Monday, May 29, 2006

Soon Enough, The Keening Will Stop

Soon Enough, The Keening Will Stop

The blue jay chick, whether flushed from the nest
by starlings or merely lost his balance, one of the edge’s

inherent risks, fell to the grass. I could have saved him.
He fluttered his unfledged wings and hopped through

the weeds while his parents swooped, diving at me.
They shrieked and shrieked as if this tragedy

was all my fault. This is the helpless sound a mother
makes, keening and keening a name when she loses

her child in a crowd. I wanted to run to the baby
and scoop him up. I wanted to cup him in my palm

until I could tuck him in a box. I wanted to make
a mock nest out of twigs and leaves. I wanted to hand-feed

him. Instead, I stood on the patio at dusk and watched
as the infant wander into the shadows of the forest.

Friday, May 26, 2006

literary virtues & vices     [epigram]

For the upstart everything has levity
bit by bit it all becomes passé?
a poem having the virtue of brevity
can hazard vices undoubtedly outré

The Company Pen

The Company Pen

When I clicked the company pen,
I did not know it would fall apart
in my hands, that a spring would meet

the lady in the hallway and shake
her hand, that the ink would spill
on my new pants--my leg, my arm.

My boss walks by with his coffee
and grin, says:

"Looks like you've made a mess!"

This is when I look at the heavens
and instead of God, a sprinkler.

Properly, I bow to the shiny garden hose
above my head and pray for his baptism—
the father, the son and the holy ghost.

He walks off, while the lady in the hall
Kneels to pick up the projectile
That recently fondled her breasts.

Meanwhile, a war breaks out in South America
And a family is forced to dig their own graves
Before being shot, and covered up.

Kerry James Evans
time, in quantity,
is irresistible.

often dissolve
into unnoticed breaths.

the more I
see you,
etcetera. . .

not voice
alone, communion mis-revealed

in granules, perhaps
revealing something

repeats morning,
early frost dissolving.

Thursday, May 25, 2006

The Blind in Parade

Demodokus wandered
into the survey group
far from his native time
and place. He sat
in an empty seat and
listened as the moderator
asked questions of each
about shaving creams
and aftershaves. When
his turn came, he sang
through tired air
a lively tune about
Briseis along the shore
with hair glimmering
and war raging
just miles away.

They did not pay him
or ask him to return.

Tuesday, May 23, 2006

Shaft Apprehended [Theme from "Shaft"Isaac Hayes]

Who's the black private dick not a friend, that sex machine
to all the chicks?
Lucky them. Shaft, that's him, damn right

No way.

Who's that man, not growed -up , might risk
his neck for his brother man
or not..

Sounds good, that's Shaft
dig ?


That cat won't cop out or wake-up with danger all about ' cause
he's in for himself
surprise, he's gone.

That Shafty.

this cat Shaft's a bad mother-- that poor guy,
but.. we just shut our mouth, shut up and
Figure it out.

Because we're talkin' about Shaft, dig.
Sure thing.

And he's complicated, like shaft types are
So no one understands him but his woman
no one else can, good thing too

Why is not that lonely sweet.

So is that John Shaft there, and don't

He can't see you, or hear us . Sure now?

Right on.

jds/ May 2006

Monday, May 22, 2006


Hello, everyone.

Glad to be here. I just signed up at Didi’s invitation and want to thank her for asking me to do so. Although I haven’t posted at any boards for probably 2 years now, I often stop at café café as well as other sites of interest to me in order to read quietly and keep myself up on what’s going on. Meanwhile, like the rest of you, I write while attempting to understand the world we live in.

I just set up a Blogger page. It isn’t, however, my real site and only exists to redirect people to that site, Unburials: The Writer as Graverobber.

For those who are interested, I presently have work online in the current issues of Avatar Review (interview as well as poetry), Pemmican and Rough Road Review.

I look forward to being here and becoming acquainted with people.

Robert Bohm

Going for a Walk

Where are your shoes?
Under the bed.

Will you show me love?
Yes, but first, let me get my shoes.

Kerry James Evans

The way you speak is like sky to me

yesterday is
a sleepy dusk

likenesses that flow
in a single river

we delight
in slight changes

in ever being in the past,
the far and close pull of time

Sunday, May 21, 2006

techno babble mumbo jumbo made easy

is now available for anyone that wishes to follow along.....

Friday, May 19, 2006

Summer Love

He's a complicated man
But no one understands him but his woman
--Isaac Hayes

Ladling water, he cools
his throat. She's under
the apple tree in her
brown apron.

