ANOTHER DAY

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

I snake through these streets
at dawn
oxygen is brain food

come back
hoist the weights
do my Falun Dafa

still only 8 o'clock
the day lying in wait for me
like Apollo Creed
mocking
chanting
you got anything else, suckah?

the story of my life
am I Rocky
or just another bum?

dunno...
but I'll go down swingin'
either way

so cue the music
I'm about to hit the streets again
little kids
and dogs who want a piece of me
tagging behind

I move twice as fast
when I hear a siren in the background
a conditioned reflex
from the teenage years

seizing the day
before some body part
seizes up 

fightin' the good fight 
and Apollo is wrong
cuz I ain't goin' down...

at least not today

DAY AT THE PARK

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

From your soapbox
you're out to save the world
your words echoing
through the park
vying with bouncy
norteno tunes blasting from
low rider car stereos

your nebulous forever
built upon a city of hope
hope against hope
when you're dangling
at the end of a rope

but what if I told you
that everything thing we do
is motivated by either
love
or
fear
and that we can easily choose
between them

and that you stem from a long line
of fear mongers
over generations
and generations
of fear mongers
spitting incendiary words
into the air
the fire and brimstone
heating everyone under the tent
into a frenzy of believing

and giving

but material gain has naught to do
with the hereafter
it's has to do with the here and now
and that house upon the hill

and your aim is to be
that guy on Sunday morning TV
sayin' keep those cards and letters
comin' in folks
cuz it takes a lot of jack
to buy the stairway to heaven

so the plate is comin' round
folks
the plate is comin' round
(what's in your wallet?)

HARD

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

It's getting harder to find...

someone who isn't twenty

has half a brain

has an attention span of more than 10 seconds


It's getting harder to find... 

someone who can name one former president
besides George Lincoln and Abraham Washington

who won't call you "honey" at the checkout line

who remembers what I just said even if I can't


It's getting harder to find...

someone who can use
to
too
two
properly in a sentence

who hasn't been spotted at Wal-Mart
with a way too outrageous Brazilian butt lift
the cost of which has consigned them to 
meander those aisles for the rest of eternity

who can write a line like
"I'm blessed and I didn't even sneeze"

if U can write a line like that then 

drop 
me 
a 
line
or 
too

otherwise Dumb and Dumber To
is playing down the street...

see U at the movies

GUSHER

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads--dVerse Poets Pub

You think this is all
random
but even slot machines
are programmed
to spill their guts
at predetermined intervals...

the only truly random thing
is the poet
and his muse
and when that gusher
may be gettin' ready to blow

so stand back
ladies and gentlemen
because there's one now
(you can spot him by that
 tormented look in his eye)

as we move within range
it's advised that you prudently
cover your heads

we have pith helmets for sale
in the gift shop

ALTERNATE EXPLANATION

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads 

dVerse Poets Pub

That roach on the bathroom floor
was flat on its back
so I figured it was fixin' to die
(not always the case with humans similarly positioned
with a randy look in their eye)

respecting its process
(I've read Kafka)
I left it in peace
figuring tomorrow I'd give it
a proper burial
after dark
in the neighbor's yard

but when I went in there
it had up and disappeared
apparently righting itself
at some point
and hauling ass
which told me something
after I thought about it
'bout never counting anyone out
even when it looks to you
like the fat lady's opening her mouth...
it could just be you know
she's gonna stuff another donut in there

there is
of course
the alternate explanation...

the cat ate it

ALL THIS WAY

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads











A birthday boy's tendency
is to replay everything
against the purples
and pistachios of spring

The little white lies
from another time

The past receding
like the ass-end of a train
from which you've just disembarked

Ancient phrases
inside another eternity
and of no import now
the greater truths ignored
for sake of our little tete a tetes

Today I ponder the world's disasters
the worst of which is adding another digit
to that chronological catastrophe
I fondly refer to as me

Everyone gets  a raw deal
and still the clouds roll by 

Coming all this way
drifting across the cosmos
with these inconvenient truths 

on these afternoons without angels

and still we stand
in anticipation of one extraordinary love

Having experienced the moon
in a myriad of exotic positions
I unmask poems
of barking cats
and rats
and elephants
and stand revealed 
to lonesome applause

Waiting for Santa Claus
I blaspheme and bubble
in the center of all infinity
as I bend to softly kiss you
and the world becomes 
my oyster
and you're my clam

Let's go to Amsterdam



From my poetry and short story collection: Last Tango In Timbuktu

PARDON MY FRENCH

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

Sometimes, for politeness sake
(or goodness sake)
I try to come up with a euphemism
for the "F" word
but nothing seems to fit
(pardon the pun)


I've tried fu*k
but that smacks too much
of the hand of a censor for my tastes

There's fugg 
(as in "muddah fugga")
but that's a little too street
and I can't claim a lotta street cred
(though I've slept there a time or two)

Then there's fook
a bit too British, old chap
("put that fooking thing down
before you hurt yourself!")

And a myriad of old standbys
frig...frick...fock...
(Meet The Fockers--wink wink)
which have become so common
in the vernacular
they've lost all impact
(or should I say thrust?)

You could say it in French (baise)
and sound totally innocuous
on this side of the pond
(but not in the company of 
anyone wearing a Rasberry Beret).

Yep, try as I may
I've not found a good one
seems it can't be polite
and totally effective at the same time 
(a nugget for everyday living? )

So I guess I'll just say fuck it
and leave it at that

GOLDEN

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads--dVerse Poets Pub




On a sun-splashed day
in a desert 
where the Horse With No Name
made his claim to fame

With spring making overtures
like a punch-drunk lover

I saw her
in my mind's eye
I heard her
in my mind's ear
I contemplated her
in my mind's belly button

Behold The Vagabond Princess
electric rays sparking 
from the tips of her golden hair
she's been there
and back
on a beach with some name
And all because sunshine came
softly through her window that day

Swaying to the beat
of a distant drummer
her gaze is locked on summer

A painted man
walks down the street
blowing bubbles out his ears

How does he do that?

The world is a wondrous
and magical place to be...

The answer blowing
in the tail winds
that are bringing her to me 

MILLICENT BEGINS THE MONUMENTAL TASK OF DICTATING HER MEMOIR

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads--dVerse Poets Pub

(A revised version of one that appeared a few years back. Enjoy!)



OH, BUZZARD SHIT
she said, with a wink
and a drink in her hand.

I knew Marilyn when
she was still a brunette.

I boinked so many famous men
there's no keeping track.

It wasn't notches on your gun
back then...
nothing like that.

They were all indiscretions.
You either gave in...
 or you didn't.

Some guilt?
Sure.
But you did it for love.
Every time.

That's the difference 
between then and now.

BUZZARD SHIT
she said with a start, 
momentarily nodding off--
her gin and tonic slipping
from her fingers
to the floor,
seeping  into the
wine-colored carpet.

It only lasts for as long
as there's a twinkle in his eye...
get that down...
a twinkle...in... his...

And she is out
down for the count
and done for the day.

It's a beginning.

ARE YOU READY FOR LOVE???

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

d'Verse Poets Pub

Would I appear more attractive to you...

If I were bravely shot out of a cannon
and landed in a mangled  heap
just short of the straw pile?

Would I appear more attractive
if  I wore flannel shirts a size too big
(with shoulder pads beneath)
and had a beard
(oop, I have a beard)
and went out each morning
with a big ol' ax
to single-handedly chop down the rain forest?

Or, say, if I held my wine glass
with my pinky extended
and gushed about "finish"
and "bouquet?"

Would I appear more attractive if
I posted pictures of my Corvette
(better get one first)
from every angle with the caption underneath:
VROOM VROOM?

Or if I popped over

and fixed your computer with one
perfectly placed karate chop...
VOILA!

Would I appear more attractive
if I were twenty years younger?
Thirty?
A baby spitting up on your new sundress?

Or...

If you saw me falling out of bed
( banging my head)
first thing in the morning--
mumbling...scratching...farting...
traces of last night's garlic popcorn on my breath, 
chasing you around the room imploring:
KISS ME--I'M YOURS!

Reality raises its ugly head.

Let's all go back to bed.