texting “lawrence ferlinghetti” to a friend
the phone spellcheck took over
that’s how you know you made it

if you can't play your set drunk
you can't play rock'n'roll
no judgment
straight fact
take it from a guy
who rehearsed down the hall
from the ramones

"watch out, slow down, what the ****"
that’s my reaction to some truly appalling driving
from my compadre the duke
this would be years ago
he turned to me, smiled and said
“the difference between you and me
is you’re afraid to die"
"no," i said, "the difference between you and me
is i don’t WANT to die"
now i’m an old coot
and the duke never made it to 30
i called that one
but he was a star

as hard-hearted "pragmatism"
becomes the norm--
and it has--
our congenial presuppositions
about how we want to live
are taking a beating
but on his way to mars
elon musk clarified the moment:
"the fundamental weakness
of western civilization
is empathy"
ok, there it is
no more mr. nice guy
**** everybody

i bought a plunger and a bottle opener
it’s all an intellectual needs

McDonald's crispy strips
Chipotle's triple-wrap burrito
Sonic's half-price shake after 5 pm
Gucci lotion
Verizon cell phones
Carona beer
trying to guess the TV station
by the demographic nature
of the commercials

all you need is $$$$$
it’s the illusion that dissolves
all the other illusions
but it’s reality, you say?
strangely it’s both simultaneously
like the fantasy that donald trump
will solve people’s problems
which has led us to the world
we now live in

so you wonder if dumb luck is going to save you
son, it’s the only thing that will

i could brag about my night
but to who?
what sentient being is epicurean enough
to appreciate my palate?
cosmopolitan enough
to follow my exploration?
who has mastered the physics
to dig my trajectory?
there’s only one
back to the mirror!

as all consciousness
is filtered and corrupted
through online interaction
my poems taped to lamp posts
in the real world
may come to be seen
as humanity's redemption

thank god everyone's texting
looking down every spare
and not-so-spare moment
thank god for the distraction
now illiterate people have something to do

used to be that whenever i saw the proletariat
staring into space at a bus stop
while i was reading a book
i worried about them obsessing on vengeance
daydreaming about our destruction
rising up against us intellectuals

now they can forget about me
and the bus they’re waiting for

i just picked up the monkey wrench gang
a bible for eco-terrorists
an influential text
when i was young i read henry miller
and soon began ******* my brains out
read carlos castenada and added psychedelics to my mix
read bukowski and my upward mobility turned south
now i’m not young
so the monkey wrench gang
probably won’t have me blowing up bridges
which is fortunate
mein kampf is next on the syllabus

is it really such a radical idea
that people shouldn’t push other people around
and pillage all their resources?

seems to me that the idea of a king and queen
is the wacky concept

last day of work at mercy hospital
leaving is always fun
it’s the end of the beginning
i won the strong man contest
that nurse couldn’t even lift one “e” tank
i’ve hauled 13,000
after so many deliveries
of so many oxygen canisters
today each one is the last
i’ll never see the seventh floor again
job well done
boss shakes my hand
says come back as a therapist any time
floating like a ghost through these halls one more time
push something and people look right through you
you’re invisible
except to other people pushing
carts of laundry, garbage, lunch
it’s zen, it’s the dating game
it’s martial arts
tai chi, but instead of kicking ***
i’m pumping cylinders, healing the sick
and even though i said so long to so many
i did this so alone
last look

some people have too much money
it defines them
totally
anything else about them
is irrelevant

my wife’s on the wagon
so i said i wouldn’t drink at home
only in a bar
then the bars closed from the virus
conspiracy!

