2029 lines
40 KiB
Plaintext
2029 lines
40 KiB
Plaintext
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From marco99@juno.com Sun Nov 8 18:06:33 1998
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Date: Sat, 07 Nov 1998 20:46:38 EST
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From: marc capelli <marco99@juno.com>
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To: editor@intst.com
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Subject: 33pomes.txt
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Resent-Date: Sat, 7 Nov 98 19:54:22 CST
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Resent-From: <editor@intst.com>
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Resent-To: editor@ns2.cross-roads1.com
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JOURNAL POME 1
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by prime anarchist. previously published in a 33-poem book of
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poetry entitled "I Slurp My Coffee." (c)1995
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Fireguard schmireguard, I'm in the
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Choir. Colorado 1st impression:
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Kansas border from plane-- looks like a
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Rock; trees and houses stuck on it.
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Ski's suitcases like huge
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Musket carrying bags.
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Sight landing in plane?
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300 miles of beach sand.
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Welcome to the semi-desert.
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Dry mouth, nose bleeding off & on
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For 16 hours. Short of breath
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On a 1 flight staircase.
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Sore muscles ail all morning. From walking??
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Saltless water, oxygenless air; a
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Bouyanciless jellyfish float in a lake.
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Responseless foto-gray glasses just stay
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Dark. Closer to the sun? Crisp papertowels
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And toilet paper you can write on.
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Coffee houses everywhere. One 4 each 7-11.
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Aztec cooking all around. Empty rivers not
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Flowing under bridges; called a wash.
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Jasmin tea and onion bagel in
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Ice cream parlour; ice cream
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And coffee in bagelteria. Lemon
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Zinger tea in mason jar over ice.
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"ROCKY MOUNTAIN HAIKU:
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Or Sign On Wall":
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DON'T DRINK AND ROCK CLIMB--
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YOU WON'T BE ABLE TO HOLD
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YOUR LIQUOR. GOOD DAY.
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This has been ATI 70.
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dedicated to James Ingram Merrill
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Dead: gone; still with us
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Poiesies In Our Pockets.
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JOURNAL POEM 2
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I feel misplaced;
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My rock used to be in the bank.
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Now it's washed down the river,
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Maybe at the bottom of the sea by now;
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Or maybe on top of some mountain.
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Whatever happened to John DeLorean?
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That aluminum car - so costly. Maybe he
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Rusted, or washed into some sea.
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Of obscurity. Or invested.
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In fossil fuel.
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A miner's head-lamp, laptop and a
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Portable computerprinter -- never mind
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Walderness Pond; I'll go write in a
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Cave. Live on roots.
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You mean French onion soup's not
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Vegetarian?? Cheez whiz, gadzookamaluga.
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Prefix: Gad. Suffix: Uga. Root: zookamal.
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Do you remember cruisin' Main Street?
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Smaller towns still do it.
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Is this the 40's again: or what?
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They probably wear sharks tooths too.
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And fossils.
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With dry sense of humor; who needs a towel?
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Gadzookamaluga-
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Webster 1958. pg 569.
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(n) ((bad expression. from early bourgeois,
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Gadfly- annoying. from caveman, ugh- dunno.
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Middle american for doggeral, bad poetry.))
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Someone who can't express himself well.
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"What a gadzookamaluga." Clinically a
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Writer's block. "I'm gadzookamaluga'd
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Now, go easy on me."
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Someone's rhetoric simply stinks.
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"Gadzookamaluga!"
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Great synonym for "Bullshit."
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"Dolapachont" is Navajo for "bullshit."
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I used to know it in Laguna too.
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JOURNAL POEM 3
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by prime anarchist. previously published in a 33-poem book of
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poetry entitled "I Slurp My Coffee." (c)1995
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Old Pomes. New Pomes.
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Borrowed pomes; blue pomes.
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Funny pomes, sad pomes; goofy and glad pomes.
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Pomes pomes. pomes pomes, eat them up - yum.
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Make alliteration instead of legislation.
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Ah, all's well that "and's" well-
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And all are about action.
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Skip, jump, lay there, run, smile, frown.
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Run around, skip the jumping;
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Lay there down.
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Who chewed a page outa my pomes?
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You're not s'posed to chew:
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Eat them delicately.
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Luscious, yummy, soft delicious yellow pomes.
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Moist, meaty, mysterious succulent pomes.
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Pomes about poets, presidents, pests
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And pomes full of juice.
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I eat pomes.
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Do you eat pomes?
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Red pomes, yellow pomes, green poems.
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Don't eat the blue ones.
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JOURNAL POEM 4 by me.
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Pictures DooDled -- Poor richarDs.
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Drunk as a skunk. Or was it
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Broke As a sPoke.
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A Piss test my Donation.
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Army Days, in harm's ways like a
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Drunken haze & some Prunk (*) with PeroxiDe
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Strawbery brown (can you say attemPted
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BlonDe??) hair goes and gets about
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Seven extra forks so her frienDs coulD
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All share her fettucini AlfreDo.
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They say Amerika is Dumming.
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Well it DiD take me five years on one
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Book. "But no matter," Kerouac says.
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"The roaD is life."
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Does every town have a flea-market now
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At their Dog track?
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Please tiP the street singer - he's an
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Out of work Physics teacher, you know.
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Diga, Oye. SPot me a Dollar, eh?
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PayPhone with a Phist Phull of coPPer.
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Postcard of a Doll at GoD's GarDen's
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TraDing Post.
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If you ran out of sPunk halfway uP the
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Rock woulD'ya Dangle uP there til 'ya
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MustarD more air or'D 'ya flail and
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Flinch 'til some guy with a winch
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Came uP and saveD 'ya before you
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PlummetteD DeaD in your
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Store-bought moccasins?
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Please feeD the Ducks.
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They're out of work sky tourists
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>From South Dakota.
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INTERMISSION:
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I think you'd have to be inside
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A wooden outhouse in January to
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See pearly white frost covering
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String of spiderwebs all around
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Filing a Pile of PaPers
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Some Don't go anywhere.
