dream diary

 what the hell do i make of this one

i arranged an interview with mike ness of social d except that he parried my attempts to meet so i found my self in a park with anna waiting for mike to appear he avoided our meet date & time & sent in his place a VHS tape of a local Sac band that had been grooving on i watched the tape & agreed that the band whose name escaped me now was kickass but still anna & i waited for mike in a public park 

when i saw me yes me across the park walking toward who knows what the me across the park looked at us & smiled as if he were caught in some clandestine affair 

when he reached the trees he was gone from sight

i know you saw that i said to anna to which she answered yes i did

so then i saw me myself in a public park we saw me across the way in a public park waiting for mike ness so i can interview the punk rocker

& i don't which me is writing this right now

stagediving

it is when you find yourself onstage

perhaps next to the guitarist

or the singer 

the marshall stacks like a brick wall behind you

& the crowd below stage

dilates into a single eye

such movement

beyond sound or dance

but a dance within dance

where you go

off the proscenium 

like crossing the event horizon

of a black hole

into the singularity 

my first punk rock show

 

los lonely boy

 

                [watching los lonely boys perform at the ca state fair]

home front

you know you are home 

when you settle in

take a deep breath

& say to yourself

i can write poems here

pre-spring haiku

a walk thru midtown

                    still wrapped up for winter

i sweat my ass off

* * *

                     cat on the sidewalk 

rolling onto her back for petting

                     a meow friend

* * *

the city turns on her lights

neon rouge & streetlight blue

* * *

bradley pear trees in bloom

a taste of cum

* * *

hey fat rat in the bushes

                    i lost my way home too

* * *

the streetman pushing his shopping cart passes

you look familiar 

he says to me

                     

have a coke & er, um. ahem, lemme clear my throat, a lopez!

 

quote unquote

the poet who is not sensitive to the enormity and complexity of our historical and intellectual predicament is not worth reading.

--charles simic

* * * 

no man whose sex life was satisfactory ever became a moral censor.

--mina loy