#613 quicksilver

truth is as malleable as mercury on a kitchen counter
let it pass between your fingers
shape it as you will
when it hardens you cannot change the truth
until you change the environment, the temperature
truth...
the word, the concept, the syllable
is a golden lie
a silver conceit
a title we give the story we invent through life
life is a story invented to make sense of our inventions

#612 "now i'm a believer"

no more 2-4's from the LCB
no more sleeping in until a late lunch
not since i met her face
the face that whispers
i believe in you too much to believe you
your words like "can't" or "impossible"

i used to be an okay guy, a nice guy
sliding through life
enjoying myself
then i met her face
and good enough wasn't always good enough anymore
no more monster hangovers
back in the day all i had to face was the mirror
and i could and i did
now i face her face
a mirror that reflects the man she thinks i can be
a great man
and i don't know if i can
but as long as her face keeps believing
i'll keep trying

#611 TP

what does it say about a country
if their native population is stereotyped
as stupid addicts
what does it say about a country
if the native culture
is dishonoured
let us think again
without blaming others
let us recognize that something is wrong
something we all need to fix

#610 "nothin"

offered a toke at recess, he accepts
but coughs like a newbie
just as Taylor, the girl he likes, walks by

in science class, Mr Taylor gives him the test he skipped on friday
then, a good friend having a bad day, is sent to the office
the friend is already on "last warning"

on the way home
he realizes his pockets are out of smokes
and out of money

he opens the fridge
empty
and his Mom asks, "what happened at school today"

#609 funeral announcements in heaven

caroline? lillian? veronica?
where are you, did you stay in the kitchen
caroline? lillian? veronica?
i need you here
caroline? lillian? veronica?
no more p'tatoes to boil, let your gnarled hands rest
let your buckled knees sleep
come to bed with me
sit on the backyard swing
and listen to the radio dryer
i'll turn it up to hear gus announce
who'll be coming next for sunday dinner

#608 kenneth

those who don't go by them, refuse to share them
a secret for many
a road, a life
not taken?
an alternate identity unexplored?
worse in our mind than others
just a few letters, one word, maybe two
still
we refuse to share

#607 october 26, 6:30 a.m.

the dog sighs from her bed
my mind agrees
the heater fights the outside's cold rain
this morning is a tea morning
colder days are yet to come
but this feels colder than many will
adjusting to the loss of warmth
in five months, a 10 degree day will bring t-shirts
today, hats and mitts and wool sweaters
this morning
slurping my tea, i save my words and think my thoughts,

#606 welcome winter

the snow line shows a different world
a world i cannot believe will be here in weeks
good-bye grey and wet
hello white and clean
i'm ready

#605 i confess to all mighty gods

if i eat the bread but not the lie
will i go to your hell
which, i might add
makes more entertaining television than your heaven

and you who drink the weekly wine
but ignore the wino at your streetcar stop
and yell at your kids for whining when your patience is short
but wear your smile up the big concrete steps
to your fancy room of "worship"
where will you go after this life?

#604 14 and 1/2

his parents worry and question
which add to his withdrawal from life
and like teens over the last few generations
he finds solace in dark music and dark colours and dark emotions
he fights happy childhood memories
because they make him sad
carry him to an edge where he fears the wind will blow him off

#603 "weary, feeling small"

i've followed the expression cross that bridge when you come to it
for too long
now i face a web of bridges that all require crossing at once
a giant ball of knots
some are suspended, some are large, some even spiral
so many, i can't see the other side of the Paul and Art's River
my head is full of dark and heavy
please
ease my mind

#602 iPhoto

i look at the high school photo
my eyes are grabbed by the skinny boy on the right
his eyes say the whole world is watching me
his hands are clasped behind his back
as though he is a team coach of athletes, not one of a group of friends
i want to scream at him
stop being serious
relax
you won't even be in touch with these people in 5 years
but i know he will finish his high school years feeling out of place
i know this because i was him

