Interpoetry


The "Honesty" of Plainspokeness
 
Using one example of the shrewd writing in this remarkable memoir:
 
"then years later, I find the snapshot and see my entire life spread out
on a green lawn picnicking. One of the members in the party spots a
dark cloud before anyone has a chance to fondle the park benches
or chase the flirtatious grassy knoll. Life's pot-belly begins to drift in its
life-boat or naked is the sunlight entering our forest. Everyone tries to
conceal their own individual perversions. The busy crosswalks stand
on the corners. Faded awnings wink at anything that passes by. And
the traffic island is caught in the middle of an intersection without even
a "cordial gesture of goodwill" from the phony stoplights.
 
Mass hysteria could be the iceberg rubbing every Titanic or the
formal invitation that sets-off world-wide annoyances. It could be the
taxi cab door that forgets to slam. It could be the up-scale department
store that thinks it's invisible in spite of its bright red socks. Or it could
be the approaching rain that casually walks on stage wearing a yellow
slicker. March might even turn out to be arithmetic. A bale of hamstring
could suddenly mutate into the feather boa furry fleece of a tortoise
lava snake with diamonds on the soles of its shoes. Hell could hiccup,
bursting a dam of sins that floods the salt of bondage.
 
When I look back on the critical situation I don't know how I made it. I
guess it was that tiny voice inside my crunch of ad-lib that osama bin
ladened me on. Then too, it might have been the extra fruity favor that
helped sustain my fistful of matrix. You can shot craps too. So just
remember, the next time you pass a marquee, even it has something
to hide. That's why it wears a thick sweater".
 
Bet you can see why the book is a bestseller!
 
 

Advice On The Art Of Bewilderment
 
And just before the coat rack equals a firing squad we're able to:
 
-Figure out why lighting never strikes a phone booth.
 
-Scrap the moss off antlers in a taxidermist's shop.
 
-Make snapshots of the policeman in drag.
 
-Add enough red until it reveals the green.
 
-Sleep with a nodding mermaid vigorously.
 
-Cough-up fabric to make pockets for the gabardine slacks.
 
-Set the grandfather clock at a bewitching hour.
 
-Put a handful of snowflakes in the spin-cycle.
 
-Harvest a bushel of burger kings.
 
-Count all the cockleshells in the dental work.
 
-Adjust the eternal light with a standard dimmer.
 
-Prep the night how to enter a room like ink.
 
 

Insufferable Spring
 
By early-May Springs varnish
includes a verbal anesthesia.
Bountiful is the face lift. Blaring
is a dappled shade. The two meet
on a tow path and end up choosing
door #2. What results is labled
brand-X and requires foot powder.
 
On the other hand, I can cast my 
monk-showboat off a ripple in the
velvet curtain of Fleur-du-mal and still
have enough play money to circle the
covered wagons used as props in the
dandelion monologue and head for
a cheap bistro after the performance.
 
 
Endless Hallways.Spotless Carpets.
 
With diamonds on the soles of her shoes.
 
Or a hallway with fun-house mirrors. A mantle lined with monkey skulls.
A smile that hangs lower on one side. Landscape that is most likely
the Mohave. Gold teeth bought on a lay-a-way plan. Park benches.
Tool sheds. Green that can only be money. Vast stretches of coconut
groves. Potted palms. Words you can dance to or eat...
 
like peppermint twist.
 
Or try an evening of nightlife standing at the urinals.
Beige because it once was a favorite childhood friend.
Tea for two and invite your cat.
 
"I prefer to be alone except for the island in me", she
confides, after swallowing the key to the handcuffs. "Yeah,
well I'm constantly looking for new rivers to wade across", I
reply, using dialog form a paint-by-numbers kit, in a story I
can make up as I go along then air-brush my way out of later.
 
 
Such A Halo!
 
At night,
there's birds in the violin music
and both can be habit-forming.
 
The birds use cups when they 
want a sip from the Big Dipper.
 
The violin music has lived only
on sound for the last ten years.
 
As for me, I think I'd settle for
just being an ordinary bladder
if it meant I could masquerade
as a tree or a shabby coat no
one would want to steal.