hollywood boardroom

marty feldmans molar
sat on corporate bosses desk
an ironic find
in his pet rats regurgitation
that rat had lived in the actors trailer
now it gnawed on ear lobe
still damp from secretaries kiss
his moisture on her stocking tops
as he ordered bitter sale of shares,
he was protected
the molar had his back
luck came even more his way
until on boardroom morning
another corporate boss
fat on the rates they charge and manipulate
came in and claimed to be
possessed by clint eastwoods toenail
a cast off trimming on the set of magnum
and this could annihilate the molar
for eastwood was stronger
yet the humorous molar
would create wealth of laughter
that made the violent toenail dissolve
in it’s own dysfunction
there would be no sale
molar had prevailed,
subsiding to earth
on his stricken ship
tight foetal bound
at the loss
and marty feldman smiled

poet, poem, poetry

chewing the inside of your mouth yesterday

three inhuman seconds

and his mouth meat bled

one bite stress induced

a soloist on the telephone

making obscene financial calls

scratching a flabby stomach

still held the phone

the woman a thousand fibers away

still howled

fiscal abuse

he had spoken off the script

probing her dollars

sliding inside her head

avoiding indignant sounds

her whole life on his computer screen

a random credit score

he had pushed to far

stench of cheap deodorant

dropping the phone

he ran

red nylon carpets flashed by

everybody watched

as outside the double doors

he vomited with blood

from his cheek

too afraid to return

walked towards

somewhere else

3wordwednesday

 

 

padded diesel destination

legitimate was the legal nuance

given to his birth,

contested

shouted out

proven,

by twists of double helix,

it would be another day

to see the man

who out of ego made love

to most of the attractive women

he saw,

now there was a son

it could of been damaging,

he thought as walking through

station plaza,

he wanted it to be,

the mother

had mattered was a consequence

for all of seven months,

they had loved

with a deep assurance

that she considered to be a gesture

of forever,

he wanted to move on to the next,

now he wanted the boy and his mother,

they headed towards him

on the train

and waiting twenty minutes

was a pale shadow

of the twelve years,

he felt a sigh lengthen

and a brightness flare

3wordwednesday

stiffen the twilight

wanderer rolls in half soliloquy

sick heart and eastern sky

death’s fair strokes to guide,

dull pain brings him alone

heart a charnel cave,

crushing cigarette in thumb twists

till nearly ground to nothing,

love once lit and believe

as it was then

snow now hated

broke about the house

fathers silver face tribute to strength

went from kitchen warmth to boathouse,

breast no longer sleeps

coronal shine through window,

gunshot one pause enough to vow

gunshot two now white marble will tell,

should i be penitent kneeling praying

wrestling with tears,

i saw his return crimson and gold

shotgun on shoulder,

mother has gone away he said

my laughing brow could not find a way,

i wished for nothing but hair golden

to weave light to the day

police came lights kaleidoscopic

around ceiling and stars

with my uncle i grew,

now back in this timbered and brick town

to see what remains

house now fallen into decay

this heart of man

was now my peace,

lay flowers in silence

remember my prayer

shadows have now moved underground

and will stay

3wordwednesday

 

 

 

boots that find the future

these boots

at the side of my bed

talk of a journey

dust and tall grass,

feeling within

bare swollen flesh

feeling grief for the pain

as to get where i am

the walk was long

to raise money

find work,

work that had no outcome

but minimum pay,

no chance to drink

cheap liquor,

or bask in long drawn sun,

purpose and emotion

gathered as my supports,

now resting

bills and change on

bedside cabinet,

boots feel pleased

for what they had

done

3wordwednesday

 

don’t forget old poets

old ghosts play in a orchestra

before painted ladies

across a golden bridge,

memory sepia toned

kodak instamatic

lingers too,

white house lawn

protest placards,

my poetry read aloud

younger me

more potent then,

squint at the sun

absorbing light,

nature my bus to salvation

notation and tune

may argue with me,

i know where i belong,

war and ever wishing peace

the lick of history

cannot salve wounds so many,

shade of tree a haunted place

my grave and i

knew what path was ahead,

so remember and read

wisdom is a growing child

needing nurture along

the way

 

3wordwednesday

More Than Flesh Alone

being hungry is abnormal

having to steal bread

to feed a dry open mouth,

moisture limited

whiskey an old memory

as was those magnolia walls

rooms in house,

house now held by bank

who dangle tempting finance options

that could never work out,

once lavish clothes

thread thinned to paleness,

how long since he spoke

to her on cellular

a year or six,

not remembering,

as his own smell disgusted him,

forever was a point of departure

of a very short journey,

tearing stolen bread,

crumbs to tongue eyes closed

feel a source of nourishment

and a possibility of tomorrow

3wordwednesday

Subtraction From

in the obstinate realm

of flightless thought,

a man may lay down

finding all muscles non compliant,

he had a chance

that possibility to extract

a thought chick from the nest,

without down stark uninteresting

pallid pink nothing

with voracious appetite,

cast away

all limits remain,

lust , love and desire

three traps set for him

all ensnaring,

have caught him

escape an alternative

only accomplished with thought,

yet he could not think,

each entice

her whisper,

a touch upon bare flesh,

the merest smile,

beguiled, her medusa words

turn flesh to stone,

marble for her own touch

contoured to her own wanting

it was her savor,

not his

a phallic model of molecular degeneration,

reduced to base instincts and constructs,

he was for her

and her alone