Nietzche
Bluelighter
Cavaet
should this verse appear
consumed in future volumes of context
take note the freeplay of presence and
absence, pen and paper
free verse and chained,
but give them not more
than a momentary pause
for their inclusion may well
be a silent trap
to keep hidden the best
by inducing us to rest . . .
A Waffle House Poem
like a train wreck
her eyese could not be peeled
from the underside of the booth at waffle house
[and mine could not be peeled from hers]
Blue Balls! Green Balls! Red Balls and Gold!
Strung lavishly around the necks of the patrons
Across from our booth
Distract me from the less than shining substance
Of their discursive occasion
[“Look at them big ‘ol balls!”]
Seeking inspiration [but hiding from the best]
I’ll pen the innocuous and derive from it the rest . . .
that this venture aims to achieve.
Would Keats have found beauty
upon the Elysian table tops littered with cigarette butts and coffee cups,
or Homer a short order epic inspired by the
Muse in stained apron
and name tag belonging to Amy . . . ?
And did I find mine
in the presence of those whom
epitomize . . .
the words obnoxious and annoying
appeared quickly scrawled upon
that napkin wiping clean
and blank my slate
[her delightful smile amuses me]
Smoke filled and teeming
with faces familiar
accusations pending and thoughts
demanding to be explored
and exposed before the
midnight inhabitants of a 24hr diner . . .
Larry will provide the security
I determine from the
kitsch encrusted tee-shirt and
novelty hat. Oddly, sitting across
I feel distinctly less than secure . . .
because earlier at their table
an uneventful arrival and departure had
ensued
prompting adulterous sensations
as my pen glides effortlessly
across scattered pieces of notebook
paper bearing the weight of this verse.
For tonight familiarity has bred
not contempt
nor security
but a feeling of joyful anxiety
for days patiently awaiting arrival . . .
should this verse appear
consumed in future volumes of context
take note the freeplay of presence and
absence, pen and paper
free verse and chained,
but give them not more
than a momentary pause
for their inclusion may well
be a silent trap
to keep hidden the best
by inducing us to rest . . .
A Waffle House Poem
like a train wreck
her eyese could not be peeled
from the underside of the booth at waffle house
[and mine could not be peeled from hers]
Blue Balls! Green Balls! Red Balls and Gold!
Strung lavishly around the necks of the patrons
Across from our booth
Distract me from the less than shining substance
Of their discursive occasion
[“Look at them big ‘ol balls!”]
Seeking inspiration [but hiding from the best]
I’ll pen the innocuous and derive from it the rest . . .
that this venture aims to achieve.
Would Keats have found beauty
upon the Elysian table tops littered with cigarette butts and coffee cups,
or Homer a short order epic inspired by the
Muse in stained apron
and name tag belonging to Amy . . . ?
And did I find mine
in the presence of those whom
epitomize . . .
the words obnoxious and annoying
appeared quickly scrawled upon
that napkin wiping clean
and blank my slate
[her delightful smile amuses me]
Smoke filled and teeming
with faces familiar
accusations pending and thoughts
demanding to be explored
and exposed before the
midnight inhabitants of a 24hr diner . . .
Larry will provide the security
I determine from the
kitsch encrusted tee-shirt and
novelty hat. Oddly, sitting across
I feel distinctly less than secure . . .
because earlier at their table
an uneventful arrival and departure had
ensued
prompting adulterous sensations
as my pen glides effortlessly
across scattered pieces of notebook
paper bearing the weight of this verse.
For tonight familiarity has bred
not contempt
nor security
but a feeling of joyful anxiety
for days patiently awaiting arrival . . .
