Mad Apolologies

Yes there are nights like this

when he goes mad….

did you expect something else?

Perhaps you were mistaken 

Mad in his own mind

Maybe, too, in the view of others

But that seldom matters

with few exceptions

they know who they are.

In a bad state

Mad state,

right now

So…

fuck anyone who disagrees!

(…there he goes…such poor taste)

but why apologize?

no offense intended

just a head gone unattended

No apologies accepted

Not in this state

Of mine.

PERVERT WITH A MISSION

“There is nothing more driven than a pervert with a mission.”

“Are you suggesting…?”

“Not at all…you can allay your suspicions.”

“Why broach it if you didn’t mean it?”

“There was no implication….”

“Oh! Just an observation?”

“Absolutely.”

“Yet you cast dispersion…”

“Disagree. As in-offensive as I could possibly be.”

“I see…….sounds like bullshit to me.”
“Sorry we don’t agree.”

“Is there a point to all this? This repartee? Because I’m now taking it seriously.”

“Please, not personally…”

“You can bet, personally. Wouldn’t you if you were me?”

“Quiet. Here she comes…”
“Gentlemen. So sorry for the wait. I’m putting you at our best table, with my personal apologies.”

“No…it’s okay…really…really…”

“Please follow me.”

“Oh. What a body…heavenly” thought McGee as he gazed her glide, following, fixated, from the backside lusting, realizing Carter was right. Damn he.

She pulled his chair with an inward lean

The most luscious mounds he’d ever seen…

His breath escaped, he stood frozen…exposed…as his ardor rose.

“Oh lord, it shows…” said Carter with glee. As the room stood simultaneously, applauding in practiced unity,...including she, smiling wickedly.

“There is nothing more driven than a pervert with a mission!”

Damn that Carter...Cruel Joke...on me.

Yet a friend, is a friend, when a friend is in need,

and later, much later, she accompanied me quite willingly. 
Low and behold, 
first shy, soon bold
Insights gleaned
souls unfold
first she...then me...then she...then me...
on and on 
and obviously
We share the same 
Depravities.

Good man, that Carter. 

I owe him my wife.

It Pays The Bills

I want you to know

the light is on

where I reside

it is not dark

I do not hide

I abide my own rules

no demons to wrestle

no desires gone cold

bright enough to see to write

Whatever I am told

By voices  that come calling

To images that unfold

Eloquent moans from the inderground

Or Feeble musing by the less profound

Vaporous visages

Visiting

Knocking on a noggin

Maybe slow to open

But open just the same

It’s me

The shadow on your window shade

From the light cast by yellow vapor lamps on the blvd

There’s a lot of things a man should regret

Most I’d say is what he’s done to man

How barbarous They are

....okay, we...

...how cruel

and hurtful

and blind

To atrocity

But there are those

Might call it damn-lilly-squat-soft-thought

Or just plain

Victimism.

It’s the cruel view

The world in chaos

Carnivorous calamity

carnal culmination

Cravings

Ravings

Crude Carvings

Crass graffitti

Cave Paintings

Catastrophism

It’s me. I’m not here to cause you trouble

I just go where I’m told

...or land...by accident.

So, relax.

I can drift on down

That way...

follow the lights...

like I was never here

You never saw me,

never heard me through the door

The door you never answered

As I slipped by

I Hushed a whisper

‘The secret to the Secret,

And all the fruit it bore...’

But that whisper went unnoticed

Or was it sadly, just...Ignored ??

Damn man.
You came so close.

So slow to open

your mind.

There’s this guy down the street

Right around the corner

Going to pay him a visit

Much the same as you

Maybe this time he’ll listen

See, I’m his muse, too.

It pays the bills

And the bills are due.

TAKE ME HOME

Mary:  Have you seen how many pills Dad takes? My god!

Cara: The neighbor found him the other night. Weeping on the corner. Didn’t know where to turn.

M: How'd he get out there? My god! Who, Hal?

C: (shakes head) Hobart...

M: Shit.

C: Is he alright? ...Dad? Dad alright?

M: ...wiid swings, Hard to tell what's him or the meds talkin’. He swings hard in every direction...he called me a bitch whore cunt last week. that all I wanted was his money...stealing his life... and I was a disgrace to the family name. I cried for a day...maybe two...that one dug deep. But the nurses love him...just the sweetest old man....

C: Playing his fucking games again...

M: Always.

C: Should we get them all reviewed? Interactions or combinations? Side effects...

M: Yeah..again? Then what? Another round of something new that makes it worse and gives him grief. He's got enough going on. We've been through this enough...

C: What if we take him off?...Entirely?

M: He asked me that the other day. Woke up from his nap , his head still on the pillow, like it came to him in his sleep, he asked me straight out 'what if I stop the pills? Will I be in pain?'

C: I've seen him. He winds up tight like a ball of ropes, curled up inside himself clutching on to who-knows-what? Just tight stringy muscles, like ropes  wrapped around sticks, tightly bundled. Is he eating?

M: No. Some days he's ravenous, but, in general, no.  His day nurse...

C: Diane?

M: Yes.

C: I like her.

M: Me too. She asked if anyone has told him he can 'let go, now'? I told her that I've told Dad dozens of times - 'if i could end this for you, I would'. He was hurting and begging to go. I think he's afraid. I'm not going to judge him...

