fin

   it is isnt it

    after all

    it was

wet through and through

what is the innocence of rain?

is it the divisibility
or is it founded in the permeating quality?

is it as if the whole sky
is salivating hungry for them
that drink and grow,
that we see this likeness in ourself?

is it the loss of distinction
, one drop dissolving into another?

or is it the season in which it falls,
being the mildest of them all?

conejos

ears wide open
eyes parked right
left either side of nose
all potential
waiting to spring away
into the night
into the brush

carpetted

what is the sin of snow,
white and soft
ostensibly so pure?

is it the jagged edge,
the insidious nature of a crystal,
sharp and surgical?

or

is it the frozen heart,
ice cold center?

or

is it the origin of all,
falling from the sky
down to hell
had earth
not been in the way?

finally, winter

sun shines
reflected lines
slipping feet
shuffle street
tires spin
winters in

hello phone

hello
I must be going
I'm sad to say I'm on  my way I must
be going.

perhaps I'll stay a week or maybe I'll eat some breakfast
some butter on toast with a side of orange juice
florida oranges no substitutes

homo phone

sumo supposed to know
what was up but dribbled slow
slam dunked the can
but landed like fan
spinning fast pushing all hot gas
dont know if that will last
its about time what  time came to passed
step up to the plate and swing
if the strikes three that the thing
bring whole fruit and leave with the juice
fresh squeezed fresh out of vamoose
 

gramma phone

delta sigma not working your ways
running a gamma rays maze
but you aint in its phase
making what stays stay
and whats they?
theys bout paid to play
when the game is daze
keep your mouth shut if you got nothin to say
try me another way
maybe next time but today int your day
peeja  a town see you laaaaaaaaa

sousa fone

be kind to your web footed
friends for they may be somebodies
mother
then again
they might be a duck
or a frog nonetheless
pitiful without luck without a common sense to rest
their head upon straight from face
to neck legs a danglin
hands tied behind their back
evolved just enough to pass
from a tadpole
to a half who gives damn

muskee (part 3 of seven)

Finding the spot is easy depending on which spot we are looking for.  That is, finding the general area is easy.  Suppose we want to fish at the lighthouse or at eagle wing or at picton.  That is easy to do, in a commonplace sense.   In a precision sense, fishing at the lighthouse or at eagle wing or at picton is very open to interpretation or as jessy larkins says, “interpertation”.  For instance, the lighthouse can be seen from far away.  Plus it is on an island.  If the lighthouse is in view, does it count as fishing at the lighthouse?  Again, what side of the island counts as fishing at the lighthouse?  Depending on who you ask, the interpretation could be varied.  I will say that only the channel side of the lighthouse and down to 213 and as far out as the middle of the channel (but why would you be fishing in the middle of the channel?) can be construed as ‘fishing at the lighthouse.’  The other side of the island, the fishers landing side, would  be fishing the foxy’s run, strangely enough, even though its much closer to the lighthouse than foxy’s.   This is also more close to isle of pines, but no one says they are fishing at isle of pines.  

But suppose we can pinpoint an exact location on the surface of the river.  Getting in that spot and staying there is more difficult.  Due to strong currents and winds, it is hard to stay in a spot.  Finding the spot is obfuscated by the homogeneity of the surface of the water.  Then to find the spot, a spot, one spot, we tend to define it by the landscape on the bottom of the river.  Empty the river of water and you will see a very interesting geology.  Some places are large flats of mud and shells with the crazy erratic thrown out. Very deep places, I have heard, are barren moonlike landscapes where jagged or smooth granite rocks are covered in a thick layer of huge zebra mussels.  The topography is endless and variable.  In a relatively short distance the water can drop from 10 feet deep to 80 feet deep.  Such features, peaks, valleys, boulders, holes, swells, flats, weeds, are interesting to the fish and consequently to the fisherman.

