Wednesday, June 28, 2017

Strolling Oakland: Piedmont Dead End













26 years old
    1839






Not to appear a lone haunter
of boneyards




On a late Spring day
I wanted a solitude
and a lawn where I could
discretely remove my shirt








In America
it's customary
to wave the flag
from Memorial day
'til the 6th day of July






Normally I whistle past this place












The guardian balloons closed in on me



It was like a sixties
secret agent TV show
from the UK



The balloons seemed to exude
a viscous membrane



I pushed my way inside



I heard a feint chuckle
then what sounded like
an old old woman weeping




Up a flight of stairs
I heard a consort of viols
playing incredibly
melancholy amorphous
baroque music



I pushed my way out again






As I emerged
a table with tablecloth
came rolling toward me





An earthly enigma
like a magic trick
table-knocking
apparition wearing a shroud
A séance in broad daylight






It was with relief
I escaped the precincts
of the Chapel of the chimes





I found myself in a deep
rhododendron grove




A rousing fountain
in front of a faux façade





Not to sound all
Blair Witch Trail
But it was only later
in image capture repose
that I saw the bicyclist


1874- age 68





Not to sound morbid
but it's a location
to which we all are bound



Another enigma




26 was the age I was
when I first moved
to the area
This is an odd expanse
of Mountain View
only two or three headstones
on an otherwise vacant slope
Very early interments
from the imaginary
nineteenth century






Eventually
my complete peace
was shared by a young family
remote and inaudible





June 2017






,

Friday, June 23, 2017

On the Prowl







Hot or cold
I'm snug
under my lamp


My non-redneck neck
of the concrete jungle
Join me in my curiosity shop


Voodoo Ranger







Shrouded in commerce
and construction



White picket fences
hop-scotch and
lemonade stands



Chased by a Voodoo Ranger


 
Can't stop the carrots
carotene helps you see
them coming up
and going down





Clouds doing their job
cooling
 the Port of Oakland









A sweet new Irish spot
on lowest Broadway
photo of Oscar Wilde
that sort of place


Slainte
a bottom's up
blessing from Eire



Look for ward to a visit
someday soon,
join me






A grid-map
to remind me
it's again precisely
that time of year






 Get me off my velvet throne
and out walking





Ye Olde Curiosity Shop
when I pass it by
after twilight descends
I get a sensation
that someone is watching
from within






 Ship window
in an office arcade
social well-being and
public defense





A nice feeling
in the dry garden
sidewalk







Bullshit artists
post styrofoam
dialectics
in serial form



Local critics obliterated
each and every one






 Shout out to Seymour!
We need more
near-sighted cannoneers
like him today






He's still around
making the scene


Such as it is,
An insufferable elitist
next door is attempting
to snuff out the
Opera house







Time to return
to my rocking chair
and my classical radio,
to a jar of brandy
and a big fatty






May-June 2017












Wednesday, June 21, 2017

Click Clack Click-Through















Freight train
to the End of Time





Freight train, freight
moving so fast

























2017













 Here's Captain Beefheart and the Magic Band
performing the original tune "Click Clack":