the happiest place on earth

we spent a long day cleaning out clutter today.  two sheds worth of bric a brac.  i felt the number of my years.  then there is the afterward.  b. and i took our kids, nick and j., to the happiest place on earth in sac: the drive-in movies.  sac 6 drive-in theaters upgraded a couple of years ago to digital projection.  the grounds are kept neat.  the operation is well-organized.  such a change in a few short years.  b. and i have made a visit to the drive-ins a yearly ritual before our kids were born.  10 years ago the theater was a dump.  i don't mean metaphorically i mean the place was a dump.  garbage strewn hither and yawn.  bathrooms unspeakable.  food, well, you took your tummy into your own hands with the snack bar.  today is such a sea-change.  there was a dude dressed as the easter bunny handing out candy to the kids.  the play areas have been refurbished and are safer for the kids to play on.  the snack bar is a'plenty with snack-bar like edibles like popcorn, candy, pizza and burgers with scores lined up eager to gobble these delectables up.  on the tarmac outside the snack bar are booths of goods being sold by private vendors of such variety one wonders who these items for sale might be for.  at the drive-ins is a whole carnival of life.  it is the happiest place on earth.  and the movie?  you don't go to the drive-ins just for the movie.  you go to drink it all in.  the all of it.  the whole enchilada.  the all of life.

no og go on

forgive me if i may be so bold the bang of creation began with the light from your eyes and the shape of the shadows upon your fingers i couldn't help but watch the shape of your ass as you moved from here to there for in your movement was the beginning of the word therefore my heart almost burst out of my chest in admiration and desire and i decided right then to endeavor to go on 

dailies

good golly ms. molly

what is the sound of no hand writing

in the presence of death we find

death is nothing and ordinary

de nada of no days

i have seen things you people wouldn't believe

try us we would believe it

how many lives do you get after death you anchor being in to doing no no-action action there is no no life and no no death

crazy days / crazy nights

work all day play all night.  at least that is the ideal balance.  this week i find myself up to my eyeballs in work, play and family affairs.  the particulars are of no importance accept to the people directly involved [like me!] but since i haven't mastered the art of la perruque at the end of a long day i take a book to bed and pass out after reading a few paragraphs and then arise in the morning for more of something similar.

c'est la vie, right.  i am doing my damnedest to practice gratitude.  for example, stop what i am doing look around and be glad i have been given the gift of presence.  this here now.  i mean how many lives do we get to have?  if this one doesn't work out shall i have another?  unlikely.  so stop yer bitchin' and get to livin'.

but let me point out my delight in the start up again after two year hiatus of the on-going interview blog antic view by allen bramhall and jeff harrison.   

and remember, yes, it is national poetry month which means bill cohen is posting his tattooed poets series at tattoosday.

so many books, so many movies, so many poems, so many ways of participating in creation.  spring is sprung.  for some that means the start of baseball.  for me it means going to the drive-ins.  what is better than sitting under the stars before a large outdoor screen with a few burritos from jimboys tacos sodas and/or beer bag of chips and the company of good friends and family.  some think of baseball as the passage of spring and warm weather.  i think of the drive-ins as the start of summer livin'.   

swoosh

late not that late tonight right now

the cats flap the cord 

tied to the laptop

this morning i saw

a video of a rock 

from space a meteor 

this meteor swooshed right past 

the camera and open canopy 

of a canadian skydiver

early evening drive down j st. nick and i in the pilot the rains break i open the sunroof and the windows all the world comes to this point of cool spring air sliver of moon thick juicy bass and drum snare blast from the stereo

the cruelest month

another national poetry month?!  wasn't it april just a couple months ago?  i mean, the time, right, the time goes like a rocket on a trip to mars.  at any rate, i thought, well it is the cruelest month maybe i should write a poem a day and post it here.  then i remembered i usually write a poem a day and post it here.  not everyday but the series dailies have taken a life of its own.  i think i've been publishing those poems for at least two years now.  i practice and live in poetry everyday.  i don't need a month to celebrate poetry.  to use a phrase by the great ms. chatelaine, eileen tabios, i do my best to practice poetry as a way of life everyday, every month.  each month is the cruelest month.  dare i eat a peach?  does a bear shit in the woods?  you betcha.