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DeaD letter file? Making a Place
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Just Doing it, keePing mouth shut.
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Playing Pen like a Piano.
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Please PheeD the Politician.
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He's an out of work rabbi.
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Graphical ziti on unisex bathroom wall:
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I shat in BermuDa
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I shat in France
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Before I shat here
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I shat in my pants.
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Please Don't feeD the Poet
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He's an out of work
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Street musician mythological PhilosoPhical
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Sky-Diver from Denver.
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*Prunk -(Pronoun) half-breeD of PrePPy anD Punk.
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JOURNAL POEM 5 previously published in a
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UCONN quarterly under a true name.
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fall '95.
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Woman wearing topaz bolo tie
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Dismantles her "NO TRESPASSING"
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Unfurls her new "NO SKATEBOARDING."
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Cooling off by a fake waterfall
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I watch lead, rhythm and bass
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Zylophonists play "Not what it used
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To Be," their final cut-
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Slices thru my heart like Swiss Army
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Sawblade thru sun-melted butter.
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Hold the Coke and smile, I want
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RC Cola and a wince.
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Slept thru half an Eagles song-
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Woke up; clock saying 1189 p.m.-
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2 many people w/ fake black hair-
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1st Ronald McDonald was vegetarian-
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Guess I woke up on the wrong side of-
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The driver's seat: damn those digitals.
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Dale Carnegie once said, "Plan for
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The worst -- and hope for the best."
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"This isn't a bagel," he said once
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Too, "It's white bread with a hole."
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Inchworms are the same, the world over:
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Just a little different in size.
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JOURNAL POEM 6 by Marc Frucht
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50 mete(o)rs per hour;
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Quite a shower to see.
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Playing Celtic music;
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Drinking coffee at Java
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At the Hut eating the "Longest
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French fries in Colorado,"
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I read "Continued On Back Flap,"
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By Sue Dunham.
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Chapel of the Open Air uses the
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Thomas Jefferson version of
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The Bible. Pavilion protects
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Overhead, logs to sit on;
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Unfinished lumber lectern.
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Long walks in the park, just B4 dark,
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Married couple - listening to
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Seperate walkman stereos
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As they stroll the walkway.
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Who needs canteen hiking when
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7-11's every hundred yards?
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Splast (n) from Coloradan - "blast"
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Early Rhode Islandan "splash," to
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Have a great deal of fun, wet.
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"Splastic," using rubber rafts in
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Said funmaking. "Splasm" having
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Simply too much water fun.
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Eg: "Bring your friends over to the
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Flash flood. We're having a splast."
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Thanks for the etymology
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Earl Grey.
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JOURNAL POEM 7 by Marc Frucht
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Write a song called "Parchese With Two Pieces Missing,"
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just So the reviewer can say
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"And the band played Parchese with Two Pieces Missing."
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>From center lake the mountain Has powdered sugar on top:
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>From 7000 feet athlete's foot falls off.
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I just flew in from Aspen and boy are my lips chapped.
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Shopping for goods in a snowy sleeveless thing,
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Reagan shaves half his head; half for brain surgery,
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Half for the press.
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I just got a job in Aspen and boy, Suzy Chapstick
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Looks anorexic.
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Monkery is an only business.
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You ever seen a moose relieve himself?
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Cruising' Denver in a kevlar sport coat, the sassafras' mittens Make me
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homesick for Connecticut.
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And the band played Schmaltzing Godzilla.
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Papagayo's chilitos & cheese. Onion salsa's free too.
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Zing. During Dogma Doug's dobro solo, Hurricane Hugo
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Hit Havana hard.
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Thunder & Buttons eating a buffalo burger listening to Marley's "Buffalo
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Soldier" during thundershowers: veja du.
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I just rode a horse from Aspen and boy are my chaps ripped.
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Blue corn tortilla laced with saut_ed jalapenos- quite the bite. Like
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eating at the maco shark while he's still alive. And wet. A green card
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isn't white any more - it's pink.
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Only thing worse than "tennis elbow?"
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Bicycle-butt.
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Never mix Tang(tm) with water from a mineral spring... Explosive.
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553 a.m. A cold peppermint moon, eating
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Cold pizza - pineapple and peppers.
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How many loggers does it take to build a cinder block
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house?
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Depends how many eagle nests.
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They're building a tunnel from Arizona to China.
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Called a strip mine.
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In a $185 leather day pack knapsack, I'll look really Bohemian, holy cow.
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I just rode my bike to Aspen and boy am I chaffed.
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JOURNAL POEM 8. PREVIOUSLY PUBLISHED IN A FEW OTHER PUBS. (not sayin
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which)
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Laminated escapade on Land Canoe
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A 10speed. Same feeling from
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Biking as paddling: freedom.
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People-watching in Pueblo park.
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Peaceful people, Pueblo.
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Penciled onto pay phone:
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Lost- a profound piece from the
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Cake of liberty. Leftover
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Pineapple petroglyphs.
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MONAMI's the plate from El Paso county.
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Must've taken a wrong turn in Albuquerque.
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You know you're southwest when you
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Get the Espanol radio. Welcome to Pyebbelo.
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"Miami" es Cuban por "my friend."
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How do you say "move" in Cuban?
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Perfecto movado, doodo.
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The music's just right and the
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People are so dad bloomed nice &
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Warm to each other I'm about to cry.
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"3M-TA3." Write it down and
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Look in the mirror. What a Witty piece of grafitty.
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Homeboy holds up Motel 6: steals register,
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Cash and phone. Clean getaway. Smart.
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Only in Santa Fe.
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Bet I know who wrote "Eat-me"
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All over a bathroom mirror. Who knew?
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Only good thing Yale ever gave America
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Was fortress locks.
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pinon Canon petroglyphs of the people.
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Tiny writing; hardly see,
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Much less read it!
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Drink more coffee; you'll make it out.
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Well, that's about it for ATI 78.
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Tune in next week when we whip through the world of koolwip. Or was that
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horsewhip a whippoorwill? Or will we wind up a watermelon whistle? Nah,
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we'll
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just whistle Dixie.