C: Says he wants to go see Mom...his 'dear wife'... that's what he calls Her to the nurses...what bullshit.

M: I know. But they had some good years in there...

C: Poor Ma. She didn't know.

M: Poor Mom. That fucking disease...

C: Should we take him off? ... Hospice?

M: I think we should have that talk.

C: With him? You think...?

M: I'd say, in the morning...when he's clear. He drifts out after lunch, and is a bastard at night.

C:Same pattern as last time.

M: Only worse. Less coherent. More angry. He can't tell 'sleep' from 'awake' so his anger carries over...

C: He said "this isn't the way it's supposed to be...".
 I said '...god doesn't let us make plans..." He calls me a smartass cunt bitch whore.

M: (ugh)...he's so fucking hurtful

C: He says 'If My Mother could see me now...she'd take me straight home!'

M: Momma's boy. Scared little Mama's boy.

C: Mean ass bully

M: ...and a mean ass bully,

Somewhere along the line, something got damaged. It was all rearranged....all deranged...wrong, yet erased from memory, just the same. In the grave before life's passing, a sad and lonely witness, to his own declining stage and ultimate demise.

RISK IT ALL

There’s a blank page

Had to be when this all started

But look’it here

The blood on the page up here…

See it?

…In the corners?

A spray? A spatter?

I suspect it starts there

From the outside

Then works it’s way in

First a papercut

Perhaps, a bit of a nick

Drip. Drip…drop, by drop

You start to flow,

grows Outa control

and the next thing you know

you got guts on the page

and your heart

splatters dead center

still pumpin’

...and we just started talkin’ 
now the Real work begins

You start squeezing, smearing, and smashing

Squashing. Splaying. Splutters …

splurts like farts
no time to wonder

The madness all that matters.

Oh, man, you can thrash around

But the most you can muster
No matter how profound 

Is killing yourself…You know that, man?

And for what?

Some schlock hustler?

Be they Small scale, big time, or huge

They'll just cook you up 
and let you stew

Eat you up

Pick your bones

Cast your carcass to the crows…

Yet you’d die for the chance.

So You do.

Perfectly Clear

...pretty soon you'll have to be wary of who your FRIENDS are, because they will start 'tangent-targeting' you for Likes, dislikes, reviews....creepy stuff.

Big Brother, under the covers.

You never want a FRIEND.

Surely don’t need lovers.

I am a man of no culture. Not dwelling in the web. Hidden, airborne like vapor. Not a trail to follow. Nor a scent to sniff. What appears structured, just hollow. Not a Who. Not an If. No culture, no face to render, no credit...cash tender.

“He looked like……..”

“He was……..”

‘Yes I saw him, but not really...”

“Yes , for awhile, we were face-to-face. No I can’t describe him. Not at all.”

“I couldn’t tell you…”

“No, no one else was there. I was alone. I am sure. Saw no one…”

“We have surveillance.

“That wasn’t him.”

“I swear he wasn’t there.”

And these were the eyewitnesses.

This is how you have to be.

Spill your guts on the network and they learn about you

Too much about you

Your odd notions,

families

failures

emotions

frailties

fantasies

 ....and finances

Blab away

Easy prey

Online each day

No one cares

what you have to say

But they...

They do.

Best stay silent

Just Go away

Don’t scan

Don’t swipe

Burn

Don’t shred

Stray out, but if you must

Wear hats 
or bland disguises
in streets
shops
malls
or city bus

Don't borrow
Don't buy
Don't obsess
Don't possess

Change your look

…your identity to unlikely

nothing unexpected

but change it often

go unconnected

strip naked
go bare
Meld, blend, bleed,
unseen

Live somewhere barren

off a highway

Too long…

Too out of the way

No reason to go looking

And every reason to stay

Hidden in a desert

A lizard on a rock

There if you look hard

Gone before you can

Just a sense of exit

A flash before it’s gone

Yet I am sure they are looking

Spy sat’s overhead

Chameleon reeling on their screen

Drones driven to distraction

No target to target

Growing bored

by what’s ahead

Choppers shop the wasteland

Too hot to shop too long

Too grueling for the resolute

Backbreaking for the strong

As far away as forever

And still stay upon the sphere

They won’t cease looking

                                                                       

...when
I've always been right here.

                         

Next Up

I remember I went downstairs

For a smoke around midnight

Following the girl with thin thighs

With nowhere to hide inside skin-tights

She spun while banishing a tear …swipe.

And said “just ‘cause you riff, don’t mean you Write

Just cause you jive, don’t make it wrong

Just make it better. Just have a ball.”

And she was right.

That night, she was right.

What choice did I have?

Some people…sprinters

Some folks, joggers

I can be a broke-down plodder

So what?

Just get somewhere

That’s all that matters.

So I plod onstage

…hating Mic’s

Verging on panicky pee - pants

while drowning in stage fright

But being totally Ignored

Was my plight

...no recognition

......no applause

............. sitting there

Just backs at the bar

In heady patter chatter

Until I capped it

And it squealed

FEEDBACK

made heads snap

Back to me

the fool in the corner

At the back of the room

Lights fade

attention paid

they stare now at this Empty Shell

while one drunk yells

‘What the hell you got, Fool?’

That’s when I knew

I was Up.