Monday, December 21, 2009


wrestling with her cart
the old woman tramps through snow
is she crying, too?

Friday, December 18, 2009


beep beep
in the small towns
the little cities
of the world
you sit at some café
or on some bench
and you rest your tired bones
and observe the people
who are always interesting
in their conversations
and the way they go about their lives
then a driver honks his horn
and everybody turns
looks at the place
from where the sound came
and you all can’t help but wonder
what just happened
what warranted the honk
who was in the wrong
who was it that fucked up
because as a species
through nature and nurture
we are intensely interested
in one another’s business

Thursday, December 17, 2009


haiku # 4
enter December
stage right with the lights down low
better bundle up

Wednesday, December 16, 2009


# numbers #
on the Electra 120
Jim Beam 80 proof
249 6754 is the number of an old license plate
that blocks the single naked light bulb
on my desk with 1 curse
and 2 orders on it, “don’t” and “do”
14 sunflower seeds
just put in my mouth
at 7:27 pm
33 minutes ‘til work
5 hour shift
20 dollars an hour before tax
$92.35 after
29 years I’ve been alive
plus 5 months
and 5 days
1 more shot
makes 4 today
1 year ago
in Austin, TX
I was 3 sheets to the wind

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

HE TRADED ME HIS SOUL FOR A WHISKEY AND WATER (and now he wants it back)

he traded me his soul for a whiskey and water
(and now he wants it back)
while I was tending bar one night
the Kid had gotten drunk
and without any money
as was usually his situation
he offered me his soul
if I would give him a whiskey and water
I might have given him the drink, anyway
him being a friend and all
but it seemed a good opportunity
the investment in a thing
which is said to be invaluable and eternal
so I gave him the whiskey and water
and acknowledged receipt of his soul
but because I was very drunk, too
I quickly forgot about the trade.
eventually the Kid reformed his ways
been sober now for a long time
and he wants his soul back
it comes up often in our conversations
he’ll be talking about something
and then say, “oh, by the way, about
my soul…could I get that back from you?”
he claims it’s beginning to shine again
that all the layers of filth and muck and sin
are melting and dripping off
and that someday soon
it may have some real value. of course
the Kid is in it just for the money
the dirty, little punk
so when he brings it up I laugh
and sip at my beer
shrug him off, thinking
if my liver doesn’t give out first
it’ll be nice to have a spare soul around

Tuesday, December 8, 2009


sacred desert
it took me less than an hour
to pack my things
and head out of town
Las Vegas
that mindfuck in the desert
but then it took me
more than two hours
of bumper to bumper
to get past the Hoover Dam
and down onto 93
which was open and free
open and free
just like the surrounding landscape
and I hauled along
thinking, “goddamn beautiful.
it’s so goddamn beautiful out here.”
the ageless one shop towns
the faded billboards
retreating back into the earth
the scrub and broken rock
the dry air and the blue sky
the valleys that sink beneath you
and the mountains on the horizon, which
if you ever reach
will slice you open
a place as pure as death.
then my friend calls me
on my cell phone and I answer it
but don’t say, “I can’t talk
because I’m driving.”
instead I say, “not right now, man. I’m
watching the desert
pass before my eyes
and it seems to be something very sacred.”

Friday, December 4, 2009


after waking in the morning
I get out of bed
and hit the bathroom
do a piss and a shit
while flipping through a magazine
that tells me how I should be eating
how I should be exercising
how I should be fucking
and what clothes I should wear.
then, after getting up off the toilet
and washing my hands
the only thing left for me to do
to start the day off right
is look in the mirror
and laugh in the face of madness