Notes By the Virgin Mary's Social Worker

mary and i
had a long talk about the baby
she said that she'd seen an angel
or that maybe that had been in a dream
and that she and her old man
had been on the road a long time

she paused
maybe the times could have been better
she said     that way we could have afforded
a better hotel     and maybe the tax collector
would have been easier on us
she said she hoped the baby'd be a lawyer

from Thebes (1991)

Gods Eat My Face

gods eat my face
my face gods eat
gods my face eat
face my gods eat
eat face my gods
gods my eat face
my gods eat face
my gods face eat
face gods eat my
eat face gods my
gods eat face my
my eat gods face
gods face eat my
face eat gods my
eat gods face my
eat my face gods
eat my gods face
face gods my eat
face eat my gods
face my eat gods
gods face my eat
my eat     face gods
my face     eat gods
eat gods     my face

The first line of this poem was a graffito I saw on a wall in south Berkeley.


from Thebes (1991)

The Bed

the squid with the woman's face is on the ceiling again
she sets one of the tentacles into her mouth and licks then
sucks it all the way in and the ceiling implodes
rather than go with it i watch     
an amalgam of colors and shapes
dull at first going brighter later     
i reach up with both arms
pull her down onto my face slip
my tongue into the gap of the cosmos
i have just seen and we are borne up
to the bed where i am suddenly alone 
and the shapes of the ceiling will not focus     
i cannot focus on her face or remember it
from what must be previous lives     the room
has become my body and what i see on the ceiling
i also feel and am     i long for such as she is
i close my eyes maybe the image will come in better

green grow the lilacs
i'll show them to you
green grow the lilacs
i'll show them to you

now the bed has widened into a vast white desert in japan
i am digging through the sand for the seven blue potshards
that i can build again into my soul
i have four of them already
the others are within inches of my body
i will find them i will build us up again
both of us

green grow the lilacs
i'll shw them to you
green grow the lilacs
i'll show them to you

from Thebes (1991)

from The Children's Hour

between when     comes that
i hear the patter and the voices
the sound from my descending

the grave alice and edith a whisper
yet i they are

a sudden!     a sudden!
to take to take they enter they climb
they seem their arms
descending the sound from mouse tower
oe'r i a sudden and voices
the grave     a sudden
grave     oe'r i
tell i     their arms
they     seem
oe'r i
the grave
descending

from Thebes (1991)

Earn Big Money Just Weeks From Now

more and more people
are drudgery
independent
one     with
repair

more and more things are
made of these days
observed     everywhere
peeling     chairs
wherever you     there's vinyl

CHORUS:
i like being in charge of my TIME!
i also work part TIME as a teacher!
i want to be able to spend TIME
with my children!
the business has allowed me the opportunity and
TIME
to work at home and still spend TIME
with them!

asked why     he decided
he says     there's a need
actually     most areas
never have enough people

he     works
charges seven dollars per inch
plus fifteen dollars per hour
his latest job so far was the local
three hours to complete

CHORUS:
i like being in charge of my TIME!
i also work part TIME as a teacher!
i want to be able to spend TIME
with my children!
the business has allowed me the opportunity and
TIME
to work at home and still spend TIME
with them!

from The Troubles (1993)

From A Dream

last night i dreamed i was
stuck in a room full of sleeping old men
and that it was the house where i grew up
and that i knew most of them
as my own mediocrities

the moon shown through one long high window
i marvelled at its yellowness before clouds overcame it

i stepped carefully between the men's spread mattresses
mattresses everywhere
these old guys two or three to a mattress
all asleep     half of them snoring
as i tip-toed in the dark until i got to the front door

where the rhythms of their snores
paced the motion of my hand
as i reached for the doorknob in the weird yellow light

there was just enough space     to swing the door open
and stand in the face of the cold alien air
i saw the lawn     the street
the old sycamore that i remember 
from as early as i can remember
how quiet out there     deep three a m
i stepped out closed the door and the cold air took me
the snores seemed so warm     i could smell their breath
and taste their breath in my own mouth even away from them
nothing moved     even the squirrels were asleep
blocks away i could hear a car running

from Auto Bio (2010)

July Rain

this is the hour that sticks to the skin

cuckoo clocks droop
over stones
in the midwife's garden

drool drips down
from the dog star

captured mice are photographed inside your eye
and can't get out
for the pressure behind them


from The Troubles (1993)

Santa Cruz

my grandfather's eyes are covered with shells he
has his mouth open
inside there are ocean sounds
they murk in his beard
my aunt refuses to hear them
and hides in her bedroom watches television
her children play on the floor
tear toy wagons apart
put the pieces together again
making small furry animals


from Thebes (1993)

That You Like It That Way

the real loser may be a thief

do i enter the room?
do i?     do i?
hello clock
hello plate
hello chainsaw
what's for dinner?

