Ex-herd animals 

This morning—

I positioned myself 

between his ears

(way past wake-up time)

got my head 

behind my dog’s puzzled head

looked out over his

got his view of the world, and said:

Go on, boy! 

Do something new. 

Something else.

Something different. 

(After that, both our tails were wagging!) 

Budweisers,

Alzheimer’s, &

Christmas Eve

It’s so much easier now 
that my mother doesn’t even know 
who I am. 

In my good old childhood days she’d feed beer

into her mouth, it'd go through her head,
wake up her dad, then she’d aim those eyes 
right at me
those dumb dull darts. 

Drinking beer by the cases. 

Tonight, when she looks over at me
just like when she was drunk

though her aim is off
she sees nothing
those eyes empty  

as pillow cases. 

The woman never was nothing but 
a stocking stuffer. 

It's a happy new year.

2 mothers, no father—
no waiting 

My dad died in London
bang overnight; that was quick 
I was nothing but a baby, though PUCKISH!
dad had said in a letter
a couple of months before this sudden bang, and gone.

Then, my mother and sister turned around
together, like a fence I'd have to get through
and looked at me like I'd broken something
maybe him, and I knew—even a baby like me—
that it was going to be a long haul.

I guess I just stood there on my two-year old legs
trying already to stand my ground
with this woman, or mother, who'd gotten lucky
two years back, and this sister (who'd come about
in the same way, seven years back) and whew!
I said in that spot, wiping my baby brow;
I knew I was about to be unlucky.

There, in London, in my family of orgasm.
I couldn't wait to get away.
I'd be running for years.

I still feel criminal sometimes when I get happy,
or a little peace.

Walk, don't wait, to the nearest exit.

Stick a pin in the Sun

The man was so mad at summer

he began to wear red and yellow coats 

and black corduroy pants, against the sun. 

See that? he said to the sun.

Aren’t you hot? everybody said to him. 

He said he was sick

of being smothered

day after day after day

by the predictably tedious sun

not to mention watching the family outings; 

he wanted to get away from the get togethers; 

summer’s over, he said. 

And, he went on, I don’t like the Beach Boys. 

Anyway, he went on some more, it’s Halloween 

and that cold is so refreshing. 

They scolded him, but he said—

You know I know 

that the world doesn’t revolve around me, 

but I do need it to revolve within me. 

That cold is so refreshing. Or, 

I’m just used to it.

At night, the lunar snow will be his nightlight. 

Salem

I have many Witch friends too, now. But it wasn’t always the case, 

and I fumbled a few social moments; there were some faux pas. 

In Boston, in 1984, I was at a New Year’s Eve party, flirting 

with a woman in black hair and purple everything else. 

She was smoking, I wanted to, I was into menthols back then—

I asked her for a Salem. She looked violent for a moment.  

If you lived here 
you’d be home now

Jesus wasn't what I expected when he finally came by

in a red corduroy suit 

driving a matching red MG sports car
yelling—Alright, everybody out of the pool!

Being Good Christians, we got out
dried off
asked—What's the matter now, Jesus?

Well, I'm ok, he said, but God is very incensed
literally
watching your rituals down your church aisles
smoky with deferment and depression—
He's even got His inhaler out. 

Now, wait a minute! we said—still in our inner tubes. 
Jesus went on:

We're worried about you guys
looking all around for God, or me, so listen—
Drop it. Knock it off, look
where you are! It's beautiful. 
Take off your watch and listen 
to yourself ticking. 

Drop the Bible, drop Heaven,
drop your thing called Facebook, 
drop your parents approval drop 
your teacher's grade, your boss through 
the floor, and the next door neighbors
you think are watching you. 

We see (from On High) that it starts early

worrying about good grades

best team

best school

best town best country

best actor

best-seller list

respect of your peers

respect of your community

biggest funeral, everybody 

laughing, crying, missing you forever. 

You seem to think it's all important

maybe even fun, and maybe it is, I can see that. 

Probably God can't, He's a little stiff sometimes, 

but what if that kind of success doesn't happen?

So go on, I dare you, drop the hilarious joke of success. 

Isn't it really, not much? 

So Jesus, one of us shot back, bouncing
up and down on the high dive board,
what is important? Nature? Love … all that jazz? 

Jesus got back in the MG and turned it on,
radio too. 

It was Charlie Parker. 

Yes, he said, and all this jazz. 

And, the next full moon—full WHITE

making the rest of the sky deep sea blue;

or the next Aurora Borealis you might see; 

or the deep blue sea (and the Devil, we like him too!);
acts of cheerful sweetness out of the blue 

by strangers deep in the countryside—out of gas,
stuck in the snow, or deep in the middle of a city—
stuck in a room; strangers on a plane, talking
through the clouds, through the night
about anything but success; your deep down
creative desiring instinct, and don't question it; 

not to mention the feeling in your bones 

and on your skin, next time you're out of control 

with laughing—notice that, do that, it's all yours.
So, be in the moment, not the monument. 

(Oh that's a good line, Jesus said to himself,
writing it on a pad and throwing it in the glove box.)

It's not that it's important, he finished up,

but that it's free, all over the place;  

not even made in China. 

Get it? laughed Jesus, revving his MG.

I'm funnier than my dad, he said, 

already in third gear, then

already gone. 

Expatriate from 
the patriarchy 

I never really ran with that gang anyway, 

always was sort of a lone wolf. 

And if women run with the wolves,

I’d say I was raised by them.