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Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem
some wise men
of different bent, ilk,
orientation and time, 
then our own,
prescribed four spice yellow smoothie milk 
to fortify the virtues 
considered natural and proper
by their standards and rules of the game:
swaddling was à la mode
cuddling totally uncouth
kissing directly offensive
guilt and shame not quite distinguished 
in the way the knights 
on a different corner of the earth
were busy worrying themselves to death about

these wise men- 
those alluded to above
up there in the stanza
hovering over this one,
-if hovering can 
be said to describe 
metaphorically 
what I am getting at-

had different playing regulations,
customs and comportment,
saying things like
what is the sound 
of three hands clapping
and where does the white 
go when the snow melts
or how many teachers
does it take to unroll
the carpet of the universe, 
and
thereby 
approached their world
using a different set of conceptual 
markers then the dualistic 
either or either or 
of ours

with words their meanings
seemed to make sense of
the meaningless mess in a 
way that deprived common
sense of the very floorboards
holding up their linguistic 
foundation
and as such put them back
in a wordless existence of
pure feelings and intuition.

yet 
by 
words
was 
how
they 
done 
it

can we undo our world by words?

we say:
this will destroy that
and point at the church clock
which destroyed the church.

we say:
until death 
do us apart
though we mean
until someone better comes along

we say:
how do you do?
great!
how about you?
great!

then the pragmatism 
of just keeping 
it going
keeps us going
until one day we scratch
our heads and keel over
and just before its’ all really
over remember what our faces
looked like before we were born.

it’s all a lava flow from there

cats and dogs do follow rules
though without our tools
to become fools
or mules
in our schools
nor collect jewels
fight duels
understand joules
wear bathing suits in pools
or by night tell stories about ghouls

Neither do 
they rhyme 
in time
but what 
they do 
do 
they do
in a 
way
perfect
-ly 
di-
vine

and always sublime 

even if they don’t play around with words
to make associations, connections, logical bridges 
and metaphorical relationships to create an architectural 
conceptual world where things like sub- and -lime immediately

evoke ideas like:

oranges, submersible vessels, lemons, underneath, calcium, texts, detritus, 
beetles, gin, mariners, and an infinite list of semantic non-sense that we humans 
use to find our way around the world

but the cats and dogs?

is there a homunculus inside them?
a canine puppeteer?  
a feline driver who steers down the road
“go left
go right
continue down straight
until you get to the intersection
where you will want to 
take another left
down about a hundred yards
by the second mailbox
is where you live
and the lights will be on”
?

how the hell do they do it?

this is how:

close you eyes
scream
dance
run fast as you can
get in a fight
stub your toe
yawn
dream at night
almost drown
lust for her
or him
anytime 
you want
just don’t:

smell the sound of being tickled
by someone you really love
who turns out to be a 
snake recoiled on 
your lap ready 
to say here
take it

for that someone 
just happens to be
the elephant 
in the elevator-

exactly the thing
i instructed you 
im-
plicitly 
to not
not 
to not
not think about

just do it lazy bones
drop the pants
hang loose 
reproduce 
and
let the meat loaf

if you kant do it
or don’t know 
hume to turn to
maybe just let go 
of those platonic 
ghosts and let
go of the ladder
after climbing up 
it so to speak

becuz

the world is filled
with unsayable
things

wonderful, beautiful, crazy, amazing things

so to speak
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