Category Archives: Prose Poems

Fragment 71

to keep my optimism fueled for this thing. I still can’t tell if it’s working or not or if it ever will, but can you

it’s not the worst assignment you’ll get just wait until your task is repeatedly plucking the legs of various cicada from the gaps between their rotting teeth you’ll want to go back to blatantly secreting soil from the fingernails of fresh corpses before those hoards encircle the city once more fulfilling the prophecies that

really judge that standing in the middle of it? I’m still not sleeping very well. I think I might have to go back to journaling

wafted from the mouth of a lost puppet by way of the museums of mice who have feasted on the rusted flesh of a half-eaten apple in the dust of a reluctant decision gnawed on for twenty years which is whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer the bland job I neither hate nor love or bow to the boughs of trees the crowded subway the bass line of a new song deified in the sun-symphony of her hair her smile but can worn images steer worse to better the cards show no numbers no suits just your reflection in the mirror across the street beyond the sparse forest with darkness closing in to sleep

before bed. I did do an extra half hour of meditation last night and I think that did help me get to sleep. But then it was so hot in the bedroom that I was sort of tossing and turning a lot. And I think M was feeling the same.

softly beneath the black warmth of the legs of your horse the river talks loudly tonight and through its nature imparts a restless feeling to those who love to be astonished so we may once again make a claim on the portion of the kingdom we believe is our birthright but the verification process is tedious and it’s more often the other way around grasp it too tightly and it shatters cuts your hand and everyone at the party looks and I bought so many things that had to be indexed labeled filed maintained to feel some emotion in regards to consumer accessories my skin was getting better but yet it was not enough I could say that my plan was not quite world domination though I knew what I would have to do but one day the mountain carked

and ran through what was left of the town the people stood by as they had for so many generations and I felt the wind on the sand on my thighs looking for an escape well I might be busy that evening but we’ll see it doesn’t sound enticing but I can’t say that to him you know how sensitive he is about these things and it’s only now that he has found the tools with which to deconstruct the various elements that form afterward instead of watching the snowball

Fragment 58

should look at the NaNoWriMo project

for years so one day you may enjoy the feel of it in your pocket I suppose that’s the story isn’t it in some city of broken shells and unavoidable night work

and see what I feel about it

perfecting songs of pain gargling with gravel and when they wake the tender young ones scatter to the traditional winds

because of course I’m having some

though of course this is plucked from moldering magazines I found in the abandoned shack I can’t say whether or not we are quite so cruel today why do you ask oh I see that’s a fair point and maybe

doubts. I have been enjoying

you’re right my catchphrase could use some polishing

forcing myself to write more than usual

but in some tree is the bird that will steal back my girl

though. And there is a part of me

as it tangles its talons in her dark hair and we all laugh over the situation like in a commercial

that wants to see it through

hawking a subscription to an ulcerative colitis treatment but that won’t keep us for long

to the end. And there’s also

so let’s pretend we’ve done all that and go on alone we’ve had quite enough of that thank you very much so let’s enjoy these pastries and take an experimental drive through the local green I’m sure it will do us some good to get out of the theoretical and have

that part of me that wants

the warm ground beneath us no that’s not an analogy for whatever you have in your back pocket though those pants leave little to what little imagination I have

to have already given up and moved

that’s not crowded with ghosts demons blimps goblins wraiths widgets rebates succubi incubi gorging chupacabras mini pastries vampire guarantees windy and crypto boys kappa trolls blind meddlers not to mention

on to other things. I mean,

undigested bits of last year’s and last decade’s forced and corporate-mandated merriments and yes though it sounds and is tiring typically there will be half a moment in which

I feel bad that I haven’t really touched

you can run out the door into your shiny metal cube and disappear

into the clouds as is the style these days which of course implies

the sonnets in a while and

but let’s pause there and instead try to look sweetly upon them

I haven’t looked at my haiku. But I suppose

I can tell you they cherish the feeling of an insect crawling through their hair not that that detail matters I just fell in love with their elaborate vocabulary for describing these hirsute hijinks so perhaps it’s better to

you have to what? I guess I

investigate first and take a furtive shower later as they say then we can finally return those socks that were supposed to cure our bunions no I didn’t have hopes as high as I had hoped