He hangs the ladle
on the nail above
the well and walks
to her. Hands and eyes
and grins and an apple.

He bites first and tastes
the added flavor. Lovingly,
he swallows the worm.

Thursday, May 18, 2006

Poem in Your Voice

Poem in Your Voice

I want to button my beautiful body
to your lovely yours
until we don’t know whose bluejeans
outline our deaths on my floor.
I will be
finally alive
in all your ticklish spots
and occasional freckles,

And you will become a little more of a man,
and I will parade my new girlishness,
and baby, we will both become newborns,
all red and screaming,
covered with milk and wonder.

And we will suckle at the sky,
and suck the ocean air until we’re salty and blue;
we will rename all the stars
and see things in the clouds
that are better than Van Goghs.

And then I will tire of this set of mysteries.
I will toss a coin for just the right day
and unzip myself from your sweet pie skin.

You see, my life is a somersault, my sweet;
I’ve enjoyed our playtime but I’m in search
of things like God Himself.
I’ll be off to find the tenth planet
with its rivers and rings.
I’ll send you a piece of it,
or a postcard,
and my new moon girl will lick the stamp,
when I find it
and all its eleven moons.

Masks (CTG)

Which mask shall I wear today?

Will it be my kindly mask, the goofy, "Aw shucks" mask?
Or will I wear my evil mask, my chainsaw-roadkill mask?

I'm feeling sick today, think I'll wear my Mister Yuck mask,
tongue lolling out, oh hell, oh Lord, poor me.

Or maybe I'll wear my awestruck, singing mask, la la la,
let me just sing in praise of masks, please.

The candle is burning down and you wonder which is me,
which is really me, which mask is me.

Should I tell you? No,
I'm the thespian, I'll let you guess. . .

It's more fun if you don't see the real me. . .

Do I love you? (As I put on my lover's mask.)
Yes! You know I do as angel wings flutter by!

Sweet butterfly, let me taste your honey, Honey,
oh honeydew, you know I do, I do, I do!

Ah, but don't ask
what mask I am wearing now.

Christopher T. George

Inspired by "Personality: This Little Light of Mine" by artist Don Michael Swartzentruber. To see the link, hit the link through the title.


(from my forthcoming book: "primary reader")

you were outside
for so many hours
& days & it
turned to snow &
you froze to death


Wednesday, May 17, 2006

Henry’s Elegy For John Shaft (No Relation), Black Marine KIA

“Who is the man that would risk his neck
For the brother man.
Can you dig it?”

He went off to Iraq to fight
for the freedom of his fellow man,
he died trying.

He went off to Iraq to fight,
to keep the country free, what country?
He wasn’t sure.

“Who is the man that would risk his neck
for his brother man. Shaft!
Can you dig it?”

Yeah, dig his grave, brother!(in the hood these words are heard)
He’s a dead motherfucker,
they say this cat Shaft is a dead mother.

Black man, brown man, dying for the rich man.
“Who’s the cat that won’t cop out
when there’s danger all about.”

Don’t know, but he got the shaft.
The sex machine to all the chicks
buried by gullible lyrics.

He went off to fight the war in Iraq,
thought he was coming back,
didn’t know he was a sacrificial lamb.

Yeah, he was a complicated man (ain’t we all?)
and only his woman back home understood,
but he won’t be coming home like he should.

Tuesday, May 16, 2006

"Absent from the menus"     [boomerang poem]

The evening with its vacuum cleaner hums
the season's game thermometer continues
I've given up on figuring the sums
too daunted by the talons & the sinews
vichitra vina's rare in local venues
but balderdash is popular with drums
are choicest items absent from the menus?
the evening with its vacuum cleaner hums


For Joe Green; from an exchange today (in Comments on Ron Silliman's blog). Regarding the business of "schools" of poetry and warring factions, etc., Joe wrote: "Who cares? Write one good line." The above attempts a suitable reply.

Henry’s Elegy For Stanley Kunitz Dead At 100

July 29,1906-May 14,2006

I saw Stanley Kunitz in his garden,
he was growing rocks and birds,
he pulled a word out of a worm’s mouth.

He looked to be a thousand years old,
he resembled a hunchback
or Yoda or my abuela.

He’s in the garden digging up poetry
like potatoes, like carrots, like stones
warm to the touch,

the history of the 1920’s still boiling
in his hands, still unchewed in his mouth,
the surrealists roll around in his eyes,

Vachel Lindsay, Carl Sandburg,
Kenneth Rexroth, all walk
in and out of his garden.

