SUGAR-COATED SAWDUST

sugar-coated saw-dust

for those with no taste,

whatsoever.

and lost most of their 

teeth in last revolution.

concrete for dessert.

belly-up to the bar;

we'll wash it all down

with rot-gut booze

and reminisce over old lovers.

before post-traumatic stress,

was just plain old crazy;

lock 'em up; be done with 'em.

then wiser minds prevailed:

with some frontal-lobe tweaking,

much rest and recreation,

back on road to better times;

back to normal living.

at least as normal as possible

with post-traumatic stress issues. 

those of us, never having been there,

will never know. 

sleep with eyes wide open;

peripheral vision sees all.

trust: a speechless entity,

seeking poetic notions.

splash of light in darkest

of nights; no surrender.

brawn and brains; dance partners.

one does not negotiate with shadows.

resign one's self to the inevitable.

inevitable is everywhere,

and excepts only cash.

and hates poetic notions with a passion. 

February 17th, same old, same old:

cold, snow, wind, 6 heartwarming degrees!

have a strong urge to now the lawn!

nature is suffering. 

feed the birds, rabbits,

feed something while you're

sitting comfy in your houses,

while wildlife is suffering so.

and now this:

postmortem poetry

for those with poetry

coming out their nose,

their ears, and certain

places not to be mentioned

here or there for obvious

reason left for our imaginations

to play and deal with.

ANONYMOUS

speak, anonymous, speak!

speak now, or

forever remain doomed!

hero or sociopath? 

total sensory immersion,

while speaking heavy of

earthly tones, with a corridor

of bright red haze.

pirates! pirates! pirates!

nah, just cardinals in flight,

this time. pirates!

not to make assumptions;

a little bump and run.

no pride here.

take a number; take a seat.

if instructions too difficult,

then shuffle as a drunk duck.

take a number. take a seat.

an eulogy for dead drunk ducks.

subpoena issued for much less.

always a loophole, even here

doing this, and of course that.

there are many addictions,

but words? really? words?

overdosing on words?

stranger things have happened,

and will continue doing so

as long as humans fixate

on addictions for entertainment

and supper time conversation. 

down deepest, darkest, dirtiest;

luminal; special drink for those

too drunk to know.

odd as it may seem; prowess

of walking wounded.

from this point forward:

all autopsies held in secret

in honor of walking dead.

all those walking wounded,

fixated on dying.

invigorating, isn't it?

if there is a cure for humanity,

has yet to be discovered. 

all art, regardless genre, 

requires some madness. 

a ghastly aberration ate

my brain and died.

feeling so much better

now without my old dumb brain

holding back my train of thought.

no, didn't hurt, much. 

DOING SHADOWS

shadows inside shadows;

growing fitfully therein.

that, hiding within shadows

lives a stringent life.

harsh reality seeks a master;

seeks deliverance into

the light of life before death.

audacity of such behavior

seeks a golden path.

to whom it may concern:

the sun, our sin, is

scheduled for renovations

starting in a million 

years or so. so, for anyone

making plans for a million

years or so, plan on extra

heat and light, as it becomes

scary dark and cold without

sun to light and heat us.

this message brought to you

by the hot and bothered crew.

we should always, always

be aware of our surroundings.

never know when a manic

elephant happens by,

stooping all our good

intentions into manic soup.

certain to give us manic gas;

certain to destroy all future

good intentions evermore.

after a glorious 50 degree day, Fahrenheit,

back to single digit temps;

throw in some wind and snow.

ho, ho, ho!

will be interesting to see what route

poetry takes in next quarter century,

while waiting for another Charles Bukowski

to come along and light a fire under us.

come on, poets, light us up!

body shops are happier than pigs in slop!

have work booked up till next coming. 

folks, out there playing bumper cars,

on our lovely slip and slide roadways. 

ROPING THE WIND

he set out to rope the wind.

and he did; a rampaging gust

of wind came raging along.

and he roped it, and that wind

drug him to hell and back.

finally, he gave up; let go the rope.

and rope and wind were gone.

when she found out, she said:

that's it! I'm gone! and off she went;

chased down that raging wind,

beat that wind into submission,

gathered up the rope, went on home.

hand him the rope, she said:

There! That's how it's done!

geez! I married a wimp!

demeanor of such a ragged

mentality bent individual

shakes very core, what

humanity is all about.

yet, potential remains

for long stress free love

 affair between hockey stick

and will worn baseball bat.

winner take all.

crazy is a doorknob with

no door to open or close.

as is a poet with

no words to pose.

sign of the times:

in the space of about a year,

Rapid City has lost Sears, Kmart,

Herberger's, Toys R Us, and Shopko.

so much unemployment.

no one makes a living on minimum wages,

 Congress worries over foreign affairs,

while this country sinks closer to the abyss. 

do not believe in senselessness

without a whips and chains.

it is those chains and whips

making sense out of senselessness,

providing us with some

 sensational entertainment.

whoopee!!!!

from here, appears winter will last

well into July; possibly August;

depending whether February

will give up its hold on us.

and why the hell is February 

so damned angry?

