Monday, April 30, 2012


Bringing a body
back to life requires
loud music and intense
concentration.  Controlled

breathing also helps.
But decayed
logic can have
the opposite effect,

resulting in the
election of a
Republican to office.
What goes up

doesn't necessarily
have to come down.

Sunday, April 29, 2012


The small rain
down can rain
anytime it wants
as far as I'm

concerned.  I've
got an umbrella,
and I know how
to use it.  Don't

try me if you
don't have time
to try harder
next time.  Oh,

yes, there will
be a next time.

Saturday, April 28, 2012


There are countries
in this world
(doubt this at
your own risk)

in which a
particular man
or woman is
designated a

king or queen
on the basis
of the simple
act of being

born.  I find
this amazing.

Friday, April 27, 2012


The little horse that
trots up with a
letter in its mouth
gallops into the

flame with what
little's left of
choice versus chance.
We know this and

are here.  A lamp
goes out in the
window of a house
we have been staring

at for what will soon
seem like ages.

Thursday, April 26, 2012


When we're in too
much of a hurry
to stop for death,
death removes

another day or two
from our lives.  Or
words to that effect.
Emily's at her

window again,
gazing down on
life.  When we look
up to wave at

her, she pretends
not to see us.

Wednesday, April 25, 2012


Because there isn't
enough time for
people to notice
me anymore,

I take the precaution
of noticing myself
in a small hand
mirror I keep

in a cabinet
inside the utility
closet.  Changes I
observe in who I

am are recorded
in my day planner.

Tuesday, April 24, 2012


A man's discovery
after death that his
soul was only partially
immortal results in

posthumous health
problems.  I read about
a man in Alaska who
had to wait until

spring to be buried.
The ground was too
icy cold to greet
him.  I shiver

just thinking
about it.

Monday, April 23, 2012


Once he had gotten
a grip on himself,
he took the added
precaution of throwing

himself away.  It
wasn't easy, but
few things worth
doing are.  A vowel

can last as long as
a breath can, but must
be discontinued once
all the air has been

expelled from the

Sunday, April 22, 2012


In a letter left
for me posthumously
Kafka reveals what
he had actually

meant, but asks
me politely (in
polite terms) not
to share the

information with
anyone until after
my own death.
I agree pre-posthumously

in my mind, which is
where this takes place.

Saturday, April 21, 2012


The same vested
interests that created
God have funded
a study to explore

the potential financial
benefits of creating
God's opposite.  Not
the Devil, but a

legitimate opposite:
a being that would
be nowhere at once,
would know nothing,

and would be incapable
of faking miracles.

Friday, April 20, 2012


He closes his
eyes to see himself
in the mirror.
Recognizable by his

absence, he releases
thoughts into the
air and watches
them sail out

of sight. You
can't hear him,
but you can
easily imagine

what he may or
may not be saying.

Thursday, April 19, 2012


The existence of
cover has been shown
to make an ambush
unavoidable. False

alarms can come
true (this can happen
to you if you're old
and gray). A new

weapon that heals
old wounds is being
withheld from the
market by the same

vested interests that
created God.

Wednesday, April 18, 2012


The German people
(das Volk) can be
forgiven, a recent
study concludes. Just

not all at once.
A tentative plan to
forgive fifteen a day
was tabled when

it was pointed out
that more than fifteen
new Germans were
born every day.

"So?" someone in the
back row blurted out.

Tuesday, April 17, 2012


Today we celebrate
Ron Padgett, the
celebrated poet.
It's not Ron's

birthday, or the
anniversary of the
first day he decided
he might write

a poem. That
day will be
celebrated a year
after he has

written his next
poem, and his next.

Monday, April 16, 2012


A kid in a china
shop trades
places with a
bull in a candy

store. The lunatic
in the living room
stays right where
he is. A nurse

is nursing herself
back to health
in my bedroom.
A missing person

finds himself
hidden in the attic.