The Confessional poets make their confessions
to him and pass on,
the language poets utter nonsense and disappear,

the New York School of Poets closes,
the San Francisco School of Poets closes,
but Stanley’s in his garden,

digging up poetry, planting poetry.
Stanley’s in the garden ravishing Eve
and Eve is ravishing him.

cue 1

powered by ODEO

Sunday, May 14, 2006

"Who's the cat?" [Shaft challenge doggerel]

Who's the cat that won't cop out
when there's danger all about?
who's the mouse that won't cave in
when there's cheese that one might win?

who's the bird that won't rest still
when there's pie upon the sill?
who's the fish that's not deterred
by the fear of cat or bird?

who's that human hardly cowed
by the barking fierce & loud?
who's that dog who won't sit quiet?
humble pie's not on his diet


this by way of hello (from cafe cafe newbie);
it will be noted I took liberties with the
basic instruction -- incorporating in lieu
of epigraphizing. Arguably the former is
a species (or -- well -- a kissin' cousin)
of the latter, yes?


Saturday, May 13, 2006

A Cat Named Shaft (Shaft Challenge)

Who's the cat that won't cop out
When there's danger all about?
Right On!
--Isaac Hayes

A male cat struts to the blare
of a golden trumpet and an Afro-
beat, past the motorcycle cop
on the street near the bar,

then right on toward a hot female
cat. He leads her toward a backyard
fence, right on past a backyard
brawl—right on!

As a trumpet blares to an Afro-beat,
our cat yells out, “What’s this danger
all about?” The lesser kitties run and
hide. But our feline hero walks right on

toward a burglar with a loaded gun.
Then bang! and bam! and a human’s
dead. But a male cat and his woman—
arm in arm—go into the night,

keep moving past a trumpet
blare, keep swaying with an Afro-beat.
“Ain’t no danger ’bouta stop me, girl!
Otherwise shouldn’ta named a cat Shaft!”

Thursday, May 11, 2006

Spread the Love.....

Hi - ODEO has a new feature that allows you to put a whole show console on your blogs/webs.

Here is an example of what I am talking about:

Or look here at Lowel’s Blog:

Or resize like I did on the left column here – turn your eyes to the left.

Simply stop by THE GOODNIGHT SHOW link on ODEO.

Scroll all the way to to the bottom of the page. You will see at the bottom of the page:
Put this Podcast on your Web site

Copy and paste the code at the bottom of the page on your blog/web and your visitors can now listen to all the episodes and as I upload new shows, the console will be automatically updated. Is that cool or what?

You can do this with a variety of shows I am currently producing. Here are some other podcasts.

Grace Cavalieri's INNUENDOES

Amy King (interviews, readings, etc)

Ron Silliman

MiPOesias Magazine

Sawako Nakayasu: 21st Century Ant

and more.....

Have fun.
Thank you,

Tuesday, May 09, 2006

But His Woman (Shaft Challenge)

But His Woman (or: Green is not the Color of Jealousy)

He’s a complicated man but no one understands
him but his woman.

--Isaac Hayes

Even sans pronoun, his ownership’s implicit.
Always mine. Never hers. God forbid the collective.
Every object he lays his hands upon: Animal,

vegetable, mineral. Ten questions: Is it woman?
I spy: White car (that he bought) in parking lot
of motel he’d never get caught dead in. Second question:

Is it lying on a dirty bed? I spy: Curtains drawn
and Do Not Disturb sign on knob. Third question:
Are its legs spread? The games like his possessions

blend together at this point. Backlit, shadows kiss,
door open. Unlocked. Can it sense the slightest
movement? Full moon, too bright. Can it hear

him breathing? Hard. Red. Everything is red.
A hunting knife reflects light. Is it still alive?
Body of woman, like a deer, slit open: His.

Monday, May 08, 2006

Epigraph Challenge

Yeah we gots ourselves a new little ole challenge here --- No one (as far as I know) participated in the last challenge I had up which was given on one of the episodes of The Goodnight Shows. So I am scratching that idea.

Here is the new challenge. Pick one of these stanzas from the lyrics by Isaac Hayes (sound track to the movie Shaft) and use it as your EPIGRAPH. Not sure what an epigraph is or how to use it in poetry? What's the matter you ain't got google?

Okay here goes. Pick one and only one as your epigraph.

Artist: Isaac Hayes Lyrics
Song: Theme from Shaft Lyrics

Who's the black private dick
That's a sex machine to all the chicks?
Ya damn right!

Who is the man that would risk his neck
For his brother man?
Can you dig it?

Who's the cat that won't cop out
When there's danger all about?
Right On!