theatre

the wolfman enters stage left
puts an entire bungalow on his head
sings shakespeare
juggles a whale

cut to the foreign legion
and a random national anthem

that you snort coffee
     from rolled-up salvadoran peasants
that your cat doesn't like you
     even when you feed it
that you treasure the wine of your youth
     only when it's vinegar
that the iron in your shirt is only instant starch
that you're your own mortician's ultimate fantasy
that you like it that way
that     the chess game     on the wall
has arms and you think tells the time
to fight for you

theatre

the wolfman is someone you were
the chainsaw is your voice a year from now
your shirt your chest
nailed together with invisible flesh
the mansion     in which you plot
is only part of the wolfman's left earring
and below his feet
you can hear the jungle
scream
when the creatures intuit that you
too
were born there

from The Troubles (1993)

The Last Surge of Romance

at the end of its life a world is conscious
of not being in love
stars zooming away like romantic mistakes
scientists carrying fish in their armpits
numbering bombs like bottles of mouthwash
while entire streets
stick their noses into junctions of tall buildings
and inhale deeply

my hands
can't find your buttons anymore
have you sold them?
how much did you get?
the street
is cold to all offerings
the choice between apology and war
is made on broken down streetcars

on those steel hands rings of flesh grow
the rings throb unmercifully
grow like worms copulating with themselves
they swell
but cannot scream
there is no mouth to them
instead we watch the skies
for hints of mehanical romance


from The Troubles (1993)

For A Wall Street Journal

even you
     died
have tomatoes you to scream saw angels sauced
another burglary
giving it the rocks

even
your more
has mold inside the cranium
and even the would have been you
has a wealth of should have grown:

rich     in the wrong reason

even your church of commerce
has mice inside
is still alive

from The Troubles (1993)

Traffic

brightness     is probably
the least predictable     outside of cleveland
two cars     smashed     in a bar together
all the ditch can drink is water
and still     when no one expects it
the light blazes bright
outside city hall
for at least a moment

from The Troubles (1993)

Reunion Gig (after Ginger Baker)

i saw you beowulf at your drum kit
fifty years since grendel
since the breakup of the band
that made you royal

now you're ordinary
the speed of your sticks slowed to slow competence
your old guitarist's slower too but his fingering's more subtle
your old bassist needs a crutch to stand up

but you pound now     hard
as you did when you were worshipped
and your slow courage drives the music forward
and the songs still stand brave
     at the mouth of the dragon's lair
     where he wakens
     as in the old days
     and waits for your solo

Paintings For Tourists

paintings now by a schlock artist
the purple onion stands a chinese nightclub
cigarettes burn low the last vestiges of high school
my heart     is a building pass
in my shirt pocket

yes     yes     my friends are dead
begging blood while leaning
against buildings in the financial district
brandy turns into cherries
sheep on the street look up
hoping that stuffed potatoes will fall from the sky

you sat here once
the chair you sat on is tamed
bicycle messengers ride in your jugular vein
you just exhaled the blacktop of columbus avenue
now worn     it still never refuses to shine

from The Troubles (1993)

For Joe Speer Two Days After His Death

if i believed in such things
i'd have known the vision meant you were fine
visiting me     no     interrupting reveries
as a large yellow dog on a red sandy cliff
staring at me in what might have been anger
two nights after you'd died in albuquerque

i felt the anger     then my own shock
and confusion after feeling both
if i'd opened my eyes i'm sure i'd have seen you
right across the room
then i felt the love     and the hurt
as you stood more solid than dream
then faded to the color
of the insides of my eyelids

     the hillside on which you stood
     was neither california nor new mexico
     the land was wild     land is wild
     belief is wild and it's scary to be so tame
     that you don't believe anymore
          did you visit me after you'd died?
          were you making the rounds
          of all your old friends?
     i think that you'll be a happy dog
     or maybe     untame     a happy coyote

The Mythologization of the Lightbulb

the two lightbulbs use electric knives
to carve their dinner of broken candles

along the bannister
the amateur statue's severed hand
groping for another lightbulb

it is well known that lightbulbs
seldom go out walking at night
scientists argue
as to whether this has aided in their evolution

on the piano a candelabra!
an audience of lightbulbs!

the half dozen lightbulbs visiting the zoo
back away and avert their eyes
from the cage where it is rumored
they keep lightbulbs with simian diseases

on the silver screen:
lightbulbs in love!
like the northern lights:
lightbulbs in love!

a herd of white elephants
stampedes through a library
of fastidious lightbulbs
who are looking for a bright corridor
back to the veldt

isn't there somebody here
who will agree with me
that even the dreams of lightbulbs
once had arms and legs?

at the end of each millenium
all lightbulbs are broken
by people with glass jaws
who are looking for revenge

from The Troubles (1993)

Try Not To Be a Serial Murderer

try not to be a serial murderer

if people find out
no one will sit next to you on the bus

no one will want to dance with you

people even creepier than you are
will ask for your autograph
and take it home
and add it to a pile
that means even less than your list of dead did

you'll get to be a has-been
a boring creepo
and people won't even try
to overhear you at cocktail parties
to hear about the movie
nobody will make about your exploits

and even the next fad serial killer
won't want to kill you
because you're so boring


From The Troubles (1993)

Wildly Until

I


back, back from the flashlights could seal his doom. His eyes got to his feet and scrambled he had to run, and fast...as he went, into the alley. He rising only to race into the fog had to be...he knew not what but this time stabbing pain in his right arm, he pushed himself to his feet wildly until, panting, with sweat and burning them closed, he came boards, blocked his way... he crashed through the barrier safety, he sensed the taste of liquid unite with that of the sweat pain.

this naive newspaper and his arrival here.