Sometimes we know there are certain features in a certain area and we want to find them again and fish them again.  The best way is to actually look.  The water in the river is clear and thirty feet down is about how far you can see.  If you get into the water the visible range extends for a little farther. I myself keep a pair of goggles in the boat for just this purpose.  At the most simple remedy, the goggles go on and you stick your head in neck deep over the gunwales and take a look.  In deeper water or unswimmable times, the fisherman has modern technology at the ready.  This includes a combination of sonar and satellite guided navigation instruments.  The interpretation of the former and the accuracy of the latter are up for debate.  Instrument based navigation has its time and place but should not be relied upon solely.  The best guide is experience, patience, and good luck.

december suspicions

on cue
snow starting to fall
like the pallor of doubt
on boris gudenov
my brow wet with sweat
eyes open horse size
looking up and down the street
for a hearse to arrive
to carry the dead souls away from the door
they piled up stuck but not stabbed
they had what they had

Musky (part 2 of 8)

But we go out anyway. We go out to catch a fish, I mean, to try to catch a fish in the off chance that we will catch a fish. 

This is the peculiar conundrum that the fisherman is in; the fisherman knows that there will be no catch but hopes that this self-diagnosis is wrong.  Maybe this is the only time in history that one wishes, hopes, prays, that one’s self is wrong about one’s conviction and beliefs and projected outcome.  It is different than the meteorologist predicting an ice storm and hoping that it is just rain.  It is different because the meteorologist is reading signs in the sky whereas the fisherman is guided by gut instinct and is facing a north wind.

But we go out anyway.

The first part of the operation is dour.  The expectation, the knowledge even, of not catching a fish casts a pall over the whole preparation.  If the feeling can be compared to anything it is most like buying flowers for your own funeral even though you know that you won’t die until after the flowers are already dead, so what’s the point?

But we prepare to go fishing anyway. 

The jigs and the chubs and the plugs and the grubs and the rest of the tackle are taken out of their bags and tackle boxes and inspected carefully. The leaders are checked for frays and marks of abrasion.  The lines on the reels are examined and the first twenty feet are cut away and the leader is retied.

On shore the air is brisk.  Out in the boat there is a peculiar chill and its important to be dressed right. 

First one puts on socks and then underwear and then socks again.  Then one puts on pants and then puts on pants and then puts on a shirt and then puts on a shirt and then puts on a sweater and then puts on a sweater that has a hood and then puts on a scarf and then puts on a jacket and then puts on a coat and then puts on waterproof pants and a rain coat.  The final accoutrement is good boots and several layers of gloves.

A sandwich is made in a rush because you start sweating and cursing because you should have made the tea and poured the whiskey into a smaller bottle before putting on all of your clothes.  Also now you have to urinate.  Urinating out of doors is generally required because of the great difficulty in directing the operation with gloves on.  But the boots and waterproof pants are a godsend in this case.

All of the particles and components of a day on the water are carefully placed first on the dock and then handed one by one into the boat.  The last thing to do is to go back up the hill to the shed and find a large pfd that fits over the bulk of your shirt the other shirt the sweater the other sweater with the hood the jacket the coat and the raincoat.

At last the frost is kicked out of the lines and the cleats are freed and the sheets are brought inboard.  The motor jumps to life and you are happy to hear a strong engine piss into cold water. 

We look at eachother at this moment and say something motivational along the lines of “lets go.”

This is the first mistake of the day besides not making the sandwiches, tea, and whiskey before gearing up.  The mistake is to say “lets go” without having fixed a trawl to go to. 

The engine idles as the momentum stalls.

Muskie (part 1 of 7)

The wind was north and the river was calm here, the boat slowly stretching the tethers one at a time and bouncing back, a gentle and random disturbance.  Out behind the island the water was patchy where the air touched down in breaths.  One imagined the pattern to be a shadow of the tall pines on the island, but it was not so.  Far out on the open river far away from trees, the surface was blown in vast but delineated sections giving the impression that the air was far less isobaric than anyone ever knew.  I knew this would be a bad day to catch a fish and that was what it was; it was a bad day to catch a fish.  But let me clarify.  It was not a bad day to catch a fish, necessarily; rather it was a badly conditioned day to catch a fish.  

What where the conditions that made it particularly bad to catch a fish?

