a haiku in regards to studenthood

To be a student today
is to be a professional
to be a professional
today
is to be a student
figuring out what went wrong.

I am a Politician

I should run for

governor

no

senator

nay

president!

Why not?

The Cinderella story of

all

Cinderella stories,

better than the

girl surfing with

one arm lost to a shark-

or the boy calling

football games with

terminal cancer-

or the black man

running a country

who never knew his father-

America loves these

America is these

America is a Cinderella story

America has God on its side

America will support these-

like in Israel.

I will run on the platform

if he did

it, so can I-

and by he

I mean the governator

that big sick studly sunofabitch-

or

if she did

it, so can I-

and by she

I mean the Palienator

that sleek sexy snappy sista-

I am the next

JFK

but not Catholic

the next

Teddy

but not fat

ready to take it on

ready to take the lead

ready to succeed when

I am supposed to fail,

it will be a campaign

in Vegas

everyone will make money

everyone will lose money

everyone will be on a rush

in a blur

fearing

loathing

not remembering

drinking!

Outside E Street

Seahawks squak man

and a duck dives,

still on you trudge

still in Asia someone is unpaid

in the Middle East someone died

in Africa someone is thirsty

and in Europe someone smoked one too many cigarettes

so in Kansas some dropped a bomb

and in Tokyo some girl disappeared-

and the wise steps

in, to say-

when your young

you drop political play:

be it witty

be it gritty

be it true,

but brue you got to talk

relevant,

you got to spit me and you-

and I thought

about a teacher white haired and full of

robust nature,

and typed out of my mouth-

son all that is true

is relevant to me and you,

all that is real,

we can fael

it is in all the birds in the sky

it is in all the flowers in a field

it is in all the leaves on that tree,

don’t you see

it ain’t true

unless it is all, and it is

all, with you and me

and man that is

true-

and he puffed a poke

and spoke-

ah I see that was fresh,

you paint a picture,

that was real, but man

you got to just feel you got

to just fly…

this is the truth, it is a dove

brother a line free,

to me-

I let fly-

I lean against a lamp pole

and you glean against a wall

smoking a cigarette

and speaking all about

drinking a tea,

and here I am leaning

and speaking,

came out all mad, came out

talking of correcting my mom

not listening to song

man that was cause I had not heard jazz

and had not had tea,

and now

I write

and we speak and it is flyin’ free between

you and me

and man that is dig

cause they was playin’ Thelonius

and I was writing an application till

I heard, and had to write

somethin’ else,

cause man

it was Thelonius and Droopy

was on high

The Giraffe Catcher Poetry Hour

Listen in tonight for The Giraffe Catcher Poetry Hour on ksdt.ucsd.edu at 5:00pm

also check out THIS.

Eat and Write

How pathetic it is there be
a professional tour of poker
playing people?
and for men’s sports to be
coveted most?
as if they were female
bodies.
Not to mention, myself, alone,
on a date at a sushi bar-
writing and eating with pity-
going so far as to devour roles with
names of Philadelphia and
California, blah and yummmm!
Jibber jibber new year! jib jib
jib blap bop blop pop!
That’s it right there:
nice jacket, good shave-
good tablet, nice pen-
alone at a bar
can’t buy a beer-
eat and write.
Eat and write.
better than drink and mumble.

a tree said to me

if you can’t speak

to trees

then how come this

tree in front of

me is asking me

to say hi?

his face is tired

and his shoulders are broad

but hunched

and his mustache

is hardly trimmed

he has eyes cast deep

a nose that droops

and legs limberly

thin strong too

but with all this

to me he

says he is sad

that the building

behind is unkind

and the cars

that roar through

are quite rude

he says the sun

takes time to

shine because of

modern architecutre

and as it sets

off go his bets

but somewhere

i see a smile

a sucked in grin

a reminder to

chuckle

his little tune

ready to be spun

nature’s last breath

he said go home

be simple

Stopping through the Angels

On an eve, a
great warm wondrous
winter eve,
in a car on
a trip, in a lane
on the road-
stuffy car,
stuffy air,
warm green
saturated, stuffy
Orange county air-
stuffy stuffy stuffy stufy
Orange county,
greedy air-
greed fueled by church,
church field by state,
state fueled by money,
driving through while
stopping through-
nowhere to wash
my hands,
nowhere to go to
the bathroom,
just red lights
and white lights and
honks and burps and
hipsters,
advertising modern-
beautiful advertising-
bulbs of advertising,
bursting with stupidity.

Tonight's Show

These are the poets who were in the studio tonight...look out for a lot more of these things...also check out their stuff, cause it is really really really, freakishly good!

Ian schimmelfennig

Richard Chiem

Jesus Castiillo

Taylor Katz
(doesn't have a blog yet)

Also, check out the Facebook group page...HERE