TO A T (ELEMARKETER)

J as in Jackass
C as in Calamity
. as in dot/dash/semicolon
M as in Mother Earth
c as in Crushed
I as in Ice
L as in Love
W as in Whiskey
A as in Acronym
I as in Ice
N as in Never
E as in Ever

1st AD

i went deep
into the belly
of the big beast
that is the despot
arising resurfacing
before jogging down
some su-subway steps
into the swelter this time

WHAT DID YOU LEARN IN SCHOOL TODAY?

That I missed International Pirate Day this year.

That I need to go back to check out 826 Valencia.

That there's a furniture fabricator in the 'Burg
with mouth, eyes, and outgoing of a Zeben Curtis,
the type set in both physical and character traits.

That idiots abound, like the Sector 9 schmuck
playing chicken in the middle of 2nd Avenue.

That Anna Nicole Smith might soon be worth
close to 68,000 times more than me, worth
less she is, but God doesn't count the change.

That Krylon works its magic, makes me dizzy,
turning my heretofore baby blue eyes pink(ish).

SUBTERRANEAN HOMESICK MUSE

sitting atop the doubles
it strikes me hard that
there's this world below;
the planes on constant
strike arrows through the
sky, the ground moving
in miniature, vibrations
rumbling and stumblings
of the little ants like me.

SPUTTER.

i'd walk a mile for a (miss
ed that train of thought)..

WESTWEGO

every fucking day
it's longer, harder
to quit than the last.
my hair's falling out,
i'm getting fat, shrinking.
i just want to run and jump,
to kick, to score, to scream.
every decision hinges
upon the last, dominoes,
the scaffolding stretching
higher, my soul sinking.
i just want to break down
but i can't find the time.

FIERCE IN VALID HOME

sunlit after noons
perpetually push me
to the crutches
of beer and queers,
fags, that is, cigs.

BAPTISM BY FIRE (TBC)

Come the second (coming)
the Bible thumpers were thumping
their worn-out leather gospels,
the Baptists were baptizing
and singing His praises high,
the evangelists were evangelizing,
the televangelists trading souls.

I was left shrugging my shoulders,
slapping my palm on my forehead,
whispering "Whoops" after "What!?".

TEMPEST

at one and the same,
in one split second,
traffic stopped for
the crash, an early
model T, rexed,
wrecked on the rock.
man on stretcher.
the wind picked up,
the rain put down,
and orange leaves
fell from thin air.

START AN L TRAIN

Finally I found my hood.
Up from the subway to:
Quiet, empty streets.
Empty, quiet buildings.
No taxis, no trash,
No hassle, no hustle,
No bustle, no bullshit.
Just a health food store
selling Magic Hat and Spirits,
a coffee shop renting videos,
a dive bar and a deli.
Like Oakland Industrial of old,
My warehouse district of gold.
People all over the hood, join hands.

RUSTY

the
red seven
came out of
retirement today but didn't
stop to pick up passengers.

I SCREAM, U SCREAM

if that damn truck
doesn't stop singing
its stupid little song -
i mean, i like ice
cream and shit
but i'm about to
scream and shit.

S/HE SAYS

If she is grace
I'll take karma.
If she were brahma
I'd be dharma.

If she were dirt
I'd be a farmer.
If she were rock
I'd be Chris Sharma.

If she were sea
Then I'd be land.
She the water,
and I the sand.

If she were sauce
I'd melt like cheese.
She the germ,
Then I the sneeze.

If she were stars
I'd take the sky.
She a giggle,
I settle for sigh.

If I the question,
She the blushed no,
Then off to paint,
Off to paint I go.

FIRST AND FOREMOST

If the first constant is change
then the second is love.
Love conforms to no law,
but our laws, like a glove,
should conform first to love,
to embrace it and
to be in its service,
to further its cause,
which lies solely in
its continued abundance.

ACADEMIC BLOAT

Philosophy, and any other ophy or ogy,
(any study of any thing, for that matter)
came about solely due to
our insatiable curiosity.
Therefore (this is a big one in science)
any findings derived from such pursuits
must be viewed as constructs created
in response to the actions of the "universe"
and all of its little working pieces,
not as the actions themselves.