#601 morning mourning

i missed the funeral by a day
the plane ticket was too expensive
visited this grave each of the five mornings since

each day i stared at this grass
inviting grief
today is the first day i cried

today i noticed the grass was cut
the image of a gas-powered lawnmower
(ride-on or push?)
running over her again and again
for four laps
brought tears and snot and choking sounds

#600 a vroom of one's own

i want to feel a cliched wind on a cliched open highway
to read pirsig and feel he's talking to me
i want to stop at a roadside tavern and bring my helmet in with me
to stop, on the shoulder, open my tool-bag, and solve some mechanical problem
i want to idle under an overpass and read a map while waiting out a rain
to ride past a long line of angry commuters to board the ferry
i want to meet another leather jacket, separated by a yellow line
to pass and to receive, the secret-wave

i don't need a harley or a ducati
just one i can call my own

#599 staring at a gold ring

there is a red-head somewhere in the world that stays in his head
he remembers, not every day,
but days like today
and he wonders where she is now
still in the big city?
still tough and vulnerable?
still single?
years after they last stood face to face
he remembers hers just as well
and he wonder
does she think of me?

#598 a promise named noose

how can i stay here

my sins are on my head like a hat

my neighbours fall into two groups

those who point and then insult

those who avoid eye contact and then whisper

every road sign, every radio song, everything says leave

except my word

i told her i'd stay

and so i'm here

don't feel bad

i own the insults and the whispers

my sin was a one-moment mistake

but it was My mistake

#597 workshops and editing

like a song brought to the band
he thought it was perfect
ready for sharing
he wasn't ready for the wheelbarrow full
of suggestions, opinions, complaints
but what hurt the most
they were right
eventually he separated himself from the puddle on the floor
and went back to work

#596 let us stay in this time, this place

in the name of childhood
let trash-can lids be my shields
and broom-stick handles be my swords
that cooking-pots protect my head and my life
as i protect yours

in the name of childhood
you in your tin-foil tiara
and bed-sheet gown trimmed with lace
i'll be your day, i'll be your knight
the only evil, is a dragon
such is childhood, so black and white

#595 hallowed be thy mane

your back faces my front
hands fill with prurience
needing and kneeding your exposed shoulder
limbs and moans
warm sweat and flushed flesh
your face
spasms, begs
your mane, spreads every direction
until
the collared gentleman facing us says
...forgive us our trespasses as we forgive...

#594 the smell of sulphur

dry grass and pine needles
small twigs
bigger twigs (all dry)
and the magic ingredient, birch bark

alone in the woods
out of parents' sight
i dig the matchbook from my pocket
read its grocery store slogan, where community lives

i tug out a single match
strike it, below my nose
savour the burning smell of sulphur
then, birch bark crackles my excitement out loud

then the grass and needles
the twigs, big and small

and i stare at the jar of gasoline
stolen from the shed

you can label me arsonist
but i don't trust people who say they never played with fire
the difference between us
is i slipped, i got caught

#593 handle with care

ever tempted to catch a falling knife?
perhaps it was your hand laid her in her precarious position on the kitchen counter's edge
your absent-mindedness left her forgotten there
and your thigh that bumped her
into her fall

but don't reach!
ignore your impulse to reach out, to help, to save
wait
let the knife hit the floor first
flesh is more sacred than linoleum

#592 December 25th 7:45 am, faking surprise

basements are a great addition to childhood
playgrounds of imagination mixed with limited supervision
a world of pirates and dragons and tickle-trunks
treasure hunts enjoyed in dim magical lighting

one boy playing a reality treasure-hunt
searching for the loot that makes christmas christmas for kids
shining and new
this is the boy's first year in on The Secret
revealed by Mother two months before
he stands on the camping duffelbag and slides the plastic top off the faded orange cooler
he discovers the jackpot
his wish-list's #1 item atop stocking-stuffers
page #102 in Sears Wish Book
he stares, then jerks the cover back over
climbs down
wishing he could forget what he saw

and the basement lighting seems bare and ugly

#591 finding home again

a place for exhaling and flopping
for recharging
a safe place to be me
a building with walls
a town with familiar smiles
these things yes, and something more
something inside me
alive and relaxed

