Kandahar



I wish the snow and cold might come so I

can feel fiery young and smoke again



with abandon, surveying with my inherited colonial

eyes the Merrimack river, and feel renewed



in dreams I've yet to part with and with dreams

I might yet love (I place my palm upon



her soft cheek gently in her sleep). I wish this

night was long as all the days I've wasted



drunk, fucked up, scared, alone etc.



Finding nights within such compass may

save me from a stupid fate. Meanwhile,



the talk on T.V. tonight here is gunfire,

Kandahar, Afghanistan, cigarettes smoked in dust,



Shit. And what a fucking shame about

this boy. And it is a fucking shame,



this fifteen-year-old Afghan boy lives

and dreams of peace, oh shit, oh shit



oh shit

maximum least



At maximum least

This drinking is the gentlest of foes

Even the stomach acids burning

represent the minimum bearable

conflagration



Oh, whatever.

A slightly vague feeling, this emptiness in the absence of total abject loneliness

and sexual desperation



When your girl is good and sweet and pretty

She grows on you like real and utter hair

More essentially joyous annoyance to contend with

Hey, pictures don't lie. And I've never looked so happy



And since the high-art tradition contiues to mundanely ravel out like the spurious undead

Let's call to mind Dali's "Persistence Of Memory"

Those horribly melting clocks in some interminably sheer and barren

wasteland



I feel that way lying in bed and in the shower and sometimes at desk at work

Trying to put together the intricacies and plot points of images of the not-so-distant-past



I especially feel that way upon thinking of my dormant guitar

What an irrepressibly boring and repetetive board game these rounds can sometimes resemble



And what mitigates this truth now is the absolute certainty of such states not being in any way

contained or limited or determined by geography - only by proximity of self



Present, hopeful, tangible dreams of beer sustain us

In our basement

And such smokes as we have are smoked sparingly with reverence

so to obtain some ripple of our lost ancestral humanity



I could smoke now but I'd rather with a brother



These times ain't easy where our dearest hope is neither sold nor told

INSIDIOUS



What follows here is a joke

a booze

and come stained elegy

wrapped in ocean of

green smoke,



a bright corpse



cooling on an autumn beach,

a mutant benediction,

a bastard hand,

a stump



All openly confessed feelings

are the same feeling

one way or another



I have my priorities.



I am the rude author

I knew I would be.



I thought myself shadow born

to an unknown mother,

then left in a tree stand to die.



Found by a half-wit, raised by his sister.



A taste of copper in my mouth for years;

how could I have known

what it was I had tasted?



I told all I could

and heard it said later

that others had said it earlier,

better, more precisely.



With more seeming truth.



I said I know my own use,

and repaired to a bar.



Then another.

Another.

Another.

LIVE FREE OR DIE



Let me understand

I want to understand here, badly



Can we block out

some kind of symmetry here?

Can we broker a deal?

I promise you I'm gonna live free or die…



You keep your blood, I keep mine,

or else can we trade?



Either way, I don't care

Just let me feel

the same way I did before

not so long ago



red wine stains

low tables

cigarette ash

snow, no hope



though there are mantles of light

30 thousand miles high,

we're all toiling down here,



scrabbling, grabbing,

screaming at the other motorists



Wanting to get laid,

getting laid,

and then you can't come



Falling drunk through the brick streets

of a city once burned

by Sherman



Every normal template

burning my eyes, I see



sick hallucinations

And Sherman Burned It

1.

Riding away from Atlanta

lone traveler

in the heavy amber dusk



one more bag of meat

speeding among 8 teeming lanes

of steel, upholstery and dismay



bald rubber whirring

on the purple asphalt



the most action I've had in a year



weirdly sensing

the terrible

refractive otherness



everywhere



as the creeping

ember fringe

of my cigarette

burns me



yellowing my fingertips



the joke pre-apocalyptic wind

issues hard and fast

over the sideview mirror



whirling ashes,

peppering the confines

of my dark Nova



oh me oh my

driving away



hey, stubble chin

hey, worn out cotton shirt

hey, jack shack purveyor

hey, licker of black palms and rocks

hey, mute psychotic entity in the strip mall parking lot



who do you think you are, unnerving well-groomed

southern ex-sorority girls

in Japanese sedans?



go away



red tail light phalanx

drifting ahead



red

gas tank needle

creeping toward "E"



when I notice this

is when I come

to my senses



Where am I going?