Fragment 35

wanted. And I wanted all
the toys. There was always
some commercial or catalog

base of this house here you see where the original foundation was laid and this line is where builders had some kind of cozy dream 100 to 150 years later or it may have been a fire or perhaps something we have no language for or understanding of and so if you look and keep looking we can steadily unravel how the building grew from egg to newt through adolescence to senescence not of course quite the same as looking at an old tree its dependable circles always circling but perhaps like a person in that we do sometimes grab

that would feed my greed for
new garbage. And even if I had gotten
all of it, would I have felt any better? I think we

hold to the love of a season and bolt it on to ourselves hoping it might give us another internal closet a bigger bathroom a better view past those irritating neighbors from a tastefully ornate balcony but we also need to be aware of what we’re building towards and what our foundations are made of but yes maybe it would be simpler to keep the trees in mind and start the whole thing over from the roots or look at the growth of a quartz crystal if it’s a particularly dark day with some drizzle in which you want to

know the answer. And then I think,
in the past, when I’ve gotten something
I had desperately wanted the excitement

feel a bit of brightness at your core the feeling that you too could become someone on your chosen stage and when you speak people drop their phones and look in your direction maybe our example needs a quantum of precision in order to neatly fit in the hole left by the puzzle pieces whose homes we have already discovered the right void needs the right bit of the garden shed and that tiny edge of cloud that makes it pop and the deeper green of the grass in the background however we must start here in the mottled foreground

wore off quickly. So I don’t know that I can blame
my childhood. Maybe this is the way I’m built

where we stand and the simplest way to go about is sometimes all we need I think well no one likes a know-it-all and that fact has led to irreparable wounds and bruises yes all self-inflicted but what is it that you fear some unkind remark or the sound of nothing who can blame you but somehow we have to find a way to keep letting the world know that we’re here and still waiting for the secondary elaboration as promised in several recent communications so can we touch base on that first thing Monday morning please and thank you

or programmed or whatever. But no
matter what the cause, I have to face
and come to terms with it.

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Fragment 23

I want to take a break and I think that helps. One thing that’s been irritating me this week is a case of cracked lips.

why do you ask oh I see well yes that’s fair maybe that should be my catchphrase but in that tree no that one over there you’ll see the bird that stole a jewel from your hair you assumed you’d never see him again but that tiny hat is unmistakeable unless things have taken another strange turn in the woods I suppose nothing would be too surprising these days but you’re right we should pretend not to see him we don’t want any trouble this forenoon so here we come to the stone ruin the information plaque is badly faded

I think they got chapped or maybe sunburned? I can trace it to when we were eating outside at Valencia last weekend. I had the sun on my face for the whole meal. I don’t know if that’s what did it but that was the last time I remember not

but we can make out a date from the last century and something about a fire and a great experiment that’s mostly the story of all of our lives isn’t it if only there were something steady to stand on instead of these slimy rocks but then beneath they work day and night perfecting pestos and symphonies guarding eggs and their tender young they scatter when the rock is lifted though I know we won’t do anything quite so cruel today will we I can see that glint in your eye when you’ve had your last cup of tea and

the dog is curled up snoring beside you when the world seems a word of calm between breaths and pick up your book while we wait for the apocalypse that is taking its sweet time think of that person whose death will give you wings but if we don’t find that inspiring perhaps we can review the correct pronunciations of the latest drugs and open that box they asked us to keep safe and sealed what’s the worst that could happen of course it’s just a slight song from the dinky walnut deep inside your brain or deep inside the

forest which is the analogy we’ll use for your mind brain included at no cost though skip the extended warranty if you oh you have money to burn well burn away who am I to stop you I just feel so tired so unable to there comes a time when you think perhaps the rotten floorboards should be replaced before we lose another guest in a sudden collapse and have to clean the carpets yet again I know we should have dealt with it centuries ago but time being what it is and our hands what they are the moment

having a problem with my lips. I’ve tried to use some lip balm a few times but I don’t know how much that really helps.

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Fragment 13

that’s almost as good well maybe take my word for it until we turn the corner then perhaps we can talk more openly I’m not asking you to trust me completely just yet but here take this swamp sparrow and hold it in your hand and every now and then give it one of these seeds one forenoon it may want to fly then you will open your hand and make a quick motion like this yes that’s perfect but for now what it needs most of all is warmth and song in order to steadily face those challenges that

were placed upon its softness as it agreed to this world and yes we all have imprints of twigs from our first nests and some we suffer through like summer some we hope no one asks about and some pierce us so deeply that they but let’s not dwell on that you can see where I’m going and I’m sure you can connect the few dots that I may plot so where should we eat today I’ve heard good things about this burger place they have a decent vegetarian menu and the air is so pleasant it would be a

sort of single purpose or theme. I thought of doing one bit all about leaves changing color where I’d get into that image and name the colors in as many ways as I can. Or maybe start with the dog snoring and see where that theme takes me. I also