#590 drowning anxiety

and the red wine pulls you by invisible leash
your safe friend at a party
as the red touches your lips, you relax
comfortable in your discomfort that makes you human
ready to join the masses

#589 we are both

some things should be clear
but it wasn't
so we didn't get to say goodbye
no words, no hugs, nothing
and we're kept apart by people in uniforms and their silly rules
are we numbers on a paper
or are we people

#588 innies and outies

you think the world is built for you
then something happens
proves you are as important as naval lint
you are rolled between the world's fingers, flicked, forgotten
yet, you must go on
must search for meaning from your random landing place
and remove the random

#587 "And that man comes on the radio"

the sound of satisfaction
is the sound of a beer k'chih-ing open
after hard healthy labour
wiping my brow with a sweaty forearm
sun making even the beer sweat

#586 questions i can't ask

how are you now
how do you feel about your life
do you regret smoking it away
do you regret your angry teenage actions
do you know how they hurt those who looked up to you
do you feel the best years are to come
feel like calling me as much as i do you
ask the questions you can't ask

#585 blind love

i was 11
i told her about how kittens' eyes
stay closed for a week or two

the way she looked at me
respecting my intellect
like i was something

my feelings for her were confused
i knew they were wrong and scourged myself at night
alone beneath bedsheets

but still
the memory of her eyes
reminded me of kittens eyes in the third week

and i was blind to my innocence
as blind as a kitten

#584 me plus twenty

i'm trying to make amends with my 11 year-old self
but he's not speaking to me
hasn't said a word in years
can't even look me in the eye without disappointment
won't yell at me or kick me or call me names
just stares
disappointed and angry

#583 channel 88

popular voices seep into my ears from the screen
and i forget
forget what 10 year-old me demanded of adult me
forget my potential
forget my responsibility
as recipient of the gift called time
that i squander in front of the stars

#582 a lonely harmonica

a lonely sound like the harmonica
unites people in their loneliness
in barrooms and bedrooms
and the more loneliness the musician taps and shares
the more united the audience in loneliness
and when the last chord finishes pushing through air and ear canals
the loneliness felt, expressed
can be left until next time

#581 haiku haiku

first you start with 5
then find 7 syllables
last, you end with 5

#580 nature haiku

trees are you's and me's
also, they hold our answers
back-of-mind questions

#579 go time

i'm not ready
prepared is not in my vocabulary today
i feels like everyone else is here to succeed and to mock me
every giggle and stare is meant for me
i'm not ready
stop the world, i want to get off
stop

okay
let's do this

#578 garbage day

i am in the compacting section of a garbage truck
things once nice, and useful
are now offensive smelling junk
the light overhead shrinks as a wall closes in on me
making me one with the stuff the world cast aside
my screams cease
useless over the screech of metal and the slow crunch of trash

#577 memories with cousins

drinking from a creek in a push-up position
daring each other to test the electric fence
jumping from the bridge after blind man's bluff
nights out in the backyard, camper or tent
sneaking berries from the garden
or carrots with a delicious hint of dirt
spontaneous ball games
cards on rainy days, go-fish

#576 time

how do i have so much time now
i slowed down
i'm doing less
but getting more done
less hectic, more satisfaction
less to-do, more doing

#575 12-paned mirrors and mulligans

12 panes
12 pains
last night's choice reflected
12 times, the pain reflected
some people make bad choices
but the world lets them off
the etch-a-sketch of life and decisions is shaken clear
the i promise i'll never, is granted
this mirror tells me 12 times
i am not on that list this morning

#574 gold chalice

at what point will the catholic voice stop speaking in my mind
chastising and self-judging
you are not welcome
i am imperfect
i am good
take your gold chalice and go somewhere you'll impress
your time and effort is wasted in my mind

#573 sunny early october day

a month of rain frays the spirit
but last night the sky changed colours
bright blue with a ball of light
this is what we needed after rain rain and more rain
we will walk outside with as few layers as possible
indoor jobs will procrastinate themselves
hats and and mitten and knitted socks will stay in cardboard boxes
for an extra little bit
and when winter knocks
we will be ready to open the door