Sunday, April 15, 2012


There is a God
whose best excuse
and only alibi is
his nonexistence.

The man outside
the door remains
outside the door.
He doesn't knock

or ring the doorbell.
He is the man
outside the door.
His nonexistence

is legendary and
lasts forever.

Saturday, April 14, 2012


When the air's too
thick with insinuations,
documents disappear.
Mind-readers remove

their reading glasses,
replacing them with
fingertips that feel
around for any available

hunches. Turning
points turn several
corners on their way
to what the future

was once thought
to have intended.

Friday, April 13, 2012


An impatient swimmer
scratches the water
with his fingernails.
A prayer for rain

falls from the
sky like confetti.
A wrinkle-free
God visits our

church at night,
hoping for the
best. He hears
us thinking and

understands the
error of his ways.

Thursday, April 12, 2012


Because nothing can
be done about
anything, everything
is reduced to still

resembling what it
was. The patch placed
over the inability to
change this causes

death in some,
inconsistent agony
in others. Ninety-one
percent of the things

that can't go on like
this do anyway.

Wednesday, April 11, 2012


We can assume,
I think, that invention
is not a bastard
and that its father

is impatience. Snow
melts all over me
when I think of
you. I become

a different shower
of ping-pong balls
tattooing the hardwood
where we stand.

It feels like spring
again inside me.

Tuesday, April 10, 2012


You can dream
snow into the
middle of summer,
but don't expect

it to reach the
ground. Our rain
is kept in a small
box we open

only when water
becomes scarce.
Our life is an
open book. We

close it in summer
to keep the flies out.

Monday, April 9, 2012


An angel attempts
to recreate itself
by flapping its
wings across a

field of snow.
Understanding that
nothing else matters,
it praises God

from a safe
distance. God,
who never notices
anything, accidentally

steps on the
angel and dies.

Sunday, April 8, 2012


His infamous first
words were "da da".
He invented the nude
staircase and the

flushing fountain.
He once tried to
erase Andre Breton
with Louis Aragon's

eraser. He was
a dance and song
man whose fanciest
pants caught fire

at the mere mention
of a dropped hat.

Saturday, April 7, 2012


Mother and father
making love in
the past is like
a poem that

improves over time
without having to
change a single
word. The mere

mention of infinity
forces the dreamer
to kneel inside
himself while confetti

rains down upon
his head.

Friday, April 6, 2012


Events extraneous to
a poem can rearrange
the meaning of its
words. For example,

the value of anything
depends on who
is saying what and
on why they are

not dancing instead.
They should be
dancing. It says
so in the poem,

and the poem is never
wrong about dancing.

Thursday, April 5, 2012


Any country you
can love or leave
is a country no
one in his right

mind would want
to visit. You
might as well
end up in Texas

or Arizona and
get shot by
someone who
doesn't have

anything better
to do.

Wednesday, April 4, 2012


To speak of a
subject is to risk
affirming what
cannot be correctly

understood. Silence
is its own reward.
It cannot pronounce
anyone's name. A

work of art trying
too hard to understand
itself is in danger of
turning into stuff

that can be used
for almost anything.

Tuesday, April 3, 2012


The sense in which
every symphony
(every work of art)
is unfinished is the

sense in which
nothing is all
there is. If the
work were in fact

finished, we would
have no interest
in it. Or we would
have no choice but

to throw eggs at
it until it stopped.

Monday, April 2, 2012


The monkeys we
sent into space
wept like grown
men upon their

return. Their thoughts
weighed less than the
thoughts weighing
upon our minds. We

bred our national genius
with our poet laureate
and obtained a poem
whose DNA matched

the DNA of our
national criminal.

Sunday, April 1, 2012


Some poets are not
above being understood,
provided any work
done on the surface

is allowed to stir
the deeper meaning
underneath. Gold,
confident of its

value, hides itself
in hard-to-find
pockets of greed.
I wasn't finished

when I said that,
but now I am.