April 22, 2014

Spread the Joy

The not-quite-yet-exhausted subject of love
will be celebrated and lamented by others
and myself at Beyond Baroque,
681 Venice Blvd, CA 90291.  Saturday May 3rd, 8pm.

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April 22, 2014

The Indifferent Sublime

Sublime_NEW

Immerse yourself in sorrow, rake over pain.
Let the novelty of feeling something
wash through you in purifying waves
again and again. But kindness is unnerving,
tenderness hurts, and empathy
can be an excruciating form of martyrdom.
At the end of the day – when all is unsaid
and undone – you’re better off numb.

April 5, 2014

Let me grace you with my absence…

If you feel up to celebrating National Poetry Month, I will be offering poetic solace and stimulation at the Redondo Beach Public Library. Monday April 14th, 6.30pm. 303 N.Pacific Coast Highway, Redondo Beach, CA 90277

Tottenham

 

April 2, 2014

The Portlandization of Los Angeles

Some further mean-spirited observations:
totty

 

http://artillerymag.com/tottenham-corner-5/

March 23, 2014

CVI

Past Prime

Contact with anybody
who has produced work of quality
fills me with an air of thwarted yearning empathy,
an implausible sense of fraternity,
a melancholy sting.  Regret and resentment
gnawing at me, eating me alive.
This is what you reap
when you haven’t sown anything.

March 1, 2014

Yield to Total Deflation

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Where the Fourth Wall meets the Glass Ceiling.
I will be giving it a good seven minutes of my worst.
Monty Bar, 1222 W.7th street, LA. March 6th, 8pm.

 

February 21, 2014

A soft insidious plea

Self-Sabotage

If anyone’s interested in acquiring any of the drawings
featured on these pages, it can be done fairly painlessly
by contacting me at this address: otiosity@sbcglobal.net

February 21, 2014

Chair, Sofa and Bed

Repetition

Between these three points of love
and sloth (mostly the latter),
I flounder.  Resting, without laurels,
restlessly.  Pausing between pauses,
to inventory this harvest of  regret;
to consider from every angle of  unease,
this permanent rut… to forever name remainless,
staring at a curtain.

February 12, 2014

Moved

I Love You

This death, as opposed to my other deaths,
feels dangerously like spring.
A catastrophic waste of time,
but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

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February 7, 2014

Time Unregained

Pretend

At this point it would be impossible
to make up for all the lost time.
I might as well try to settle
for a serviceable desperation,
and strive, at least, for resignation:
the long hard process of resigning myself
to the choices I made
by not making a choice.

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