JOHN ROBERTS SCARES ME

The notion that laws (as we know them)
exist outside of the human sphere is absurd.
Laws exist for us because we created them.
They are akin to theories, linked
by us to patterns that play out.
They are, or should be
changeable, mutable, flexible,
and ever-changing.
They exist to serve us,
not vice versa.

CRE8

Our own human creativity

is both a blessing and a curse-

will it be our downfall

and kill us, each one, all

or will it save us

in our time of need?

Whatever the case

it will be innovation

that serves as

the tender catalyst.

YOO HOO!!!! FRIEND OR FOE!?!?

falling from thickly air
a flutter of breezy smiles
the little pig-yailed girl
lunges grabbing last second
the monkey bar rung throw
ing tossing her everything
at the next missing her
momentum stalls she hangs
looks down drops she steps
up and gives it a second shot

puddles in paved depress
ions reflect the buildings
and the bustle pedestrians
do everything possible
within their power to get
hit by passing flying taxis

i shake from my trance to
find my bus at the corner

i run ruffled for the first
time in a while i don't
have to wrench the doors back
open they are still
the old slow mover saves my
ass some trouble and time
could be a blessing or curse
maybe an old friend is on
the next bus maybe a new
one maybe no one my eyes
open to the best way to
face the fear day by
day moment to moment too
to enthusiastically embrace
the unknown infinite chance
infinite goof perchance to
take dancing lessons from god
(KV)

UNDERGROUNDSWELL

waitin on the F train.
if i could keep my mouth shut
i'd quit the noxious fumes
and stop over-shooting my stars.
stoppin on a dime to stop,
to reconsider the reconsidering.
to wait and to wonder:
where's the uckin F train?

A FIRM AFFIRMATION

i will neither dream the nightmare of wall street
nor fall fashion victim to the madisonian persuasion,
never worry my brow over systems of (in) security.
i will not give an inch to the bear and the bull,
its gains, losses, nips and tucks, slacks and jacks,
its spit and its polish, the opening and closing bells.
i've lost my mind in better
places, far off, out & over.
i am a child of the goddess.
i lust after lakeside coves,
nip at frosty mountain tops,
dream in constellations and
speak in love-soaked tongues.

SAVING GRACES

when the sirens are wailing in my ears
and i can't keep from wondering why i'm here
and the day's too much to bear, i fear
i wanted to get there but wound up here...
...i stop and settle in my mind
on all the space and all the time
spent this summer, these last short days
when i found my peace in subtle ways,
found myself on scenic mountaintops
or floating below clouds in glacial lakes,
back in haunts i thought i'd lost,
playing and singing and dancing
with friends i'd forgotten i'd missed...
it helps me to deal with all of this,
to put one foot in front of the other
without tripping falling spinning.
it keeps my eyes looking forward,
and keeps my fool mouth grinning.
and while i can't convey what
it means to have spent this time,
i'm glad i spent it -
it was worth every dime.

Y'AIN'T DYIN', YA HEAR?

yeah sure, you betcha, of course
i like sex as much as, if not
more than the next guy.
y'might say i'm in it to win it.
but at the end of the night,
it's the squeeze, the laying
there in a sweaty, unified heap,
pulling you closer than possible,
until there is no you, no me -
that's what really gets me off.
i guess you could say
i have a cuddle fetish.
it's when the two bodies
stop acting as two and
reacting to one, an other,
becoming one, together,
before fading off to fly
that gets me fucking high.

FIRE IN THE HOLE

I jostle over the heaving
cracks in the sidewalk
wondering why people trash
their own neighborhood,
spying the first seven
foot man I've seen in ages,
the jackhammers, oddly
enough, music to my ears
as an autumnal wind blows cool
on my freshly shaven face.
The kids playing hookie are
playing at killing terrorists,
but from the sound of it,
the terrorists are winning.
I run myself ragged, real-
izing the raw and the real.

BENT OF FENDERS

New York drivers
can be such dingbats
it makes me wanna make
a bumper sticker that says
"Practice not honking, asshole."

