Man comes into this world without his consent and leaves it against his will. During his stay on earth his time is spent in one continuous round of contraries and misunderstandings. In his infancy he is an angel. In his boyhood he is a devil. In his manhood he is everything from a lizard up. In his duties he is a damn fool. If he is a poor man he is a poor manager, and has no sense. If he is rich, he is dishonest and is considered smart. If he goes to church he is a hypocrite. If he stays away he is a sinner. When he comes into the world everyone wants to kiss him, before he goes out, they want to kick him. If he dies young, he had a great future before him. If he lives to ripe old age, he is in the way. What’s the use, life is a funny proposition after all.

— Norfold Seabag

the gypsy came with bottles
of brightly colored grace
and the smell of Tuesdays’ rain
he scattered with his left
a shaking tin of pennies in his right

all my remaining pieces
leathered from the dearth
a restless mass of miscreants
they bark and beg my ear
yet lie to me about the cost of war

the petitioners are circling
around my broken palace
they clamor at the lattice
and point their picket sticks
in the direction of the supposed deluge

 all my remaining pieces
are tumbled smooth
stripped of tooth
unsorted here in fractured stacks
upon a fissured floor

in the parchment hues
of afternoon
the rainmaker passes his hat
he says I look good in blue
as the talking points slip from his sleeve

all my remaining pieces
some recognizable still
fettered eyes fixed to the sky
as toes cajole the cinders
they dance their rhythmic rite aside the fire

am I to believe this fiction
a droplet that can swallow up the past
yeah
me and Henny Penny

i have a wall of light
my cube was happy
maintenance man came around
with tubes of mercury
and fixed the unbroken fixtures
now the exquisite light is polluted
with bogus light
an unfiltered torrent of fluorescence
angry 
angry at the light I did not ask for 
angry at the world and the intrusion
can I stay a while
too much to ask
too much to hope for
in this homogenized habitrail
this civilized place
to stay a while unearthed

tumblrbot asked: WHAT IS YOUR EARLIEST HUMAN MEMORY?

When I was 3 years old, I remember standing in front of a huge glass wall of water… my dad was to my left and my mother was to my right…and Eve, my twin sister was right beside me.  We were peeking past the iron bars that separated us from the ‘wall.’  Within the wall, were giant, mysterious, slow-moving creatures… a shark… a school of fish.. a mane-ray.   A giant sea turtle paddled by … and on its back… someone dressed like Aquaman.  I asked my mother about the man…she said..”he’s taking care of the turtle.”  My eyes were dinner plates.  I did not know where I was at the time… but many years later, I asked my mother about this ‘dream’ of mine… and she says, oh, yes, we were there…

Sea World, 1970

wreckless
aware
you atop the flying bridge
me in flight
furious embrace
choking the vastness
lethal
epic
charged
cataclysmic undertow
lurching forward
reverse-thrust
wings flailing at the surface
tendrils tossed
lost and swirling brush the coral
down
down
down
into the void
unavailing eyes
heart ruptured from the depth
dispossessed
quiet now
return to her
as if I ever had you anyhow…