a real page turner

she was fair enough
nothing too special
in a peculiarly special way
je ne sais quoi but...
    a kreutzer sonata
    waiting to happen 

coffee alone

what happened to my muse
not a single thing
not a single damn thing
my muse stayed the same 
maybe even grew
still inspiring

'tis i, the me and myself
the sty in my own eye
saboteur of the ambitious me
the me trying to change
forever trying and maybe
just maybe succeeding 
for a nano day or week

yeah...
let me get a coffee
and start-up again 

variations on 2 richie b poems

that's where i see
your face baby
so many painted poses 
on cristoforo's toes 

taking off 
his designer 
brautigan shoes

is there anything
more beautiful than...
oh fuck it
who gives a shit

springhill, indiana
may 12, 2026 

 

The Richie B poems... here they are 

Discovery

By Richard Brautigan

The petals of the vagina unfold 
like Christopher Columbus 
taking off his shoes. 

Is there anything more beautiful 
than the bow of a ship 
touching a new world?

 

The Historical Interpretation of Red Armour

By Richard Brautigan

It’s the color of 
Christopher Columbus 
taking off his shoes.

That’s where I see 
your face, baby,|
on a tank,
all around the main gun.

a room with a view

chatting amid your plants
the sun setting on your wall
sipping coffee, an hour of
bliss, joy, serenity, basking
in the glow of you

april 24, 2026

 

dichotomies highlight
complexities existing
in our hearts, souls, and minds
warped by news and
fake news or just 
plain old propaganda

chanting never again
never again!
never again!!

to no! not again!
not again, no,
no not again...

we gotta do something!
we must do something!
it has to stop
can somebody do something?
say those who can't
do very much

grandchild of a genocide
of a genocide survivor
pulled every which way
by what we see
happening now
by what we see and
can do nothing about

reminds us
how they, yeah them, 
our tshnamis 
emptied us from our lands
and then dismantled
anything, everything
anything that mighta
shown we were there
we were once there 
on what were our lands 
our "we lived there
forever lands"

they destroyed 
our churches or
made 'em mosques
or worse barns 
now carpeted 
in işı budur
    but we still
    got the photos of...

    holy mother of god
    they just fucking did it again
    no! not again!

now others, once victims
are 'perpetrating' 
emptying others
new victims 
from their lands
their "we lived there
forever lands"

these perpetrators 
doing it better, 
more efficiently
emptying the lands
blowing up everything
all of their everythings

blowing up their homes 
with them still in them
they have to leave
there is nothing
no reason to stay
people gone 
evidence rubbled
    in one vile
    massive 
    genocidal
    war crime...

so what if, it, 
this crime 
every heinous act
documented and
social mediaed 
real time and 
we all feel lost,
horrible, emptied
sad, devastated
    many of us
    give a shit
    and no one
    no country
    no person
    that could make
    any difference does
    a fucking thing

war by remote control
the ultimate, efficient,
obscene, and vile,
violent abstraction 

drafted while listening to the 
laments at the TAYF concert 

a sketch of an etude

overwhelmed by
that unbearable
lightness of being

not trying to
rip off kundera
but he said it so
amazingly well

but the concept
oh yes, the concept
so very real
these days
probably real
all the days
of mankind

buoyed and 
anchored
simultaneously
by the precious
pursuit of, you know,
trying to fathom
life and love and 
death and disease
kindness and inhumanity
none of which 
ever
    go
        away

none of which
will we
    ever
        understand 

april 14, 2026 

 

 

 

unholy warfare

speechless
empty
gut punched
broken heart 
crushed spirit  

a village rubbled
a father digging
weeping and digging
in his ruined home
for his children
he already knows
are dead

april 9, 2026