The conditions, namely the condition, was the north wind.  Ask anyone except for the cormorant if they have ever catched a fish when the wind was north.  No one ever has.  When the wind is north, the fish cannot be catched.  Maybe they want to be catched but they fail at that and we fail to catch them too.  

See, this is a two part system.  There is you (the catcher) and then there is the fish (the catch).  Both of you need to participate and meet together in order for a catching to happen.  And if there is no meeting there is no catching. 

Even without the problem of the north wind, getting a meeting of the catcher and the catch is difficult enough.  The river is big and the participants are small.

clocks ticks

faucet taps
trickled drips
steady sips
missing lips

more or less eleven

a vaccine of tea
hot down the gullet
the warmest part of the room
is the spot you are in it

optics

the light defines the shadow
but absent
the shadow defiles the light

strange figures merging with speed
periphery ghosts a dark mind sees
only the envelopes of a greater dream
leading edges or static referees

spruce

after falling, shed rather,
the needles pile up in an
orange to brown to black strata
some sort of rotting flag
or a testament to firmament
reduced, reused, recurrences

viscose

the waves are there to meet the wind
a perfect union of fluid saturdays
rolling on over to sunday
feel the breeze hear the seas

end of the road

as the yellow line
merges double into
one trouble steering
with a wobble bearing

part of the earth

today on accident
or semi on purpose
instead of ground coffee
in the pot to boil
eventually to drink
to digest and assimilate and extricate
it was black dirt
filled with mica and worms and pieces
of little and big deaths
racoons and leafs and carapaces of beetles
wooden rot and cast off feathers and butterfly eyes
and mushroom roots and rock constituents
but namely Si O Fe Ni C P H Ca K Na Cu Mg He
thats what I drank instead

rub a dub a dub

scientist in the tub
drinking gin and tonique suds
aquatic lifestyle club
double bubble buds
busier than a airline hub
business is gud

wednesday selloff

off the shelf
the goods fly
straight into bins
blue green grey
glass paper trash
the three elements
of a shopping spree
of a shooting spree
of a shipping spree
the health of economy
measured via
the wealth of democracy
we vote with our wallets
they said in 1985
and they said it again
on friday and monday
 

Big Boss Sloopy Cat

a nose split
blood licks
sticks to furs
thick over cuts
soaking wet
the fight over
the victor sober

the shooter or shooters

not only do we not
know how
many shot we dont know how many
they shot
or if they got away or got caught

what we need to know is what they had
for breakfast
and lunch
and dinner

if it is revealed that they (or them)
been eating exclusively froot loops
expect a full acquittal

consines and sins

extensions and complications
revisions and innervations
demonstrations and halibutations
palpitations and papalizations
participations and homogonizations
regurgitations and influenzations
nation-stations and innebriations
reclamations and bastardizations
frustrations and calculations
retentions  and explanations
 inventions and permutations

collusion b

pumping gas fingers clenched
cold saturation of vapors
nozzles dripping volatility
stock market prices
indexes fixed to the turns
of cement mixers mixers mixing cement
pouring a road from point a to poutine b

lists from a bigger more complete list

the find keeps
the roof leaks
the trees squeek
the hills steep
the greens is meat
the time is beat
the heat is on

black friday approacheth

a carpet
on your floor
as thin as a rope
the shirt
on your back
as thin as the soap
wash your neck well
waste not want not go to hell

latitude

the grass is green
down here
the leaves are meant
to stay on longer
some trees get this

continental dinner

I ate enough
not too much
but just the right stuff
stuffed in my mouth

cranberry
salt
potato
rudabega
butter
turkey
knifes
forks
brussels
plates
wine
gravy
apple pie
stuffing
pumpkin stuff

not necessarily in that order
but who cares if it was

lying on

on the floor
we can sit
or lie to our posture
suffering like angels
weight resting on wings
meant for flying

fundamentals

grains of wood
sawed for good
fire warm food

august redox

the air is thin
turned outside insipid
nips to the nose lips and grins
four fingers lump sums
turkey dinners frozen bones
warm water
old december