#572 perspective or not

the nicer she is too other people
the meaner she is to me
a tough week equals lots of public smiles
and even more life-hurtful words
and even in perspective
these accusations seem harsh
but i'm not in perspective
and they sound mean and rude and spiteful
and after years of doubting
i've learned we'll get through this and find happy moments again
but still
harsh words hurt

#571 black and white

i'm a white man
educated and middle class
and i'm gonna stop apologizing
start recognizing
the things that come my way
'cause the colour of my epidermis
'cause of what i got
not
between my ears or caged in my ribcage
but between my legs
no not my mind or my heart
but because of another part
that only half of us got
the jobs
the weight on my words
the habit of interrupting
priveledge or right
some things ain't right
i'm a white man
and i won't say i'm sorry
'cause what is my story
i can walk down any torontonian street
not worry about getting raped
by that big guy who looks like that's how he gets his
i'm a white man
i've got things i didn't even realize i was receiving
because the world can be deceiving
hiding the truth behind the 4 star resorts, statistics, and the dark of the night
the throne speech is spoken to me
i'm a white man
i vote, got money, got schoolin'
or should i say schooling
i don't hide my low self-esteem under an overpriced hat
not a victim of societal lies
my belt lies not at my thighs
at my waist
my waste is not knowing what i got or how or where to use it
i'm a white man
don't feel bad for me
i'm the overpriveleged you see
i don't call my guy friends the N-word, or the B-word
to steal back my power that history stole from me me through my ancestry
i'm a white man
if i succeed,no person will say, congratulations, you're a tribute to your race
race what race?
the races are in life and i had a 2 hour head start that no one told me about
my athletic accomplishments are not followed by, especially for a woman
i'm a white man
living in a white man's world
doesn't mean i suffer
but it doesn't mean i like it
say what you want
i'm a white man

#570 uncool poet tries street verse

Have my heart but don't halve my heart
I wanna court you, cavort with you
Support you and sport you
Care for you, carry you
Want you to need me, and you to kneed me
Touch my skin, touch my soul
Help me out of the hole, and help me feel whole
All this and more, just let me be your
Let me have you, just let me have you

#569 a lesson from Lexi

as a kid
i spent hours searching through good clover to find one with four leaves
now
i look at my furniture and wish it was more expensive
then i feed the dog
brown kibble
again
for the 5000th consecutive meal
and her excited tail beats the floor

#568 do you know where your children are?

black eyes and bloody knees
all things i hope happen to my kid
and hope never happen to my kid

why, as they walk out the door,
do we choose the words be careful
why not take risks

though bubble-wrapping our kids
and 100% supervision are tempting
i fear the consequences

#567 white paper on hardwood floor

stories fall together on a floor
piles form
and with the piles, new stories
common connections, common themes, common images
paper-clipped together
chapters form
old memories build new ideas for new stories

#566 My Spirit and Danny's Hip Bones

All feels broken

The law cracked my spirit

Killed my motivation to belive in good

Danny's desk stands empty

The Ruler sits atop the scene, doing nothing

Danny was smacked dead by a car

The car had too many drinks

The driver ran away

Until he was found

The law raped my spirit

I heard his truth change by steps, as the true story was revealed

The young man received 60 days house arrest, his parents' house
While Danny received a lifetime of house arrest, his cramped new bachelor suite
And the car
Still drives the main street
Up and down
Up and down
Free

#565 childhood memories

the field was full my last visit
now it is nothing but one shade of brown
no flowers, no grass, no life
and i wonder
from where will the next 500 come

#564 staring at my bicycle

cinnamon and white sugar on evening toast
a new snack to us
special
and i haven't made it in decades
but the thought, the thought of the taste
yanks me backward through time
and i am there
and she pays attention to me
talks to me like i'm more than just a dumb kid
and the memory lives somewhere between my hair and my neck
though i struggle to understand the reason
when i can't remember this combination lock that i bought just two weeks ago