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JOURNAL POME 9
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Colorado Ave. drinkin tea
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Tasting of a rusty old sewer
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Sitting on Sitting Thinking Stone
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Thinking of places never been to.
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Strongest coffee north of Santa Fe.
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Bike lock cable wedged into spokes
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Like steel spaghetti: thief runs off
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Into daylight yonder. Rage, I think
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About, letting go -- unravelling
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Bike lock. Tightening spokes to
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Hand-true. A ruined cable, I ponder
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Too- a saved mountain bike.
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Haiku: Cap'n Crunch, walnuts,
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Gatorade and elephant
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Peanuts. Yummy. Huh?
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Take a load off your mind-- your
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Cerebral cortex, corpus collosum,
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Cranial cavity. Your canoggin.
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"They're not bald spots," says
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Zac Taylor. "It's worry skin."
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What a yutz.
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Lady with bouffant falls like President Ford
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Off a piper plane-- cologne smelling like
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It cost more than my college education.
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What a clutz.
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Rock star tries to "pick up chick." Spandex
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Shirt, leather pants, 5'4" with 5-inch heels.
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You know me? I'm with that band. I'm the
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Light man, take my hand. He looks down
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Her 10-year-old cleavage-less concert t-shirt.
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What a putz.
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Army wife tries to pick me up. Spandex shirt,
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Leather skirt. 5 foot 2 blond hair with roots.
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I know you. I sat at the corner with Mai Tais.
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You dance real good, she says. I wasn't even
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In whatever bar she's cornered. Who she thinks
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I am I wondered. I look down her arm at her ring
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Finger, glittering shimmeringly. Sorry, I say.
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I don't date sluts.
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And Sleeping Buffalo lays pensively,
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Vigilant; brown and gray with white
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Splotches marbled in. Hills can make
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You forget what ocean would look like.
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Mountains drive me nuts.
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JOURNAL POEM 10 by marc frucht
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Panamania Just Cause
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President says, "Operation."
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Why? "Just 'cause."
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New Years '90 my horoscope says
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I gotta make more long distance
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Calls. I wonder how much THEY
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Owe on THEIR telephony bill?
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Old man on a penny farthing bicycle
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Rides to work in a business suit
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Strokes waxed handlebar mustache
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Before waving. Is he the one who
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Sold me that motor scooter?
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Gweeb (n) from Youth Underground, "Dweeb,"
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Dorky, with an element of gooberishness.
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IE: He's a gweeb for eating Raisonettes.
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(TM. Proctor & Gamble)
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Ate whitebread for the first
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Time in over a year. Like a
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Sticky soft sugary sponge.
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Dextromethorophan. Medicine heaD -- DM
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Wild Turkey & Grapefruit: Called a WeT GanJ.
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White woman from France,
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Wild wet and full of fun-
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Will wish for foreplay;
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Wishes to will her fifty-seven Ford;
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Wantonly waiting for free fantasy.
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Winners win fresh fone #'s:
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Dial 1-900-WILL WORK FOR FOOD.
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Rhyme schemes make 'em socially acceptable,
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Rhythm makes 'em flow;
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But alliteration makes 'em work,
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And metaphor drives 'em home.
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JOURNAL POEM 11 from the book "I Slurp My Coffee."
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"Crash," wakes the soldier
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Rushing outside with nothing
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On but dogtags & cockleburrs.
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Space shuttle goes up like a
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Sashweight; down like a
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Smashing window.
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She puts on clothes and
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Consequently consumes cocoa
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Crispies and canned apple
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Sauce for Breakfast.
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Same day, J's restaurant:
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Breakfast all day.
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The lard patty in toast
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With an egg on it; she
|
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Porks it down faster
|
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Than you can say
|
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Cholesterol.
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2 nights jail for jaywalking
|
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That's for Miss Demeanor
|
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Fellow neonious jaywalking
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Carries the maximinium of
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Death.
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JOURNAL POEM 12 from the selfpublished (150 copies) "I Slurp My Coffee."
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by
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Marc Harry Ehrenfrucht.
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Our Revolution
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Seventeen seventy six:
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Merely a French coup?
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Dress loud and tip big.
|
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Waiting for payday for a
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Pepper pizza pie.
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John Waters says he
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Wants to be Walt Disney for
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Peculiar children.
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Vegetarian
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Chili is just perfect for
|
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Personality.
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Sometimes I put too
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Many haikus in each poem;
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sometimes I do not.
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Banana, cottage cheese, grapefruit,
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Tuna sandwich, homefries and coffee.
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Sleeping too deeply to dream.
|
|
Airborne, infantry, cattle rancher
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|
Or rodeo clown?
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|
Woke up one morning
|
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Wanting to run away and
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|
Join the circus:
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|
Then I got in my
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Army uniform and
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Reported for work.
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I'll see that when I
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Believe it. A play on words;
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And also a haiku.
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Easter on the Pearl Street Mall,
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Rich carries a piano on his
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Back. 4 wheel dolly and a
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Shoulder harness.
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Upright piano on the
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Sidewalk for tips.
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JOURNAL POEM 13 from "I SLURP MY COFFEE: A Book Length Poetry Manuscript"
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by Marc Weisenheimer.
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"How Many Haiku?"
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Debbie Does Donuts
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HIRE OUR KEYS. POOP VAN SCOOP: PICKS
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UP WHERE YOUR DOG LEAVES OFF.
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|
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For "Gross Encounters of the
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Turd Kind," The ad says. Claims
|
|
To be #1 in the #2 business.
|
|
More men would eat 'em if we
|
|
Spelled Quiche with a "k." (keesh?)
|
|
Treppy (n) a trendy hippy. Usually
|
|
Found in coffee houses.
|
|
EG: the treppy jumped over
|
|
The moon. (pl) treppies.
|
|
(adj) a style of hippy.
|
|
(adv) treppyish.
|
|
You mean I'll make twelve
|
|
A day tax free singin songs
|
|
On a sidewalk now???
|
|
I drank a bottle of acid
|
|
Rain water -- how come nothing
|
|
Happened except the mens room?
|
|
Whatever happened
|
|
To the Frito Bandito?
|
|
"Homemade song," he says.
|
|
I wonder why I
|
|
Always look out a
|
|
Window while I brush my teeth
|
|
Wherever I am.
