Lemurs In The Ruins of Alexandria

his soul blindfolded
her body in a cage
drown our sorrows
as did Iscariot
at the haunted cafe
they love to see through
lost in the deserts of persia
where women dance for you
and they serve amnesia.


I thought you liked
your honey spiked
which way to the exit
you just sent a sext it
midnight view over look outs
left my watch in your back seat
waiting for a miracle
as the clock keeps
a beat..

bent over in the garden
we bleed on the roses
afforded a view
and a few thorns too
lemurs wake dreamers
rented room in Alexandria
absinthe makes his bones
shine right through you
too much to fondle
in the flickering light
as it dwindles

we don't have to make it
all the way to cloud nine
pull off the path
won't have to wait
just one place over
and a lot less crowded
on cloud eight.

Unfinished / Obvious / Violence(theme)

Dad are you there?
Yeah, I know
you never answer
but take a look at things
the state of things
would make you think again

the well oiled machine
drifts into stasis
erases the achievement
of those lost in the past
no mountain escapes antiquity
the end of all things
nothing is ever
built to last

when I look in the mirror
half of you looks back in
the split second before
the lights go out and
I look away

could you tell me
when the other bookend
is coming for everyone
I'd trade places with you
but that's beyond on the pale
and you're trapped
in a metal book
instead of floating
on the sea with
a thousand sails

from a father
to a child,
who is knocking at the door,
would you come and see?
the shadowy outline
there at the doorway
is it really me?
let those tears roll
paint memory away
you can make this energy
whatever you need it to be
but its time
to let it all go
like a madness halo
like an angel melting in the snow.
-------

thank you vini for violence*

Spaceman Down

was going to post something on facebook about my family and realized it sounds too sad and would likely only elicit sympathy responses, or worse-more comments from my sister and the rest of the 'family', neither of which I want. It just has not been a good day today. the only daylight I saw was through the window in the bathroom. thinking about food makes me feel like throwing up. Otherwise I spent the day in bed, pulling the covers over my head and wanting the world to go away.

Dealing with my family has become impossible. My mother has now come to the place in her addiction/OCD/Hording that the home she lives in is no longer habitable, nor is the house the business has been in habitable-the house doesn't even have a working kitchen and only one toilet and no shower or bath. The house she lives in has one working toilet and a bathtub-each one in a different bathroom. the house is full of dog poop and urine smell from the dogs she doesn't clean up after, unsanitary levels of bird dust from the 20-30 birds which all still live in the house, which she also doesn't seem to be cleaning up after. Add to that moths which live off the waste bird seed the birds throw out of the cages and on to the floor and what is left of the carpet. The rebuilding from the fire she caused has never been completed so there are holes in the walls, the ceilings and floors in both homes. There are also holes in the walls in every room of the house-not from construction but from rats and mice which have for years come from all over the neighborhood to feed on the birdseed as well. There is construction debris all over the house, the backyard and what is left of the garage. But wait! there is more! Have I neglected to mention she has been shopping pretty much non stop since the mid 1990s? And not things she needs or has ever needed. Two very rare Limited edition Eames' Rosewood bentwood screens(at $7,500 a pop) and a solid walnut stool, also by Eames($900) sit in the dust caked boxes she bought them in 14 years ago having never been used or even enjoyed. Of course its hard to enjoy them when they are surrounded by 47(and counting) large danish floor lamps, 12 full dining table and chair sets, 7 headboards(for beds she doesn't have), hundreds of troll dolls, thousands of christmas ornaments(though she hasn't had a tree in over 16 years), and hundred and hundred of cardboard boxes from orchids she has bought that sadly, mostly die in the boxes they come in because they never actually make it into the greenhouse-one I helped build over a summer as a teen. Not that it would matter as she has not properly cared for it and just about everything that isn't epiphytic is dead. This is how she lives, day in and day out. She spent the insurance money from the fire(she caused)on ebay instead of finishing the repairs. So she took out a loan(at 64) against the house itself to 'finish' the construction. She should have just repaired what was there and left it at that.

But if you read this far you know THAT would be too easy and pragmatic. Instead she decides in the middle of winter to totally expand the house, moving the front out 10 feet and expanding the kitchen by 3 times its current size. Then buying a $5,400 refrigerator when a $500-$800 would have been overkill. As it stands now the house is semi-finished and really, if the truth was told, not safely inhabitable. and she is out of money, even claiming to my sister that she is broke, not paying her bills, not taking care of her animals.