#563 overwaitea

i saw an acquaintance at the store
and became aware of my heart, the organ
tight
constricted
the man was nice
i just do that
irrational fear
hyper-perception and evaluation of each word
after it falls from my mouth
then in the car, alone with my negative self-talk
i replay the encounter
and scourge myself for stiffness and awkwardness
and then i get home
over the fence, i see my garden gnome
smiling
because i'm home
me
and i'm okay again

#562 the gnome and me

my garden gnome greeted me as i opened the gate
stood up cheery, said Hello, and kissed me on the cheek
she wore an autumn sweater under a down vest
she had been encouraging the tomatoes to ripen
and tugging at grass and weeds as she did so
she walked in the house with me
and now she's fixing pasta sauce
oh, and did i mention
i'm marrying her

#561 he's back

a buzz
44 eyes alive
eyes riveted
butts bouncing
text books open
and forgotten
his first they-get-it! moment
in too long

#560 man's best friend

goodbye Sorrow
we had some times
now i ease you into this hole
beneath our favourite tree
years from now
someone will read the stake and wonder
who we were
RIP Sorrow 1990-2004

#559 persistent depression

i talk out my problems
i run to stay healthy
eat well
and i see dog hair on the floor

i've swept floor the last 15 days, consecutive
brush bags of hair from the source
vacuum
but still, it appears

#558 reflecting on time

here i stand
in front of a paned mirror
pained
a clock on the wall in front of me
because of the clock on the wall in behind me
i remember watching my father shave
wishing the years away until it was me
i remember mother cutting my hair
wishing the minutes away so i could go with friends
and i think on life

how i watched the second hand
hop one babystep at a time
with long pauses between
mocking my impatience
and all the while
the hour hand flew
imperceptible for its steady speed
and now i sit
unshocked by the white on my head
and below the clock
my son stares at the razor in my hand

#557 one, two, three...

the night before the night before
is when i get my sleep
the night before is a long-shot gamble
and the odds increase when expectation and need is lowered
still, ceiling-staring is often the effect
and "night before" the cause

#556 weighty words

there is a weight that travels with many road partners
authority
height
position
confidence
and we listen to these people
their words lowering our scales further than the words of others
call it bias
call it stereotyping
but we all do it
and if you say you don't
i call you a liar

#555 ground hockey

my eye is 7 years old
and hurts
a lot
a puck hit my eye
there is no blood
and i can see good.
Mike and Tavis and Sandy (the older neighbourhood guys)
they're impressed I'm not crying
so i'm smiling
even though my eye hurts, a lot.
but Sandy high-fived me
and Tavis has his arm around my shoulders
and Mike's holding my stick
and i'm cool.
i try for this moment everyday.
if i knew all it took was a puck in the eye
i would have tried goalie long ago.

#554 grampy

i don't remember him talking
not much anyway
just watching from the corner of the kitchen
or from the backyard swing
sharpening the chainsaw
smoking
adjusting the radio

and doing grandfather things with me
digging worms and fishing
gardening
picking berries
playing cards

now he lives
but i only have clues and guesses of when and how
in my mum's thoughtful gazes
in our family's thing for music
in a field of blueberries
in a worm on a hook

#553 incompetent swordsmanship

i slayed the dragon
crossed the moat,
knelt on one knee
and handed the princess my flower
your flower is wilted, said she
and critiqued my swordsmanship

head down,
i left the castle
searching for a new quest
another dragon
another flower
another chance

#552 when i'm gone, heartbreak hotel

all the songs speak of us
us now and us then
the lyrics and the melodies
when will someone write a song about something new?
something not Me and You?
elvis and eminem
they all knew us
i could use the lyrics
to prove it in court
i just wonder
how i never noticed before

#551 order switch

cheese and macaroni
jam and peanut butter
meatballs and spaghetti
pepper and salt
women and many
gentlemen and ladies
lightning and thunder
home and house
groove and tongue

