Crazy is the New Normal

Crazy-is-the-New Normal

How long does it take to know you’ve cracked?
When I eat I taste knives
My son won’t talk to me, won’t
Let me know he’s alive and
I’ve lived for him

As a baby he close to died
Fever so bad it burned my hands, heart
Like a fluttering wheel
After that I could never leave him
If he lived I could hope
I’d take him to school, watch then cry

When kids hit him I hit them
When he missed school I wrote doctors’ notes
Smoking at ten, I looked away
One touch, one look, we were good

When he did coke I stuck him in rehab
Stole, I paid for the lawyer
Treated women like dirt but
I stumped his rent; I’m his mother
I kept him alive
And he won’t speak to me

Now I’m a bit like Mother Nature
Doing everything she can to save life
While it keeps roaring back to murder her
She and I will never have grandkids
We’re too old to be mothers again

Finally doctors bring great news
I’ll probably die before my kid kills me
I know that sounds crazy but I am crazy
I think Mother Nature’s crazy, too
Watching your kids destroy you?
Who deserves that?

Labor

Labor

Why does birthing feel like dying?
Pain so intense you conceive it’s pleasure
Part of the wonderful lie that this will be Great
As if suffering begins all happiness

Sex often looks and smells like combat
Birth it’s own successor’s battle
Sex and lust ending in blood and crusts
Such a short space to go a long way

Then the tourist from another planet arrives
Amazed, even more than you
That this giant beetle in a bottle
Dedicated to kicking you through every sleep
Driving you to hunger, exhaustion and insanity
Has rolled out whole
No parasite or tumor after all
A creature so needy, demands so incessant
You must love her to death just to survive

So that’s why it’s called labor
A lifetime job of unpaid work
If males could enjoy just one solid hour
Feminism would triumph in at least half
Not that they’d admit it

So why did I go through this hell?
No birth = no people
You heard right, males
Without us you’re nothing
Often, even with us

Portrait

Portrait


 

I was and am
Thief king fool man
All or one and none
People in crowds view each other
Only their children see me
 
I’m a museum piece
A mirage on a mirror
A man who became a painting
A painting turned into a wall

 
Each day I watch the golden owl sitting on its bell
Seeing much and saying nothing
Winking its eyelid to speak
 
The silence of what’s true
Bests the music of what’s known
 
I miss the winter stars
Cold, clear, and far
I cannot tell anyone
They are my real home

New Prison Rules

New-prison-rules


 

Effective Immediately – sanity sent to preventive detention
Honesty to protective internment
Arrests warrants have been issued for Honor
Officers are warned:
She may be accompanied by decency
Serenity to be placed in permanent exile
Suitable desert lands prepared
Bodi trees provided
 
Treason is no longer an offense
Laughter downgraded to a misdemeanor
But justice upgraded to felony
Robbery preemptively pardoned
Truth however must do hard labor
Hope already on suicide watch
 
Large gangs still run the short- term jail
As their business is business
Their work will remain unmolested

To halt further infection
New masks blocking airflow ordered
Inmate numbers reduced
Their quality improved
  
We salute our new chairman, Dr. Strangelove
He acknowledges release must always be temporary
Yet can be achieved
Applications require signed commitments
Agreeing to fight a lifetime


 

Rules for Sex in Space

Rules-for-Sex-in-Space

Never let gravity get you down
In heaven as on earth
Position may provide power, but do not trust thrust

Velcro repeatedly and without restraint
Always possess a firm foundation
Third parties bring stability but add complications

Touch means push away
Weight is no longer fate, but mass lasts
Hormones lose heat in the cold of space

As pooling erects problems, privacy turns priority
Zero G is not easy or free: check simulations first
Make darkness visible; radiation creates mutations

Have fun, just never in full sun.

Two Halves

Two-Halves

Love is built like lock to key
Two souls cut to fit and join
I learned self-surgery
Did everything you needed
Gave you what I wanted

Yet your loneliness
Surpassed the loveliness
Carved new sharp edges
Sprang the lock

Our cut heart won’t kill us both
Just yours mine
I promise to die politely

It’s odd, you and I
Almost made a whole soul

Unarrived

Central-Park

The day you were not there
I came to visit
A grey, damp morning you missed
My unannounced arrival

Lunch was as usual at noon
You did not show
I asked how you were
You did not answer
Peevishly I left the cafe
Waiting for your angry replies

We both should be here
But absence is the message
We deliver regularly
To the wrong address
If the body is a battleground
Were we generals or privates?

You learn from despair as it ages
More from youth once it’s past
What you wanted, I wanted
Is now out of reach

I’m still expecting you
When will you not come?

The Right Color of Eyes

The-Right-Color-of-Eyes

Her eyes are blue, she says
My eyes see green edged in emerald
Flickers of anger her tongue conceals
Her eyes
Different hues to different minds

She certainly saw love differently
An investment – joint earnings and coupled careers
Treated firmly like furniture and funerals
Death did not scare her
Part of a doctor’s job
Another opportunity to excel and
She did

Dutiful at work and hoarding secrets
Each cultivated with silent pride
If more came from her loving agreement
Just added interest on invested capital

She knew where she wanted to go
You might have your own notions yet
Would slowly watch
Every other path block up
You should see her way was right in the end
Of that she was sure

My position did not quite fit the plan
I wanted warmth, feelings acknowledged if
Not entirely understood
Sharing a sadness about life’s why and how
Not just tastes, career clocks, steady stocks
Yet we looked right, she said
Just right

Despite my folly she performed ably
Married another who fit her plan better
Climbing rungs to an admirable schedule
Doing good work damn well

Yet when you disagree on the color of eyes
They can flash signals
You may never read right


We Are Ridiculous

We-Are-Ridiculous


 

You take my hand in a cold white bed
Mouth mirrors mouth
My lungs fill with your breath
I laugh
You hurl

We are ridiculous
Even with the Eros thing
Intimacy a long haul horror show
Belching, sniffling, secreting
The closer we get the bigger the pores
Each night visit our skin’s lunar surface
Ragged blood lips, splotchy eyes
The failings and failures to come

We accept that we are ridiculous
The whole foolish shooting match
Perhaps that’s the beginning of love
Or just the illusion of safety
Either way I hope it’s enough

Fractions

Debbie-doesn't-do-Dallas-anymore

If I’ve half a brain
Can the other half be lost and found?

If I’m not yet whole
Can I add parts?
 
If I give 110%
Who gets the last 90?
 
If I give 1000%
Can I become ten people?
Will they be like me, or better?
 
If I’ve half a mind to let you know my mind,
Can I think with the last third?
 
If he’s half the man he was
Is she less than half the woman she wasn’t?
 
If you’re three fifths of a man,
Does two of you make a whole soul?
 
If an arm and a leg costs too much,
Is a quarter arm and leg too frugal?
 
If I’m well armed,
Might I use more than two legs?
 
If my heart is filled with joy,
Does it weigh more?
Can a scale tell?
 
If you broke my heart in half,
Am I forever half hearted?
 
Is the bottom of my heart
Steeper than the top?
 
If the whole world’s in his hand
How far can he throw an eighth?
Three quarters of a football field?
Less than a foot?
 
In the half light of day
Will I see the whole picture?