Goat Busters

         So the Cubs lost.  It has only been a hundred years.   

         To all you haters out there:  keep shootin' moose from a helicopter.

Back In the Land Of

     Obama and the Cubs...

     Lake dip babies

     Ketchup-less Hot Dougs

     Zambrano

     Deep dish skyline

     White boats on green lake

     Buckingham river

     Daley Trees

     White moths West

     LSD Navy Ferris Wheel

     Green Mill Bean Industry

     

     Lighthouse deep house

     Old Style old school

     John Hancock blues

     El Loop

     

The Shame

For Emily Dickinson

When next you feel the shame

Because you lost the game;

An insult to your name,

Rejected from the same--

Recall that you are you

And others, themselves, too;

So best not misconstrue

Conclusions others drew.

Or those that they will draw

For @*$#!--the fatal flaw

Of interest in the jaw,

Incredulous of awe--

Is when the money comes,

And you still feel like crumbs,

And catch the dreaded numbs

And over-favor thumbs.

For fervor favors few;

And when the justice's due

Is when the judgment comes--

"Do you have change for ones?"

Mis Quince Anos!

  

      Es mis Quince Anos!  Y Los Ositos barrieron Los Sux--Que bueno!  

LA

               I used to live in LA.  And I went there for a visit over the weekend.  And a flood of memories returned.  

               I remember the first time I saw palm trees.  And ate a real burrito.  And saw the ocean.  And the mountains and smog.  

              And the new age flyers.  And the muscle beach boys.  And the cabanas; the year-round outdoors.  And the cults and psychics.  The coyotes and brushes.  

               It's nice to know it's all still there.  

                

Hex Flix

The other night I had a dream about a possessed vacuum cleaner.

In the dream, I was watching a movie about a possessed vacuum cleaner.

Then, I looked out the window, and in the distance, saw the same possessed vacuum cleaner pass, swiftly and silently, through a pastoral setting, from right to left.

Then, the vacuum cleaner passed by again, from right to left, this time closer; And again, from right to left--closer still!

It was like one of those still-cam, time-lapse shots: clouds passing, light changing, etc.

I turned away from the window, and the possessed vacuum cleaner was right there, in my living room!

I ran to the front door, opened it and went outside.

There was a flash!

Then, I saw a inde dude with a huge beard and shades with a camera in his hand, standing aside a large black box.

He had just taken a picture of my fearful reaction to the possessed vacuum cleaner!

It was like a weird horror version of Punk'd--Like Net Flix, but equipped with an inde film team at your door.

Hex Flix!



Note: To all you Freudian readers out there, please hold your interpretation that, by dreaming about a vacuum cleaner, I suck!

Urban Scrawl

        For the last man.

        When you, o'er whelming--

        You, the BK Bridge

 

        And the moon

        Is out

        In full force

        Even tho

        Thou be

        Annihlist.

       

Hijacked by Joe Wimpster!

       So last night I was out drinking with my buddies on the UES/ The Slope and I ran into this chick named Lecy.  She said I would write about my night in my blog the next day (today) and that when I did it would be f*@kin boring.    

      Me:  Oh yeah?  You know what's boring?  Taking like a 25-year-break from blogging!  

      Lecy:  I guess that means you've had to take like a 25-year-break from hijacking. You know how I hate to inconvenience you.

      Me:  I was hoping maybe you got run over by Bret Michael's tour bus or something!  But I guess you've just been a total lazy-ass.

      Lecy:  Right.  Um... Wait, what's your name again?  I can hardly remember, it's been so long...

      Me:  Ha, ha.  You know my name, Lecy!

      Lecy:  Germ?  Go?  Go--Away?

      Me:  It's Joe!  God!  Don't be such an a** hole!

      Lecy:  Wow.  Sorry, I just had this weird feeling that I was talking to an aging Jonas brother.

      Me:  Screw you!  You didn't even say "hello" to me when you saw me at the bar!

      Lecy:  Oh.  Yeah.  Seriously, I didn't recognize you with that new facial hair thing you're rocking (or not rocking, as the case may be)...

      Me:  It's called a beard, Dumb A**!

      Lecy:  Funny:  I just saw a missing cat flyer on a pole outside and I thought...

      Me:  You know I always have p***y on my face!

      Lecy:  Ew.

      Then, my smokin hot new chick-friend came over from the bar and handed me my beer!  

     

      Me:  Thanks, Banana Bread.

      Lecy:  

      Me:  Lecy!  I'd like you to meet my awesome, new chick-friend, Loden!

      Lecy:  Isn't that like a J. Crew pant color?  

      Loden:  

      Lecy:  Um.  Hey there, Loden.  It's nice to meet someone who can actually deal with Joe for longer than 3 to 4 minutes.

      Loden:

      Lecy:  Nice white pumps.  Beacon's Closet, Williamsburg?

      Loden:  Yeah.

      Joe:  Now there's no need to be jealous, Lecy!  See, Loden, Lecy's had this thing for me for awhile now...

