Hierophany

Dreams set on recycle
  Rinse, but not quite repeat

Corner, cornea: my eyes seem askew

Lost in mazes of my sub-
  Basement; flooded by torrential tears

A race is on but I overslept.

Step by leap by bound,
  I try to recover

If a penny was collected by
  Charon I’d be an unconscious
Millionaire and happy to remain
  Forever in the deep

My home is swiftly gone
  And too soon, however,

I am alone and awake.

This entry posted by J Rand : 09:00

1
     I could’ve gone

to see Pound while he was
still in the hospital.
But my mother-in-law hates him
     and it would’ve killed her.
So I just let
           the crazyman be;
     him & Fords,
     Jags, Land Rovers, etc.


2
One of the
           must-read poets
     said he couldn’t write
           with stubble on his chin;
     called for
           a holiday for writing.
In other words,
     a good time
     to swear off coffee,
     not to get too gassed.


3
                        Ezra Brooks
bourbon you say you
           were drinking.
But why then
     do I smell lime
     on your breath—
I am not a teetotaller,
     not a prohibitionist. I know

     there is no cuba libre for whiskey,
     none for fascists the world around.

This entry posted by J Rand : 11:11

i
grass blue grass
and green on the hill
one an artist has seen
memorialized, made famous
protected & infected
who sides along it now as a creek
wishing he’d be quiet
before trickling into
the reservoir


ii
blue skies, blue skies & holy
cumulus not beset
by even an ipod as it gathers
          water to share
with the terra cotta village
stuck in song below


iii
danger signs danger
           old train
sheathed   in graffiti res.
rhine races the tracks
all the way
                to Köln.

This entry posted by J Rand : 09:05

The CNN International guide to graphics.
How to lose friends
(in 10 days)
w/o trying.
Petraeus tries to persuade us
w/ numbers and graphs
Question marks and unclean spikes.
You know what Twain the junky said.
Persuade us, betray us.
Joint committee puff puff.

Petraeus wears a military toupee.
The heckler i.e. the citizen
of constipated viewpoint
(when WAS the last election?)
(and did I sleep through it?)
Oh yes, the heckler
will be escorted
says old Ike Skeleton
chairman
and chief speech mumbler mumbler
cookie crumbler.
What is the state of al Qaeda Iraq?
the fifty first state...

An hour into Petraeus
and WE
oh yeah, the people
have nothing
null Ø
empty set
empty and upset
empty and on the loveseat
passed out and pissed off

The heckler was our oversight
One voice for a nation numbed
by the neo-doctor's prescription
of confusion and deadlines
re-elect me in the morning.
The heckler said

Just when exactly will these troops be removed?

A question that cut like glass,
and that the brass
saw right through.
Again mr. skelton
the skeleton
instructed that the democrat
(small d, i.e. the unimportant kind)
would be excorted from the room
arms flailing, flip-flops dragging
against the war-worn marble floor.

Rubber screeching against marble
That sound...

That was the Q & A, the T & A
the AT&T—
the anti-trusted FAQ.

It had to be broken up.
One heckler is two too money.
The democracy is alive,
dear prophet.

Another heckler discarded.

This entry posted by J Rand : 18:45