august november

cloud devices are mad
the sprinkle and spread
a tongue of fir
a voice of lead

nosbig

fingers snapping at
steel things
the ears pick ups
wood box rings me up
jumps and starts to fret

woke up this morning

when I woke up this morning

all I saw was sun

the sky was blurred

the leaves gone

the sun was shining way too strong

sailing

the wind whips up
the white caps
ripping your hat off
to fly back floats out
sinks beneath the froth
spray soaking your hair
blearing your eyes
you drink without a cup
these are the days
most dont give a thought of

nine or ten

nine out of ten times
leaves one leaf luffed
lives left for dead
return buds sill living vines
entwined grapes dry outside
slime inside sour mines

floating

legs pushing feet pulling
on aluminum steel iron carbon links
televangelical spokes distributing
stress out to the humming rubber
pressed bladder back against
the gravel blacktop macadam ribbons

sacrifice

the sun sunk
into a pumpkin
trunk cut open
guts pulled lit up

ponded

the canal has been left to dry
mud faces towards heaven on high
fish friends left again
river mode waves erode
a bank of stones
seeping homes
a snail must roam

oaks and others

old leaves
feeling the wind
hide the sun behind
a rain shower curtain
some of them twist and beg off
to become the ground again
as much a future tree
as a leaf we see

the fox

the fox went out
in the middle of the day
and swam to the middle
a big tail to float on
over to the next island
head above water
swim fox swim faster

last ditch

the last ditch
was a first ditch to someone
else, else
                 its a                        digit
                          first and last

confirmations

your flight will be make it
but
your baggage will be filled
with snakes
if you land in texas
or with minks
if you land in nfld

your popcorn wont pop

if you dont let it
or set it and forget it
remember to elect yet
another marionette

contradictions

orange juice
more yellow
than a carrot
in style

a stick
log in size
more slippery
than a shadow
in fog

a vision
more divisive
than apparitions
of immigrant lives

solid ice
less dense
than snow in july

what goes up must come down

what goes up must come down
from way up north to south
when the wind sounds wet
the dropped solar collect
calls telling them fall
what goes on must come off

ham instead

the menu
was written in the dark
in the dark where backs got turned
on tradition
on our principles
our shared principles of hate of the turkey
and love oven
where turkey bastes in his own juices
the ritual sacrifice

we leave that today
and have some bastard food
some sort of inhuman tofu
or even worst, some pariah of the farm
the pig
or the ham

why, I axe not a horse?
you would die of course

turkey in the straw

turkey in the hay
hey turkey
go away

no wait pleas stay
we want to eat you today

hat equations

the temperature
between the shoulders
conducts up a neck
and to a, what can be approximated as,
sphere of influence
confluence of vessels, surfaces,
bessel functions to trestle
the hat on top
an additional layer of contemplation
that I shouldn't have even start

second hands

the watch was stopped
not dead more dormant
a la cou grennouille
stacked in a mud
grave for a winter long
lung stuffed left on

This the time I left
it idled in state
waited perfect for the
time to wind away

and its must a minute
but its off

cou grenouille

the frogs neck
extends from his crack to his
hat
a fat faced plaqued onto a
green back

north country

the land of apples
crisp as the sun sparkles
on the wings of dragons
how certain angles
how the light breeze handles
the streams of air

open class

the seal surfaced
wearing shades
that fell off a face
a month or hat ago

this was the cool seal
pleasing the circus crowds crowding the beach
playing a duet with a string quartet
slapping that double bass around
like it was a bad idea

at that point, it was a bad idea
a bad idea to mess with this seal
definitely packing concealed carry permits
and crustacious bandits
without badges

gravity takes hold

its 9 am
the morning

I am on the floor feeling the carpet
why am I on the rough carpet
when the soft one is just a room 
away or another room with a desk
and chair
or table and glasses of water
is not far either.

