Our Boy Is Bored

It all started on the day the boy first realized he was bored. Not bored because there was nothing planned for him to do, but really bored. His life had come to an impasse. It was a notable day because it was the day the family moved into the house across the street. They were this family who seemed to know how to be a family. The boy would come ambling out the front door with his dog, a German shepherd and they would run around the yard and they’d tear back into the house and the parents would talk to the boy and gesture with their hands and he could see the dog, in the background, bounding the carpeted staircase. Our boy could see this through their big picture window.
Our boy’s house was cold and there was no carpeting. The living room had a rug, yes, but no carpeted stairs, only slick hard wood. His parents were always working, either away at the office, or at home on their computers or talking on their cell phones. Oh sure, they would look down at him and smile and rub the top of his head and they fed him and put him to bed and all that. They just really didn’t seem to have much extra time for him.
He got the idea from the man who lived next door. The man’s name was Jeff and Jeff liked to work on lawnmowers, or so it seemed, by the mere fact that there were so many lawnmowers in his yard and whenever the boy went to talk to this man he was holding a part of a lawnmower with a puzzled or possibly frustrated look on his face. When Jeff saw the boy walking over he would try to smile. The boy said that he was bored. Not bored because there is nothing planned for him to do but really bored to death, like death will come soon kind of bored.
“What about that new boy across the street?” Jeff asked
“Naw! He’s too busy with that damned dog. They just go around the yard and back into the house. That boy won’t even look at me.”
“Well,” said Jeff, “That one’s a tough one. When I was a kid and I got bored I thought about diggin a hole to China.”
That was all Jeff had to say. Our boy went to the shed and grabbed a shovel and opened the bulkhead and went into the basement of his house. There was a spot behind a partial brick wall where it was just dirt floor. He started digging, not really thinking about China, per say, but just digging for anywhere he might end up. He threw the dirt back into the basement knowing that no one ever went into the basement as his parents were too busy to care about what lie beneath the first floor except when they needed to stow something away like tax papers. The basement was dingy and unused. Soon the basement filled with dirt and the tunnel grew longer and darker. Hours went by, maybe even a day passed. Our boy looked back but could not see where he’d started. At this point he figured that the only way out was to keep digging even though he was more than a little hungry and tired and perhaps a little lonely and scared, still, the only way out for him was forward into the darkness. When he was at the point of losing all his strength and the air was getting scarce, at the point when he thought death was certain and close at hand, he hit something like stone and it gave way and a blast of air hit him. He kept chipping away at the stonewall and soon there after he could crawled into a dank dark space. He thought, for a minute that he was in his own basement again, maybe somehow he circled around. Then he heard voices coming from above him. They were not familiar voices. No, these people were yelling, almost screaming at each other. Our boy felt around for a switch or a pull chord for a light. He saw the light coming through the bottom of a door above him. He discovered there were stairs, they were cold and made of stone. He began to climb them slowly, quietly as the noises grew louder. He turned the knob on the door slowly, gently until the door opened.
Our boy’s eyes were not able make out anything right away. It felt like he was coming to, waking from a dream of a dark night into the brightest of days. He walked out into a very bright room with a marble floor and granite pillars. Shafts of sunlight came through high arched windows. Tall vases with large palmed green plants were set symmetrical rows. A tall, skinny man brandishing a whip was smoking a cigarette in the middle of this large room. In one corner, a tall metal cage contained a striped tiger. There was a young woman and she was naked, running in circles. In the far corner of this vast room, sat an older man. The top of his head was bald. He gestured to our boy to come toward him. Our boy thought, “wow!” This is far out!” He walked toward the man and away from the naked yelling woman.
When our boy got within spitting distance of this older man, he noticed that the man looked different from any man he’d ever seen. The man was smiling at him and the boy thought, “Oh, I know who this is.”
“Are you god?” Our boy asked.
The man threw back his head and laughed. He had a triple chin.
Our boy was surprised when the old man spoke English. He looked like he came from somewhere else.

“No, I am not god.” He said, still smiling. “I am the Chairman. My name is Mao.”

Tidal Pool

So much more ferocious than panthers in a cage
the ghost eyes of ancient thought shot off by nestled cannons
with bone faces of a cool-rayed moon, six embryos embrace
their bodies float wily-nilly cast a jeweled light in the yellow sea

With eyes like beads of mercury they, submerged in the deep green sea,
some wear the preservation of life even in their death, their last breath
in notation they float above the heart abrasion, brothers and sisters
of an ancient order, disguised by many known by few

Bicycle Centurian

1

O wooden head on a bike
they're down on their knees
again

fracking behind the lids
they'll never
find a poem
in there

Just what
are they looking for?

"no one wants to help"

then again
who can trust
in God we trust

2

These spokes
with no center
they speak

and somehow to believe
in it all

perhaps chance

when we see you next
no arms
no legs

a fury bandage on the brain

those repeated images

kidneys out of the head
kidneys out of the head

3

We know you've seen it all
through the smoke

The mirror
turned in
on itself

The leather
embraces

The museum
with the peep hole

This is history

as hokey as you
may dream

and be a goner
for it

4

I can see
the lights

burning up

mauve night

as suggested.

Your guess as
good as any

to yell
into

the shelter

of another's

knowing

What else is there

I suggest

The blackest
of shadows

run along the roads

of an island

I've never
been

but calling

You say

okay...

Forever Again

this day like yesterday
gray and cold
must have a different taste

I drank the oak last night
and it tasted like forever
in a script I could not read

Everybody's having fun, but me
at 49, just searching inside the mask
for the eye holes and a place to breathe

then it feels like tomorrow
I guess I know what that is
I'll look for it in my haste

Blasting

Everywhere there is a pattern
It is not unknown to us
Still, it is not known at any known moment

What is it like to be knowable
it goes beyond

Why waste time on the unknowable
black marble vessel beyond this

someone whispers
it is your turn

It is my turn?
The milkman spinning in eternity

Blasting forever
into a vastness that has no name

Rattlesnake land
that is not to be tamed
even by the bomb shelter dweller

even by the smoke
between two veils

where songs meet the mind

She Knows

She

Like the moon

pissed or acting so


Yellow moon


coming up over the hedges


Mohawk shadows
from basement stairs

Painted blue

sidewalks
walking

downtown


I fell into bushes

and swam out drunk

in a lake of stars

avoiding cadences

Cover for all that is never done

and so knowing so

Pantoom for Alta

Today I got gonged by life
And it never feels good to get gonged
Even if the gonging can't be helped
I would like to think it would never happen

And it never feels good to get gonged
By the one you care about deeply
I would like to think it would never happen
Then it does and crushes your spirit

By the one you care about deeply
Who has lost the pulse of the moment
Then it does and crushes your spirit
And somehow you must regain a happy life

Who has lost the pulse of the moment
Replace this feeling with love and confidence
And somehow you must regain a happy life
The new world is always being born

Replace this feeling with love and confidence
To walk through life again with ease
The new world is always being born
A new child is always coming through

To walk through life again with ease
Then know a smile when it returns
A new child is always coming through
The voice of reason is always in replacement

Then know a smile when it returns
A shock like thunder from inside
The voice of reason is always in replacement
Help is always available to those asking

A shock like thunder from inside
All this abundance of confidence and love
Help is always available to those asking
Today I got gonged by life