Vac U

They believed in what it was

They followed the path that the others

had laid out

They learned how to live in the vacuum

I wonder

If I was ever alone

in my rebellion of it

I believed I was different

I believed I was alone

But here, I see I suffer with the rest

There is something terribly wrong 

in the Institution

It will suck you up

if you don't rebel

But it's the rebellion that kills

It drives us to our half-dead state

Our teachers can't teach

Our students can't learn

Education is dead at the State U

Perhaps

there is a place for me

Perhaps I don't belong in school

But then, who does?

Who belongs to the death?

Perhaps they will tell me

that I am at fault

I can belong, but I don't

They want to help me learn

to live in the vacuum

If I go to them,

they'll let me know that they care

But why?

Why do they exist?

Why must I shake away part of my mind

to reach goals of prosperity?

I'm already believing

that what I feel is not unique

Next, I will learn to work in spite of discontent

Then, I will lose my life

I will believe in what it is

I will follow the path that the others have 

laid out

I will learn how to live in the vacuum

- Dec. 2, 1985, A.D.

I Am Still

I lie unformed

beneath the thick, cotton comforter

in a dark and sullen silence

I feel -

beginning with my extremities;

groping underneath the sheets,

touching the corners of the bed

then, touching myself

I'm feeling for myself

And somewhere, deep within me,

there is a tremor

I try to identify it:

I feel a strength

that denies my dependencies

I am still

                         complete.

I lie unformed

beneath the thick, cotton comforter

In this dark and sullen silence,

I have found myself.

- Nov. 10, 1985, A.D.

Poetry: 100% Pure Beef (or Vice-Versa)

I keep imagining

this amazing dinner party

where everything I have written

is served on fine china

- yes, even the brussels sprouts are there,

sitting in a little metal dish behind the potatoes.

My fire burns in candles

among waxed fruit

My blood is in the wine (sorry Jesus -

I took your line)

I think it's a Chinese meal,

whose appetizers greatly outnumber the 

main courses

But oh! if you can handle the chopsticks,

you're in for a real nice surprise.

One note, however:

When the fortune cookies come, don't look!

Just close your eyes and swallow the paper whole

That way, it will always come true.

- Oct. 16, 1985, A.D.

Soaking It In

I walk

merely for the sake of walking

I don't stop

or wonder. . .

I don't smile or stare or raise my eyebrows

to a thought

but I am open

I receive all the world.

Slowly, unquestioningly, I cross the pavement

The sidewalk feels firm below me

Just in front of every step, the stems of 

dead leaves glisten

the reflections of solitary streetlights

in the Autumn rain

I take a deep breath --

I smell life.

The water soothes me

I imagine myself an explorer in a rain forest

or in a moist, musty cave

or in a future world

I close my eyes

and hear the squishing of wet socks

against the sides of my battered shoes.

Underneath the trees,

the water falls bigger

and harder

Like people who accumulate so much for themselves,

only to find the force that holds them

dropping out from underneath

They fall frightened, confused,

and bitter. . .

Faces, hidden by umbrella colors

hurried feet

anticipation

I, alone, am relaxed

I do have a destination,

but it's unimportant

The rain gently touches the shoulders

of my trench coat

I bow my head,

and feel the water trickle down

into my skin.

- Oct. 14, 1985, A.D.

I Live

Part I:

Blissful

was that bouncing baby boy

Crying from the depths of his sacred soul

once again, I live.

once again,              I breathe.

you can tear me apart with your

cold, unwanting eyes

and you can break me down to half a man

but somewhere, there's a greater purpose.

I live.

and the snapshots began.

Part II:

And his life was spotted with occasions and traumas

tiger costumes and chicken pox

cavities and promotions.

The thirty-sixth woman became his wife

The thirteenth job became his life

9000 miles a year salary and commission

twice he missed a flight that crashed

three times the rental car was stolen

His brandy helped to soften the bite

of life's complications

The purpose that was so real and so powerful at first

was not enough to be graded as an essay

he was scolded

and spanked

So he set out to dissect and to be dissected

to learn the names,

to learn the capabilities of the human mind

he found his intelligence to be painful

there were many drawbacks

there were many occasions where he suffered deeply

and neared suicide

His purpose kept him going

but it was no consolation.

Part III:

And he climbed that hill of life out of desperation,

out of fear,

out of a silent hope that kept him empty

in his soul at night

Retirement came

he watched his grandchildren grow

into their own tiger costumes and chicken pox

and cavities and promotions

He stopped working

- he had always hated work

He stopped doing

- he was never a man of action

and he sat in his chair and he thought

his dentures clicked to a slow, contemplative rhythm

but a deeper stronger sense of purpose prevailed:

I live.

- Sept. 29, 1985, A.D.

Hesitant Vulture

Oh yeah

it's gonna hit me in one blinding flash

Oh yeah

I'm gonna know when the precise moment comes

Bullshit

I cannot guess what to say or when to say it

That damn ice age --

could it still be with me?

I can't find the answer in a poem

or an essay by Emerson

or a dream

or a desire

or a tarot card

or in me

I can't find the answer in The Other

The future has come

and I'm lost

and I'm anxious

and in one quick conversation,

an entire dream could be shot down

In an instant

I am vulnerable

two weeks could distract or attract

or perhaps the answer has always been known

perhaps it is waiting for me

I will resort to complete honesty

I will speak of myself as myself

I won't prolong myself to another day

Hesitant vulture

waiting for the right hour

for the perfect piece of meat

this meat may be hard to get

but the mountain I climbed for the view

was much harder

I will be myself

I will sustain

I may survive. . .

- Aug. 28, 1985, A.D.

Gone Fishing

Poetry

you have lost me

or have I lost you?

You came to me

when all was wrong

You came to me

and all was write

Poetry

you have evaded me

or have I evaded you?

- Aug. 26, 1985, A.D.