seem to like it when you
tell them what they're going to do
before they do it

there are pretty women,
sometimes not so pretty women,
and sometimes I speculate on what their genitals look like

I make the little ones laugh and
the old ones smile
and vice versa

while my back hurts and my hair grows

I mentally recite a list of dead actors
to assure myself my mind is still intact...

wonder if there's a beer in the fridge

eat the same lunch in the same order every day
except on Fridays when I get the breakfast special

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Dan And Me

his ma got too much gas during a leg operation

so she couldn't watch us very close

we drank up all the grenadine

and played floor hockey downstairs

with a tennis ball soaked in ronsonal

we were always lighting things on fire

smashing bullets with pliers and hammers

3doz eggs on the back of Ryan's parents' house

the whole hood ornament thing

bookended that girl in the easement

he was catatonic the last time I saw him

his mother still says hi