The Lingering Lemon of Death

the closest thing to a hopeful poem i can write today

my wife read the poems of yesterday, and informed me that i was way too scary. but i'm not as depressed as it seems, even though i wrote all those poems out of a set of true emotions.

here is my explanation.

the blessings of valdez

oil spill
anointing

to rectify
chemical wash
and steam cleaners
erasing

the photographers are happy
and the crew moves on
a job well done

but the spill still seeps
infused into substrate
unreachable without destructive force
beyond the ability of technology to erase
it keeps coming to the surface

the annointed will never be the same
it will always
secretly and slowly
show itself to be that place
where the oil spilled
the annointed one

and, today's bonus poem ...

beep

small miracles lay eggs and build nests and fly around my house singing to each other they banish silence and bring a peculiar peace this morning when they started to sing it sounded exactly like my computer confirming my keystrokes with the crows playing the role of the error buzzer and so i had to stop and remember how to hear sounds that are not generated by my actions that are not requesting my input that are not even for me a commuter train blowing its horn as it crosses some intersection a garbage truck, pneumatic sigh as it comes to a stop a dog barking so far away that it is a wonder i can even hear it a hammer telling knock knock jokes with no punchline another, further away a circular saw screaming a siren, i whisper a prayer a jet, wiping a roar across the sky and the birds, confirming nothing but their own existence

notes from a meeting

was in a very long meeting today, and i saved myself by writing poetry.

this poetry should not be read as criticism of the meeting, or of anyone that i work with. long painful meetings are an ugly necessity when things are too complex to just "do the right thing", and any human frailties outlined by these poems are mine too.

these are all the same length because that's how much poem fits on one sheet of provided-by-the-hotel notepad paper that i was using in the meeting to write on while i was trying to participate in the meeting.

playing chicken

The troops stand in a perfect line,
shoulders blending into a single textured form.

The general smiles, reviewing the troops
and asks for volunteers.

There is a pause,
a beat,
and in a precision almost inhuman,
the entire line takes
one, synchronous step
backwards.

Too bad they were standing backs to the chasm.

Vagaries of aerodynamics
break the unity up
into flailing chaos.

But they are all welcomed
by the ground.

engineer's requiem

Oh my fucking God,
this train is going to fucking crash.
There are 100 yards of track left
and the desert flies by
in a blur of speed unmeasured
as we rush
to plow into the sand.

The inspectors argue
over the quality of the steel
in the shipment of spikes
they are planning to order
for the doomed track building crew

... who can be seen
crossing themselves
and wondering
about the quality of the afterlife.

consequential matter

A strange gravity descends
and my limbs lose all mass.

While my brain experiences
jovian weight.

Unmoving mind resists pressure,
avoids implosion.

Limbs inconsequential,
brain in stasis essential,
a third self is somehow illuminated
by the gravitational gradient.

But all I can do is weep for my brain,
and laugh at my limbs.

doom lunar

Here on the moon
where atmosphere is only implied,
somehow
without oxygen
life seems to go on.

Bringing doubt
in the utility of hope

or

fear
that since we seem
to be moving without oxygen,

we are not really alive at all.

a good day at the office ... lost coffee mug

i love my co-workers! a coffee mug was lost, and this mail went out:

Subject: Lost Coffee Mug
To: All

It looks like the one in the attached picture.
If you found it, could you please return it to me?
Thank you

many funny replies ensued, this was my favorite ...

Subject: RE:Lost Coffee Mug
To: All

I, likewise have lost a drinking vessel, a simple carpenter's cup,
 but of great sentimental value. Any sighting, please tell me.

i was the evil mug thief for the starbucks mug, i had found it in the "generic cups" stack and had grabbed it one day and never returned it. rummaged around in my office, couldn't find that other cup though.