“Bukowski, in his grave, dead as hell
reaching for one last beer, and almost making it.”
Al Purdy?
A childhood so warped it could have led
to mass murder or a Bush cabinet post
leads only to alcohol, poetry
and mass appeal
Monthly Archives: October 2005
TROUBLE IN PARADISE
TROUBLE IN PARADISE
(Memorial for Alfred Huffstickler)
You were reading
at the Northwest Austin Borders
Lines I remember went something like this
“She wanted me to say forever, and so I
thought, why not, I have said forever so
many times before”
But now dear Huff, now that you have
stepped into forever
What will you say to all of them now
THE BUSMAN’S HOLIDAY
THE BUSMAN’S HOLIDAY
I think I’ve done it now
run out of places to hide
painted myself into a corner
surrounded on every side
For like every pilot
that ever learned to fly
I’ve got to help the captain
whenever I’m in the sky
All my time of thumbing
and a haulin heavy loads
links me with the Gypsies
that I meet along the roads
And if I look from side to side
at the lands along the way
why the farmer and the rancher
still within me want their say
Whenever I get to stop to rest
at any sweet Inn along the way
the years I’ve spent in running one
with constant detail mark my stay
And now I’m studying psychology
and the hidden parts of you and me
and prevalidation and master talk
and how one ought to walk one’s walk
Capped with the writers joy and chore
of finding a metaphor behind each door
ACT YOUR AGE
ACT YOUR AGE
I might have heard it first at six
when mother thought that I was acting three
And again at ten when acting six or three
certainly at sixteen, acting ten, or six, or three
There is the age that I am now
known as the age of responsible men
But there are those who know it’s just an act
the me’s of three and six and ten
THE NEW POETRY MOVEMENT
THE NEW POETRY MOVEMENT
Full Full Full
Pain Pain Pain
Pushing Pushing Pushing
You’ve done it
Good boy! Good boy!
No you don’t have to show it to daddy
or mommy, or me
Oh no
No, don’t play in it
Ah jeez, what a mess
FAIR BALL
FAIR BALL
So what
if my father
only came out once
to watch me play baseball
He was a busy man
I caught a hard line drive