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|
Colorado rainbows are just
|
|
Green, yellow and a lot of red.
|
|
Your seat can be used as a
|
|
Flotation device.
|
|
Center yourself in the botanical
|
|
Garden, hands in pockets, head
|
|
Tilted back, eyes closed, staring
|
|
At sun. Cures allergies.
|
|
Ingredients: herbs,
|
|
Rhubarb, strawberries, spices,
|
|
Nectars and flowers.
|
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|
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Perigree moon.
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JOURNAL POEM 14 BY MARCO
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|
|
Coffee buzz at Denny's 4AM.
|
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|
|
How do you outrun a storm on a 10speed?
|
|
Ride really hard Buck, and don't look back.
|
|
Ask a local ahead of time, when is
|
|
Thunder's first most likely crack.
|
|
|
|
Mexicali tofu and a hot potato salad.
|
|
New England chowder and a quesedilla.
|
|
Salad, soup & sandwich bar sumptous.
|
|
Home of the perfect hummus.
|
|
What's in a guacamole salad?
|
|
Can I get my espresso in a to-go cup?
|
|
|
|
A sagebrush tumbleweed
|
|
Squeezes out under a Ford Falcon;
|
|
Bounces up toward my face
|
|
Then around over my head.
|
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|
|
Cripple Creek or Bust.
|
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|
|
If you don't want a watch tan:
|
|
Then don't wear a watch.
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JOURNAL POEM 15 by Prime Anarchist aka Marco Capelli
|
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|
|
Hill climb.
|
|
up a hill;
|
|
up a hill;
|
|
up a hill;
|
|
up a hill;
|
|
up a hill;
|
|
up a hill;
|
|
Up a hill.
|
|
You can't find good clam
|
|
Chowder up a hill.
|
|
Great cod, but lousy chowder.
|
|
2 stroke oil: that'd get you
|
|
Up a hill. Or take a cog.
|
|
|
|
There's 575 lefts in 3/4 of a mile.
|
|
Are there any fossils of people
|
|
Up a hill? Or just fish?
|
|
Blisters: Don't shoogoo (tm) sneakers
|
|
If you'll be climbing up a hill.
|
|
Red zinger iced tea.
|
|
Throw these shoes to the rats.
|
|
Sunset from a foothill.
|
|
Setting behind the hill.
|
|
|
|
Chapstick will be
|
|
Crucial up a hill.
|
|
Calves hurt: heels too.
|
|
Blister the size of Boulder.
|
|
|
|
NORAD's storming pretty
|
|
Hard down there.
|
|
Barr Camp -- 4 bucks a night
|
|
In an A-frame,
|
|
Half way up her purple
|
|
Mountain's majesty.
|
|
|
|
I'm so high it's
|
|
Raining sideways.
|
|
Up a hill.
|
|
2 miles.
|
|
Barefoot.
|
|
Both ways.
|
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|
|
journal poem 16.
|
|
Cloudwalker's in Cripple Creek Co.
|
|
I sit in Manitou eating
|
|
Australian Hoki fish.
|
|
Permanentate is a verb.
|
|
Hey cullinder-brain, I say
|
|
A toasted bagel and cream
|
|
Cheese is just not complete
|
|
Without sprouts and tomatoes.
|
|
Wrist burns on motor scooter:
|
|
Were not for wearing watch;
|
|
Would've been way worse.
|
|
And the gasoline was green;
|
|
It's usually blue out here.
|
|
You notice these things.
|
|
Clam cakes will get worse
|
|
And worse the wester you get
|
|
>From Connecticut.
|
|
Weather: Loaf-&-Jug
|
|
Sticky bun: 69c Cold,
|
|
Wet, raining, pelting.
|
|
So real wet. Hurry gotta
|
|
Make it to the shower to
|
|
Beat those pneumonia blues.
|
|
Snobbish canadians in Stonington,
|
|
Salesman convalescing in Saybrook;
|
|
Swedes congested in sarcasm. And
|
|
Seaweed collecting by sewer-systems.
|
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|
|
JOURNAL POME 17 by Marc Frucht
|
|
reprinted from I Slurp My Coffee, (c) 1929.
|
|
|
|
"what if they staged a war and everyone was on triple-dip?"
|
|
"23x23x23x23x23"
|
|
For James Ingram Merrill
|
|
Dead: gone; still with us --
|
|
Poiesies in our pockets.
|
|
|
|
"Esconse," the Ultimate Lawmakers.
|
|
Why do we insist on a terrorist
|
|
In our tank, and a texan
|
|
In our treasury; when we can easily
|
|
Save our cents using common sense???
|
|
10-piece celtic band in Poor Richards
|
|
Coffee house, Colorado Springs.
|
|
Peace Pole put up in Boulder.
|
|
Esconse (v) tuck away in safe place.
|
|
Pescado taco with turtle beans and
|
|
Tortilla chips -- and blue corn too.
|
|
Esconder (v) spanish. hide or conceal
|
|
"Tipping is not a town in China,"
|
|
Says a jar at the cash register.
|
|
Canopy forest. Snag, sponge, erosion
|
|
Control, bugz, fog, forests are cool.
|
|
& my guatemalan pincushions's a sick
|
|
Cactus. Too much water? Not enuff sun?
|
|
I titled my first book "By the
|
|
Author Of" so my second book's
|
|
Jacket says, "By the author of
|
|
By the Author Of."
|
|
We're in the age of overt covert
|
|
Action, legitimate terrorism
|
|
And organized anarchy.
|
|
Ceremony - Dia De La Muerta, a
|
|
Gigantic cloth mushroom on the
|
|
Dance floor, dancing with a Road.
|
|
Route 69, she has "Loose Curves,"
|
|
Is "Slippery When Wet," and has
|
|
"Soft Shoulders."
