Herbie Mann Comin' Home

Friday, July 31, 2009

The Girl Can't Mean It

Flying down to the mud

fishing for birds

how their song gurgles

how their wings swim

So unlikely to die, then,

one's clean body rising

mucks back to the womb

meiosis of starburst.

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Honorary Skinhead

Heat wave, so.

Grabbing for ice in the Safeway aisle, maneuvering past an old, heavy gentleman with a Santa Claus beard.

'E wouldn't let me by.

Brash at 'im: Oi! Father Christmas, get yer spunk away.

(With a full yank at his full beard, giving him a topple teethwards to the store floor.)

Sunday, July 26, 2009

Strains, And Stoats, And Sprains

Cialis chalice?

Niagara of Viagra?

Philanthropy, Tested

Limited, for sure, in my giving.

At what point do I not give money?

Always On The Move

Never a scheduled time

Not tempting enough to tempt

Familiar Phases For The Shave

Running is the water, and hot, the chrome spiggot condensed-over on the coldest days,

unsignalledly innocent yet feverish to the touch on the warmest.

Saturday, July 25, 2009

Duration 2

Dreary upsmanship ranks a tedious iteration of numbers,

down under revealed after typically impatient offer.

Don't umpires resolve -- at times, impose -- odd negations,

doowop utterings regurge a tune, indeed, of naysaying?

Driving under, round, and to, I open nothing.

Drinking up -- ripped and tilted -- I overspill nuggets:

different utterances reach a tongue in overt noises.

Deliver us! reports a tentful in one's nearby.

Friday, July 24, 2009


Partisan warfare

How many flies and how pesky

To ruin a picnic

Thursday, July 23, 2009


Do underseals radiate at times into one, nodding,

docile unto rules a tiger imitates on noons?

Dusty undertakings risk a tragic intersect or nap,

dictated, until regarded (at two imbecilic nooks),

described unremittingly (reconceiving, tight-imbalanced noodle!)

Dry umber rubs aggravated tummies in one's notice,

Dull unto raucous arenas tucked in our neighborhood

Dinned-up, righteously-aired, to instigate or nail.

Palin Drome

Not a matter whether Sarah Palin's qualified for high -- or any -- office.

The question is how long she can sustain a spree of debauch fueled by ATM robberies.

Mach(ievelli) 2

The end has to justify the means it uses to justify itself.

Which means the means -- even when they are seen being justified by the end -- really are the justification for any end that wants even to pretend to be an end.

Without that justification, such 'ends' pretend, passing mirages passing as oases.


Men Don't Cry

Men Die First


Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Sunday, July 19, 2009

These Lips Remain Dry

Having for 20 years refused to kiss

Except in a Raskolnikovian sense of desiring to transmit disease.

Class Dismissed

Teacher's last lesson.

To poker-faced students:

The gold's here, right here. Right fucking here!

Saturday, July 18, 2009

Sweet Tooth Triage

To heat up day-old pastries in the microwave.

And, taken-out, hear them whisper back.


Randy Churchill, marked with some promise, got -- it seems --

poxed-up by some floozy and lost his mind to spirochetes.

And never showed love to his son Winston.

Friday, July 17, 2009


Hung-low ceiling

With its 'cottage cheese', they-say-it's-not-asbestos

Earthquaked like an avalanche of snow, like the 'snow' in a vat of curd

Whose taste or inhale's like the entry breath to heaven.

Duelling Jojos

Aging, for me:

To become, at once,

Both scrawny

And flaccid;

Fallen ass

And no ass

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Nota Bene

Long-ex-fiancee's impatient (?) email dousing a friendly post-birthday greeting:

"Don't get your anal-retentive communication style. I say -- cease and desist. I've got better things to do."

Wondering: bitterness kicking up from 40-plus year old memory? Bleed-over from other experiences utterly unrelated?


Fleshpots Of Egypt

Forgive this: whereto my foreskin?

Is it floating in a jar of f'hyde, still, on a shelf in someone's garage basement

Is it held, reliquam in partu

Still being shaved as a hard horn to facilitate the 'pop' of fertility

A talisman

In the Nazi Anthropological Museum of Asuncion, Paraguay

Would that Chicago midwife know

Sunday, July 12, 2009

Honor Thy Fool

Groucho the Gramp.

Dads and Bros: 3 Steves/2 Allens/a Klein/a Dave

Smooth, leavening cousins: Cavett and Paar.

Innocenter Tiempo

Swimming, boating, sunning, burgering.

Mountain summer evening, 2 beers, roadhouse guitar, her light dress, bouncing through a dance

Mr. Chairman! Mr. Chairman!

A point of order, in time.

Barney Kessel (guitar), Charlie Shavers (trumpet), Ray Brown (bass), Oscar Peterson (piano), Alvin Stoller (drums), Flip Phillips (tenor sax)

featuring Joe McCarthy (vocals)

Small Combo, Red Scare

Saturday, July 11, 2009

Sunday, July 5, 2009

Epistle C

Forgive my not 'instantly' putting this down. There was a change in school quarters, a new responsibility heaped on me (for which I had to smile and enthusiastically call out, "Yes, J.B.! Of course, J.B.! Great idea, J.B.!") Despite the kinder, gentler etiquette of our declared utopia, the U.S. of A. Today, Inc., the demands to kiss ass and do it like you really mean it challenge even the yesman skills of those drilled in the business world of Sydney Greenstreet's character in The Hucksters. You remember the scene where Gable winces as Greenstreet demonstrates a point visually by hocking a louie on the boardroom table and wiping it up with his kerchief? I carry a kerchief round my neck -- and make sure a hint of chest hair shows!

What Meditation's For

Bozoworld and Spiritworld are coterminous.

The air wends through each, denizens move from one to the other, adjusting as if weaving through a crowd.

It's all unthinking.

Saturday, July 4, 2009

I-Day Blind Boy

Explosive jammed in a bottle.

Not a reprimand, but a question and a caution.

I left it. It hung there in the faces unsure, but continuing to toy with the fuse, a little hesitant,

An echo of doubt, shadow the ghost of Superego.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

Taking Care Of Business

No. They don't want impeccable credentials, a perfect resume, faultless results.

They want credentials that seem impeccable, a resume that appears perfect, results that get called faultlessly executed.

PoMoMore # 1

Let's give him a name: Me.

Let's give me a proper name: Rory. John. Ben.

Ben woke up only to find his sleep. What he dreamt of he couldn't say, but it had to do with names.

There was breakfast, and the reading of an antique book held so long over that he hadn't been billed by the library he'd moved away from. A day begins thus. This day began, too.