Funny...last week she managed to spend over $1,000 on ebay on what? plants, more furniture and...wait for it...xmas ornaments-even though last week she sent out an email saying she wouldn't be having christmas this year. Which is like Siran Siran saying he won't be visiting his homeland this year. of course she didn't send it to me directly but through my sister.

That would be my sister who has for the last 16 years lived in the THIRD of my mother's homes paying $600 a month for a 4 bedroom house. a house that should rent for $2,400 or more. In fact she was saving so much money she was able to buy a car-but not just any car-a limited edition Pontiac trans-am millenium model, a sports car. Shitty on mileage but horrendous on insurance. Of course because my sister was working for my mom and her partner's business she got ALL that gas paid for-for free! All she had to do was pay the car payment and even got a reduced premium because my mom added her to the company insurance policy. While she was getting paid $24 an hour!! She lived the good life, partied, went to Vegas, went on trips with her friends and got two purebred dogs-pomeranians. I later found out she was also doing the same thing for my brother who drove a cadillac, lived at home and made good money working retail-she even paid his credit card bills

Oh yeah, I should mention that during this time I was living in my car or sharing a flat with 5 other people, eating Ramen noodles and ricecakes and making $8 an hour-barely getting by. When I asked my mom that christmas if she could take me grocery shopping(I was literally starving, eating at Glide memorial,etc) her reply was "Well, things have been tight with the business, could it wait until after the holidays?"

That year the company posted revenue of over 2 million dollars.

she kindly offered to fill up my gas tank-not out of her pocket but from the business' account. I accepted but later regretted it as she never forgot to remind me of that fact for years and years. So I got $22 worth of gas and my brother and sister got thousands and thousands of dollars of free gas, insurance, food and free AAA coverage, costco cards, VIP tickets to see Phantom, you name it.

Oh, I would have gotten a costco membership too-Susan even gave me the card with my name on it-like everyone in the family got. However, when I went to use it I was told the card was no longer valid-at the register with a cart full of stuff.

Me: the account is closed?
Agent: No, it says here its still open.
Me: then why doesn't my card work?
Agent: Well, only your card was canceled.

I didn't understand so the nice agent turned her monitor to face me and there it was "Account holder J Davis called to terminate card: Steve Davis from account". So she didn't forget, and it wasn't a clerical error-she did it on purpose. Why?

Why? yeah, why. Here is why...because years ago I recognized what was happening with her OCD when it was just in the early stages. Everybody knew something was wrong but they were all benefitting from her so everyone told me to mind my own business- mom was "fine" and I was the homosexual weirdo who had no right to tell other people how to live their lives. When I turned 30 I finally broke down and tearfully told her how concerned I was about her, her life and weather she was happy or not-because to all concerned she clearly wasn't happy. That I loved her. Her response will stay with me until the day I die.

"fuck you and the horse you rode in on. Its my life, my money and my business. I am perfectly happy. mind you own fucking business and stay out of mine."

Sigh....

Now here we all are roughly a little over a decade later. My mother is almost broke, the houses are in shambles(including the one my sister lives in)and her physical health is fading. She claims as many hoarders do that "the stuff' she owns prevents her from doing anything about 'the stuff' in her life. My brother lives out of state in Texas("as far as I could get away from this family")and clearly wants nothing to do with Susan or I and thinks we should leave mom to her own devices. And where is her partner of 30+ years during all this? Like all dysfunctional people he kept enabling her until he too realized what was happening and started drinking to numb the pain of having to deal with her, her constant nagging and belittlment-and her rage. Now he, after 50 years of smoking and 4 heart attacks he can barely manage being alive and Susan-who thinks of him as her dad-thinks he will die soon because he has resumed drinking. now the fun part! my sister want me to 'fix this'. situation.

My sister has made herself out to be the martyr but she is far too immature and emotionally volatile to handle the situation appropriately. She sends email after email attacking me for not doing enough NOW, YEARS after I was the only one who said she needed help-even going as far as trying to get the family to hold an intervention at the time. Now I get attacked for trying to reason with Susan. Her emails have wonderful supportive statements like "You need to get up off your ass and start acting like you care about mom-I can't take care of her all by myself!!"

and at the same time stabs both Stuart and I in the back in emails to Mom that include things like "2 weeks ago i reached out to my brothers...YOUR SONS n was flatly denied when i asked if they can help u. When u are ready to stop trying to control everything n accept help let me know."

