This Year's Winter Gala

The sun poured down like money
My hair got all devilish
Collecting coins
Fate got up way too early
And wrote these filthy notes on our window
Which we had to decrypt
With no help from any azimuth of cold.

And, ice-on-river, you've bedded down
All knowledge and sense;
Don't lie. I hear you chuckling
Behind me all day long.

Skinny junkie trees
Share a few mordant jokes
About all that dead mulch.
Cigars glowing.
The dirt making impotent
Threats under its breath.

---

On the Light Side

On the light side they have a mansion
they collect ostrich tongues,
sentimental texts, arguments
and stored yellow documents.

They a have special routine
for the 4th of July
involving sticks, saws, string, candles, boats
permeable goat-skin lanterns,

Plus the parade, the mescaline attack,
all prelude to the rattly upright
in the attic of the white town hall,
going off, in neo-classic fog,

Some uknown playing a pretty good
Schubert (Impromptus) with the sound
defenstrating into the willows
so that you may collapse at around 3:30

In the afternoon while -- pie, a nap --
while the light continues to
make cleated marks upon
the baked goods, over the good will.

O, and finally the cows on stilts are led out,
in turn leading a brass band
into the scrub oak and pine wood
to the site of the gallows stand event

Won this year by the clerk whose wages
are being garnisheed, his trumpet impressed
into service. Though everywhere else
icebergs recede at a vapid clip.

     I am a software exec. and I do secret internet foo. I live near Boston, Massachusetts and spend a lot of time in San Francisco.
     I began writing poetry a few years ago in a brave but ultimately feckless attempt to stave off a canonical entrapment breakdown.
     I sometimes write with a pseudonym: Yorick_Nixon. I also write music and play musical instruments. I was a member of Boston noise band Inner Beauty and San Francisco improv combo Senator Buchanon. With the members of Inner Beauty I co-authored a pre-web internet published dystopic novel entitled "Skunk Angst".
     Any spare time I have I read Shakespeare or listen to Bach. Bach seems to be the one thing all nerds agree on. I've lost touch with my culture. Though my friend Janet has turned me onto Cat Power. My only firmly held cultural belief is that Chan Marshall of Cat Power is kind of a babe.