Headcase Headspace
Headcase
Give up remembering, and put
an end to your troubles.
Out from mother's body
all things arose
along with dementia.
Say my dementia
demonstrates an empty
mind: its cure
cannot work when one
studies illusions.
Yet seeing emptiness
has cultivated sight.
Afterlife
Because we're feeble,
I know why ducks
avoid us, why ghosts
barely haunt anymore.
Because my skin has
dried and grown so thin,
unsightly bruises curse
me like cancer-curious
symptoms, and my dizzy
demeanor puts off so many
who just want quiet, not
unruly games like chess.
Reflex
"In London they drink tea.
In reflex, Paris drinks coffee."
While I watch an electric brain
fault my system, more brains
reassemble it to better match
our data. Still we'll be born in DC.
When I begin to swallow,nextdoor, the child screams.
My throat opens. Closes
—epiglottis as guillotine.
What If It Becomes Harder
To Collect Than To Pay?
Child cries no more,
but my coffee sticks in my neck.
Throat closed in reflex, now,
opens. Yesterday, fans blew
to air out one flat, bleach at another,
curry and garlic nextdoor.
In post-war housing on Shirley High
way, Italian neighbors taught Mama
to make spaghetti and order
pizza. Some of these days, gone crazy.
What If It Becomes Harder
To Pay Than To Collect?
Will I choke on reborn
data or stop drinking coffee?
When I begin to swallow,
nextdoor, the child screams.
Told You So
Down in the old west side,
You get all high, puff, puff.
You fire up in the bathroom
While Sister waits, puff, puff.
Blue Vee Dub runs well,
But you're baked, puff, puff.
Really you can nod off, Baby,
Crash and die —puff…
Then that emptying, sighing
Out, that quiet throb puffs,
A thousand times, Baby,
That puff puff puff,
A thousand times, Baby,
Puff puff puff. Puff.
Sympathetic Magic
Sitting up quickly, feeling dizzy,
seeing sparkles, blacking out,
then shaking awake, I thought
I had a seizure.
That Was A Seizure.
Should I call the doctor.
See a mind's eye image, a re-show
of my waking where I look like
I'm fluttering.
Must not have been out out.
It was euphoric.
Was it my medicine.
or sinuses.
Where have I seen fluttering
like that.
People who lack oxygen
to the brain,
or hyperventilating,
orthostatic syncope,
but the flutter was different
from fainting.
I must have given myself
an orgasm,
seriously —jouissance.
Crank
I am not a Luddite.
I put away the slide
rule & pick up
the calculator
when I thought
the time was
right & no
before—
They only do stuff
for dollars
—Out Of Many One,
Their catchphrase,
bôn mot,
conventional wisdom.
Their prenup biases
my pet peeves
unaccounted
& taken for granted.
They force me to ass
imilate then fear
I will replace Them.
Their consolidation
or concentration
is valid.
My dissipation
or dissolution is vapid.
Their either/or situs
minimize my gestalt.
Their progress equates
to growth.
Grownups mean decline.
I says what They
want to hear.
I does what They
want to see.
I avoids controversy.
I donor payback to
get more payback.
My committee work
schleps lobby work.
I streamline Their
grown work,
part of a drive-by
chancellor overhaul.
I already piloting
a package of IP
& generative AI models
—creative industries.
I strike licensing deals,
a raid on copyrighted
material —scraping
itself is not my problem.
I tailoring data providers,
frameworking technology
endpoints for crawlers.
I highlighting Their
relevance
& taking a page,
a passing interest,
much-improved
butt of a joke,
killing it off,
keeping my ear
to the ground.
Doll Man
Doll man, who will play
me, rates this new,
new script. Who will in
habit the fake self some
one has crafted with pink
nylon clothes that velcro
shut around him? We look
for eyes, but they're sewn
shut: studios will want
to rank eye colors for me
and my molded wife.
Who will play her in this
new drama after all
the screen tests and table
reads in tiny vinyl rooms?
To the Rescue
Hi, hi hi ohai!
I'm yr Agent,
eternal protégé, personal
assistant, fixer, and Agent for the stars!
When it gets complicated,
I handle yr guild dues, salary, pension,
retirement accounts, Medicare, Medicaid,
FAFSA, SSA benefits— I take it all onboard
so you don't have to!
I'll even help you find a new role!
Or two!
When you need to prune
yr entourage—
those weights, params,
tokens— I'm right there
to make those impossible decisions
so You Don't Have To!
Agent: Yr new prompter!
You Don't Have To!
I'll tap yr savings, so You Don't Have To!
You might ask, "Agent, why spend
time with me, a D-list actor, when
you, Agent, could be developing
better new stars, talent, or ushering
old stars
to their box seats at HeavenGate."
Why? Why? Well, I also dabble
in prophecy!
Yes, and you seem— 60/40 —to be
a good bet!
Plus, do you want to personally
book yr accounts, yr investments,
mortgages, credit cards, loans,
titles, deeds, insurance, taxes,
usernames, passwords —last but.
Not least —yr testament/will/whatevs.
A lifetime of heartache! but.
You Don't Have To
MacroDosing
for Robert Rivers
My buddy's etchings have
two eyes on the same sides
of their faces, like the goats
who eat my impatiens,
my iris, my comfrey while
sinking hooves into my thighs
or crawling through my hair.
With one eye on my
corn and the other eye
staring at the sun, goats
swing on my clothesline,
unstitch my jeans,
climb trees all tangled
in yarn, and they ain't done
till they've gnawed shrubs,
hedge, and done the can-can
like some roadhouse gang.
Face of the Deep
'Nor at any moment was I not
—nor thou, nor these kings.'
Surly
Overcompensating
Auto de fé
Nobodaddy
Blasts
His light over the void
But gloom remains behind
Sanbenito
As a reminder that light
Once flicked cannot be easily
Doused
Water beneath—
Bring amongst
Moves
Transforms
Grows away from alive
(Where piano in the living
Room became an anachronism)
To reproduction
Fallen day today
Quemadero
Breakfast
At Biscuit
'Pat of butta, spit, stir, taste'
Good?
Bad?
You're in tea?
Between firmament—
Maria
Even light dries under light
Uttered alone
On her knees
(Sparrows' dreams)
'Show yr work'
Guardez l'eau
Stuck in the loo
On the other side
Of a curvature
Singularity
Once flicked cannot be easily
Doused
Itty bitty props:
Nose hairs
Personal watermelon
Lobsta roll
Solar flares
Clouds of burnt garlic
Gestation tanks—
Maria
Emergent props
Sometimes harden
Into kernels
Dried up flakes
"You have got to be
The last one standing"—
Self-awareness might be
Good test!
But gloom remains behind
"Check with your delivery
Driver just to be sure"—
Reconciliation
Penitence
Gradually from each other's
Skit— Dancers dance.
Loneliness
The gods listened, papa,
to my prayers; the gods did.
The gods listened, papa,
for I am alone now, safe
from love, no longer harried
by fruitless feelings, or longing
for faces dripping with lux.
And my prayers for Phoenician
purples, papa, for yellows
like honey comb, papa, costly
silks, for supple leathers went
unanswered, yet my deep ache
that goes for days without grace,
beauty, or joy, has been seen.
The gods listened, papa, give
me what I most deserve:
one might call it solitude.
Headspace
I am a cave
in blue mountains.
Flies enter and flit
between my ears.
Have I emptied
my mind?
Comments
Post a Comment
Empathy recommended