|
|
Angel drinks Cutty Sark slow dancing
|
|
With Friar Tuckette: she has to take
|
|
Off her wings to use the powder room.
|
|
Dolphin turns to herring, says, "hey
|
|
Little guy: next time playing against
|
|
The odds? Win one for the Flipper."
|
|
I got a Coca-Cola headache
|
|
And a chainsaw buzz.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"I Slurp My Coffee," which was dedicated: For James Ingram Merrill
|
|
Dead: gone; still with us --
|
|
Poiesies in our pockets.
|
|
|
|
JOURNAL POEM 18
|
|
And Maude Hadassah talks about
|
|
Women's Anti High Price League
|
|
>From atop an overturned
|
|
Pushcart -- 1917.
|
|
So my Gonzo pseudonym this
|
|
Nite being paz O'Guerra I read
|
|
"Mexico City Blues," by
|
|
Jacky Kerouacky in the desert
|
|
While my unit supports 2-7th
|
|
Cavalry. Kept it in my cargo
|
|
Pocket. Word pictures amazing
|
|
Blazing, dazing, mezmarizing.
|
|
He'll realize he's sucking on
|
|
The clarinet before he chokes.
|
|
Hey Steel Belted Tar Pelted:
|
|
Would you like the laws and
|
|
Liturgy or morals and myth?
|
|
|
|
Walden Pond Condominiums says
|
|
Come enjoy your individuality
|
|
With us. Dial 1-900-NEW-GURU.
|
|
Calls are just $35 a minute.
|
|
Ask your parents B4 dropping out.
|
|
|
|
James Ingoldsby invented vitamin
|
|
C tablets, then years later??
|
|
Pop Rocks!
|
|
"I tawt I taw a toffee mug," says
|
|
Alvin C. Block, "I did I did, I
|
|
Hallucinated a toffee mug!!!"
|
|
|
|
Coffee grounds. Some spilled
|
|
Coffee grounds. Do you slurp?
|
|
Some finely ground spilled-on-the
|
|
Ground coffee grounds.
|
|
|
|
So Mecca and Medina join hands.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
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|
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|
|
|
|
|
|
|
JOURNAL POME 19.
|
|
|
|
9am: No Haiku. Bloody Marys and
|
|
Darts in Manitou Pub over fried
|
|
Hoki fish on whole wheat toast.
|
|
It's said chewing ice means a
|
|
lack of sex, or maybe just iron.
|
|
Blackstrap molasses an aphrodesiac??
|
|
Sage. Dylan sings "Masters Of War,"
|
|
But hardly anyone notices the words.
|
|
Who's boycotting Grammy's THIS year?
|
|
Watching "Dobie Gillis" reruns from
|
|
Atop mountain-bike in front of
|
|
Wally World's window-front.
|
|
Purple and blue dreams over hot
|
|
Brown coffee at a wine-red IHOP;
|
|
A majestic sunset out the window.
|
|
Sunday sunrise reflects Cheyenne.
|
|
Knee deep in reality; not weird
|
|
Enough for me. Jello, cottage cheese,
|
|
A pear and three Orange Juices -
|
|
Talk about your acid...
|
|
Then the "Ferret Crew" checks out
|
|
Tunnels connecting from Cheyenne
|
|
Mountain to Pikes Peak. Though...
|
|
NORAD never blinks.
|
|
Glutimus hurtimus maximus: & what
|
|
Will help allay pain of bicycle
|
|
Butt. Want of devil's claw, burdock
|
|
Root and blackstrap molasses.
|
|
|
|
C-130 slams into Angolan mountain.
|
|
Cargo? CIA says TOP SECRET.
|
|
Author suggests:
|
|
Dead soldiers & dry ice.
|
|
"...you that hide behind desks..."
|
|
Dancing in snow on the foothills
|
|
Making onkh, peace-sign, anarchy,
|
|
Pentagram and snow angel.
|
|
"...know I can see thru your masks..."
|
|
|
|
2-4am. Called "Owl's Hours."
|
|
Not sure if 2morrow's 2day,
|
|
Or 2day's 2nite or 2morrow.
|
|
So Carl orders catholic
|
|
Transvestite salad with
|
|
The cross dressing, snickers - &
|
|
Tells me about Wally wanker and
|
|
The chippity doo da sarsparilla
|
|
Root sodie pop factory.
|
|
|
|
Techno check: Magazine rack
|
|
Made of #SE-6 virgin vinyl.
|
|
What-in-the-universe?!?
|
|
5-piece midi band. One canned
|
|
|
|
Brushes, another synthed sax,
|
|
Viola, cello and flute are
|
|
Really virtually there.
|
|
These guys wear black & white,
|
|
Sitting behind sheet music.
|
|
1st #'s an instrumental:
|
|
Vainright's "Dead Skunk in the
|
|
Middle of the Road." What?!?
|
|
Go figure.
|
|
|
|
So Mecca absconds all of Medina's
|
|
Funny looking grapefruits.
|
|
Note on fridge:
|
|
Ate 'em all.
|
|
So green.
|
|
Delisch
|
|
.
|
|
|
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|
|
JOURNAL POME 20.
|
|
BOOT HILL OR BUST
|
|
Lunch; Castle Rock: Still
|
|
Further sings for the dead.
|
|
Pitch covers Yaw, and graveyard
|
|
Sings back from across street.
|
|
Boot Hill, Colorado: Wild Turkey,
|
|
Water and wine. Almost poison.
|
|
"Commentary vouz," says Chipmonk-
|
|
Looking squirrel guarding his nuts.
|
|
Why must prophets die penniless?
|
|
Hotsprings everywhere.
|
|
Dreams of Halloweens.
|
|
"Do you have a Rainbow name?" Anna asks.
|
|
"Information," I inform, "given by
|
|
Tom Joad. Yours?"
|
|
"Matteo gave me it. Spells Anna backwards."
|
|
"Zhoinks!" says Scooby Doo.
|
|
"A computerized washing machine's not
|
|
Worth the tin it's printed on."
|
|
Rapid City - You can read the weather off
|
|
Jefferson's forehead and Lincoln's chin.