#550 it has ben a pleasure serving you, now it's our turn

we're sorry. we're sorry, we are currently experiencing higher than normal call volume. please wait for the next available agent

but here's the problem:
they've played this rcording the last four times i called
and here's the bigger problem
we put up with it
sure we complain
but we do nothing
allowing business and policy to hold scepter over our everyday lives
we write science fiction about machines taking over the world
but we don't see the irony in listening on hold on one machine
as another machine speaks an apologetic script

#549 stolen moment

a candle and a laundry basket and silence
except for the washer on rinse cycle
she stares at the fingernail-size flame
her thoughts on hold
watching the fire sway and jump and bow
a mental to-do list forgotten
for an extra ordinary oasis
a mind relaxed
a soul at ease
then reality returns
as the washer jump-thumps-jump-thumps
she hops to her feet
blows out the light and rushes to the appliance

Will Be Skipping a Couple of Days (Camping and going to Ben Harper)

#548 wrestling to win

Judd and Nelson, fused by a nelson into

one creature

a creature of arms, and legs, and sweat

beautiful

repulsive

the desk riffraff watch from armchairs
the wannabees cheer from gymnasium bleachers
But Judd and Nelson are
one half of a larger whole

The desk riffraff watch TV’s from chairs

Others watch from gymnasium bleachers

But Judd and Nelson are one half of a larger whole

One the blade and the other the full haft of an aristotelean knife

Judd scoops a calf

relinquishing a neck

The ring is a flacon

Warm breath mixes with sweat and the salty canvas

There can be just one winner

But both competitors walk away better men

#547 a band-aid and children's glue

i judged her

the arc shape of an egg is the strongest shape in existence
when pressed just right, the egg will withhold incredible force
but for all that bravado, the egg is as fragile a thing as nature has produced

i judged her as 29-year old white trash
but inside was an 8 year-old girl
whose trust was perverted by
a grandfather who hated himself
a child, forced to do adult things
skip childhood instead of rope
play with genitalia instead of dolls
climb into adult beds instead of children's treehouses

her self-esteem is an empty eggshell broken into three-hundred pieces
held back together with a band-aid and children's glue
Judgement
a temptation for fools and idiots

#547 lament for family lost

wily red hair and voice weathered by ancient ocean
he is the voice of michael, providing reason and meaning
he sits on a stool, attached to his guitar by a plain leather strap
his eyes are closed and maybe watery

he'll finish the set
and accept a pint from a patron
and stare into his glass
a sad crystal ball
he'll go home to no one and cry for himself
and for Mary's Michael
he'll remember his child
and the small free bird's fall

#546 "our freedom's a joke, we're just taking a piss"

i used to have bright eyes
now my inner voice is as chipper as Oberst
if you think you leave in a free country
try the nearest border crossing
better yet, try with a sense of humour
and why?
to keep the bad guys out?
to eliminate smuggling?
and so we release our rights
and wonder what's left
knowing something's wrong
and i pretend i'm different because i write
sure there's fire in my eyes
like a digital fireplace
a screensaver of virtual logs

#545 good men make tough decisions

go ahead
twist fact and rearrange truth
besmirch
pervert
omit the inconvenient and focus on the juicy
but at night
his pillow knows that he tried to make the world a better place
and all while you spewed your petty words

#544 time to gear down

in the dream i am learning to drive standard on a Rav4

i am driving town streets

at each stop sign i

exert myself to stop

but each time

i roll through

sometimes

at the 4way stops

i rarely miss hitting or being hit

other cars

i wake up

exhausted

#543 suntans around hemp-bracelet lines

clean nervous smiles step off the bus and into a magic loosely defined as "summer camp"

strange names surround and bad hair-days abound

songs are sung and rules sneaked in and games played

then bedtime

the stop

causes homesickness

but then wake-up and another full day

games and songs and friends and sunshine

and if not, puddle-jumping

sunburnt smiles and everyday flip-flops

campfire smoke and white rabbits

rare showers are the only alone time other than the toilet

the days pile up and there is one sleep left

homesickness returns

but this time in perspective

and greater than the homesickness

the procrastination of morning

the procrastination of mourning

#542 www.youtube.com/watch?v=F5QCs3PnQBc

she liked it

she really liked it

she was impressed

she smiled

she spoke to me

her hand touched my leg

her eyes tunneled into mine

and then she went home with me

on hiatus soon for a week

#541 like mumford

like mumford

my heart won't listen to my head

it thumps like rave music instead

breathing goes shallow

won't pick up the phone and say Hello

and it's all in my head

but that's all that needs to be said

for reality is not "out there"

