You can’t
trust your
memories.
Memories are
fabricated recall,
the handmaidens
of dream,
shiny coins
floating down
the wishing
well of
the vague
notion of
time.
Memories cloak
the moment.
Memories are
the skid
marks you
leave as
you brake into
the future.
Cast your
line into
the river
of time
& let it
float with
the current.
Your reflex
when the
bait’s taken &
the line
goes taut
will demolish
your
phantom past.
Filed under poems & short jabs
We are
pale imitations
of a
dark cosmic
force
that eats
Zen monks
like
potato chips.
Filed under poems & short jabs
Hang on to
enough sense
not to
shop for
happiness on-line.
Enough sense to
double-bolt
the door &
sprinkle
stardust
on the
carpet.
Then turn the
lights low &
bask in the
afterglow.
These are
the new
tools of
survival.
This is
how you
wade out of
the ocean of
red lobsters
& jellyfish.
There are no
hard &
fast guidelines.
You need the
mind of a
wind-up
toy & the
crazed instincts
of Hamlet.
You need to
keep your
eyes lowered
at the
grocery store &
steer clear
of the
produce aisle.
You need to
stop breathing
when necessary.
Don’t renounce
anything,
that’s a
sure giveaway.
Don’t embrace
anything,
that’s
certain death.
Stay off
the streets &
don’t fly
in airplanes.
Don’t express
an opinion.
Dance around
conclusions.
Relinquish everything
you ever
believed in
right up until
a minute ago.
Filed under poems & short jabs
There comes
a time when
your first
friend dies
& it
shocks you.
Then maybe
another in
four or
five years
& another
two or
three years
after that.
The feeling
goes from
shock to
uneasiness.
Years later
it’s not
unusual for
four or
five to
die in a
single year
& you
begin to
lose track of
who’s dead &
who’s not.
Filed under poems & short jabs
I ate
lunch
in a
restaurant today
where all
around me,
in stern
accusative voices,
people fired
questions
printed on
little cards
at whoever
was sitting
across
from them.
Who pitched a
no-hitter
high on
acid?
What California
governor had
once been
Mr. Universe?
What Italian
opera soprano
committed cunnilingus
on a
cat?
What’s the
average number
of apples
in a
bushel basket?
How many
Afghani
terrorist children
were eliminated
by drones
between 2009
& 2011?
It was
like a
mass interrogation
going on
while over
the P.A.
system a
rap group
did their
version of
Rudolph the
Red-nosed Reindeer
& waitresses
glided between
the tables
with trays
of food
held high
overhead on
one hand.
Filed under poems & short jabs
You can
tell the
ones who
have been
maliciously
attacking
you &
your writing
behind
your back
by the
way they
can’t
meet your
eyes when
you’re finally
face-to-face.
Filed under poems & short jabs