|
|
Went sole searching, just got scrod.
|
|
Newport, RI. Bought Birkenstock Arizonas
|
|
>From Thames St. cobbler after chowderfest.
|
|
Blood red moon drops in on Ocean Beach.
|
|
440 a.m. Grapeful Dead on FM.
|
|
& no fog rolls up New London Harbour 2day.
|
|
|
|
Moorehead, MINN. 2-masted Viking ship.
|
|
Earl Eye In The Morning
|
|
Tells jokes on FM radio.
|
|
Fargo, ND. Might as well be Moorehead.
|
|
Squash and Barq's root beer, then
|
|
Minuet in G under concrete
|
|
Buffalo balls.
|
|
There's a box of buffalo
|
|
Manure in Bismark and Mandan too.
|
|
Ground Round, good coffee, great
|
|
Cod, but blah chowder.
|
|
3.9 richter quake tremor for Danbury.
|
|
Nervous, CT. Has a fault of her
|
|
Own. Albany's fault too.
|
|
"Seizmik," says Scooby Doo.
|
|
She who takes limo to Dylan Concert
|
|
Serves two masters.
|
|
Radio station and cocaine. Zhoinks!
|
|
A Beatrice New-Fig-Newton: car or cookie??
|
|
|
|
Medina parries; Mecca thrusts.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Journal Poem 21 from "I Slurp My Coffee" by Marco
|
|
|
|
Ram Dass and Denny's Dishwashers,
|
|
Driving to Santa Fe.
|
|
Hindi Hostel, Dine.
|
|
A humungus stirfry.
|
|
Hotsprings, headaches &
|
|
Hindu hippies in a hogan.
|
|
Dayglow Daisy's on a bus.
|
|
Hootenany Green! Hibernating a
|
|
Hurt shoulder; pickup hitchers:
|
|
Duck & Lizabeth Santa Fe to Boulder.
|
|
A Cochiti drum shucking corn all day.
|
|
Frybread and honey, a des(s)ert of
|
|
Pottery. Shards of southwest.
|
|
Directory assistance, gas,
|
|
Grapefruit and pomegranite
|
|
In Hotevilla, Arizona.
|
|
|
|
Red clay on a Black Mesa face.
|
|
This particular medicine man
|
|
Is a blind woman. She's quite
|
|
Hard of hearing too & very aged.
|
|
Canyons make great ampitheatres
|
|
FM drops right out though. Wonder
|
|
Is my guitar the only music this
|
|
Canyon's heard in centuries?
|
|
|
|
Mutton, noodles and potatoes in
|
|
A broth & bluecorn frybread with
|
|
Coffee. Out of honey; almost the
|
|
Breakfast of champion
|
|
Sheepherders.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
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|
|
|
|
|
JOURNAL POEM 22
|
|
|
|
Army, the only place I know
|
|
Where ladies room's nothing
|
|
More than a men's room with
|
|
The urinals duct-taped shut.
|
|
Cedar wood and mud warm and
|
|
Cozy... toasty dry despite
|
|
Winter under and above clay.
|
|
How do you reclaim a uranium
|
|
Mine?!? City park? Golf -
|
|
Course?? Sod farm???
|
|
Coffee and a warm sweetroll
|
|
At Tuba City Truck Stop.
|
|
|
|
If your herb garden grows
|
|
Slow and late it's a thyme delay.
|
|
Did you know that "wonton"
|
|
Spelled backwards is "not now?"
|
|
What d'ya call a whatchamacallit
|
|
Shop? Just that.
|
|
Last All-Hallows-Eve the baby
|
|
Sitter went as a leather mouse
|
|
What're you?? I'm a mud bog.
|
|
Or was that a ground hog?
|
|
Tse Bonito and Window Rock...
|
|
Ancient tourist traps...
|
|
Oraibi... the oldest...
|
|
Taos, Tuscon, or Taylor...
|
|
Which is trendier?
|
|
Electric cello: like Woodie Guthrie
|
|
Walking into Karaoke nite at Lulu's
|
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Luscious Locust, 14th and Ave. X.
|
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C&W music in a major way...
|
|
Conway Twitty's where I get
|
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Off this ride. & change channels.
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6-Foot Wedgie plays a gig at
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The Russian Lady restaurant.
|
|
Que concept... like cranberry nut
|
|
Frybread. Paul Harvey is like the
|
|
Faded fotocopy of Will Rogers.
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|
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Woke up with either pigsnot and
|
|
Venom, vim and vinegar or Just
|
|
A whole bunch of vigorous
|
|
Vitality. Or was it just the
|
|
Vidal Sassoon???
|
|
Homemade blood sausage. Takes guts
|
|
To eat. Taste good, like a tender
|
|
Spinach leaf. I'd try anything
|
|
Once... that was my once, like a
|
|
Sliced intestine full of leftovers.
|
|
If squash is 1 of the 3 sisters,
|
|
She must be the short one.
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Bacitracin can't compete w/ pinon pine sap.
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|
|
And JC Penier, clothier to the
|
|
Mallrat knows nothing of KMarticus,
|
|
The bluelight king of Upholstry;
|
|
Neither knows thing of braintanning.
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So Navajo Nation's only radio station
|
|
Plays hit kicking country. Western.
|
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You know you need a bath when
|
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The sheep won't let you in the pen if even 2 let them out.
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JOURNAL POEM 23 by Marco Capelli
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Pomegranite.