reality is internal

and mine

an anxious inferno

#540 dear girl

i did not ask for this comment box

and i know these words were jotted to help

to improve

but they hurt

make me think of all i'm not doing

all i'm failing

they make me want to isolate and insulate

myself in the office

where the whispers don't hurt

aren't heard and so don't need to exist

i did not ask for this comment box

but i love you

please minimize your venting

and i will try to accomplish the suggestions

one or two at a time

be patient when i'm overwhelmed and grumpy

i want to be a man, a great man

i want to be your great man

but i did not ask for this comment box

#539 on reading lenord cohen

the old man does not try

to be deep or meaningful or sexy

but accomplishes all three

he lives a life of searching and living and doing

not unlike you and me

but as with you and me

he lives his own way

women and words and music

and a bruised-over heart

still worn on the exterior

#538 the cycle

and we start from two trying to become one

and then we become part of another

then, we leave their body

and are theirs for years

until we find someone to be one with too

#537 nothing new in the forecast

there is a dark cloud above me

sunlight all around

the cloud's been above me
for weeks
disguised as years

i've run and driven

stopped and hidden

is the cloud following me?

am i trying for escape?

or am i pursuing the cloud

and all it provides?

the blue horizon

like the cool kids in the cafeteria
offers a view, something to watch

but no sense of belonging

or being invited

#536 jealousy

callouses and dirty fingernails

an embarrassment to owners

but a point of jealousy for those who don't

for the people who sit in cushy office seats

staring out windows at the lives they imagine having given up

#535 don't do that...

SLOW CHILDREN PLAYING

reads the sign

and

knowing the mental ability

(or lack of)

that my neighbour's kids possess

(twerps)

i chuckle

wondering

am i the only ass that sees the humour?

#534 dirty cars

one day i had to wash the car

but of course i put it off

then i got a phone call

and had to file a form

and of course, i washed the car

then i saw my whatch-ya-ma-call-it was "overdue"

and knew i had to renew

and so i filed the form

and so my day went on and on

a perfect example of the usefulness of procrastination

aka "to-do list masturbation"

and the next day and the next week

and then i flipped a calandar page

and then another

and then another

and then i saw my poor dirty car

and added it to the list

and put it off until i washed it again

to put off something else

#533 me and the moon

a frozen night illuminated by nine tenths of a full moon

leaves mount fernie a ghost of its daytime self

and me illuminated by a forty watt bedside lamp

feel like a skeleton of my daytime self

spent

like a kid's dollar in a new candy shop

empty

like a chewed sucker-stick

i see the mountain

and i wonder how it achieves beauty

day and night

#532 wasted

self-pity and self-anger shroud me

and the hangover and last night's memories

refuse to help me

i stand here

at the bottom of an old-fashion well

daylight, sunshine

are visible, and close

but out of reach

and they feel miles away,

a different existence

and so i stare at the stale dark walls

not because i like them

but because looking up

hurts

#531 disposable corporate ethics

in a world where "customer service"

means "move out of the way of our paying customers"

and "value added" means an extra fee

where automated machines tell you every 2 minutes

how, "your call is very important"

and "warranty" means, "estimated time of break-down"

in a world where all these are everyday

isn't it brilliant to speak on the phone

with someone polite and useful

#530 moments

the moment as the parachute settles in grade 2 PE, exciting calm

the moment after the wave crashes before it recedes, the rocks tinkling out

the moment after a mother snaps a crisp new sheet above a bed, peace

your face right after a good kiss, saying your world is in front of you

#529 alone with the one you love

he wakes beside her

the one who fuels the hands on his clock to spin,

who provides his neural activity with meaning,

ignites his poems

but still,

he sleeps alone

#528 landmarks

the numbers are falling from the clockface

collecting by a teetering "6"

