Mortaljive: The Rest is Silence

There is no still point in all the Universe, and that is the rock upon which I stand

Saturday, December 03, 2016

Existential Apiary


hello, said the bee
i've come today
to collect me some pollen
and then fly away

i'll fly to the hive
to visit the queen
her drones guard the way
assholes supreme

i'll develop a plan
to hide in the halls
when all is quiet
i'll rub my balls

i'll rub my balls
releasing a scent
the queen will respond
she'll know what i meant

well, that was the plan
but i ran out of money
so it's back to work
producing the honey

such is the life
of this sad honey bee
but it's not so bad
at least i'm not free

***

Thursday, November 10, 2016

Portland Oregon November 10th 2016



the talking man on my computer
bringing tales of brass and pewter
still he hides the country in the back
people marching in the street
standing where the shadows greet
the hollows where the ancient ones fall back

into the fractures
into the labyrinth
into the fractures
into the dark

buckets of pure adrenaline
drunk by vagabonds like gin
looking for a favor or a foe
standing in the city streets
turning forward, or retreat
no one's left who knows just where to go

into the fractures
into the labyrinth
into the fractures
into the dark

like jesus
like andromeda
like disneyland
like america
like the beggars
who keep begging evermore

someone played the mandolin
someone sang of rapturin'
someone broke the window on the ford
they crossed bridges where the millionaires
drank snifters filled without a care
the banks would never snip the bloody cord

into the fractures
into the labyrinth
into the fractures
into the dark

like jesus
like andromeda
like disneyland
like america
like the beggars
who keep begging evermore

***





Saturday, October 22, 2016

At last, just like ambrosia



i’ve leaned in to lennon
danced to tom waits
walked in the moonlight
a skull as my fate
music’s the river
lyrics the lake
but when the dam opens
that fool took the cake
we eat it like ambrosia

shakespeare’s the poet
joyce is the dream
guthrie a vagabond
who riled the team
the leaves are of grass
the androids serene
no one is lifted
in this digital scheme
we eat it like ambrosia

too many to mention
too few to leave out
too many emotions
retreat in a rout
but weaving in wonder
and waving the wand
is america’s mystic
our own blond on blond
we eat him like ambrosia

so turn up your heels
fall down to your knees
sway in the wind
laugh in the breeze
we once had a fella
who sang with a twang
bob dylan, bob dylan
when at last the bell rang
when at last and at last
when at last and again
at last, just like ambrosia

***



Friday, October 21, 2016

Construction


god made the underwear
and god made the tea
god made the slimy slug
he made sean hannity

god made the universe
kind of like a b&b
god made a mess of things
but god made the trees
so god can't be completely awful

***

Sunday, October 02, 2016

Not the sense of it


rise of the condiments

it will all make sense soon:
the glass containers
plastic bottles
monkey dishes
little packets

all of them agree
that what goes on the cadaver
should have a certain familiarity
something common and recognizable

ketchup, mustard, relish
mayonaisse
childhood garnished
ah, but later on...
cumin, taragon, cholula
sprigs of cathedrals
aromatic fatimas
sauce upon sauce

and yet

a squeeze of lemon on a fish's eye
makes the waiter cry, cry, cry
spread the eagle on the plate
dine upon the country's fate
and cry, cry, cry

***

Saturday, August 27, 2016

No More Ooh in Ooh La La!



Ebbing Flowing Darkly Inky Controversial Black Burkini
She was delayed when she came to the water
She was disturbing to those who could see
She was delayed when she came to the water
She was delayed by the powers that be
Du, twa, qua–no more ooh in ooh la la!

It was an ebbing flowing darkly inky controversial black Burkini
That she wore to la mer on that day
An ebbing flowing darkly inky controversial black Burkini
Down on the sand where she started to lay
Du, twa, qua–oh mon dieu, no ooh la la!

She was unafraid to be out in the open
Some people snickered, crying “ha ha”
Unafraid to be out in the open
Only she could see what she saw
Du, twa, qua–no more ooh in ooh la la!

