Poems
The poet John Ashberry reportedly said that the problem with poetry is that language gets in the way.
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thank you and fuck you (Who am I to insist?)
she meant, well
a mother who won’t believe
(her daughter is getting high) despite the evidence
is to me–trying to explain how her inaction is action–
a fool in denial.Yet I know that there really is no action a parent
(”Please don’t do it anymore.”)
can take
that will make
a kid (”What?”)
stop (Using drugs.)
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To me,
my father was not just
a source of funds, he told me that many times
I was not just a boarder in his house, not just there for shelter and food
To kiss him goodnight–even when I was angry about the way he treated me–
was my duty
as a daughter
I was not just
there to make him happy, to please him, to serve him
but to be him…to be just
what he wanted and was not.
I pay tribute to him every day
just
by being
me.
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The Messianic Age
an idea What idea?
Messiah What message?
Moshiach
Moses
the commandments
the rebirth
of their truth
and revelation Shalom.
—–
Resolved: God Exists
the Sun
the Moon
the Stars
Humans
Animals
the Rhythm of the heart, body, and soul:
“Because
Because” it beats
“Play,” sings the body:
“Work,” it says back.
“Love,” sings the soul
in harmony
God exists
when each of us rises each day and does the work of God
So
Be
Good
‘Cause That
Is the way
You were meant to be
And God (Good Orderly Direction, writes Julia Cameron)
Exists
I Hope
even after
we
die.
(2001)
—–
Women’s Work
My dad used to say
to cook
to clean
to make up
the beds she’s come she’s welcome (does anyone ever tell her?)
We’re so busy
dusting
picking up
and putting down undone
(No, she’s not
made up to cook
to it) to clean
to do
so much
of nothing
—–
The penis mightier than the sword.
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Vicious Vainglory
The biggest car
The biggest stick
The biggest scar
The biggest prick
The biggest war
The biggest dick.
I swear this bomb it will not
The arms you bear
The charms you wear
The flag you pick tick tock goes the
clock
no no you had to be a big shot
didn’t ya
—–
Bijou Bijou Bijou Bijou
What to do with little Bijou?
Bijou is a furry friend with stinky, flaky skin
and patches of baldness
and bumps of old age.
Bijou is a noble pup
whose knowing eyes are sticky, goopy, and dry
the wisdom in them easily overlooked
as I pool them with $25 eyedrops 2x daily.
Bijou is a gem, a jewel
crusted over, left behind
by the forces of Nature
that do not uncover beautiful things.
Bijou Bijou Bijou Bijou
What to do with little Bijou?
Shall I continue trying to preserve the little jewel,
carrying it in my pocket
where it grinds at my hipbone
Or shall I bury it
So that my new blazing jewel
can be worn more freely
around my neck?
So that his tiny beautiful soul
can live on, unburied?
(2001)
—–
No one wants to believe her baby isn’t perfect
Brilliant as the moon, One among millions
Perfect.
A seed gone flower
A rock in a hard place
Darling.
Few could imagine what it feels like
to lie there
waiting to be held
One minute
you came into me
from me
From then on
weighing the difference between
Baby you (and you now)
Stronger than we are
made it.
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