slight shame to eat anywhere other than under the sky sure it may be a bit of a romantic notion but on a day like today I think you can allow an old man an innocent indulgence and perhaps begin to but do we have to be so well no a few too many steps on the surface of a slippery metaphor but you shouldn’t take any metaphor too far though at the same time all of life is metaphor so you also have to take it far too far or much farther than you want then again you may

want to set up certain resonances throughout but also want to avoid getting monotonous. That’s perhaps a better way to think about it. This is why I enjoy the process of writing. I have an idea like this and I want to play with the words, try to problem solve,

leave it all here and walk away and no one will be the wiser and with the roaming lives we live who can keep track of half or it or hope to keep it organized in the luxury filing cabinets we have on our wishlist but two rules one at the beginning one at the end are never broken but between there’s plenty of room to improvise and dig your own trench and I meant to mention this before but those flowers aren’t for us someone will surely notice and press a button so we are chased off the property

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I’ve been cutting, editing, re-editing, cutting some more, massaging, threatening, coddling, encouraging, &c. this book I’ve been working on.

We’ve both been through a lot.

But I think we’re getting there.

Anyway, here’s a chunk of it…

we imagine our selves as rushing through though these crumbled things need their own slow time as a plant in a pot but in the forest from the slipperiest slime mold to the always hungry deer to the most sturdy studious generous genial old oak and all the families it supports the water that runs off the leaves through tiny rivulets rolling down over rocks and aerial roots to river arms and off out of our little story where I feel a need to prod and poke make my fingers dirty cutting and clipping grafting fertilizing in a place like

this self-publishing business is that you’re so alone. But I guess that’s true no matter what kind of writing or whatever you try. All the same, it is lonely and that isolation sometimes makes one doubt the whole endeavor and more. That said, I do believe in the work, though

this and for a purpose I should not speak about openly like digging up a seedling to check its progress let’s hope that the ground in me is fed well enough and that the wildflowers weeds and insects flowing up and out know to dance when the time is right for the red orange yellow paisley beach towel that’s now a blanket for the dog in bright autumn sun the breeze still with warmth rummages though the kitchen where pickles bubble to the front door where mail waits to be recycled the little table with keys dog bags and other

things to grab before one leaves next to the bench for shoes near the stairs where we hung two scrolls from Kyoto two tiny paintings from Queensland and two astronomical prints outside the bathroom which was recently redone and the tour continues upstairs but not into our bedroom where we have three walnuts carved with dozens of very small Buddhas and a somewhat dusty singing bowl the little nightstands we bought years and many apartments ago in the reclaimed furniture shop that closed down during the middle height of the pandemic did I manage to answer your question that time

sometimes I feel I’m still hammering out a voice and style. With my previous stream of consciousness prose poems, I’ve enjoyed writing them, but I’m not sure if anyone else was really interested. But I am intrigued by the possibilities of the form and sometimes it surprises me. The way

we followed him without a thought without a word despite the cold air and our unsuitably thin pants what else could we do the song he sang moved our feet swayed the trees the very stones but no that’s too much up and down and down and up through rocky mountainside the long way around skirting the boggy pond collecting the colors of leaves the tiny mushrooms on fallen trees despite the fragrant muck densely gathered on our shoes his song’s long melodies and intricate yet easy phrases remained pure in our unworthy ears as the stars swam before us

Here’s a very happy Friday excerpt from Fragment…

would lead you to believe I do appreciate it all and other times I can manage a laugh that wiggles out from under tons of earth in which I tried to dance but perhaps soon I can emerge though the soil is cool and cruel though maybe I’ll stay here with the low rumble of worms and voles in my ears and make a home no matter what they dump on top of me or how the plates collide one day this dump could be a mountain range higher than the Himalayas with me pressed between an ancient deli meat

Here’s another section from Fragment…

and our time is up so please throw the book mark away and reabsorb the book the queue for rebriefing will be on your right and the airlock two doors down on the left and you may enter there if you have the proper stamp but no we haven’t always been so formal you know back when the place was run by the gazelles there were trees growing in all the courtyards and curious snakes and lemurs feasting on the various fruits that dropped all year round while we learned the vocabulary if not the grammar of the mighty river

A special Samhain section of Fragment…

it’s certainly not the worst assignment you’ll ever get just wait until they ask you to pluck the legs of another cicada from between their teeth you’ll want to go back to using a toothpick to dislodge the dirt from the fingernails of our fresh corpses and find a way to harness that moisture before the reluctant clouds encircle the city once more as they slowly waft from the mouth of a lost puppet by way of the mouths of several mice who had feasted on the rusted flesh of a half-eaten apple in the dust of a reluctant decision