So she's passive aggressive, hostile, angry and immature. Wouldn't YOU take help from her? yeesh! But I have to help "fix it" even though I tried and tried for years otherwise I am "just like stuart". My FAVORITE person in the whole world to be compared to-excuse me while I light my face on fire! As if! If anyone could be said to have done LESS than Stuart I haven't met them.

And its the holidays. Yay! right? well, I'd like to be all sunny and ice cream but right now its just darn near impossible. Getting out of bed to change the cat box is about as much energy as I had all day today. The apartment is FILLED with storage boxes of various fullness. every surface has glass nic nacs on it-my beautiful birchwood shelves sit cluttered with packing supplies and more of Mark's crap as does my standing bookshelves. Even though there is room for more books I now have to store stuff in my room because I can't actually GET to the empty spaces on it. The kitchen is a mess and almost too disgusting to cook in-making a meal there means I have to scrub everything before I can even start to cook-I even keep my pots and pans in my room because I got tired of reaching for them and having my hand come back covered in greasy dust. I can't get the mildew smell out of the bathroom-what the fuck is it about chinese families and carpeting bathrooms?! I'm a very clean person-a neatnik-so I spend almost all my time at home in my bedroom-with the door closed. I am broke because work has sucked this year more than any other and I just can't seem to find a full time job. What jobs are out there I am either not qualified for or over qualified for and with everyone else out of work...its not been great. i could really use a break from it all, really.

And yet, behind me sitting asleep on the bed are two cats-one of whom almost died this year because I was too broke to take him to the vet-who love me no matter how fucked up my family and my life is. And then there is Bob, who I wouldn't have made these last several months without. and Friends-I have some really great ones. So much to be thankful for-I just wish there wasn't so much rain right now.
-------------
Oh, and I just pulled a flea off tweed. Great! now I fleas to deal with too!

Animals / December Sun (history)

the pig smiles
behind me
been sitting on the chair
all day
while I slept
dreaming of you

---------------------

that's not the fashion
these days
you put a patch on
the path from
here to there
from here to eternity
black and white movies
double indemnity
multiple identity
one person in the past
someone else tomorrow
and yet another year after
year will always produce
another one its no use
introduce you to each one
sax and violins
fill in the spaces where
clocks tick
but turn their faces
towards history

I repeated a section of this earlier in "trap" from a few days ago. I just liked the cadence and it felt right to use it here again.

not saying goodbye

when we said goodbye
all the potions became drank
empty bottles
wobbled and
fell down
cast my gaze
back to years ago
the milltown express
crashed through the
gates of disention,
my childhood depression
not letting on
half-hedged bets.
this is my life
not saying goodbye
too much wine left to drink
and the rum
and the vodka
one more glass and
I love ya madly
let it dry on the sink
the picture of your mother
she is dead
on the wall in the background
so who cares what she thinks?
(*unfinished)
==================
A true artist will never stop

"Hedonist"

When I am 59 years old I want to be able to look back at my life and say I did more than simply get myself laid and sell stuff. God am I glad mark and I broke up-his life seems so meaningless, boring and repetitive. Its no wonder I was just bored to tears with the non-life we were not having. What a dull, dull life he seems to have-and lucky...because if he didn't have friends that needed(sort of) work he sure wouldn't have gotten through this past year's economy without them. Of course that can't last forever-winter is coming and his house of cards is about to get soaked to the bone. Hopefully I am not here in this apartment when that happens.

Me: Who was that?
Mark: just some guy...

talk about a metaphor for his entire life..."Just some guy". Yawn!

This Is The Modern World!!!

There are stacks and stacks of McSweeney's behind me-taunting me with wonderous riches. The computers are relocated and I just have to sit down with the PC laptop and see if this is just one of those "viruses" that require you to purchase software-the equivilent of extortion-in order to fix a hard drive that I don't think was broken and FAR from full. Some thing is fishy but I want that thing OFF the network until I figure out what hell happened=and get it fixed hopefully. Fingers Crossed!!!

re/mem/ber

left your mother's
apron in the rain
cut the rhododendron
in the wrong place again
further than than she would have
would you ever find a way to leave this place
on the back of a book
on the back of shadows
know a lot of people
but after a while you
get tired of draining
the pool.

spark; resistance
timber and the persistence
of fools telemetry
swim and swim
will you ever go the distance?
constantly wondering
will there ever be a way back?
or will we end up blind,
mumbling and delivering
gibberish in exile
like jack kerouac?

the rain hits the roof
here like the arrows
of arithematic breaking
on the coast full of lingering shipwrecks
their hidden coins tarnished
like riches kept for ages
when slow light
moves away
from history's
pages.