II


He dare it as they'd said it would:

It wood red schoolhouse go down above which a sign wearing a black handlebar white shirt and a blue. But like they belonged their wearers travelled all of them wore the same. He sin town, the Grand Hot quaint though it was.

Upon was the center of attention handlebar mustaches, headgear on their head and they all stared at a show the same as the others but

"A room"

he nod

"No,

"Off odd here now."

"When?"

"Dunno," darker else brutes ped over the top cap fell off. entire skulltop was a concave "Didn't tell me." reporter's head. The hats skulls from everybody's view, and even zombie!

They had surrounded him. "Four others!"

everything and



III


"You o"

It was dark. Moreorless hazings of the light, like that "Yeh"

"I'm you?"

"Archere?"

"You room. Or you starve

"We're... Just... Any room with bullets"

John's red. The brute caught it. The guard's weapon and waist. The rope above holding the guard's rope son threw the noose-end. He missed. He tried a third

"See you

He climbed



IV


heard Marie's voice

keeper staggered forward, muttering then bowed what was left of his head. And, there was a concave metal disk. That smiled.

"Now you are master here," she said

wearing a bright green bonnet




From The Troubles (1993)

Note: I've done some minor punctuation changes from the original, which was punctuated to remain true to the material from which it was cut up. There are a few irregularities remaining, but the new version may prove to flow a little easier. The sole remaining version of the piece from which "Wildly Until" was cut is now posted to my other blog, Things I've Done For Blood.

Shopping Cart Poem

i began to understand suburbia
when i saw you
in matching suburban leather jackets
pushing your twin shopping carts
down shattuck avenue
with your clothes     heirlooms
and keepsakes from your kids
piled inside
i hoped you'd kept some money too
to survive

neither of you
was dirty yet

i hoped your neighbors
wouldn't have to join you
and wondered how     they could let you be here
instead of in spare rooms
in their own houses

from The Troubles (1993)

Walking Down

i began to believe we left
when i saw you
pushing twin shoppers
with your clothes go down the hall
and keepsakes from a foreign bedroom
piled inside     invisible flesh
i hoped you'd keep
to survive
as i would wake up to

neither of you
was dirty yet
no longer to their taste

i hoped your wonder how we were
and wondered how
instead of in their opium dens of coffee house

i began to believe in eyes open at the image
when i saw you     way across my bedroom ceiling
pushing twin love overcame them all
with your clothes     you're tired
then your bones ache
and keepsakes from you make the decision:
piled inside     move while the angry dogs are left
i hoped you'd kept in your head
a gold machiavelli
to survive

from The Troubles (1993)

Inheritance

plug in the right hungrier you're born
machine will     hungrier hungrier     you stay
hungrier famously     then
fortune may hungrier hungrier
look at the
tilt
two million years of brain stimulation
and the talent isn't yours
hungrier     hungrier
all else
a lie of bar soap
hungrier     hungrier
caveman fortune
looked at the spear
hungrier     hungrier

you
your children

from Thebes 1991

Urban Werewolf

i want to find the city again
in its nighttime     pavement secure against my feet
people out dancing
many false moons

my soul needs that jolting
juice like meat juice i can't find
in any place less wild     with light less courageous
light in sympathy with my metabolism light without which i'd be a dog

light     i am tired of the country now
of stalks through wood beneath full moon
alone of my kind a city boy in fields
not those of my experience

i need to find the city soon
where four bare feet always find solid sidewalk
and meat juice flows like neon
and there are always plenty of sheep to kill

from Thebes (1991)

Soho Night Walk

am i a dinosaur?     am i a werewolf?
alone i walk scaled
bigger than in memory down tiny streets larger
in the past than when i see them now
there are people here who look like me twenty years ago
and walk in couples
i walk alone
the full moon alone is my lover
all the songs in the clubs
i've heard songs like
and if she were here
she would ask me
what did you do these twenty years
and if she were here
i would tell her
repetition repetition
fossilization

from Thebes (1991)

Travel Haiku

thunderous applause
heard in summer's train station
just a baggage cart

Killed

killed
like something six legs in the wind
something human or inalien

heroic
when carrying something
or a free meal

the call was interrupted

blocked at the broken switchboard

talk about what

can't

to your seat on
these assholes
and are made you
and more concrete
i see

and actually
dreams
none

in
giant-reaching
steps


from Thebes (1991)