It was an ebbing flowing darkly inky controversial black Burkini
That she wore to la mer on that day
An ebbing flowing darkly inky controversial black Burkini
Down on the sand where she started to lay
Du, twa, qua–oh mon dieu, no ooh la la!

She’s like a seal having fun in the water
The surfers are eyeing her keen
Just like a seal having fun in the water
On the front page of Surf Magazine!
Du, twa, qua–no more ooh in ooh la la!

It was an ebbing flowing darkly inky controversial black Burkini
That she wore to la mer on that day
An ebbing flowing darkly inky controversial black Burkini
Down on the sand where she started to lay
Du, twa, qua–oh mon dieu, no ooh la la!

(plus ça change)
Let’s go surfing now!
Everybody’s learning how
Come and wear Burkinis with me!
Come and wear Burkinis with me!

Image of woman in a Burkini from here.

Hat tip to Juan Cole of Informed Comment, whose post about the Burkini issue inspired this parody. 


Wednesday, August 17, 2016

Tell Me No More


he was sorta a preacher
sorta a friend
wore a suit and tie
the king of goddamn

he got on the telly
and said we would burn
but the rain came and flooded
his every word
yes, the rain came and flooded
his every word

down in louisiana
they got stories to tell
girls in the windows
boys in the well

so many want mercy
so many want love
from way down below
and from up above
yes, from way down below
and from up above

(chorus)
tell me again, preacher
'bout the fire next time
tell me again
water to wine
tell me again
and again and again
tell me again
then tell me no more

the preacher man's house
it could not swim
it sat in the muddy
dumber than sin

god was a punisher
punishing him
down in the muddy
dumber than sin

(chorus)
tell me again, preacher
'bout the fire next time
tell me again
water to wine
tell me again
and again and again
tell me again
then tell me no more

ain't no rules in heaven
except there's a hitch
god don't like being
your little bitch

next time the preacher
cries in the south
fish will come swimming
right out of his mouth

(chorus)
tell me again, preacher
'bout the fire next time
tell me again
water to wine
tell me again
and again and again
tell me again
then tell me no more

***


Sunday, August 07, 2016

Little Birds Far From the Pain



Some dentist down south sent me an email
wishing me a happy birthday
I've never been inside of that office
and have no idea just what I should say

Somebody on FaceBook wished me a good one
kindly they were, kindly to care
I've never been inside of their thinker
I'm sure it is lovely, like a magical fair

Hey, hey, people from nowhere, people from clouds and from rain
Hey, hey, people surrender, sending me little birds far from the pain

Some bastard in Texas remarried his ex's 
time and again and then time and once more
I wonder if champagne tastes good in the summer
somewhere in Texas is an answer for sure

The dog is so pretty, so sweet and elusive
she runs in the yard like a pony so grand
Should I feed her my birthday, so she'll live forever?
I'll give her my years if she'll bark with the band

Hey, hey, people from nowhere, people from clouds and from rain
Hey, hey, people surrender, sending me little birds far from the pain

For humans in ruins, for laminate widows
For sorrow in strangers who stare
I've never been inside of their thinker
I'm sure it is lovely, like a magical fair

Hey, hey, people from nowhere, people from clouds and from rain
Hey, hey, people surrender, sending me little birds far from the pain
Hey, hey, people surrender, sending me little birds far from the pain

***

Tuesday, July 26, 2016

Groceries


claw your way to the other side
see how the other half digs
just make sure that you come home
and bring us a basket of figs




Saturday, July 02, 2016

The Emptiness of Hikes


i think today i'm yearning
for something in the sky
what it is exactly
i don't wonder why

like poetry of cloud forms
swirling into tapestries
the great vault of space
also yearning for the trees
yearning
but never pleased

up above the city
get out on the trails
find yourself no longer
vanishing behind the veils

i live in the age of opinion
of comments and of likes
you cannot show a picture
of the emptiness of hikes
yearning
for the emptiness of hikes

i think that i can't add up
all the things that i have seen
there are no equations
that ever will quite bleed
but this is not just ranting
this is not the thing it's not
i'm yearning
it is all i've got

***