magic trick

i always laugh when people try to sell me drugs on the street
powder, pills
need some rock?
as if i don't have enough problems already
there's a juggler out there
i stole his ball
he stole my pride
not a fair trade at all
he winked as he rode away
knowing i couldn't catch up
but if i did...

the music was still ringing in my ears
pulsating
throbbing
all the way down hennepin avenue
the dogs barked
and the police yelled racist remarks over the megaphone
but the juggler
he was out of sight
on to the next carnival where he could perform tricks
slight of hand
who is he fooling?
not me
i got his ball
let's see him put on a show now

people littered the streets
waiting for the rain to wash them into the sewers
a large man smoking a cigar stood outside the strip club
making sure no one snuck in
there's nothing in there you can't find on the street
i want to set up on the corner
perform my own magic show
juggling a single ball
people would stand in amazement
and the juggler
he would watch as people cheered for me
jealousy would enrage him
i would call him up for my finale
and take the ball and hit him over the head with it
as he lay there bleeding i would take a bow
then maybe we'd be even
...maybe
lucky for him he performed his disappearing act
lost in the city
nowhere to be found
not in the bottom of my glass of beer
i checked there five or six times

still the music radiates
like a sirens call
i want to give in
untie me so i can be free
free to sink my ship where i may
free to leave it all behind
free to live in obscurity
...free to be

untitled

i crossed the bridge over the river on my way to a dive bar
the crowd was thin and the music loud
deafening
the bartender was an old man,
a shell of what he used to be
evolution was not kind to him
neither were the two packs of cigarettes a day
the smoke in the bar lingered
like an evening fog
unflinching
the alcohol burned going down
a young couple in the corner looked out of place
they faced each other when they talked
and she wore his hat while he played pool
it was almost as if they enjoyed being around each other
i stared at my drink through the haze
the flashing neon signs colored the room
first red
then blue
patriotic indeed
i scribbled some nonsense on the back of a coaster and then threw it out
i stumbled into the parking lot
but the smoke had already spread out there
i lit a cigarette and leaned against the light post almost as if i was the only thing keeping it from falling
we both needed support
i walked down to the lake
i watched as the sun set upon itself
creating a line of fire piercing the water
a single stone is all it took to shatter the sky
the sun crumbled into a million pieces
then disappeared
i went back to the bar the get a 6-pack to bring home
but it was closed
the smoke outside was suffocating
it wasn't until i turned down the road to head home
that i realized the smoke wasn't from the bar
i saw the remnants of the bridge as it collapsed and tumbled smoldering into the water
i lit another cigarette and watched the world end

"no more"

I used to go to school
I took classes in writing-even some in poetry
But one day I screamed "no more"
I couldn't sit in that class with a broken clock for one more second
Surrounded by people all to willing to study Pound & Elliot to no end
Three sessions on a two line poem...
I have my limits.
I hope Pound is happy knowing that people still study his work like that
when there are writers who say what they mean
and are able to be more direct about it than he was willing to be.
Educated poetry for the educated man is a hell of a corner to write yourself into -Pound!

I used to write for a newspaper
I used to walk around with a pen, a notebook and even a funny hat
But one day I threw my hat out my window
Everyone looked for something that wasn't there
Watergate at every board meeting, and corruption in every town hall
It was sad-and funny-and pathetic the way they believed the world was anything but boring and lonely.
Nobody likes to be bothered with reality anymore.

Now I work at a school with children
they don't listen to me
I teach them card games and we play for candy
We do homework and draw pictures before they get picked up by their parents
Sometimes I hide in the corner and read
I imagine all the things I thought I'd be doing in life by now
All the places I'd see and people I'd meet
I want to throw my book down and watch the building block tower crumble to pieces,
leave, and never look back
But they are just kids
They are ignorant and don't know much
They don't know enough to know any better

Nobody asked for this

Nobody asked for this
Nobody simply wished to be born,
and was obliged
It was given to us
...forced onto us

-Forced onto the janitor who spends his nights cleaning up after people
that are too stuck up to do it themselves
-Forced onto the farmer who can't feed his family
because engineered food is more cost efficient
-Forced onto the homeless man who spends his nights on the street
singing songs for a nickel or a smoke

Nobody asked to be...
Yet by some strange happenstance we were,
are,
and continue to be

When death unavoidably touches us
we mourn
Children cry
Holy men pray,
but how can they be sad?
How can they mourn the loss of a life that no one ever asked for in the first place?

butterfly

while hiking in the woods i happened upon a creature unlike any I had seen before
I knew it was a butterfly
but it was much more than that
it had luminescent green wings
and as it flew time stopped
it rested a few yards ahead of me and i had to get a closer look
I approached slowly so as not to scare it
at a closer look i got lost in the interweaving patterns
on its wings
like an abstract painting it only got better the more i studied it
greedily i took another step towards it
and off she flew

i meant it no harm
but all the same it was gone
i waited there for hours
hopeful it would return
the patterns on the wings i once studied were lost in my mind
the luminescent wings had now been extinguished
i returned to the very spot every week for fear it would return
and i would miss it
you can't just find something as radiant as that
she finds you

yesterday it rested on a branch just a little up the path
i know it is the same beautiful creature i laid eyes on once before
not by the look, but by the feeling i get when i look at it
nothing else is in focus
i wish to get a closer look at her
but am reluctant to make the same mistake twice
any view is better than no view
but the intricacies of the wings is beyond my gaze now,
still
it is not my intention to frighten her
into flying off
again

Dream #1

last night i dreamt i was a kid again
around the age of seven
which is ironic because i don't recall much of my adolescence at all
aside from the yelling and the fighting
after a snowy night
i remembered waking up at sunrise and listening to the radio to see if school was cancelled
and playing outside when it was
i looked forward to my birthday and christmas
in ways i can't imagine now
i remembered visiting my cousins on christmas eve
and falling asleep on the car ride home
i haven't spoken to them in years
on new years eve i would try so hard to stay up until midnight
but always fell asleep before 10
i was always falling asleep when i was a kid
now i can't sleep
everything was so easy
so simple
nothing ever mattered then
the way it does now

Lakefront Property

a lingering sadness lives
with every open and close of the door
feasting
moving from one end of the room
then to the other
pirouetting
no one is immune
the darkness hides the eyes
only exposing with the incoming headlights
like film they are ruined in the light
everyone feels
it
those who say they don't,
feel it harder
with every drink
the rotted teeth throb
hoping
praying
the poison takes control
gasoline will never put out a flame
in a place as dry as this
nothing can

like all good fires
it gets worse before the tide washes in
the full moon is never more than a month away
some stumble in the gravel
destined for the road
recoiling in the terror of the night
retreating to the dumpsters
their fire is about to spread

for those left standing after the inferno
the sun rises
the damage cannot be undone
but learned from
the prairies thrive in fire
they are tough
the weeds though,
are not
they will not survive
and will end up decaying on the ground
or behind the dumpsters.
when smoke settles
seeds sprout and spread,
a new element absorbs the land
-life-
it cannot-
-will not
be held at bay
the flowers flourish with an exuberance
once thought to be extinct
it will remain
only until the weeds return
and the air grows dry