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Does anger have taste?
|
|
Car's down 'til roads clear.
|
|
December the freezin' season.
|
|
2-8 a.m. only good times to drive;
|
|
Least bit of thaw slides you
|
|
Off-road.
|
|
Big Mountain, thrown off a horse;
|
|
Hauling water & hay for the elders.
|
|
Fixing hay shack, chopping wood.
|
|
VW microbus' 1st gear freezes stuck.
|
|
'Til 10am or so. (so cold & dry.)
|
|
Jan. 7, 1992. 9am. Lamb born to
|
|
The sheep who looks like Don King.
|
|
Denny makes coffee for wider eyes;
|
|
And 85th monkey follows the wind
|
|
Pondering the 4 directions. Red,
|
|
White, yellow and black; Nevada,
|
|
Mexico City, Washington, or Spain.
|
|
James buys Edensoy in Winslow's
|
|
Art Colony Fish Hatchery Homeless
|
|
Veterans Shelter. Vanilla's good;
|
|
Original's not. Run cooperatively
|
|
Sells bikes and skateboards too.
|
|
Customary cleaning woodstove each
|
|
Sunrise. Ash is for the outhouses
|
|
Always keep hot water on in case
|
|
Company comes. And the door key
|
|
Hangs from lower branch of a tree.
|
|
What's yellow, black and white?
|
|
Uranium.
|
|
Headache and much noise. "Don't herd
|
|
The sheep near the uranium wash,"
|
|
Auntie says, "makes them act wild."
|
|
Well, you would too if you had those
|
|
Headaches.
|
|
Told my guardian angels are spiders,
|
|
Whales, porcupines, buffalo, crows,
|
|
Badgers, turtles, bats & dolphins.
|
|
Roasted pinons; like chestnuts the
|
|
Size of roasted coffee beans.
|
|
"Nova" means food in Hopi.
|
|
"O" is yes in Navajo. "Ba" is bread.
|
|
Go figure.
|
|
So what's red, white, yellow and black?
|
|
Pomegranite in a wash full of
|
|
Uranium.
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JOURNAL POEM 24
|
|
Cappuccino.
|
|
Monkey and Bull make meal of
|
|
Pomegranite, potatoes, pineapple & peppers.
|
|
LL Zamenhof worked Pepsi's graveyard
|
|
Shift til the day he died. Poetic.
|
|
Death not for lack of irony.
|
|
For growing calamity, asks Esperanza,
|
|
Does one need fertilizer?
|
|
Removes tongue from cheek.
|
|
1477. Chris visits Iceland inquiring
|
|
As a wannabe Portugese picking up
|
|
Waterfront gossip of "the NewFound Lands."
|
|
Looks like Lawnmower Man on valium.
|
|
Vacation - Grape Cod. Dwelling on payola,
|
|
Punkrock, and plasma in Adobe Abode.
|
|
Hystorically, a bladder bag full of bull.
|
|
Mother Earth, you are beaux, bela, belle,
|
|
Beautiful - Where's Dr. Esperanto
|
|
When you NEED him??
|
|
|
|
Peabody Coal purchases Cavenham
|
|
Forest for a copper penny.
|
|
Mrs. Farthing leaves a pie on her porch for
|
|
The plutonium miners. Make mine a strip so
|
|
Rare IT'S STILL IN THE GROUND.
|
|
Spineless as a Portugese Man O'War, now if
|
|
That ain't the scumm calling the scummsucker scummy.
|
|
Sage tea makes sore throat to merely a wet
|
|
Groggy flemmy thing; yet Dire Wolf offers
|
|
12-page thesis on Yak semen.
|
|
Can God hear you in a Hindu Ashram?
|
|
"Yes," yells Yayo. She's 12 and SMARTER than you.
|
|
Fiesta. Laguna March 19, 1992
|
|
They say you'll be led by children.
|
|
|
|
Haiku: Zuni Moisture Dance
|
|
Mudhead Kachinas - Laura,
|
|
Yayo, HasKey Tso.
|
|
|
|
Sweatlodge. Madrid, NM
|
|
2 FAS children flying a kite.
|
|
Filthy fake fony false hair follicles
|
|
Now fact thanks to Rogaine.
|
|
Or was that Reagan??
|
|
Nancy's war-on-drugs:
|
|
Rhymes with moron thugs.
|
|
|
|
Open Mike is playing at the Chez What Cafe.
|
|
Who IS this Open Mike?
|
|
Just some honest Joe?
|
|
Stench fries and fillet of potatoes at
|
|
The Full Spoon Cafe.
|
|
|
|
And Bo Diddley's cook wears wine-red
|
|
Dingos pouring sherry in Mrs. Farthing's Chowder.
|
|
Pampa, TX. Letting go of Police Brutality -
|
|
Release, relax, relief.
|
|
2:30 a.m. Katy reads poetry for tips at the
|
|
Omaha Greyhound.
|
|
Makes 2-bucks on "Bernalilo Blues."
|
|
Mytho-philosophical street poems.
|
|
How do they make coffee in Nowata?
|
|
Strong - same as Coffeeville.
|
|
Trivia question: who's face on $5
|
|
Foodstamp??
|
|
|
|
Thomas Jefferson or Johnny Cash?
|
|
|
|
Movado watch with moon minute hand,
|
|
I straddle the corner of Florence
|
|
& Normandy contemplating cops.
|
|
A house full of cat-tails never falls;
|
|
|
|
And Medina pours Mecca a 20 oz. cup of
|
|
Mocha java.
|
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|
|
JOURNAL POEM 25
|
|
Pour you a cup of columbian in
|
|
Coffeeville, Kansas; thinking,
|
|
Now here's a town more worthy
|
|
Of that "Beantown" nickname.
|
|
|
|
Them badlands'll take your
|
|
Feet if you'll let 'em.
|
|
They call'm "El Morro."
|
|
He's taken dogs, horses,
|
|
Tiretreads & wagonwheels.
|
|
So, watch your feet.
|
|
|
|
Methodist pastor folds his feet
|
|
Under his legs, smoking the pipe
|
|
With the circle -- not preaching.
|
|
With the people -- purely
|
|
Prayerful purely fellowship.
|
|
Powerful pipe that Chanupa.
|
|
|
|
After smoking is almost always eating.
|
|
Over frybread and milkweed greens,
|
|
Zuni children teach me every swear
|
|
They know from their own language.
|
|
|
|
"OUR MISSION - YOUR FUTURE," warns
|
|
Fort Leavenworth's front sign.
|
|
Barely legible 'neath all those
|
|
Wirebarbs. Hmmm, I think. Telling...
|
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|
JOURNAL POEM 26
|
|
|
|
Rosebud in July.
|
|
Singing for the medicine man.
