You seem to have your head screwed on about that, about what is and what is not your crazy. Well fuck you for even saying so, he’s crazy. I hate to admit it but I knew I was next in line for your crazy. She thinks he thinks she’s crazy. Well damn you for even thinking I’m crazy. Sometimes there’s very little between your basic crazy. And the crazy of the next guy. It’s unpredictable. But you seem to have a really good handle on what is and what is not so far crazy. That’s crazy sexy crazy scary crazy crazy. That song that line that dude is crazy. Who’s gonna get crazy? I hate to tell you but it was inevitable that things were gonna “get crazy.” Imagine if they hadn’t locked her up when she went crazy. That’d be crazy.






A lawn chair remains.
The spider tents are outlined with dew.

Mist falls away from the house.
Squawking drifts up from the rocks.

Grilling lobsters is bullshit.
We should have steamed.

Reflect on repelling the sun.
Melatonin is responsible.

A camera in a canoe is a bad idea.
Albeit a natural one.

One paddle is longer.
Predictable as hunger.

“Are you having fun?”
“Well, I’m not utterly panicked.”

The tide is up between ten and four.
A necessary table.

Rabbit. Two deer. A chipmunk.
Some cranes. Lots of gulls.

Wondering about terns?
Dial-up ever so tempting.

Too bad good health isn’t instant.
A slight breeze out of the south.

When the avant-garde expresses a party line, it is no longer the avant-garde.
Nobody is marching.

Orthodoxy is bestial.
False smiles are bestial.

“Whatever is the opposite of ‘utterly panicked,’ that’s what I am.”
“But it’s not fun.”

People are animals.
Who sometimes forget to shave.

Naps between meals equals inattention.
Recipes (of any kind) are mostly useless, as are maps.

Karma is intricately connected to a can of gas.
Don’t forget the matches!

The high tight buzz is puzzling.
Must be some kind of insect.

Texas, of all places.

What I like about reading poetry is that it quiets all other mind-business.
Like f-u-ch-s-i-a f-u-ch-s-i-a f-u-ch-s-i-a.

If you see me looking thoughtful, I am probably experiencing a “worry loop.”
Worry loops are repetitive imaginings of things that might go wrong, or
      have already gone wrong.

The tension between two lines of a couplet is flexible.
Snap it.


“Yeah, ‘relaxed’?