sometimes convenience
is a matter of the gravest brevity

team supercool v biblins (round one): frogmonster live

vowels chasing consonants after the subject
an introduction to the last end
in this end a road hangs into the dusty frame
through perfectly dovetailed dessert mountains
jointed pallisades buttressed lemonades the sun fades
from creamsicle orange to playground poo
softer yet than the itch of a poison ivy shoe.
harder than talc, quicker than a gurthy advent candle
with more guile than the first leaves of grass in springtime
lighter than this metal heart, sweeter than a bitter herb
sumac swatched on the back now withdrawn
with stacky sap been slighted indigent bees alighted
prodigous, profane, apologetic to an extent
just here for a good time

the view from the other porch

the visciousness of rain in september
a blood shower written on white
part of each drip splits
a rim of fire
brass clasping on
oxygen or others
lamp light fighters
bugs loathe to fly
instead of which die

cormorant wind

my browned skin
border lined
now burnt
bearing the bluff
of sun concentrate
molten metal
copper toned tough

inks

we all have one too
sentences cents lint
pockets full of venison
heart scented mints

on earth one more time

the hand that feeds
these weak peas
rolling aimless and
well clothed even through
never hearing of a
starched collar
is last in line
to pick up the principle
martian of life.

judgement day

a whole church
of the earth I make
every stone and
stick a prophet
and placed in my
pocket makes
me a rich man
unsordid and
bronze.
for the reason of sunshine
I bear arms and
take a nap so that
later I'll be
still greater
than before

findings part deuz

watch a terrain
full a pulled
logarithmic advance
up the hectare
wellesley is but wasteland
by yourself there
with a friend
and wet pants

findings

the merchant is a slop
a climatologist, ancient,
in taste; effervescent
in loss
of words, tottalitarianistic,
holly berry, in touch,
and sum shine explosion of hatless brims
cool wicks sag to times
increasing non linearity
put out eyes
stair unfamiliarily

to whom it may concern

The phantasms of an ignored day

have reappeared today.

worst yet, 

no significant solution avails.

Preaching is at its worst, 

too.

Similarly, 

every animal comes, quite curious, 

with that hungry

look in eye, suspecting 

that rummaging around in 

the heap of hot burning refuse will pay off with a meal.

visions in the dark

the moon is lit
for the benefit of roots
leafs and things extinguishing light low
on the ground
the rocks fluoresce nearly
the contrast to the black understory
is blinding so we hop from rock to rock
staying clear of the grabbing sticker vines
sawing at ankles and toes

swamp things

the colors of a swamp
are arrayed in an indeterminate spectrum
at the bottom is brown water over black muck
frogs green tallow-yellow black brown and shining
wet is the name of the game unless its above the waterline
dry granite island bones and bleached sticks
deceased trees bitten to be horizontal
now the bridges over shallow water deep mud
cut grass adding a bit of fresh blood

first world problems

on the dock
the big heron stands idle
pondering the existence of fish
deeper in the water than a heron neck

the merry go round
ate my sandals
spun faster than
I could handle

tomatos

sitting beside me
a box of tomatos,
skin covered in a dirt haze
waiting in the shade
for ripe to bite

observances

the snow is soft
when it falls to earth
by the will of its seriousness

but at a clip
in the eye
it is as much the same
as tripping and falling
face first down an ice
berg facade

under the microscope snow
has edges and jagged
fangs that may be soft on the tongue
but bloody the ungloved hands

iconic reverence

paul revved his engines
the hours it took
to reach the heavens
eyes trained to look
lamps lit by the sea
to see which way they be
marching or rowing
towns heavy with sleep
hearing the echoes of flying feet
running riding sparks going

non-linear fits

what fits you like a pear of pants
an apple of doubt
and a peach of remorse

the traced ellipse
a surface remis
to feel teeth
protruding from gums
soft as the fruit rent

time is money
money is time

mine is honey
honey is fine

slime is funny
funny is nine

nine days later
its later in time

oval faculties

on the back road
the tar treated pine beams
8x8x8 or so slowly
evaporate in the hot sun
and descend down
to mix with the sour air
and acid of crushed crab apples
visited by feet, tires, and flies

