The Little Words Mean the Most

Niceness is Overrated

I hope

Mutliple

Bark bark

dog dog in a library

looking for books

on an essential question for

canine interior decorators:

(ahem)

 

What material functions best

as flooring in a home whose

owners have paws and hard, sharp

nails?

Words in Progress

Me-ified

 

Here's one I invented:

MINUMENTAL

for things of little importance.

 

hogmacious

 

Remo on drums:

TIPICLE

 

Struffle. A false, or insufficiently aggressive, struggle.

 

Anth. Contradiction of "and the."

 

Welcome to the empty glass.

Shout Wallace! and get served!

Menace

A game of cowboys and Indians, soldiers

Earliest references

 

In my demanding bluster

Life Among the Upwardly Verbal

Stiff as a board,

depending on where your ancestors kept their root cellar.

Eh Jes Piquant

The squeaking hinge means

nothing, means indifference,

neglect,

happiness spent on other things, inwardness,

cooling breezes.

 

It doesn’t matter what you know.

So long as you know something.

 

Just don’t burn the eggs.

Just piquant anymore.

Eh jes piquant.

 

Everything I need to know

I’ve learned from an airplane toilet.

Clean up after yourself. Leave it

nice for the next on board.

A Simple Crime

Regardez:

Pencil shavings, a long note of.

 

Nothing

is as it scenes:

gentle tempest of French forks

crunch de pages

not a snore, but a susurration

a prehistoric dip

 

the child

in us

that steals

must don’t can’t have

and oui do, it is the adult in us

that gives away, death seems the cure

for awhile

suicide crawls our salt

 

then everything is taken by law, by selfishness, by custom, by time

Regardez

They light you up, pat you with a spade

 

Which’s why we built with pillars, very hopeful

 

Conspiracy sold separately

There

In that breath what is there

But history of the world

 

In the music inside the hall

What was there for him

 

Her again off again

The point that is of

An idle probe

Write Scenes. Not Words.

Well here’s a revelation.

 

I need an indexed Bible.

 

Foremost atheist of my kind.

Thyme

It's amazing what

you can do

with one plant

a slope and some poor soil.

 

You look out through any-age eyes

and in a mirror

other-age eyes look back

 

What you finally realize

is that your chronological age,

the stretched rubber band

between birth and

the other thing when it snaps,

is not an odometer.

 

OK

actually wrong.

It IS an odometer. But

you can decide the

length of each mile.

 

Some days anyway