a not-necessarily improved tweak of the previous thing

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Perhaps I disappoint you
when I admit a storm growls
in my most private pit of my stomach.
Well it does – the storm I mean –
stirring a storm. After those months
of classroom safety, well, here I am,
first call, and can’t help wonder
about the real existence

of tangible evidence when we
enter into that place. Shall I look
without one wince or flinch if
I must place my gaze on one
who has committed a trespass
oh so utterly foul? Please pray I not choke
in that time. True, in our training
we trained as though we did not train

but did handle true blue items
of incrimination strung to acts
that the ordinary citizenry,
those we know as the good people,
should never be forced to know of
in detail – yet now to see this is all
very real and there may be
actual substances these hands shall touch

and to imagine it possible
these nostrils may suffer so,
well, I guess I hope the report
turns out to be an innocent mistake
on behalf of the informant,
especially one alerting us
from anonymity. Yet I know
I cannot escape experiences.”

So a lieutenant who more or less
babbled inquired of the major
at the wheel and who had served in
Salvation Squad long enough to forget
what it was like to be a sapling
and green as April or May
on a neighborhood beat keeping all ears

and eyes open for signs of a fool
committing an immoral deed.
For this babbling newbie
Salvation Squad lieutenant
wasn’t just any babbling newbie
Salvation Squad lieutenant.
This particular Salvation Squad
lieutenant was a sprout freshly

pushed fluffy but not too fluffy
because to be too fluffy was a sign
one entertained the darkest
of all emblems and levels
agreed across the board as born
from the oldest agents of darkness
– anyway, this fresh and safely
fluffy lieutenant of late
a graduate from the mightiest

academy – its might no
coincidence for its motors
were minds of men who seldom
laughed or even let themselves chuckle;
meaning they meant serious
business though not so much
business as in selling products
and hoping to bring customers
an innocent moment of happiness;

no, this academy’s stout foundation
and stalwart walls rose in stony
erections for the sake of training up
a moral core on the order
of an army numbered with ranks
made numb to echelon analysis;
able and eager to squelch flesh
philosophies that long ago

corrupted golden traditions,
but at last (or alas for they
who assumed they could continue
to do as their ancestors did)
the mystical pendulum swung
from that which for so long was to that
which for a dark and humor-free age
had to be. All pleasures had to come
under microscopic scrutiny.

Forming bureaucratic agencies
numerous enough to fill a fat
metropolitan telephone book
was the ultimate dream solution,
but such a formation magnitude
was beholden to pragmatism
that said they may as well settle in
for a slow stroll across Nebraska.

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opening section of another story-poem that will never come to completion

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Will we discover evidence
when we enter into that place?
So inquired the lieutenant
fresh out of the academy
built for training a moral core
able and eager to squelch flesh
philosophies that long ago
corrupted golden traditions,
but at last (or alas for they
who assumed they could continue
to do as their ancestors did)
the mystical pendulum swung

from that which for so long was to that
which for a dark and humor-free age
had to be. All pleasures had to come
under microscopic scrutiny.
Forming bureaucratic agencies
numerous enough to fill a fat
metropolitan telephone book
was the ultimate dream solution,
but such a formation magnitude
was beholden to pragmatism
that said they may as well settle in
for a slow stroll across Nebraska.

I trust we all agree general drollery
ought to occupy our upper priorities
as forward we march to restore true decency,
spoke an architectural patriarch back then
(in rhetoric this voice had gifts in abundance,
rising as a beacon stout enough to withstand
as many lashes and blasts as a hurricane
foe boasting a dizzying array of techno
weaponry wizardry may care or dare to deal,
and many an oratory hobbyist knew
dreams of riveting from podiums had to die,
so the man with oral magic could lead the way).

If I Could Draw 2

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so a wind hauling a load of loud
examples of mainland bluster
chose the worst junction to clobber words
in the process of trying to sketch
a quaint illumination, hoping
to shed some sense on a personal stance,

knowing under the blankets the same
desire as ever softly slumbered.
Meaning to say: truth is I see
the loud wind possesses pull these days,
and many a fiction excursion
converts this universe to Iowa.