EMOTIONAL OVERLOAD

a sudden flood of emotions;

and emotional overload.

and then, just as sudden,

emotions scattered

to the four winds;

far beyond any chance

ever feeding off these

emotions, ever again. 

breaking a few eggs

just to make a point

seemed quite pointless 

to all those hens

having laid all those eggs.

style is irrelevant.

style becomes lost between

up, down, and between

sheets of less and more.

no need becoming over wrath

in shades of style lying naked

between the here and now

in that cold winter air.

and today: Feb 15, 2019, more snow, and

of course, cold with wind.

even 4X4s finding the going tough.

and more of same in forecast. 

wonderful is a dog

eating its fill of

pancakes with butter.

not all questions have answers.

as soon as we understand this,

we'll be on the road to recovery.

RADICALS ON PARADE

chief investigator in any

given screwed up assessment

of any backwoods radical

group of misfits with

squirrel guns at the ready,

will, most certainly, shoot

the ass of any given

movement in those dense

shadows made up of

picturesque woodlands,

where anything moving

gets the shit shot out of it.

blond bombshells on

any boardwalk in any

overhyped country

with imaginations afire.

along with brains made up

of titanium with silver inlets;

jumpstarts on demand.

not to dignify this

freaking freak show with

discussions persisting on

blond bombshells expressing

favoritism in certain political arenas.

we should start a new sport:

shaving each other.

think about it; this could be big!

shaving each other everywhere,

anywhere, and yes, even there.

and why not?

there could be contests: best

of shaving everywhere, and there.

the crowds this would draw

would be phenomenal!

we're talking big bucks here, folks!

getting all thrilled thinking on it!

contestants: start your razors!

we know it's been cold

when 10 degrees above zero, Fahrenheit 

becomes a heatwave. 

BECOMING A GHOST

have come dangerously 
close becoming a ghost,
only to have a quick reprieve 
at the very last moment,
saving me from doom and
destruction to live and
fight another day and
play a game of havoc 
in the hay.

featured speaker in
our last free-for-all was
a mouse named Mouse.

well, Mouse, being rather timid,
even with microphone,
very difficult to understand.

especially with the free-for-al
going on all around .
and after the free-for-all,

no one had a clue about
anything Mouse spoke of.
title to Mouse's speech:

be nice to mice.
well, folks, that about raps it up
for our last free-for-all gathering. 

from this point:

stealth operation only.

that curious rolling gait,

requires scrutiny and

proof of life between

the now and the then,

where all good little

kiddies go to grow p

big and strong, 

if not so overly bright.

then instinct kicks in;

mementoes et cetera.

knowing full well,

cannot weigh assumptions

on any old scale.

takes precision and

great bunch of good luck.

and a pretty girl to

rub our egos when

we guys fall miserably;

and we guys will fail,

just for that ego rub. 

have never seen a February

displaying so much anger;

dishing out so much wind and snow.

and temps at zero degrees Fahrenheit.

whatever we did, February, 

to make you so damned anger,

we're sorry, very sorry.

enough is enough, already. 

WINTER TIME BLUES

when enough comes face

to face with too much

too far, certain liberties

will, undoubtedly, tarnish

the very essence of enough;

never again becoming 

a face of great renown,

having pushed enough

past point of breaking.

yes, this is a crazy world;

made possible by

you and I, then and they,

and all our relatives

and then and theirs.

and one could imagine

earth would love to

get rid of us if only

earth could do so.

its pizza week on Mars.

from galaxies far and near,

Mars will be inundated 

with pizza lovers. 

anyone without reservations

need not even try.

there is absolutely no

vacancies, and have not

been for several weeks.

next pizza week on Mars,

try planning ahead.

ceiling pushes down

floor rises up

walls push in

winter's cabin fever

claims its victims 

waiting Springs rescue

a bit of snake oil 

throw in some charm

a rascal is born

who's up for a good spanking?

anybody?

just hate to spank alone.