The Light

DON'T GO INTO THE LIGHT
I shout
to the unapproving stares of relatives
as my grandpa lies dying
Don't Go Into The Light
I've seen moths do it,
and the results are not desirable
And besides there will be time later,
the light aint going anywhere
The light has always been and always will be
So take your time and haunt this world
Never mind the well intentioned living,
who urge you on
They'll have their time

Alex

Alex has been calling me lately, or rather his voice mail has.
“Hi, this is Alex. I’m calling you through my voice mail.”
His voice is calm and soothing.
I probably owe him money.
I don’t know because I always hang up.
It’s a policy and one must stick to policy.
The United States of America does not negotiate with terrorists
And I don’t talk to machines

True Romance

She farts in public
I say "sorry, excuse me"
and I take the blame

The Comedian's Creed

My humor will not cater to the lowest common denominator
My act will not be made up of one-liners and cheap segues
My take on improv is that it’s little more than a cheap parlor trick
No fat girl jokes

No shock jock, morning radio DJ humor
No political, topical, hot button ha has
No fart jokes

I can’t stand comedy magicians
I won’t do impersonations
I do not juggle, I have no props, I’m not wearing a costume



Knock Knock

Someday

Someday

I’ll write you a love poem

And I’ll manage to contain

My excitement

And refrain

From calling you from work

And whispering sweet words

Just out of earshot of coworkers

I’ll leave it on your pillow

And let it start your day

With a reminder, that I am so thrilled

Everyday

Because you are my girl

Pants Don't Fit Me Right

As my head sped toward the concrete

My life flashed before my eyes

Just as I’d heard it would

But the scenes were not of my first love sitting in an empty apartment wearing white

Or of the pain as she drove down that ally for the last time

There were no scenes of the hirings and firings that had dragged me up and down the ladder of human accomplishment

Not a single image scrolling past held the face of my dear sweet mother

I was confused by image after image of various tailor shops I’d passed

My cloths, hairline and posture reflected the decade

Taylor shops have always looked the same

Friendship tailor on 16^th, Alterations while-u-wait in Los Angeles, The Tidy Tailor in Portland Main

I would never have believed that in one lifetime a body could have passed so many tailor shops

Some I remembered, having walked past them many times in my daily grind

Others were forgotten shops I’d walked quickly past, my thoughts not on my hem-lines

I inquired into the strange collage of tailors passed when I later had the opportunity to chat with The Creator

Though I suspect he was more of a department store Creator

On of The Creators “helpers”

Like Santa, he has many

He told me that the great slide show of death shows the dying only the defining moments of their life

And as I stared into his steel gray eyes I didn’t need to hear another word

Understanding flooded into me

Pants Don’t Fit Me Right

I never had the figure that pants on the rack were meant to adorn

Nude, I did not appear particularly unique

It was all a matter of inches

My ass started an inch to high

My pelvis tilted forward the slightest degree

I was a body in need of a custom fit

But I had not considered myself the tailored type

I’d aspired to transcend the vanity of those who spend their time and money on getting the perfect fit out of their trousers

My energies were spent on attempts at bettering myself

I read the important books

I watched my diet as best I could and jogged whenever I’d been seduced by a pint of Ice Cream

I worked hard and kept my eyes open to opportunity

Men with a better fit shot past me toward the executive offices

I turned my attention to my extra circular activities

I wrote my stories, and poetry

But I was never the darling of the café scene

Those with mannequin-like physiques stole my adoration

Men who’d developed a friendship with the Friendship Taylor had better adventures to write about

They’d been invited to taste of more passion,

had been let in on the secrets of every bar, beach and dark ally

Women, slave to the Darwinian impulses that govern us all had not been able to get past this defect that they were not even consciously aware of.

The sloppy way my pants hung, unevenly from my faulty waist had advertised to all “UNSUTABLE FOR BREEDING”

A bright neon sign, flashing on and off, all my life

If only I’d known

My Girlfriend is Gorgeous

My Girlfriend is gorgeous

With long luscious hair

She wears tank top tees

With low slung pajama pants

And she makes Iced Tea

Jackets

Every time someone dies I get a jacket
I’ve got more jackets than I can ever wear
From uncle Joe’s corduroy to Grandpa Eddie’s leather

If they go to heaven I pray it aint cold there.

I’ve been to my fair share of funerals
I’ve seen my relatives aged and bereaved
And though it makes me feel guilty
I’ve eyed all the jackets I’ll soon receive.

I Love Your Face

I love your face

When I can’t sleep

I’ll look at your face beautiful in sleep

When I wake up

Yours is the first face I see

I look at your face beautiful in that half dreaming morning daze

When you talk

Your full lips telling me of your strange nocturnal adventures

Your eyes widening

I look at your face beautiful in that state of wonderment

When we lay together in the afternoon

And your eyelids are half closed

I run my finger along your cheek and across your lips

I look at your face beautiful waiting to be kissed

(for Bryna)

I have an abnormaly large forehead

I have an abnormally large forehead

I’ve heard all the jokes, like;

“That’s not a forehead that’s a five head”
six head

seven head

Eight head ha ha ha

It’s been this way since I was a kid
In those days I looked like some kind of freak and people either thought I was one of those brainy child prodigies or they figured I was retarded

As an adult people just assume I’m balding
I preferred being a retard.

I Don't Go To Parties

I don’t go to parties
I only like large crowds when I’m on stage
Well lit, with a microphone in my hand
I know what to say to them
I know what they’re looking for
I give it to them
or I don’t
Either way, they leave
I go home
I don’t go to parties

Three Line Poem

How wonderful that
You’re caring for me and treating me sweetly
Has given me a sense of nostalgia for colds and teeth pullings

Fucking Neighbors!

I had not heard the neighbors having sex in some time
Then
Late last night
Or maybe early this morning
Something woke me
I was startled
At hearing any noise
So close
While the world remained
So dark
But then I recognized that wonderful happy sound

I listened for a moment
And then turned to press against your back

I wrapped my arm around you, kissed your neck and fell asleep smiling