The Perfect Image

Four pieces of wood, single and lonesome
connect themselves at each end,
clothed in stretched, milky white canvas -
become parents to my obscure vision
of an unknown place where red makes love to green
and Monet sits on a burnt umber hill against the horizon,
laughing as I tickle him with the damp hairs of my wand.
He tells me to find him fresh water lilies, proclaiming
his obsession for the pigment of my eyes
that swirls in shades of cobalt blue cerulean,
creating waves to wash away his urgency
and blotting acrylic over him with a single stroke -
placing myself on the hill against the horizon
to form the perfect transparent image.

A Mind Numbing Rant

Rich girls are like mosquitoes,
they get their bellies full of blood
and don't realize they've stung
until they're smacked dead. I wish
I had Marilyn Monroe's curves,
but then again
I'd be considered an elephant. I'd
smell like coconut oil, and live
in the Hollywood Hills, using
my field of green
to buy soft black velvet shoes.

I wonder what it would be like
to taste caviar - I don't like
slippery things. It would probably
make my breath smell
like dirty socks. I'd tell people
caviar is originally Iranian
and say "Wahman" (Good Mind)
as they handed me a breath mint.
The I'd show them my
"bling-bling", watching
as their eyes grow blind
from my SAC initial chain around my neck.

I'd scream,
"The SAC-meister did it again!" As I'd
run from the table, hearing mutters of
"How absurd!" and "ruthless!"
behind me. Then I'd hop
into my parked private jet -
an SR71 spy plane, and fly to Vegas.
the overpaid card dealer from hell
would give me back all the money he took.
He'd marry me and present a supply
of never ending lottery tickets,
expensive wine
and cheap cigars.

I'd take the cigars, and
build seedy model castles out of them.
They would each become corners
to my new found country - my "bun-kadag" (home),
and join their hands allowing nothing
to pass through their
guarded gates. Then I'd stand,
strictly upright on one of those cigar towers
and yell obscenities - a caviar eating,
Marilyn Monroe look-alike with
SAC initials and lots
of expensive looking jewelry.

Mr. Ab-doer, my Alien Friend

Slouched awkwardly,
forced to prop up
in front of me -
this muscle machine
called the ab-doer
intent on sandwiching
my bread rolls to four packaging

reminds me,
of a childhood alien friend
with elongated arms dangling,
and blue Styrofoam sidling
little knobs for ears -

he heals by touch
and radar signaling
phoning home.
Endlessly eating
his Reeses Pieces
favorite late evening
chocolate crispy,
peanut butter snack.

London

Staggering out of a small pub
thumping sharp disco beats,
she veers away to the cracked curb on the tiled street.
Avoiding strict traffic -
taxis careen the left hand side,
tires kicking up brown mucous
of once thirsty snow...

Murder hits her, a heavy ocean current
colliding into the breakwater
creating a whirl of dazed blindness
while pain engulfs her sides
turning ribs into blades, cutting skin.
It's veil drapes over her vision
as his anvil sidles her to concrete.

Rain Dance

Crackling
breaks apart
the curtains in the sky
and lights up a path to the heavens.

On ground, a stomp -
pressing dirt
thump
disturbs the silent air.

The cornstalks
are crying
like newborns at midnight.

Their mouths are dry.

Ten seconds, another
thump
moves threatening winds.

The chill turns to
slick water,
filling the wounds of the living.

And I-
tilt my head against
the soft soil
to listen.

Sleeping with Tetris

One night I fell asleep
to the dim glow of the television
hitting my closed eyelids,

the color hues shifting
from green to gold.
The game remote still propped in my hand.
My flushed cheeks pressed against

the arm of the couch
and a puddle of saliva
at the corner of my mouth.

Echoing the hypnotic melody
like a child blowing a kazoo
in my ear, into my dreams -
where the shapes still fall
down to form the next set

of four rows. Feeling trapped
in one of those square boxes.
having to rearrange the shapes
by turning them over and

over again. Feeding the urge
for the victory of the rocket launch,
and awakening the next turn.

Very Ape

Roger, King of the Apes
read the book of Genesis
to Vincent, his black panther
comrade, and proclaimed
"Those humans sure do got it all wrong!"
when contemplating the actuality
of human existence
in the depths of the Wambagasi forest.

This is how it went:
Adam attached Eve's right leg
to the top of her neck,
replaced her left hand
with her head instead.
He glued her nose on
as a stumpy tail and
misplaced her spine
for a leafy vine.

Along came Edna, first lady
of Apes. Seeing Adam, she stated
"It's not rocket science", while
rearranging Eve's head, hands, legs
and nose. Eve, standing up
looked at Edna and said her first words:
"And they say man is more intelligent than ape."