They say this cat Shaft is a bad mother
I'm talkin' 'bout Shaft.

He's a complicated man
But no one understands him but his woman

There is no deadline. Poems will be considered for something or other.

Oh and I suggest to get you in the groove you listen to the soundtrack yourself. Stop by here if you want to take a listen.


a cross the field

/ i see my neighbour jenn
bent over
her 2 young children
play ing in the sand box

ah / eternal position of the woman /
bent over
it's no wonder we grow old with curved spines
broken backs

spent years / bent over children
bent under lovers / /

& i wonder why
my soul begs / break
free from this shell of
life / /


Among Other Organs

Among Other Organs

I’m not waiting up.
I’ve already confused lust

for dusk more than once.
My eyes, among other organs,

are old and tired.
There’s nothing ironic

about the phone’s silence.
If you tell a person to fuck

off, they usually do. I’m not
waiting for you. The midnight train

has already cut the night in two.
Through the screen, wafts honey-

suckle and clematis. Darkness
smells so sweet, I have to shut

the window. I’m not waiting
up. I took an allergy pill.

If the phone rings,
I’ll be asleep, dreaming

of pollination. Bees don’t fly
at night. Neither should husbands.

If someday I pass you on the street,
forgive me if I say nothing.

Saturday, May 06, 2006

Some advice on what to keep handy

Trace down the sky
from finger to finger
past Orion, past Cassiopeia,
each of the Dippers
(or if you prefer, Ursas)
until the Moon rests firmly
between your thumb and forefinger.

Whether sliver or crescent,
gibbous or fuller,
just pluck it and place it
in a box full of memories
and keep it until necessary,
until the time and the place
when your eyes have gone cloudy.

Then in your mind's eye
on your last, little journey
let its light keep you company.

Friday, May 05, 2006

Arse Poetica

Tried to talk to Walt Whitman
but he grabbed my ass,
cute as I was in my Confederate uniform.

Questioned Thoreau about his pond
but he felt me up,
forcing me to look at his bulging pants.

Went to visit John Berryman
dressed as a young Chicana in a short skirt,
he was all over me.

Had a few drinks with Bukowski,
the old, perverted bastard
wanted to bugger me.

Got out of the cold by calling on Robert Frost,
two roads diverged
and he wanted to eat my snatch.

When I got home I had to take a shower,
then I wrote this poem to warn you
or steer you in the right direction.

Second Thoughts

On deleting past issues. I am not.

It would start a domino effect - hundreds perhaps thousands of other web sites will end up having broken links. So for the sake of the internet and other's pleasures, everything will remain as it is for now.

Thank you,

The Goodnight Show: Come See About Me

Thursday, May 04, 2006

going down

his salivared velvet lip edge led
bending her lashes and ducting a tear
raised its fulcrum north to her forehead
swept sweat ahead of her salt trailed fear

which slipped paralleled sobless to her chin
southernwise stopping caught dropping caught
once again by him, always by him in a sin-
less, painless, timeless, shameless, tort-

less fury of advances aimless west or east
his teeth onto a nipple, she back-arched dreams
now neither care whether for where this passionoil-filled compass beast
lands him; star navigated, her cunt creams

he sails only southerly down down down
his own identity a lost soul sirened for her vulva
his gender anchor tempest-ripped and belly-blown
.............................................tangenitally à Dieu va

tip of tongue on tip of clit
cum and piss and Mermaid shit

then and only then does he become her

The Descent

And so it begins,
the spiral descent.

Lip between lips,
tongue tip tasting ...

Bring me down
my bogus priest;
take me to my knees.

Only you worship the blood
canted in my veins -
forbidden flavour.

Pale amber dawn
polishes the sky to stone.

razed by lightning,

finger crazed,
dazed by the sudden prayer of sex,

the sullen opening of ruby.
How the blood tips extend their absolutions,

lest we forget
we have been melded in this pot before,

lest we remember
that slow, feathered, starless fall.

Wednesday, May 03, 2006

My new book

Hello, Cafe Cafe everybody,

My new book of poems What Is Buried Here is now available from Red Dragonfly Press.

A previous book of poems of mine, If There Is A Song, is also available from the same publisher; it's listed in the Red Dragonfly price list along with the other book listed above.

Contact and ordering information for the press is here.


Tuesday, May 02, 2006

Avatar Review 8

Announcing the release of Avatar Review 8: Travelling.

View it here:


Please note. We transitioned to a new server this winter and in the process lost some addresses from our mailing list. If you were previously subscribed to the mailing list (or would like to be subscribed for future notifications) you can sign up here: