Sunday, September 26, 2010

clock on the wall

the clock on the wall,
was the clock in his head,
a friend lay fading,
on a broken bed,
nurses, doctors,
needles, medications,
anatomical extrapolations,
this was the fall of a man,
a fall of nations,
a shadow, an echo,
a crumbling of the foundations,
of what had been built,
through time,
through fight,
yet quickly,
in the night,
the very sickness that would make a struggle,
to get from bed to urinal,
reduce truth to a kernel,

would in a breath,
take what was temporal,
and make it eternal.

(photo by D. Neutel)

Tuesday, September 21, 2010


slip away from this brick and mortar world,
into checkered beats,
and black lit triads,
step down your leather shoes,
into a puddle of spit,
wipe your valves,
with a sweat dampened rag,
find the half-count,
pick-up on this B flat,
move to the F then to the E,
and hold it gently but tightly,
until your air is gone,
your lungs burn,
your veins throb,
empty all of yourself,
so there's nothing left to bury,
but a trill,
a rim-shot,
a pause...


Thursday, September 16, 2010

drive-thru haikus

leaves touch pavement

starry skies of summer end
please don't go

grey skies hang
my loneliness seems more visceral
where's my smokes?

plume of smoke
burning leaves smell blows past
cold misty hands

remembering back then
kissing her in the rain
change is hard

fall then winter
seems like things die slowly
beds get cold

this old sweater
good for drinking big pints
cherry pipe tobacco

life the search
art is the universal religion
birth through knowledge

lost at sea
"great writers steer you home"
bloggers remind me

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

The Program

frenzied voices,
shouting and laughing,
echo down the wrinkled streets of The Glebe,
university students pull couches off U-Hauls,
blaze up on paint chipped porches,
new roommates,
good-time grins,
fresh faced parties,
turn to hustled friendships,
and desperate relationships,
days fly forward,
course loads to deadlines,
grades to degrees,
blown by the cold fall wind,
ambition goes blind,
numbers are collected,
rankings are published,
competitions are run,
starry skied summer conversations fade,
faces turn strange,
hearts get torn,
trust gets lost,
like a rain-soaked mitten floating on the Canal,

before we knew it,

The Program had begun.

Sunday, September 12, 2010


old paint fades,
old clock ticks,
old lovers separate,
old dog, old tricks,
old car sputters,
old drunk hums,
old guitar screams,
while the old drummer drums,
old lady shivers,
until the old furnace heats,
old boat sinks
while the old heart beats,
old sun shines,
dries up the old rain,
shines down on the old fighter,
fighting through the pain,

a poet is a fighter,
fighting with the mind,
sorting through the truth,
sorting through the lies,
pulling from the emptiness,
to make old words rise.

(photo by D. Neutel)

Wednesday, September 08, 2010

thy temple

sycophants, parasites, snakes and witches,
a shivering dog's coat matted with blood,
land fills, sewage, torn flesh, defecate,
an unemployed man vomits rivers of anxious bile,
regret, self-loathing, confusion, nausea,
a prostitute fills needle holes with poison,
a knifed punch, kicking, biting, cutting,
a elderly man suffocates alone,
failure, rejection, a nightmare, a virus
urban narcissism, suburban numbness, rural ignorance
the illusion of civilization,
the essence of fear, dependency and frailty,
a broken-hearted mother sits in a church and weeps softly to a silent
as her starving baby chokes on the crust of this rotten world.

Tuesday, September 07, 2010


bloggers meet,
under dim lights,
paneled ceiling,
bended taps,
bloggers discuss
amongst preoccupied waitresses,
hustled meals,
an ocean of voices,
bloggers leave,
with unaddressed topics,
unfocused accords,
suspended arguments,
bloggers walk
amongst youthful beauty,
homeless zombies,
leering cops,
bloggers separate,
drunk and unsettled,
into the listless wind,
and languid night,
borne of fractured memories and confused dreams.

Monday, September 06, 2010

eternal return (plus recess)

the sky gets grey,
shoes get put by the door,
lunch boxes get lunches,
school bus rounds the corner,
bike locks,
alarm clocks,
coffee cups for yawn-filled talks,
hit the weights,
get the grades,
welcome Sally, James and little Jack Horner,
waxed floors,
squeaky classroom doors,
hey, I've never seen her before,
bully the bully,
salute the principal,
the force of an idea,
makes the inevitable, invincible

fear meets courage,
resistance meets will,
traditional meets eclectic,
potential energy meets kinetic,

what's beginning,
is ending,
and beginning again.

Saturday, September 04, 2010

gonna have me some fun

They call me The Snake.
I'm a slithery snake man,
I eat bad food and wash it down with whiskey,
I ride the trains with Curtis Mayfield in my headphones,
I wear leather shoes,
and sleep in a rusty bed,
I got one glass eye,
and one that works,
keeps a lookout for witches, liars and jerks,
my father was a lion,
my mother was a dove,
they taught me stories about a devil above,
I buy cheap suits and keep a harmonica in my pocket,
a pusher tried to push me once,
I pulled his shoulder from the socket,
I step from the platform and into the street,
a bum and his mangey dog,
are the first I meet,
he shouts, "Hey buddy, gimme some change,
I gotta get a train to my baby, she's been acting strange."
I say, "I saw your baby and she's got a new man,
she don't need you no more you understand?"
He screamed, "Go fuck yourself!" as I walked on by,

The rays of a skyscraper sun were cutting through the city sky,

it was good to be home.