If I Could Draw 1

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If I could draw
I’d star a meandering man
(and he’d obviously be
autobiographical)
perusing destinations
listed at a station – be it bus
or train or whatnot – public

means being the point; my
cartoon man would like me
be a bit rumpled in the wardrobe
and often mistaken for
harboring a standoffish air.
The agent behind the booth mesh
wakes with a sharp bark he who

forgot he was not lounging on
the cloud of a couch set on a porch
formed from soft plastic and warps
easily and for the sheer enjoyment
that meaningless warping
inherently is. Realizes
the agent behind the booth mesh asks

where our meandering man intends
to travel to, so there can be
an issuing of a ticket.
Honestly I am a bit stuck
says the meandering man.
Something about all destinations
attract me but I see I must choose

one or not go anywhere at all.
Too bad you haven’t a program
that would reward an adventurer
by allowing wide allowance
in the arena of choices.
Ah but we do have such a program, said
the agent behind the booth mesh. Buy one

special ticket, proceed to the platform,
and you can hop on whichever vessel
that most appeals – maybe strike up a chat
or simply snatch a snack and sit
and observe and listen; these folks
are going there and those folks are
bound for this world’s other end.

careful with these

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The revelation remained in hiding
until simplicity declared
they should observe caution and care
no more and whatever happened
to the upcoming tale’s primary

character would have to be
his or her trial or his or her
ascent into his or her true
bliss where fear was not able to breathe
or propagate; where accusations dealt

out of authority’s mouths were
repulsed well beyond garden walls – though
ivy vines and leaves shivered and quivered
along their stalwart homes of stone
acute foresight formed for the stable.

those rascals in the ethers

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suspicions insist on bending the shaft
so the arrow points to a notorious
culprit known in layman lingo
as that sly revelation breed
given to nibbling a mile by night

and in the day hiding by slumber
where what is plain is plenty shady
and for umpteen planetary years
these rascals can carry on so
and do it all but under pretty much all

villager noses – irrespective
it ought to be added, of a status
colloquially called chieftain or queen
– quite the practical joker too,
this breed of revelation, when

making people see as heavenly
what they were warned all their years as sins
and suddenly they are alone
and the revelation vanishes
leaving the wispiest mist of a trace

nothing else but practice-practice-practice-write-write-write

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Uptick in fortune
must on the horizon come
and raise the fountain from
its junior era sleep. How about
a near afternoon plan; and agree
to recognize no stinking group.
Seek substance from not a single

outer
idol.
Maybe a miracle
will lead the wiser to understand
that enrollment among types
does not further personal bliss;
granted there is entrancement

that happens with creatures
flaunting wares that threaten
to peek a perfumed whisper
from the heaven
hidden in a skirt
so drawing the easygoing dreamer
closer; and acknowledgment

of life
beyond
the circle
diminishes day
by day.
Oh to be such a victim
to her devil oils

there is no conscious meaning in this piece – I’m just trying to get back to the freewheeling style I once knew

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Thorny thoughts arrived en masse
and set up a veritable
sea of tents
as though to show those within
the fortress their hopes and prayers
would avail them little
but fleeting moments

of escapist buoyancy
brought by small squads of bright rays
born from the ocean of illusions.
The true sunrise threw
splashes of melted silver
across the waters which lent
glints to the tips – by the tips

are understood as what the tents
emit from their pointy tops.
Of course many in the fortress
flung all they were into the arms
belonging to general panic
which always maintains infinite space
across its desert which knows no border

nor minds that the rains by far
prefer forested clumps and fertile
riches dressed in juicy suits
of clovers and their fields dark and moist
– same as bees, many of whom
boldly plucked idea bundles
from a lady locals know as Bess.

I Can’t Do That but I Can Do This

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If I wasn’t such a poor poet I’d make a generous donation to LibreOffice. Unfortunately I’m a poor poet so I can’t make a donation to LibreOffice. But I will do this: pass along two-thumbs-up recommendation/endorsement for LibreOffice.

So the ol’ machine gave up the ghost a couple weeks ago and an angel I get to call mine showed great sympathy for my plight with an early birthday gift in the form of a new machine.

Unfortunately: back on the old machine I wrote a lot of stuff in the Works format – the word pad on this nice new machine does not recognize/support such files. And I mean I had a LOT of stuff potentially lost. Okay, there is the thirty day free Microsoft Word, but come on, that’s not the kind of pressure I want to live with or have to work under.

So I looked around for a solution (because the guy at the computer place transferred all the files from the kaput machine to this nice new machine), and lo there was LibreOffice. Took a whirl, trying to keep hopes from ascending too high… and wow! Everything. The thing opens everything – even stuff from an ancient machine that had even older files… opens everything.

Someday when I’m selling books, I will definitely catch up with giving them some support. Until then – should anyone out there need fine (and free!) word program… LibreOffice. It’s really saved my sorry ass.

Of course now I gotta get back to work…. which is another challenge I’ll not use to torture my precious followers.

But yeah – if ever in need – try LibreOffice.