Poetic Pantograph Side A

Yarmouth

We ate reality sandwiches in Yarmouth last night,
Wizened mushrooms between slices
Of Pepperidge Farm raisin bread,
Washed down with Perrier.

All night long,
Somewhere ran the edge,
Somewhere the escalator rising,
Somewhere the slow steady rumble of the vicinity.

But no turn of the circuit took us there.
It came and went,
Leaving only this...
This taste of aftermath and anticipation.

They didn't work.
They must have sat there too long,
There in the bottom drawer,
With the used computer printouts.

rri (Jul '04)


Marvel Karmix

On or about September 9, 1974, I, We, Some, All of US, were caught. We latched on and couldn't let go, Sluiced into the Marvel Karmix flux That ripples, HERE.... (no, there....) Along the precipital outer edge Of five thousand...

rri (Jul '04)

Midnight: Point Reyes

Rock and roll. And we're off.... Now S.'s not talking about light on rafters any more. Light on rafters, didn't you see it? Wow, listen to that. This is a good time to have it on, 'cause as we walk...

rri (Jul '04)

Pismo Beach

We drove on to the beach at Pismo. The cop went one way, So we went the other. Drove in the water. Drove in the sand. The travelers ran up the sand dunes Bordering the beach And slid down the...

rri (Jul '04)

See Photographs - My Change

Comrades, I must warn you. I'm encouraging an attitude change inside me. I can't allow myself to be as negative as I have been. It ate me hard. And as matter of survival, I'm praying for the optimistic. You'll...

rri (Jul '04)

Short Subject

They ought to make a movie out of my life. Well, maybe a comic strip. You laugh. And what the hell do you have to laugh about?...

rri (Jul '04)

Little Red Book

I still have D.'s little red book: "Study Chairman Mao's writings, follow his teachings, and act according to his instructions." A first edition of the Foreign Language Press, 1966, an echo of Berkeley in turn echoing the Cultural Revolution,...

rri (Jul '04)

The Hummers

Throw the switch onward into the early hours of the morning --the main current, the real juice, the quintessence of the matter. Let everything flow to pieces and we'll still find the cardplayers sitting hunched in the music room, hunched...

rri (Jul '04)

Home

no drugs no drugs no drugs we found a bud one stinking little precious little bud sitting on the kitchen shelf next to canned co-op sweet peas and golden pancake syrup I love big brother I love corporate America...

rri (Jul '04)

Semi-Fascist Garb

cold streetlights blue night streetscene knifesmy heart black leather pack rats slap my face blood in the gutter blood in the gutter concretenerve pain rushes my brain hurts to scream a fraction of a gram cant take it no more...

rri (Jun '04)

I hate this street

I hate this street, University. There's always lots of whores walking here. The few, the proud, the Marines. The poor, the oppressed, the Marines. Sempre Fie, I'm getting high. That is, if you live through bootcamp. Bootcamp is the best...

rri (Jun '04)

Work: I'm here for the duration.

I live in Pacifica, a suburb of San Francisco. My residence is inside an apartment complex that was built to be purposely not humble. Its guts house the soon-to-be oppressor classes of the soon-to-become proletarian society. I don't really care...

rri (Jun '04)

Serge, 1979

A Harvard business grad, I didn't go out on the street for nothing. I was up against murdersuicideinputoutputinterface. Price lists have not been included with this literature because the dealer we have recommended should help you get the right machine...

rri (Jun '04)

If I Saw I Might Be Afraid

did you see the shadow from that guy's pipe it was great it looked like he had a huge mustache 'cause the shadow from the pipe was about down to there it looked like he had a huge mustache on...

rri (Jun '04)

High Noon

The Hateman struts Ludwig's Fountain In a wraparound India print skirt, Screaming to all and sundry, Your mother's a Macarthur Street whore, But she does so badly she's on welfare. Your father's rotting in his grave, And it was you...

rri (Jun '04)

The Lag

If you want to be creative, You have to throw away all of your past ideas Of, about, what's right and wrong-- Or most of them. So if...like the lag.... You've got to throw away the lag. And so you...

rri (Jun '04)

Shadow of the Rainbow

I've never remembered anything. The past merely lapses Suddenly, broken off mid-sentence, Waiting for the word, The glance, the presence, The suddenly supplied object Of an aborted verb. Dangling there like that, What's there to forget, Let alone to...

rri (Jun '04)

Walking over California

There's no reason to be scared, 'Cause we know the light's there. Yeah, we can get back. There's no problem, 'Cause we can always see that light....

rri (Jun '04)

Tower of Truth

The terrors of the white page are manifest As its illusory flat white face collapses inward, Regressing toward unconditioned freedom. The freedom, not of language and grammar, but of its violation, The knowing violation of not knowing what it means,...

rri (Jun '04)

poetry/?

is poetry for when logic isn't on duty? but there are so ma y may the month is happy happy may mayyy many ways in which logic can be not working: it can be out of order it can be...

rri (May '04)

Start Again

On the opposite side, You see L. and I at Point Reyes. The things that occurred on that day Should perhaps not be written down. I will talk to you soon though, With the summer coming up. And we can...

rri (May '04)

Exile One

Delight laughs with things amazing, Giggles at things giggling and gurgling. It is a knife of things smooth and cold. The silver in mountain lakes framed by granite cliffs, The white fleecy golden-haired girls running, The ankle-deep grass of the...

rri (May '04)

Exile Two

I'm not actually sure if I believe the above, But when I wrote it, it entertained me. It was crazy. It was looney. It was wacky. And radical. I'm sure if I get laid soon, I'll definitely have second thoughts...

rri (May '04)