      Lecy: The cat's out of the bag!

      Loden:  I know, Joe.  You read me the blog.  After you read me your journal and showed me your new headshots and played me those rockin tunes you wrote on your guitar.

      Then Lecy made a horribly un-chick-like retching sound!  She must've had too much booze--The Booze Bag!

      Lecy: (coughing)  Mousetatouille, Mousetatouille...

      Me:  What the f@*k are you talking about?  It's RATtatouille!  

      Lecy:  Did you say "rat?!"

      Me:  Oh, no...

      Lecy:  Hey, Loden! What did the rat say to the mouse?

      Loden: 

      Lecy:  Let's have bad sex for three months and break up!

      Loden:

      Me:  Don't mind her, Loden.  She's just jealous that I met someone special!

      Lecy:  It's like you're reading my mind!

      Me:  And that once again, I'm out with my buddies, and now, my hot, new chick-friend--and she's, again, alone!

      Lecy:  I wish.

      Me:  No you don't!  You missed me all this time.  Admit it!

      Lecy:  Did I accidentally slip you a GHB at the bar?  Cause I was aiming for the fellow's stein to your left... 

      Me:  Admit it!  For now until the tests of time!

      Lecy:  ?

      Me:  You've always had a thing for me!

      Lecy:  Wait, I just remembered where we were that first, fateful night we met.

      Me:  The Turkey's Nest?

      Lecy:  No!  I was in the movie theater, watching Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Next Generation.  Weren't you in the the Leather dinner scene?  Gotta go!  Bye Tom!  Bye Jerry!

      Me:  Wasn't that Matthew McConaughey?--I'll take that as a compliment!  

      She left (thank god!).  Then me and my buddies partied till dawn.  And yeah, Loden was there, too.  And these other hot chicks.  It was rockin--anything but boring!  I'm the m.f.in man.

       Joe Wimpster

     

Perceptiony: A Fairy Tale

 

 

     Once upon a time, there was a mad cool lady named Perceptiony, who lived in a castle in industrial Brooklyn.

     One beautiful, Spring day, Perceptiony was at the Brooklyn Botanic Gardens, meditating under a cherry blossom tree, listening to the koto. 

 

     Suddenly, the earth shook--the ground cracked open before her!

     When she awoke, Perceptiony found herself in the depths of Hell.

     Before her stood Hades, Master of the Underworld.

     "What?--I was just at the--!"  Cried Perceptiony.

     "Chill out."  Said Hades.  "You'll be here for awhile."

     "But--NO!  Um... Don't I get a phone call?  I need to call Socrates--"  

     "No."  Said Hades.  "There's really bad reception down here."

     "Why am I here?"  Asked Perceptiony.  "What did I do?"

     "This isn't a moral quandary,"  Hades said.  "It happens to everybody at some point--Especially in the Spring."

     "But here, if you must make a phone call, use my celly,"  offered Hades.

     "Oh, I have the Coven album as my screen saver, too..." Said Perceptiony.

     Perceptiony dialed Hecate's cell number.  

     Hecate Answered. "What."

     "Hecate!  It's Perceptiony!  I'm in Hell!"

     "Me, too," said Hecate.  "I'm in the Hell studio.  And I have seasonal allergies."

     "Me, too!--Why are we here?  What's going on?  It's Spring!"

     "I know,"  said Hecate.  "I'm wondering the same thing."

     "Have you spoken to Bathory?"  Perceptiony said.

     "Yes."  Hecate said.  "She's here, too.  At the Hell office.  We'll get together soon and figure this out." 

     

     "But I don't understand!  It was such a beautiful day..."

     Hades took the phone from Perceptiony.  "Time's up," he said.

     "What happened?"  asked Perceptiony.  "Why am I in such pain?  Everything was going so great.  I was writing about persistence and strength.  And now I'm here in the darkness, suffering..."

     "Who said life was fun?"  asked Hades.  "I thought you were a Cubs fan."

     "I am!  But they're doing so great this year, and..."

     "There's still the Bears in the Fall."  Offered Hades.  

     At this point Perceptiony began to cry.  She thought of all the beauty she had experienced in the Spring.  She remembered the joy she had felt up on Earth's surface.

     "Why do you want to torture me, Hades?"  She asked.

     "I don't." Hades said.  "I'm actually an integral part of life.  There's a dark side to every joy, every sense of beauty.  I'm here to remind you of that.  I'm your guide through the suffering."

     Glancing out the window, Perceptiony spied four young ladies walk by in floral dresses and pumps.  

     "Where are those ladies going?"  She asked.

     "The Sex and the City movie is opening," said Hades.  "It opens in London, then Hell, then New York."

     "Oh God!" Perceptiony cried.  "It's the same down here, isn't it?"

     "Sort of."  Hades said.  "But here, you have to forego your routine and surrender to nothingness."

     "Nothingness?  Isn't that like death?"  Perceptiony cried, frightened.