ROAD ZOMBIE

I'm somehow still on the road
but can't recall its passage
or recollect the many miles,
but I've choreographed
a "Green Eyes" guitar duet,
so I got that going for me
(which is nice on ice, alright.)

KNIFE ENDS

So tired of saying goodbye to family and friends,
so as this damn post-partem depression sets in,
i remember to remember that even in absence
my friends make me crack the fuck up in smiles,
that if I ever had them I have them all the while.

My friends are no karass.
My friends simply kick ass.
My fam's the blasted bomb.
From my nieces to my mom.

They make my world spin round,
put my feet back on the ground.
They keep me keeping time, and
tell me to drop the force-d rhyme.

SHOOT (FOR) THE MOON

I'll never write a "True Love Waits",
compose a "Jitterbug Perfume",
never ever pen a Hafiz poem,
so I'll write love letters,
my masterpieces,
to myself.

TAIL GATOR CUTTER-OFFER

I'm a better driver than you
with no hands on the wheel
and my eyes squeezed shut
cuz yer driving makes me sick.
And the highway's filled with
wannabe heroes just like you
on their "last-chance power-drive".
You are some dangerous jerks.
So I sit, fighting to keep my
antsy middle finger clenched
tight in my little shaking fist.

PISS ON EARTH

It's too much
when the past
and future smack.
Sometimes I
have to kneel down
and kiss the Earth
to stay in this
time and place,
to keep from spinning
into orbit around
said point in space.

SLOW MOTION

Back windscreens twinkle,
speckled like stars ahead,
over-powering brake lights
and mounting frustration.
I see so many lights
at the end of the tunnel,
psyching the delia
of my lately mind.

WHEN

When I get in my car singing "That girl"
and Bono helps out on the second she,
or Junior Gong echoes as
I think to type "calamity";
when I call one just
as one's calling me,
when I'm thinking of her
and she's thinking of me;
when the sign on the
highway says "Yo, JC!" -
I know I'm in the moment
in which I'm meant to be
and the journey is a joy,
and I feel so f**king free.

THE UPSIDE OF NOSTALGIA

Some days, mostly Sundays
old memories come flooding
back, random moments, sights,
sounds, smells, sentiments.
all the people
all the places
all the music
smiling faces
dancing bodies...
My first kiss at Blueberry Hill,
The dance hall as a child,
heat waves spent on the Beach,
the mystique of Hungarian forts,
playing king of the dock at the pond,
playing stairball with Matty,
bike rides with the Russian,
a number of endless days spent skiing,
picking strawberries with Moms,
the Saab and the smell of apples
on the way to soccer games,
taking sweats at Prickly Pond,
late lost nights with Loren,
the drive to and from the Wetlands,
replete with burning seats,
outtie in the Audi to the Went,
glow-in-the-dark frisbee nights,
the endless summer to end all summers,
show after show after show,
too many to name, only they know,
spring mornings and summer evenings in Montana,
my first XC trip with my Dad,
late night exploratory walks at UCSC
with new friends in a new place,
Andrea showing up at Penny's,
sun-lit afternoons at 526 Mission,
the cocks crowing in Soquel,
watching the sun rise over
West Cliff at the Chico house,
a Los(t) summer with my Angel(e)s
bouldering at Indian Rock
with Anthony in the morning,
the climbing gym with Shannon,
oystering on Tomales Bay,
day-off morning coffee on
the Claremont back porch,
late nights decompressing
with Maya and bowl and beer,
bumping "In a Little While"
across the Bay Bridge with Alex,
the fucking "Californians" etc.,
making art with Andy and company,
some afternoons at Turtle and Castle Rock,
the Spiders/Kidsmoke jam,
nights with Keith and Erica,
karaoke upstairs with the Mob,
flying kites at the Berkeley Marina,
mosaicing the shower, dot dash semi-colon
and ping pong at the barn with Fife,
surfing with BoomBox,
volleyball Sundays, soccer Tuesdays.
As the future collapses
on the fleeting present,
melting into days passed,
though this time flies fast
and the now never lasts
and these moments move
too quickly into the past
I will have them forever.
Tomorrow today will be
but another old memory,
a reflection cherished.