three under water

terns taking turns

cutting hyperbolic chords

cambering up around down

the only bird
to whom flying
does not seem
a chore rather
a matter of act

two under water

the night rises from the deep
pulling the light from the sky into
the dark green zebra flecked mud
and from under there glows above
everything white ghosting
giving off a diffusion of fingertips
swimming on the back of sun black hands

one under water

the extent of work is clearly labelled
on hands and feet rubbed raw by sheets,
wire stays, and pinched apart fighting at the tiller
pieces of skin lost in the breeze
drifting back in the chop
forever apart
who bleeds in the river

optically limited resolution

occupational hazard
the carpools passing
through tunnels
the acres and acres
back behind
the eyes
where you cant see
and just have to believe
after a while
it all starts to seem
glass half full half flail

turbulence

from here to there
on the way to where
the avenues are tortorous
twisted and backwards
inverted and spinning
always spinning the infinite
tendency of traveling by
wheel through water

the threats to freedom

the threateners are threatening
freedom

unabridged desire
o the spirit howling
in the wilderness

like a beaver creasing the water
or an eagle sailing in slow circles
around the sun
bound to no one,
free to eat as much sugar
buy as many guns
shoot as many  bullets whereve wheneve howeve
free to get diabetes
free to be bad
free to be good

freedom is generous portions
its french fries with extra salt
the self determination to wear xxl shirts
its the love of the smell bbq in the summer
and a stack of pancakes at aunt jemimas house
in the winter

its threatened
the right to die of a heart attack alone in a pick up truck
is going to be taken away
its being regulated to death like the dodo birds were
like the sabertooth cat was not allowed to have fangs so long
because its too damn dangerous



they say that we are entering a new age
a new age of mass extinction

but its really a cover up
trying to distract us from recognizing

the extinction of life liberty and the american way

matter

as a solid
I can speak for myself
when I say

yes, I am, I am solid
I am solute
I am stored energy and other carbohydrated stuff

Sometimes I'm rich in iron
Sometimes I'm defficient in sodium

but of all the puzzle
 pieces most are missing

what the dickens

got the noseeums
bad slapping myself like
a man on fire
bugging out behind my knee
tickles up the shin
bitten over and over again
by an over active imagination

as they say
you might be a bit of undigested beef, a a
a boiled potato!

slim pickens

the grill lit
slowly
heating thin bars hot

and I couldn't help
no I couldn't help

but think
what idiot
 decided to put bars so small
that a hamburger cannot be supported
at all

as
I was fed
the fire was fed
scrambled beef
lean pickins

coulomb

the day started
with a bang
a double dutch rumble
the splatters pattering
ricochet down the jungle plants
the dirt slaked thirst
puddle brown blood
deep enough to drown a snail or
two spider webs ripped to shreds

and the night started the same
a reflection of dawn on the other side
of the horizon
black to back to black

the rupture, though,
of a flash, non-directional, green electric light
that color of fear
and the simultaneous crush
and doppler shift

a sneeze

out the window
an exhallation
the sky prespires
and worms come crawling
fast at first
and then faster later
wriggling into a pool
of fresh water with
a dust suspension

an ejection of snot
falling onto a room full
of worms

and do they even notice?  themselves
self conscious as they are not
always covered in a self-slime
 

duck weed, murk, mud, rock bottom

straight out the swamp
what more can you want?
black hot mud
flies harmonic
trying to find blood
the breeze stirred
by red wings
from pine to pine
sun baked sticks
bleached bones
frogs floating alone

lost an edge

my hips are permanent
and the bruises on either side
there for years now
show the spot
where the femur balls up

the ice is solid
and cold too
but I can only say how
hard it is for sure

stick it up mister

do that
I wouldn't do that
but that

hands on your hat

take the meat off the fat

villanous haze

whats above a haze
or bellow
the view from a hot air balloon

a boiled pear loom
weaving mushy fruit fabrics
steaming sticky stacky the most unpleasent
shirt to put pon your backy

pitch pine black

The trend can also be read that
as the temperature differential increases,
 the residual is increasing.  

the residue of a life unlived
its
like the skin of a raisin
really, its just all thats left of a grape

a grape that was something else
and now is a reason to believe
in the skin within a skin