orange

I wrote a new poem last week, got to read it at the open mic in Ocean Beach last night. Possibly I’ll paste a few of those lines here in a minute. My make-up-your-mind mind’s a little skittish this morning. At some point later in the week I added a line above the poem’s title, in the Doc where I keep such writings. The poem’s title is “Here at Annie’s” and the line that found it’s way above the title was this:

“Waves before, waves after. An orange bikini is the Way.”

I get that that line may seem maybe some kind of childish, looking at girls on the beach. And also possibly non-sensicle, and as I wrote in within the spirit of a Zen Koan – which is how it came to me – it surely is childish and non-sensicle and also includes, at least for me, the spirit of “thus-ness.” Beyond that, I completely get it – as a Koan. If you read Monday’s Blog post, maybe you would too.

Anyway, let’s see if I can fetch a few of the lines from “Annie’s” and offer them now:

“The barista’s got Lou Reed 

on the box, 

‘Halloween Parade’, 

which is a laugh here 

at Annie’s. 

Check out these digs, Lou, 

we got your parade covered, 

Bro. 

Joysticks and all. 

That soldier chick, 

in the corner, 

rainbowed up, 

young enough to be 

my little sister 

or any urchin over 

at the local group home, 

she’s holding forth, 

a sergeant or 

some such thing, 

and the regulars have gathered, 

intent on hearing at least one 

of the shimmering truths 

she’s got to tell – 

war made easy, 

peace,

not so much. 

Though I’ve stayed glued 

in my chair, 

not really 

a people guy,

reading my 

“How To Do Alchemy” book, 

seven Nevada scratch tickets 

jammed in my jeans pocket, 

car keys in a wicker bureau 

drawer back at home. 

I thumbed over – 

like always. 

Did I mention there’s posters 

on the walls 

here at Annie’s, 

covering the non-glass walls – 

the Airplane, Buffalo Springfield, 

team photo of the ‘04 Red Sox, 

Dusty Springfield in Memphis. 

A little something 

for everyone, 

why the place 

is a big deal. 

And since I’m spilling 

my own beans 

I’ll tell ya, regards my 

regular attendance,

it ain’t the posters, and 

it ain’t a soldier’s story, 

and, for sure, 

it ain’t wanting to meet 

and influence people. 

I’m not a people guy. 

The coffee’s just decent, 

so it ain’t the coffee. 

But – remember those windows, 

the all the way up and

all the way down? 

That’s the draw. 

That’s the ticket. 

That’s the prize. 

That’s the lure. 

That’s my junk, shit, 

I’d shoot up that 

see-through glass if 

I could figure a way,

score a syringe. 

Why I scored the ‘Alchemy book’ 

from the library. 

When magic’s 

the only show in town.”