Why am I going?



quick panic at the thought of how much money do I have

knowing it's not too much



but in the end it's enough



now pull into the Exxon

now self-conciously operate the pump

now make my way to the counter

now pay



now ride back out



onto the highway



into the night

immodest proposal



FUCK IT

I'M FINISHED



LET ME SEQUESTER,

EXPUNGE TRIFLING CONCERNS,

REST, AND EXPRESS

A CLEAN WORD OR TWO



OR ELSE DISEMBOWEL ME WHOLE

VIA

SEXUAL HYPERBOLE,

MENTAL DISTRESS,

SELF-PREDATION,

ALCOHOL,

BUZZWORDS,

BANTER



AFTER ALL,

THE OLD DAY JOB

COULDN'T BE ANY MORE DULL



BUT IT PAYS



I NEVER HAD A PROBLEM NOT CHALLENGING MYSELF



THIS NON-PROBLEM

PERSISTS



TO THINK OF IT:

WALKING AROUND

FOR YEARS

IN ARRESTED ADOLESCENCE

PERUSING RETAIL OUTLETS,

MALLS, BARS, CURBS,

GATED COMMUNITIES,

CONDOS,

PROMOTIONAL BEER TENTS,

ARTSY CHICKS,

BISEXUALS



CAN'T CORE OUT OF IT SUFFICIENTLY



THE CASUAL NON-CLEVER BULLSHIT -

CAN'T CORE OUT OF IT



AND OH YEAH

WHILE YOU WERE AWAY

THE COUNTRY'S

GONE

EVER FURTHER STRAIGHT

TO FUCK-ALL



FAT, STUPID, EVIL

BASTARD MAGGOT SLIME DEVILS

ARE NOW MANNING

THE FLAMETHROWERS



TRAINING THEM ON BABY CARRAIGES

AND A HOMELESS PERSON

NEAR YOU



IT'S BEEN LARGELY THE SAME

MOST OF THE YEARS

OF THIS FREQUENTLY PERNICIOUS COUNTRY



BUT IT'S WORSE THESE DAYS

MUCH, MUCH, MUCH WORSE



(BANK ON THAT)



THE BEAST NEEDS NO IDENTIFICATION

HE'S BEEN PRE-AUTHORIZED AND PRE-APPROVED



MOVE ASIDE

LET HIM THROUGH



CREDIT OR DEBIT?



SLOBBERING HUMAN BARBECUE

FIRE ETHIC

SKIN MELTING OFF FOLKS

FOLKS DROPPING, FLAILING, EXPLODING



IN THE ETHEREAL BLOOD MIST

(AS REPORTED IN THE TIMES)



UNNATURAL ACTS...THEM'S GOOD EATIN'!



GOODNIGHT!

immodest proposal



FUCKING A

I'M FINISHED



HOW THE FUCK

AM I SUPPOSED TO GET ANYTHING DONE



WHEN I CAN'T EVEN WRITE?



JUST SEQUESTER ME A CLEAN HOUR OR TWO



AWAY FROM TRIFLING CONCERNS



WHERE I MIGHT

CLEANLY EXPRESS

A CAREFULLY HEWN WORD

OR TWO



EITHER THAT

OR DELIVER ME WHOLLY

TO PORN AND DEPREDATION



MY LIFE AIN'T EVEN THAT HARD



AFTER ALL,

THE DAY JOB COULDN'T BE ANY MORE DULL



AND I NEVER HAD ANY PROBLEMS NOT CHALLENGING MYSELF



AND THIS PROBLEM PERSISTS



I REMEMBER THE DAYS OF WALKING AROUND



(PICK YOUR CITY)



PERUSING BOOK STORES, RECORD STORES,

MCDONALDS,

BARNES & NOBLE

THE STAR BAR

AND THE SUBWAY INN



IT WASN'T NOTHIN' THEN

AND IT AINT ANYTHING NOW



IT'S ALL THE SAME BULLSHIT



I CAN'T CORE MYSELF OUT SUFFICIENTLY FOR LOVE OR ART



BUT I CAN CORE LIKE A MOTHERFUCKER



FOR STUPID, GLIB, NON-CLEVER, UNFUNNY BULLSHIT



THE COUNTRY'S ALL GONE TO FUCKING HELL



FUCKED OUT AND WHIPPED OUT



BY FAT, STUPID, EVIL, WHITE MOTHERFUCKERS



AND I DON'T GIVE A FUCK



IT'S LARGELY BEEN THE SAME FOR MOST OF THE YEARS

OF THIS PERNICIOUS COUNTRY



AND GOODNIGHT

And Sherman Burned It

1.

