befalls you
each morning
when you
come to

slap your face
drink your dreary coffee

eat twice as much

still you lack
cut yourself
no slack

assembly line of life
wants you back

don’t go


give yourself a


a lavender mud mask

write a book

count all your pennies

shout Foucault to the rooftops


leave us your history

of madness




the third was full of frisbees and soaring like a bird. oils were dripping and smoke was rising, the links were hot as hell. when they discovered water in the park bubbling up from a pipe, the kids made ample use of it. everyone and everything within a hundred yards got wet, except the birds. soon it would be labor day and no one wanted to work but i was ready. i felt i could handle just about anything. the full moon was coming. so long as you got out there and under it, illumination was certain.