     "Yes.  Something like that."  Said Hades.  "Now I will leave you alone for awhile." 

     Then, Perceptiony was alone in the darkness.  

     There was a howling wind and sheets of rain came down outside the window of the barren chamber.  Inside, on Hades' HD TV, the Cavs took on the Celtics.  

     Perceptiony paced around, thinking about how and why she had landed there.  

     She wondered if other people had, too, landed there, and assumed that they had.  

     She wondered about the future.  About hope.  About humanity.  And, in doing so, cried a thousand tears.

     "I surrender!"  Perceptiony cried.  "You win, life!  You win!"

     After what seemed like months, Hades emerged from his library, wearing a smoking jacket, holding a pipe.  

     "It's time you gave the Cerberus a walk," Hades said.

     Out of the library, the terrible Cerberus appeared, drooling, fangs exposed.    

     "Here, take these three plastic bags to pick up after him," Hades said. 

     "Okay,"  said Perceptiony.  "But maybe you could help us upstairs with our natural resource situation, Hades!"

     And with that, Perceptiony took the leash, and started walking Cerberus through the sidewalks of Hell.

     As they walked, Perceptiony found herself becoming as angry and savage as the Cerberus, cursing everything in her path.  

     When at once, everything began to have a light glow about it.  

     All of a sudden, beside a park, Perceptiony saw Socrates and Biggie Smalls standing there, chatting.

     "Socrates!"  Perceptiony shouted.  "Biggie!"

     "Yes."  Replied Socrates.  

     "Another everyday struggle."  Offered Biggie.  

     And the three friends walked the Cerberus into the sunset.

         

Poor Uncle Tom, Good Night

     For Eight Belles

     You heard the crowd sing "weep no more.."

     As you were led out to the green,

     Past columned stands, white and pristine,

     Into a narrow corridor.

     The gate was freed and off you tore--

     Your hot hooves galloped in the gleen;

     Your muscles moved your gray coat's sheen.

     When suddenly, amidst the roar

     From wide-brimmed hats, cocked from juleps;

     You, head bowed and back legs bent--

     A cool breeze swayed the tall, red tulips--

     Fell victim to establishment.  

05/04, 03, 02, 01

       Sitting under tree,

       Pink, paper blossoms above--

       Is this suffering?

       Here for harmony; 

       Maybe Buddha had sake,

       A cold Sopporo.  

       The koto sounds like

       Little player piano, 

       Rain falling on wood.

       I forgot the sun.

       Did Buddha need SPF?

       Remember the sun.

 

Mindful Of

    The scale's axis;

    the core, the heart,

    the gift of humanness; 

    on the lean days, in the off-season--   

    weathering those potholes in the road, 

    the waves that rock each and every boat.

    We must carry on-- 

    and not let such things overtake us.

    We must load our guns and aim

    for the target's center--and fire!

    We must seize that chance

    in the face of fear;

    We must be strong while in despair; 

    Adhere to some rules and break others;

    Explore the liminal and struggle;

    Transcend the discomfort; unearth the pain. 

    Make peace with who I am vs.

    who I want to be vs. who am I?

    Forgiveness!  We must persist!--

    and know alone-ness.

  

    And think of others, newly 

    and honor those before us;

    And, doing so, recall the ones

    that got away:

    The one who still breaks free 

    from the tenuous history;

     

    and furthers endurance, survival 

    of one's own tribe--in the truest sense.

    And know tragedy

    and our sacred idiosyncrasy.

    The fittest--Diversity!  

    The true definition of progress:  Being. 

 

    Tomorrow, another shot at consciousness. 

    Open to the inevitable next lesson--

    A leap! of presence, humility, wisdom--

    We must persist!

     

Spring Ode

      For Keats

      

      The rain fell, and carried with it petals

      Which cover sidewalks, pavements wetted gray.

      The pigments, pink and yellow, boldly splayed

      Along the path, promote a stroll's abettal;  

      Each step and breath awakes one to one's mettle.

      For who can stay asleep at Spring's display,

      And worry on and wander on one's way--

      When blossoms, yet to bloom, remain unsettled?

      While one may forget the colors in one's wake--

      And stare in wonder at the leaves' aplomb,

      It seems the trees are banked upon a lake, 

      Their canopies, reflected in the calm.

      

      

        

      

      

No Change In...

       No change in chance meeting.

       How are there

       Expectations, desires.

       Silly mystery,

       Blissful Folly--

       Hope it won't go.

       The dream, realized;

       Fate-rebellion, 

       River drifting...

       Further complicates

       Divine joys--

       Divine moment following.

    

4/21

    Drinking Moon After

    The Rain.  Little bird on small,

    round plate.  Little spoon.

    

    

Back-n'-Organized!

   The Pope's in town for Passover.  And you know what that means:  All out religious war!  So come on, get out there and give a flyer for your team.  Tibet's not involved and Oprah's gone Buddhist...right?