I am at the table

with spotted napkin

playing connect the dots

lost in thought

a poem forming

in glass rings & ink blots

The server lifts a finger

one moment,

one moment,

for the nth time

and its fine

maybe when

my turn comes around

I'll know the order

2025 16 APR

"Papi, why do they call it trade or trades?"

"Are you picturing, mi Hijo, the action of handiwork passed from hand to hand for another artifact?"

"Yes. But we are not trading our woodwork for pots and pans, or bread, or linen, or machines. People pay. Not trade."

"We used to exchange work for work, but that is not it, Hijo. Perhaps it is like Chinese Telephone."

"Is that different from our phone, Papi?"

"No, haha, Hijo. I thought you knew. It's a game."

"Oh."

"Someone tells someone something somewhat familiar. That person tells another who knows a little what they are talking about, who tells another who doesn't, who tells someone else, who has no idea what they are talking about. And finally, we end up with something vaguely reminiscent but totally different."

"What happened to trades?"

"Mi Hijo, it started with something like treads. The steps you took to get the skills needed to create within any craft. The treads were not education, so much as a way of life. A trek."

"A track?"

"Kind of, but see? How your tongue is twisting."

"Why Chinese?"

"I don't know, Hijo. I guess we are always apt to blame the foreigner for our own domestic issues."

2025 MAR 18

We'll take our turn...

(the clock turns, and turns)

We turn it over, and

say...

Our turn'll come!

yet,

Surely,

Turning over...

O vigils we'll keep

Then...

when we take our turns!

Pestilence, it creeps

The soils scorched, and razed

The wars dig in, septic...

and the hungers kill.

Turning over,

Then,

We say...

Our turn'll come...!

(the clock turns, and turns)

We'll take our turn...

Surely,

then

when...?

"When god and his angels are sleeping in..."

2025 FEB 01

The living

do not know

that they are

breathing...

it's when

we run

& hide

we become

aware...

of that rattle

that intrigues

from infancy

inside...

2024 DEC 20

I am barred to this

I am barred to that

& every borrowed

word bows & nods

a twinkle in the skies

to have come to me,

myself & all the wine

I have poured out

inside my head

&

yet we'll not

complain...

You are barred to this

You are barred to that

& every borrowed

word bows & nods

a wrinkle in the mind

to have come to us,

selfless & drunken thus

we have poured on

from our content

2024 DEC 09

The sun is very fond

of angles

seen by the way its rays

fall, tri- as shadows

And water whatever

its form

always prefers the circle

we see how it rolls

and cycles

But man is polygon

a demigod

multisided form

with untold sides

Facets

to catch the light

prismatic

perplexed as how

to move arm or leg

ahead

Or sip liquid

through a straw

to reach the brain

decisions complicated

enough

without adding conscious

hiccup

as how to stay in shape

or fit oneself

into space

2024 NOV 26

An invasion of little

demons in the form

of ordinary peoples

Brushes with consequences

the dying brown soil

they single handedly turned

In the mind like worms

thoughts internal churn

a cranial terrarium

The decomposing body

holds in, a moment,

very shortly after birth

2024 NOV 16

all our life

gathered up

grain by grain

every year

as many

notice then

we grow old

and hungry

grain by grain

our moonshine

distills 'gainst

dry rice blades

all our life

glanced back

grain by grain

white pebble

on the path

flowered now

2024 OCT 28

Focus at one point

is a must

to lean into a thing

learn it, thus

experience teaches

the nature of hyena

howling

(this is taking too long!?)

in sardonic drawl

objective spread

over the indeterminate

while

as such git,

never gets done

like house cleaning

always put off

& putting off

posturing, circling

or building muscle

true 5 minutes a day

of prowess, stretch

leads to some good

in dissipation

& daily shuffle

but not so much

as maniacal focus

does

in seeing

through

any arbitrary

deadline hunt

& so, shutter

of an eye in the

photographing

of wild subjects,

for later, plain

out of the jungle

should these slide

over

the monocle

like a cackle

of hyena

striped, or spotted

with crooked smile

2024 OCT 20

all input seems good

till we begin analyzing

Pro-cessing... it...

we amplify emotions

& wonder...

what is that shit?

& what could it mean

what if...?

& we get busy tinkering

with compulsion

to neutralize

& neuter it

because we only want

what we want to hear

& see?

this Is how it was meant

as we sit reflecting

under the barren tree

having mulched

every discordant leaf

that dared deface

the suburban lawn

with fragile sense of self-import

still somewhat green

against the ancient dirt

all things are pushed

out towards

decay

& Hurry up! we say

good riddance,

we've no patience

for the pace of the elderly

who remind, no one takes time

to really listen anyway...

our dog creaks on its walk

and we pull the lead

for pressing obligations

two steps away...

Com' on!

& we are

that listless

hound

in sepia

leveled brown

on brown on brown

& our silent movie

fades to blank

2024 OCT 14