I’ve got a lot going on right now.

• Editing pictures for Walt and Ali.
• 8’x4′ Group project starts March 2nd
• Installing Joomla on ShakespearesMonkeys.com
• design new online magazine
• Painting “Reaching for the Point”
• Final Edits to essay for “Without Reason Only Love”
• 5 more pieces of art for “Without Reason Only Love”
• Website for Old Court Irish Pub
• Profiles for artists at Western Ave
• Promotion & Marketing for Anstey Studios
• creating Resin Art Magnets
• 250poems done of 2013 poems planned for 2013 – working title “One Less I Than I” (Dale at Neopoeisis has dibs if she wants it, but other publishers are welcome to contact me.
• Submitting 365 poems in 2013.
• Finish “Apocalypse and a Passing Flea Circus” novel.
• Preparing Board for next painting.
• Drawings using models provided by Michael Viera at the Whistler House
• daily haiku
• daily blog post.

The world would not be so mad rotund and cool
without my friend to love and laugh aloud
The galaxy of course would not notice (it’s a fool)
too full of pride to know it is too proud

Alas, the unicorns will fart for him and then
the faeries, belching in unison, will call
for each a friend as wondrous as him. Again,
without’m the world wouldn’t be mad rotund at all.

I remind each of you of that night you never knew,
a pint slammed back with gusto in a room, dark
and ready for chicanery. Now, understand, you
will miss the grins intentioned or not in that lark

perpetrated by my friend’s eld, nascent palsy’s spread
from bone to bone, flesh to flesh, and still — he’s not quite dead.

long red hair – like an lava flow
becomes the warm insanity
of burning alive

my name?

I’m sorry, I forget the details,
you’ll have to ask me
later

when i can breathe.

reality reflects
through my spectacles
into the stony chambers
of my almost beating heart

my hands run
through the strands

could this be fabric?
is this me – woven
or braided – no
this is not me

my hair is gray
and white,

my name?

Perhaps another trip
up the Zambezi – to visit a crocodile
with my foot in his mouth?

if the cover to the pot of soup falls in
a hundred times – take it out
a hundred times

if you drop a dollar on the ground
a hundred times – pick it up
a hundred times

if the sun rises
a hundred times – get up
a hundred times.

The sun becomes a dozen dreams
the moon becomes a heart
the stars are never as they seem
and the world is far too tart.

The sun ascends to albatross
the hanging o’er the sea
The moon descends to emboss
the waves all drowning me

The sun forgets a cloud or two
the moon forgets the same
the stars forget what’s true
and I forget my name

I will provide memories of goats
in long sleeve footie pajamas
regardless whether you want them

If you need tea, I will want it too,
and steal it from a lady
who said, “I have enough,
thank you.”

If you want a zombie unicorn
named Alfred, I will make him
from jujubees and ski boots –
that will be enough, and if it’s not
then I will destroy you with fists
and cold clam chowder.

There is nothing more to say than this:
God provides, I provide
nothing but insanity
and the distant yearning
for daylight savings.

This is the truth: If I had long red hair
and smiled brighter than the sun
I would take what I wanted

The rage of my locks would be a legend
told to little boys who wanted nothing
but to grow up to be engineers.

My smile would be beautiful
kind and terrible and cruel
when I said, “Let me see.”

I would own whatever I wished
whatever i didn’t wish,
whatever I might someday wish
whatever I despise

For me, with long red hair
and a blazing smile, the universe
is not enough.