Riding away from Atlanta

a lone traveler

in the wide amber dusk



speeding among 8 teeming



lanes

grinding upon the purple asphalt



weirdly sensing

some refractive otherness



creeping

cigarette burns



ember fringe



yellowing my fingertips



whirling ash

peppering



the dark confines of my Nova



driving away



stubble chin



worn out

cotton shirt



red tail light phalanx

drifting ahead



red



gas tank needle

creeping toward "E"



when I notice this

is when I come

to my senses



Where am I going?

Why am I going?



quick panic at the thought of how much money do I have

knowing it's not too much

but in the end it's enough

when I pull into the Exxon

now self-conciously operating the pump

now making my way to the counter

now paying

now riding



back out

into the night

were I Sherman, I'd burn

1.

riding away from Atlanta

teeming 8 lane road

amber dusk, grey asphalt

cigarette cherry

biting my first fingers

whirling white ash

in the dark confines

of my Nova



riding away

simply driving

90 degree angle

of stubble chin

above cotton shirt

mind chattering

worse than the radio

Tupac Shakur

recently dead

Nas positing,

"If I ruled the world..."



red tail light phalanx

drifting ahead

red gas tank needle

creeping toward "E"

when I notice this

is when I come

to my senses

"Where am I driving?"



quick panic at the thought

of how much money

knowing it's not too much

but enough

when I pull into

the Exxon

self-conciously operating the pump

making my way to the counter

paying

riding

back out

into the night



2.

in the low rectangular confines

of the bar

hunched at a table

along the

dark brick walls

sitting in

red leather seats



ashing into brief

aluminum trays



I outline my theories

to my friend



the world is changing

some of us are changing too



I crush the end of my cigarette

into the top of my hand as proof



hysterical laughter



he thinks I've lost it

but is half-crazy himself



both of us look like

the seediest scumbags

you've ever seen



what passes for education notwithstanding



the only girls we're

fit for

would have to be



drunken and emotionally disturbed



and even they are dressing well

these urban nights

and smell eternities more alluring



than our stink of

cheap beer, smokes

and desperation



3.

I can't remember how

that night began



but it was late dusk



and I had become familiar enough

with the railroad tracks



running behind

one of the trendier coffee bars



in Marietta



to feel imbued with the place



after all, I'd sat there broke

had cribbed notes seated along the wall



had wallowed in the full confusion

of lonely yearning



anyway,

I felt comfortable enough



to be wandering there

in the first itchy clutches

of another experience



me and the one friend I had at the time

Jeff



were at another bar nearby that coffee spot

much more mainstream southern american



pulling on any number of beers

and smoking

alive in the knowing

that we'd be awake for hours

immune

to the effects of drinking



at some point we decided to drift down into the city



I remember now,

he drove



we rode in his 80's brown Ranger

down the wide highway

until the city lights rose

dewy constellations among

the monoliths of buildings



and we spoke of the city

its huge unknowing grandeur



we rode and the milk Georgia night

pulled the smoke from our lungs

out from the truck

into covert madness

2 TVs



thank the peaceful

quiet



my girl and dog

rest quietly

upon cushions

in the top rooms



I'm down here

in the white light

of the cellar pit,



carpeted clearing,

cool drywall

abode



down here

one TV

mutely plays



another

chatters loudly

above me



the world's gone to Hell



so any clarity of mind

must be precious

reckoning



here,



the faint marking

of renegade insanity



fuels the souls

of innumerable

invisible

mannequins



invariably sequestered here



8 feet under

the earth

with me



glass beings

plainly bearing

enigmatic stripes

of madness,

forgiveness



hashmarks in blood,

feline declinations,



attendant only

upon my need

to discern



huge saccharine music

suddenly swells

in the stairwell



one more

horrible TV show

playing out



where my sleeping girl rests



pausing,

not typing



I turn emptily

to the mute portal

behind me



TV

can't quite quell

all the substance



down here,

my implacable figures



do not care