Friday, April 30, 2010


smoked a cigar.
always with the cigar
was Nick. He slept
with a cigar in his
mouth. He never
burned down the
house once with
his cigar always
in his mouth. That’s
Nick all right with
his cigar.

Have a look at this
here. Here’s Nick
you see with a bingo
card in one hand, a box
of cookies from Moravia
in the other hand
and in between
his cigar his friends
yelling BINGO
in bowties scared
of Nick because well
it was Nick I mean
this Nick he’s a scary
guy what more can I say

and then
also there
was his

his unburned down
house, not pictured

it wouldn’t dare
burn down not
with Nick around
with his cigar this Nick–
he was a scary guy
with always the cigar.

Thank you, Molly Gaudry

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

MAY DAY, afterwards

Did I happen to mention?


Although I never ever say "I must read Andre Gide", today I did. Today I thought I must. It's all because of those legs pointed all wrong, and garmented in yellow. Of course when I thought about it, I thought that he might just be in the shadows – yellow can be a shadow, too, and I think that he is in the shadows here.

But that makes no sense, either! After all, you get pretty cold in the shadows because there is no light and there is no warmth and there is no heat. And yet his legs are pointing all funny! I mean, he isn't wearing a hat. Everybody else is.

Thank God for the choo choo train. It says "You can go wherever you want to." It's going from left to right. It wants to go to the right. It wants to run over 75¢. And more, in Canada.

Monday, April 19, 2010


Mostly I feel sorry for the old fashioned lounge singers.

Everything went well all the way through World War II and the

Korean War and even John F. Kennedy’s assassination. But

then somebody, I don’t know who, lit a stick of lavender incense and Vietnam, the aromas filled the room and it was no longer possible to sing LADY BE GOOD and THAT OLD DEVIL

MOON and ‘S WONDERFUL you had to sing things like LUCY IN THE SKY WITH DIAMONDS or EVE OF

DESTRUCTION and you had to lie down on the floor of the photo studio and let them take pictures of you wearing bell bottoms looking casual and groovy

with your hair grown half way over your ears in a little bowl cut and perhaps dyed black

and it’s hot in the studios. And noisy. It’s cool and minty, however, in the bars and lounges of yesteryear. And they have toothpick dispensers even. Of course the

only way you can survive this now is by thinking about the first time that you heard

LADY BE GOOD and what that lovely lady in the front row was wearing, a bonnet, and it almost looked like she was blowing you

a kiss in cotton floral print. Be good, Lady! Hooray! The war is over! Look at all the confetti on your

dinner jacket and how it wiggles and squiggles in your champagne. And if that isn’t bad enough, here we are now, we’re sweating, what’s that smell, and

the bell bottoms are a little snug, and striped–yellow, and seriously–purple and green.

TOBOR & Why Things Are The Way They Are

Nothing reads better
than ROBOT backwards

masculine, self-assured

but a robot walking backwards
is just plain funny or

you could say depressing
or even pointless but

I think I will stick with funny

First Thought, Best Thought

Monday, April 12, 2010


When I was a little boy, I had a pal named Ernest. His real name was Ernesto, but that is not the point. The point is: even though I didn’t know what it was to be earnest when I was a little boy, I liked Ernest, a little boy with curly blond hair and an easy smile. His basic decency made him a good friend. I was very lucky this way; now when anyone says: I say this in earnest, or He’s very earnest, or I am telling you in earnest: I am leaving for good, then I of course think of curly blond hair, an easy smile, Spain, goodness, and my friend who was very earnest.

Saturday, April 03, 2010


Today I realized that there is a great advantage to being 93 years old.
Kirk Douglas, for example, who is 93 years old, still holds a grudge that his son Michael cast Jack Nicholson in the role of R.P. McMurphy in ONE FLEW OVER THE CUCKOO’S NEST after he had bought the rights to the book for his son to produce the movie in 1975.

“God bless him,” Michael says, “he’s 93 years old.”

My Dad is just beginning to lose his hair.

“God bless him,” he says, “he’s 93 years old.”

Think of the things you can do at 93 years old and God will bless you!

1) Run red lights
2) steal from grocery stores
3) fondle women in those grocery stores
4) zip your fly less–a lot less
5) wear plaids and stripes and dots and more stripes
6) urinate at your leisure
7) start smoking cigarettes and burn down your house
8) *

* this one you can fill in for extra credit.


It’s 7:42 in the morning, Saturday, April 3rd.

I am reading about the web of a pumpkin spider that Jim Carroll ruined when all he wanted to do was touch it.

He probably didn’t destroy the web of a pumpkin spider at 7:42, but it’s almost for certain that the pumpkin spider was weaving his web at 7:42 on a Saturday. And on a Sunday, and a Monday, too.

At 7:42 in the morning on Saturday, Thomas Jefferson probably did many things, but we cannot say what they were. But we can always guess. He might have thought some great things at 7:42, he might have sipped tea and nibbled on corn bread, and he might have made a slurping sound sipping tea and nibbling on corn bread at 7:42.

Before him, Alexander the Great probably didn’t wake up at 7:42 in the morning on Saturdays. He was probably wide awake by 7:42. He might have been walking his dog. He might have been saying καλό παιδί! καλό παιδ! or: “Good Boy! Good Boy!” at 7:42 on Saturday. 7:42 was no doubt the favorite part of the day for Alexander the Great.

We can guess about all of this, and it’s fun, but we are left with nothing. But it is a very nice nothing. We will never really know about Thomas Jefferson or Alexander the Great at 7:42, but we can always guess and we can always ask our friends.

We do know about pumpkin spiders, though. We don’t have to guess. They weave webs every Saturday morning. And Sunday. Mondays, too. 7:42 is an excellent time to weave spider webs. The sun is coming up and it’s quiet.

Pumpkin spiders never think about the world’s leaders though. Ever. That much we know. The world’s leaders, though, might think about pumpkin spiders. Captains of Industry, they may say. Who knows? It’s breakfast time for them. Then again, that would only be a guess. This is the sort of thing that people guess at 8:05.

Here, now, is the sun.

It's 8:06.
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