(First Mac Posting! Thanks AJ!)

Callas Interpolation (grief for invisible sound)

hiss, crackles
rattles out of the
radiophoric stereo hero
trying to find the angle
removing the incorrect
jangles; a perfect mix
this drug I'll never kick
a magic trick
dance of deliverance
solace, tolerance.
wake to noise
silently lean into
the cracks in sound,
the bright sparkles
and loose flying particles
create a new myth
differentiated truth
never up to us
just sand through clear glass
bitterly stained
and invisibly toxic
bit rates, spin and vanish
infused metal
coated with varnish
memories never tarnish
but oxide breaths
breathe disease in between
tracks-warmer now in the autumn
leaning into trees,
jealous leaves not meant
to strike color
to strike a chord
disharmoniously in the cutting floor films
winds, divided, died in the wool
crushed in the hand
destroy the heart she said
drive the pain away
into the lonliness
of a single
dying sound.
the last breath
before a great voice
is silenced.
(and
when
her
body
is
dead
her
song's
spirit
will
rise
up
and
out
of
her
mouth
like
a
great
hunter
and
escape
in
to
the
winds
to
fill
the
lungs
and
fuel
the
breaths
of
every
singer
everywhere
ever)

Spiders Are Free

from family drama
from anxiety
from money
from pain

Misunderstood
Feared
Under appeciated
Slandered

And maybe like me they just want to be appreciated for trying to add beauty to the world instead of tearing it a new hole in selfishness.

see you girls next summer*

Butterflies in August

dancing alone
in an empty room
animals in cages
just endless pacing
the beast is tame
dreams of Canada,
butterflies in august
drowning in the
falling rain.

Trap

part visionary
part fool
particularly spectacular liar
partially dashing and ravishing
part way to the
party and half way
like the path
way leading to
the king of cool.

Doctor Miscommunication

who would've thought
wrong
all the tests come back negative
all the tests come back
to haunt you
singing like angels
of death in your non-sleep
the broken lines
and the broken home
break up the ending
of the difficult song
whatever they say
you have to do
whatever missed communication
they hesitate,
we wait
locked in a room
somewhere
waving my hands
like a crazy person
in the air

they find your nick name
on his neck chain
correct change
when all the
gambling came
to an expensive end

some time to kill
some sleeping pills
valium, downers,
drugs for out of towners
roll out of one
bed into another
the dogs bark
the corked suburban still life
fruit on the table
bills paid when you feel able
would you even notice
if you were alone
when it became dark
was it any fun
when the harpies and
the witches
came and
stole your tongue?

Hot In The City, Tonight

Its so hot today for a winter day in November-because 80 fucking degrees is ridiculous this time of year. Global Warming? That's just gobbledegook cooked up by those brainwashed wacko liberals, right?

All I know is that there are places in the world where the median temperature has gone up more than 1.5 degrees in the last 20 years, generally a phenomenon that takes HUNDREDS of years. So who is responsible is really a moot point now-we ARE running out of oil. The global temp IS going up. Tidal waves, subsea earthquakes and tsunamis ARE becoming more frequent and most importantly-they're getting stronger. If SF were to have a quake similar to the scope and size of the one in Chili, we'd be FUCKED. SOMA, The Marina and other parts of the city would liquify instantly or be underwater altogether. At least where I am now is on bedrock so its going to shake like crazy and break stuff but won't be swallowed by the earth at least.

Down Libraries

Late November's light
set against a sunshine scrim.
how many years
has it been?
Your heart
stared at Medusa's face,
(her snakes
are paper thin.)
your literate desires
burn down libraries
in the storm of words
you exchange in sleep.
the machine starts up again
when we reach the sea
would have liked
more than one
who recognized
we're on empty,
the lone arm
waving a white flag
in the driving snow.
done with Civil wars
disheveled lives and loves
mistrusted trysts
and added risks,
funeral plans
typewritten sans
parenthesis stands
wrapped around
future plans
it all blows away
they turn blue
and hollow faces
replaces aces
in a once winning hand.