and i watch enough cnn

to wonder if the clock's fate is an apocalyptic warning

as another tornado claims lives

the hands keep spinning on their axes

though more numbers have fallen than not

a pile built by gravity

i think of my parents saying "turn left at the sullivans"

though there is no house there

hasn't been in forty years

i look at the clock again

and i know what time it is

#527 michelangelo's cartwheel (*accepted into "cartwheel")

in my dream, he returns

i am hitchhiking the trans-canada

and he cartwheels by

pauses, upside down

michelangelo's vitruvian man, inverted

i raise my arms, feel connected

we are a perverse reflection

each seeing the other as the mirror

frowns are smiles

smiles are frowns

he speaks words, life changing words

and i awake

scramble for a pen

and stare at a blank page

#526 bodies tick like clocks

pictures on walls tell a story of a woman who was

serious stares at serious photographers

young and black and white

older and grainy and colour

framed behind glass

hanging eye-level

soon to laid to rest in an attic

buried in corrugated oblivion

forgotten

until then, she wanders halls on wheels with other artifacts

baseboards built for the convenience of brooms

paint chosen to calm, to bore

lights chosen to reduce power bills and incidentally, the sense of home

weekly visits, obligatory

a room filled with photos and stuffies, and other silence-breakers

and visitors sit behind forced smiles

afraid that time will one day also leave them

forgotten

#525 running the loop

running
like treading water
but instead of water
stress and problems and to-do lists undone

i need to run, to stay afloat

#524 saying goodbye

like packing up a tent in the rain

fast temporary, unhappy

stuff it away

to deal with on a drier, cheerier day

sand that was welcomed yesterday

is heavy and wet and gross today

#523 of cars and rings and relationships

shiny and new

brilliant

then a nick

wet tears

followed by more nicks and scratches

now old and marked

unique

irreplaceable

#522 to remove a thistle

to remove a thistle

you need to grip below the thorns

to do this, you will get scratched

but at the root of the problem

the plant has no offense, but its attachment

to the earth around it

tug, reach lower

repeat

the spindly parsnip-like root will yield

to your persistence

are there any thorns that don't have gentle roots?

with roots that puncture hands?

#521 like a horse and carriage

goodnight to the man with the naked finger

goodnight from an older man with everything your young running shoes ran from

goodnight to independent decisions, unlimited

goodnight to no expectations but your own

goodnight to shaggy t-shirts and to sleeping off saturday morning hangovers

sleep well

i'll take my finger and its weight

i'll wear my wallabees and chuckle inside at your laughs

i'll say hello to decisions shared

to the suggestion box who sees the best man inside my sensible coat

and goodbye to weekly benders

#520 exit sandman

old friend forgotten

revisits at night

looking the same as ever

but behaviour altered

an old workmate,

angry at me over my choice of sandwich

an elementary classmate,

upset over where i planted a tree

my driving instructor,

yelling about spots on my dishes

i wake

unsettled

#519 why are you here?

i saw her in a bathing suit, and the thoughts started

i should have stopped them there, i know

but thoughts are mine, and thoughts are harmless

but they grew and grew in my head

like vetch and weeds in the neighbour's garden

and my thoughts took over my head

like the vetch and the weeds

they grew bigger, stronger, choking out the good ones

and instead of weeding out the garden

i pretended to love the weeds

i called their ugliness, beauty

called the perverse thorns, flowers

and that is why i am here

#518 concrete and clouds

i wouldn't want to be a dentist or a coroner

everyone dreading my visits

and i didn't want to be your lover

like hugging a barb-wire fence that was sometimes charged

but i saw past the concrete walls around your soul

and i saw beneath the black cloud above your head

i saw the softness you fought so hard to hide

i wanted to fix you, but the concrete and clouds proved too strong

i quit on you

and i'm glad i did

life worked out good for me

but today i wonder

about the thickness of your walls

about the opaqueness of your cloud