Ode to Serendipity

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Oh to the

Serendipity

Of things

To the zippity-do-da

Of life itself

To the almost but

Not quite eternal flame

Of happenstance

It used to be

People would be killed

For donning purple robes

As Jean Louis had only

Just finished explaining
To me that morning
Over strong French Roast

And there I was

Standing online

At the Staples store

When this woman

Behind handed me the 

Purplemost pen

It seems we shared

An uncommon name

After a fashion

And quite miraculously

It enabled me to

To compose this poem

In haec verba

Not even yet

Outside the store

Ere these purplemost words

Were fully formed

Poem for A Desolate Angel

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This summer I read a lot of Jack Kerouac – first the Dharma Bums, then Desolation Angels, now I’m dipping into Visions of Cody.  It’s interesting to see how Kerouac’s writing developed over the course of more than a decade and how his spirit steadily deteriorated; in style he seemed ever more daring but in his heart he seemed ever more inclined to despair.  

I think something happened in the few months Jack spent on Desolation Peak. Or maybe it’s more a matter of something that didn’t happen.  He went in search of an epiphany and all he found was a trash heap.

So this is my poem for Jack, the Desolate Angel

 * * * * *

There comes a point
In Mind's development
When stoned or not
Becomes all but
Indistinguishable

It's a moment of both
Enlightenment
And grave peril

The stage has been set
Like hostages our
Fate hangs on the balance
Of a final act


To scale the heights
Of Five Phase Mountain
The question is
Can we ever be up
To such a task

A Few Things I Learned From Edna

To borrow a conceit

From the good lady

Edna St. Vincent Millay --

There are a few important skills

A poet must acquire before

He or she presumes to speak

On behalf of humanity 

East and West will likely 

Start to pinch at your heart
Unless you first learn how  

To pump with your ventricles extended

Wide open in anticipation
Of the oncoming beat
For as long as you can

And if your soul has

A propensity for flatness  

You must learn to navigate

Sightlessly just like a bat

Because the sky is probably

Going to end up caving in

On you sooner or later

Are You Social

Are you social

What’s your Klout Score

Do you host in the cloud

Do you disambiguate visitors

To your home page based on

Cookie or domain name

Do you tweet

Do you soar

More and more

These are the questions

That matter most

Whether you’re a corporate attorney

A con artist or a poet

It’s all the same

You must learn to reap

The harvest in these realms 

Of purely binary gold

5774 - A New Year's Resolution

It’s 4 pm Thursday

On the first afternoon

Of the Jewish New Year

5774 to be exact

And the resolution I wish to make

Is to connect myself

To the ding an sich

Or noumena or whatever

You wish to call it

In a more direct way

No matter what

Immanuel Kant has

To say about it

From here on out

For the rest of my days