Regards To The Stars (unedited)

you count your blessings
you want a life
you can't afford
time to wash your face
its been days
blame it on the bottle
this town will pickle you
you'd do well
untell the story
soon its over
at the beginning
when the gulls flew
and the fallen women
helped storm clouds
gather here
jellyfish drift like
smoke and haze
in the broken
glass reflections.
neon in the background,
hounds of hell tattoos
tells of a lie that's honest
born angry, just the open wound
bared the bile of the soul
while we lie to ourselves,
the canvas is big
the view point is wide
when the past and future meet
at the beginning and the end of time,
there is a hand
reaching out from a door
the hallway is dark
the room is full of light
at the edge of forever
everything is brilliant
and shining
and white.

Frozen Waves (far across the sea you're hiding)

Do you remember
the boy I used to be?
standing by the birch trees
a white hot sky
and birds singing,
name calling,
calling your name,
calling you out
on your shame.
what you're hiding
inside describing
someone who feels
like dying.
magicians manifest
the act of deceit,
conceit repeated
for all to see,
the magic of waves,
the magic of sound,
the magic blades
shoot into comets
locked in the tree
darkened shades,
fade and wander
shrouded by frequencies
vibrating cerulean darkness
summons deep
ice blue catacombs,
iridescent blue,
cataloged
and waterlogged
by ancient waters
that ran true.
the rabbit breathes
again, the handkerchief
changes colors,
flies through space
and distant stars die,
collide and change their colors.
minute particles
slip away into the
past light, previous
starways pass the harbor
strays, dancing ghosts
and placid hosts,
north star, guiding light
blue heavens;
where the
gods toast.

crystal days (clear)

trace his path
across the face
of a painting
of a stage
please...
lights go by
black and white
images filled
with post-war
misery,
please...

Other days
promises made to
children explode
and gazing out my window
another dawn shatters
like crystals
in a geode
like jewels
that make women
scream
please,
come back,
baby..

(and FUCK Meg Whitman....no, really.)

For All The Cunts in Marin County

Demons
offer conjecture
suburban wives
offer lecture
but lecture yourself
you rot the
shelf
your canned goods
sit on.
log on,
dot com
stay at home mom
careless
care less
care less about
everything
that stands for
something
that stands for you.
you bleed
claiming agony
but servant
in your matron's tower
reduced to ashes
lacking feminine power
but still usurped
perturbed, you claim
demons came to take
the perfect undisturbed
uninsured, inured.
scandal perpetuated
by whoring jackals
and their offspring
cloven hooved and rooted
in evil
like thresher sharks
tearing at flesh
gone mad with the
killing frenzy
of chaos.

and yeah, fuck you, you stupid lazy SOW of a pathetic excuse for a mother. Fuck your victim mentality. play the lamb, then cry loudest at the least worthwhile time. I am SO fucking SICK of women who use their children as shields against having to deal with the world. FOR GODSAKKES WHATABOUT THE CHILDREN?!? My mother taught me to keep what little money I had in my wallet. and never leave my wallet out where someone could see it. Backpacks? Pe-shaw! If you are too fucking stupid to tell your kids to keep their cash in a wallet(or their pocket)at the very least-then either YOU are sorely lacking in common sense or your kids are fucking retards, but since they were raised by YOU, what's the excuse? You can't take care of 3 kids at once? Wait! I forgot this is Marin where kids float on clouds, do whatever they want and are uber protected by dimwit mothers who stand by and do NOTHING, SAY Nothing and then...I'm the thief? Fuck you, you bitch! You claim we stole from you-when we're not there to defend ourselves, how nice!-when you know damn well we have nothing that belongs to you?

Guess what...next time I see you I am going to give you a piece my mind-a big one- so you NEVER forget what happens when you STUPIDLY expect the world to protect your kids from real life-and try and badmouth me on top of it.

Morning Escape (blue dawn)

Old time money
is fading
books unbound
flip, whipping
around in the air
impaired
my hollow atmospheric
stare at the rockets
red glare
stitches in woolen
arcades unraveling
in the cold
evening twilight
words reabsorbed
in to the very first page
these words, invisible
thimblefuls.

the first page
is blank like the second
and the record begins
with nothing
but crackles
and mysterious hissing
grooves long and thin
with delights
trapped within
and long winding high
ceiling cathedrals filled
with inept spirits
who long for a host
a steeple filled
with people
and spectral shipwrecked arms
gather flowers
overhead.