these classical musicians are needy *******
applause when stepping on stage
ovation when finishing a tune
they have expectations
and they get what they want
you know, it might be appropriate
for ME to get a standing ovation
after i keep a patient breathing
when she’s going down the tubes
of course, that’s asking a lot
since the patient can’t stand up
but it would be cool to hear applause
every time i step into a hospital room

don’t complain about her complaining
that opens up a hall of mirrors
and echo chamber
of complaints infinitum

today i’m a respiratory therapist
treating covid patients in a city hospital
the denial of science in this country
is having glaring consequences
the punks that we were at age 20
wouldn’t have been surprised
at the militant ignorance
of some of our fellow citizenry
the difference is that back then
we would have laughed

my fellow respiratory therapists hate everybody
nobody gets away
we have a new fella
good looking, young, sculpted, groomed
a nice guy and decent therapist
"oh, the model" says brenda with idle contempt
it’s a beautiful thing

my wife can be very disruptive
if she disagrees
and if she feels threatened
she goes for the jugular

the hospital whiteboard
for the 21-year-old patient
has some sunny goals
"spend time with family"
"happy 4th of July"
upbeat aspirations
for a kid heading to the OR
to get sliced and diced
for ***** donation

i’ve come to see
people who are a pain in the ***
keep you on your toes

why is it necessary to hate walter’s BBQ?
because the customers are young
comfortable and smiling
(reason enough, but not just that)
they’re all white in a largely black city
a white clientele for a BBQ place
a pricey BBQ place
a couple of black women come in
they take turns taking photos of each other
and leave without ordering
that’s why

got lost on the way out of bed
took a wrong turn at the pillow

Rami Malek is radioactively brilliant
as the most alienated soul on earth
in the mindblowing first season--
nostalgia for Occupy Wall Street
when the evil overlords
were under the radar
not flying AirForce One--
and hackers were omnipotent rock stars

dreamt about a hermaphrodite
maybe you can teach new tricks
to an old stag

resnick!
for years we worked together in the hospital
i knew him as a villainous old coot
but a stud in his youth
and a rake all the way through
smoking relentlessly in the oxygen tank room
which didn’t blow up, but just coughed
cascading merry cynicism with wicked timing
"for chrissakes," he’d say, seeing me carting equipment
"i took less than that with me to vietnam"
tom told me a ***** joke about rodeo ***
that i repeated on a book tour
(since i’m the ***** poet)
and which turned the audience so hostile
my poems may as well have been covid
tom came on to all women:  staff, patients, family
"hey little girl, you want some candy?"
so over-the-top creepy that it was acceptable
if you squinted
he was triggered especially by denise
a young nurse:  blonde, petite, shy
when she walked by, his admiration calmed him down

now tom’s gone to that great ashtray in the sky
and when i see denise in the halls
i smile and savor tom’s unshackled lust
his peculiar resnick love

there is no “music”
the word is a vague endearment
applied on a whim
“music” is an adjective

i had it wrong
about those MAGA enthusiasts
they were here all along
hunting buffalo and living in teepees
their ancestors didn't come to this land
looking for a better life
BUT
if they had been immigrants
great-great granny and gramps
were ****** murderous ****
who should've been rounded up
and herded into south american torture prisons

on tuesday in the hospital
i made a student cry
she wouldn’t shut up about a no-win situation
we talked half an hour as i charted
she got more and worked up
"we should DO something" about a patient
when there was nothing left to do
"we are done talking about this," i said at last
"if you work in a hospital
you won’t see ten people like this
you’ll see hundreds
and their families
if you really want to help these people
you can’t be so emotional"
words that jumpstarted the tears
i felt unsettled about that
but she put me in that position

on friday i was at a gallery opening
the artist handed me a vape pen of ***
"what’s that?" i asked
and my cool factor shrank to zero

finally a warm spring day
i break out my sandals
a couple of years old but still in prime shape
i put them on, drive to the show
exit my car, step onto the sidewalk
and sink up to my ankles in fresh cement
a tiny warning flag on the edge of the walk
this is how the world works

i lived with laurie anderson’s keyboard player
back when you heard of laurie anderson
i think the woman’s name was lucky
just roommates, no romance
we shared a loft in times square
that year in new york we were all musicians
but lucky was a star in her own right
"at my level, you don’t have to audition," she said
"oh yeah?" i said
"at my level i don’t give a ****"
we weren’t the hanging-out kind of roommies

got my tent in the back of the car
driving to my campsite
out of the city, into the country
and though the election is long gone
it’s TRUMP billboards, lawn signs
TRUMP splashed on the sides of barns
with the occasional **** BIDEN
thrown in as punctuation
these folks must be so happy
they won
america’s great again
then i see a billboard about guns
STORE IT SAFE
PREVENT SUICIDE
but i thought their dreams came true