Some Sail Love

Wednesday, November 15, 2017

Some sail love. It is a river,
so technically, you can “sail” it
or at least glide down it,
you paper boat. You paper,
paper, paper, paper boat.

• • •

Rumination from Hell

Tuesday, November 14, 2017

There’s a fine line between “fine line between”
and other clichés that might be less accurate,
such as “might be less accurate” which,
while it might not qualify as a cliché, does capture
a certain idiomatic construction, as does “might not
qualify as a” blank; you know, fill in the blank.
But is there a fine line between “fill in the blank”
and other ways of casually expressing variables
in conversation—or a broad one? “Let’s grab
lunch at fill in the blank” versus “Let’s grab lunch
at wild card” or “placeholder.” Seems like a broad
plank in one’s own eye as opposed to a speck
in one’s brother’s. Brothers, I expect your planks
to appear even larger due to perspective.
PerSPECtive. And by “Speck” i mean your phone case.
That’s your phone: just in case. Fine line there.

• • •

In Heaven, Southwest

Thursday, November 2, 2017

In Heaven, Southwest 

boards C60-C1, B, families/

extra assistance, then A.

• • •

Happy Holidays

Thursday, November 2, 2017

If I were your Macbook
Or even if I were not
I would let you type on me
All the weird secrets
You claim to keep
For others you,
Let’s be honest, barely
Know: But that’s
Just me, as folks are wont
To say. That’s my deal.
That’s how I perambulate.
That’s my bank note.
That’s my Ponzi scheme,
As they say. My midriff.
My erstwhile succubus
Come back again to say
“Whattup,” you know?
And if I were your iPhone
I would let you
Call your mom on me.

• • •

The Crock

Wednesday, November 1, 2017

A man came to inspect my pickling crock.
He was an odd-looking man, about yay tall.
“This crock is cracked,” he announced,
and began to write on a clipboard.
Hearing high-pitched laughter I whirled
around and noticed several boys had gathered
outside my bay window to witness this
interaction. My goodness, boys!
Go out and find someone else to bug!

• • • 

Seth (“Someone”)

Friday, October 27, 2017

“Someone,” says no-one, for who
would say just that? My boo
says “Something” sometimes
to ease the tension our Catahoula
creates by barking nonstop,
but that’s way different—a polar
bear of another stripe, as they
maybe say. “Somehow,” Mom
says, “Your dad will cease
supergluing things in the crawlspace.”
We’re all supposed to laugh,
but I excuse myself to forage
for comestibles that might suffice
for dinner-time—taste nice.
“No-one,” says someone
on the radio tonight while our
guts turn loads of Ted Drewes
like ancient satellite dishes
half-buried in Alaskan snow,
“and nothing can stop us now,”
except, I add, the zero-bears
who, white as fuck, stand
mute witness to our camp’s ill-
planned perimeter. We dare neither
exit nor reminisce too loudly
nor breathe, even, but evenly,
my boo and me, our one something
formed as on two frequencies untuned.

• • • 

I Am Not Smart

Thursday, October 19, 2017

I am not smart. I am not smart!
The world all around me rings
in worldly din, and I sit here
surfing the ‘net and texting John.

I am not bright compared to you
or to the other folks we know;
when I was young I thought I was
the brightest light upon the string.

I felt so big and interesting
I possibly could have been king,
but now, an older fellow, sad,
I merely sit! I sit and click!!

Too lazy to change everything,
too small to make a difference,
and kind of unimpressed, in all.
As for the season, it is Fall.

• • •

Mystery Oreo Guesses

Tuesday, October 17, 2017

Lemon Candle Wax

Crème Brule w/ Hint of Battery Acid

Bittersweet Symphony

Stale Froot Loop

Limon Mildew Twist

Citric Drizzle + Mouse Droppings

Yellow Machine Powder Accident

Ancient Can of Pledge



Lemon Bar Bubble Gum

South Shore Mojito

Camelback Chardonnay

• • •


Thursday, September 21, 2017

I love my dog
and his big golden paws
and his velvety ears
and his furry white chest
and his blueish-black flank
and his irritability
when guests arrive
and his doggy smell
and his doggy tail
that whips our calves
and his sharpish claws
that claw our thighs
when he jumps
because when he jumps
he’s excited
very, very excited
he thinks he’s going places
going out to see the world
going out to traipse the yard
to nose-slide in the grass
to bite the frisbee
out of the air
and trot back to us
drop it, and sit. And wait.
I love my dog
because he sits
and looks up
with his ears pointy
and his eyes unblinking
and might lift a paw
if it seems a handshake
is in order.

• • •

September 27

Tuesday, September 19, 2017

belz final