Showing posts with label arts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label arts. Show all posts

Thursday, May 28, 2020

BETWEEN THE BOTTLE AND THE BOTTOM

Here I am again between the bottle and the bottom

the balcony door open like a mouth

the sixth floor yawns the world awaits

to swallow me whole. I have an appetite for bacon fat

on toast with jam. Thinning hair and leaking pipes. I marvel

at this whispered life.

......................download

THE BANKERSARE SWINGING FROM THE CRUCIFIX



Thursday, May 21, 2020

Wednesday, May 20, 2020

Without God

Without God, or some disengaged third party, we would not have the moment of stillness. The

moment that overlooks everything, outside time and space, where it could be said that 'this' is reality.

Like the life guard in his tower. Spooky action. Or transmitted entangled photons. In Einstein's universe

there does not appear to be what a lay man would think of as reality. The landscape we play our lives

in. Faced with this, artists create their own universes. Alternate realities. Distractions. Colour against

the greyness. Which lead us down a long maze. A tangled spool of wool. The puzzle. And we're back

to Descartes again. I am.

.....................download Things I Forgot To Say At My Funeral



Tuesday, May 12, 2020

Emily

Emily had an old face. She always seemed sad. She was quiet. Sitting in front of me in Miss Kelly's class she hardly spoke. Never answered a question. About anything. And she started to bring me things. Candy from the store. Comic books. I never gave her anything. And then on a summer evening I broke into her family's home and started reading her diary. She had so many adventures. And admirers. Then I realized she was making it all up. Sex stuff. She wanted to have sex with her brother. But he didn't want to. Threatened to tell her parents. This was stuff you couldn't get out of your head.

.........................................................

download Mario: A Lost Boy


Monday, May 11, 2020

Donna Evilicious

More characters as yet to be assigned to their stories.

Flat Earth

.........................................................................................

On Jack (my planet) everyone is a believer. In a flat earth.

Not the geography. But history.

Time is a cliff we fall over. God is waiting to catch us. But he has no arms.

I got to thinking that I have no right to tell my children what I've found. Empty cupboards. A sadness so heavy and without reason.

But in all of this they send the poets to teach classes in literature in eastern universities.

Where the end of every poem has a smile.



Sunday, May 10, 2020

THOUGHTS TOO DARK TO BE QUIET

Flowers shot out of the vase. Like Cape Kennedy.
Across the living room rug. All those young boys lives.
Splattered across Vietnam. I saw Superman
crawling out of the television set. He was weeping
for America. But America was buried under
a rock. Someplace in Arizona.
All our hope in the nation state. Has begun
to wane. We are returning to castles, princes, and the Holy
Roman empire. We don't need heroes. Or crusades.
We need clean water. And a violin plays
while the planet disappears into space.
...........................
 download

Saturday, May 9, 2020

I AM ANGRY

I AM ANGRY

i am angry all of the time.
keeps me warm at night, offers compatible company.
but i'm getting old.
you can tell because blueberries go right through your system
unblemished.
my back, knees, my fingernails are being worn down
by the strain.
the anger riots in my stomach and naps in my brain.
no matter how much i vent, i still feel the same.
......................................

 

Friday, May 8, 2020

liar


Matinee

download 'Somewhere in the 1970s'
..........................
Matinee

Theatre floors. Sticky. Popcorn like burrs. Bull frog in the corner. Belched. Lovers in the back row. Crunching on crackers and marmalade. Red exit sign stared into the darkened room. Unblinking. Like it was keeping its own counsel. My heart was in the coke holder.

On the screen a man was pleading. For his Mexican life. Weeping. Before the dark gringo. Clint Eastwood turned to the audience. He wasn't smiling. Eyes smoking. Finger twitched. There was a gasp from the audience.

The seat beside me was gutted. A spring dangling. Out of the belly. Of Monica's nightmare. I remember her staring down at her purse. On the floor. Bleeding.

Monica had an abortion. Clint grinned. Bit off the end of a cigar. 'Everything was too complicated,' she said. 'How was I going to explain a baby to my husband?' I felt cheated. 'If you knew, what difference would it have made? Look around you. Life is despised.' A gun shot. Clint relit his cigar. The audience laughed.

Twelve feet tall. Wearing a white gown. Covered in dust. Passing sentence on everyone he met. Clint loved to feed his gun.

Exit. Outside. Sunlight was roaming the street in gangs. Everyone wore shades. Even the truth. Slipping down Yonge Street. Passed the panhandlers, the No Parking signs, the Hare Krishna from Buffalo. Stepped into a bar. A waitress served fries. And beer. A blonde on a platform. In a slinky dress that shimmered. Singing a Billie Holiday tune. Forbidden fruit. A stripper stood on another platform. Scar on her belly. A baby or an appendix. I ordered a beer.

Monica said that there were 2 other girls. At the clinic. Waiting alone with her. One was scared to death. The other chewed gum. And spit out her teeth. A doctor passing by. Dropped a bag of blood. It ran in little fingers across the floor. The doctor ordered the stripper to pick it up. I kept looking at the singer. Thinking. I could change her heart.

The waitress brought over my beer. I gave her a bill. Of some kind. And waved off the change. She made small talk. Single syllable words that sounded like silence. 'Honey,' she said. 'You look like shit.' I smiled and told her I'd been involved in some medical experiments. She nodded to the bartender. Took a seat. Said that she needed a break. Her feet were killing her. Lit up a cigarette. Blew a smoke ring. And I saw an angel. Being buried in a cloud.


Thursday, May 7, 2020

Thor

download 1948: Things to Come
.........................
My father was a professional wrestler. Lord Athol Layton called him the 'terror from the North'. My father was called Thor. He carried a large wooden mallet. He used it to level opponents in the chest. He called it Odin's heart attack. One of his most famous bouts was with Sweet Dady Siki in Madison Square Garden. My dad said that Sweet Dady was also a country and western singer. Like Gene Autry. Who the hell was Gene Autry? The worst thing about wrestling was 'B.O.' Some wrestlers did not shower regularly. Afraid perhaps of losing their allure.


Wednesday, May 6, 2020

time


Doger Ransel

On October 19 of 2017 a long cigar like figure was seen passing through the sky. Oumuamua, it was named. No explanation for its nature was brought forth before it disappeared once again into mystery. In 1948 Doger Ransel bought a Land camera, the Model 95, in Boston at Jordan Marsh department store for $89.75. He wanted to make postcard pictures of his girl Mercury DeBlanc. They went to a park and an isolated corner where they couldn't be seen. Doger captured dear Ms. DeBlanc's smooth milky breasts. And something else. A long cigar like figure moving through the sky across the face of the sun making the yellow ball appear to be laughing. 
......................download 1948: Things To Come


Tuesday, May 5, 2020

the organist


The Terror: Spectators #3

a bat
dropped out of the belfry
almost mating
with the judge’s toupee
darted left
almost entering a woman’s scream
looped over and
up and to the
right
everyone ducked
sergeant at arms ordered
curtains drawn
a cat leaped from the floor to the judge’s bench
lights doused
the courtroom turned blind
all that could be heard was heavy breathing wings
flapping a child like screech
and a cat .................................................. laughing like a gatling gun.

............................download 'murder'