|
|
Said it made his heart smile.
|
|
Helped him think of other things.
|
|
All the doctors know about is
|
|
Transfusions and sharp stuff.
|
|
Oh, and pharmaceutical
|
|
Petroleum product pills too.
|
|
Omaha medicine man plays my
|
|
Guitar and makes it sing.
|
|
Had a guitar, but gave it away
|
|
Said to a young guy who needed
|
|
It more: he's just beginning.
|
|
Nice sitting back hearing my
|
|
Guitar playing someone else.
|
|
|
|
Black bean burrito at Red Herring
|
|
Coffeehouse Champaign, Illinois.
|
|
Black squirrel sits in front of
|
|
Old Mother Hubbard's Cupboard
|
|
And Liquor Cabinet; eating her
|
|
Out of house and home.
|
|
A black and white dog
|
|
Pee-ing on your car-tire
|
|
Is a Creator sent clown.
|
|
Just say "Thank you."
|
|
|
|
Black and yellow banana with
|
|
Cuba sticker on Santee rez.
|
|
Winnebego PowWow. 15 year old
|
|
AT Red Cross booth oggles Smiles-
|
|
A-Lot from "Dances With Wolves."
|
|
I talk him into autographing her
|
|
One dollar bill. Visiting her,
|
|
Almost causes her a coronary.
|
|
Bet he breaks a lot of hearts:
|
|
Old Nathan, especially with his
|
|
Big Lakota smile.
|
|
Sing to a red-winged black bird-
|
|
He'll follow from Dakota to Ohio.
|
|
|
|
Guthrie, IA - Much
|
|
Different from Guthrie, OK.
|
|
(How?
|
|
See for your self.)
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
JP #27. by marco
|
|
|
|
1992 In The Year Of Our
|
|
Kristoffer K. Kolumbus.
|
|
Dupont Circle, Washington DC.
|
|
Buying, selling, trading guitar licks.
|
|
Nutty Buddy bar, banana and
|
|
Milk is a late night snack.
|
|
Passed out in a whirlpool.
|
|
Driving into suburbia in a Subaru.
|
|
Billy Crystal gets a laugh and a
|
|
Cry at the same time, Clown-genius he;
|
|
Like sea salt. So delightful.
|
|
Washington DC. District of Chinatown.
|
|
Hard Rock Cafe has no herbal teas.
|
|
Camcorders are rude; here - lemme suck
|
|
The whole world into my own eyeball.
|
|
Alcohol-free vegan restaurant, activist
|
|
Leaning - called the "Sober Black Indian,"
|
|
Buddhist nun makes salted plum tea; best
|
|
PLUMbing cleaner in the hole wide world.
|
|
& Navajo tea with a spoon of honey.
|
|
Sal de mer, that sea salt. Mui delicioso.
|
|
D.C. Capitol steps District of Collusion.
|
|
Meeting Dan Quayle's page, petting his
|
|
K-9 Unit MP dog. Tasked everywhere he goes.
|
|
His buddy - so no one beats him up.
|
|
Wild - wilding. District of Complicity.
|
|
1992 In The Year Of Our Knights of Kolumbus.
|
|
Rowhouse First and Florida; First & P. Wash. DC.
|
|
Tell me the difference between
|
|
Hot-tub, whirlpool and jacuzzi.
|
|
Chopping wood for sweatlodge.
|
|
Waterman, doorman, drum man, medicine.
|
|
Toxins clean: better meds than laughter.
|
|
National Cathedral, Washington DC.
|
|
Cosmic Conversations: Garden of Sweetgrass.
|
|
A poem about people who wear purple;
|
|
The Paternal order of Poorly Planned
|
|
Pious E-Piscopal Presentations.
|
|
Well, this IS Turtle Island's ass end.
|
|
Yeah, right front foot - walla walla, WA
|
|
Left front paw - sunny southern cali-farm-ya
|
|
Right rear?? Kenny BushPort, Maine.
|
|
Left rear foot divides Miami? Cuba?
|
|
& Turtle takes another big tinkle on
|
|
District of Kolumbus.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
JOURNAL POEM 28
|
|
|
|
Can something taste brown?
|
|
Or does "Obla Di, Obla Da"
|
|
Just mean life goes on?
|
|
Some guitarist once told me
|
|
"Silence is a part of music."
|
|
|
|
|
|
Ate Mississippi Mud ice cream &
|
|
Hot Cocoa awaiting sugar buzz.
|
|
You mean a Boston creme pie
|
|
Donut is NOT health food???
|
|
Midnite trucker's special: Coffee,
|
|
Pancakes, scrambled eggs, homefries,
|
|
Price? All-U-Can-Eat, for just 3.99
|
|
"Scallops aren't animals," asks
|
|
The clueless waitress, "are they?"
|
|
What's Guatema doing with ESSO
|
|
Stations all over it?
|
|
How many babies in strollers
|
|
Parked on front porches 2nite?
|
|
Abandoned - left 2 chance.
|
|
Saturday, November 7, 1992. 8pm.
|
|
I counted one here -
|
|
Fuel of the revolution.
|
|
|
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|
|
JOURNAL POEM 29
|
|
|
|
Eggrolls - like crispy cooked coleslaw pizzas.
|
|
1950's nunnery - like army boot camp for women.
|
|
"Earthquakes are allergic reactions to
|
|
Condominiums," says Robin Williams
|
|
On TV's Mork and Mindy show. Laughing,
|
|
I purchase "A Cultural Study of America,
|
|
1993," by Frank Lee at ArtRock Bookseller
|
|
in Denver. Was a blank book.
|
|
|
|
Cantata with midi music -
|
|
Like kareoke-4-Christ.
|
|
Movement of the mall?
|
|
Cooking canned cactus;
|
|
Comedians R 2 meta4ical 2day.
|
|
|
|
Where's rodeo clown college;
|
|
Or can I just show up?
|
|
Over haddock, coleslaw and coffee
|
|
In Hartford Hojos, I read
|
|
"EXTRA THICK SHAKE: Living In
|
|
Balance In An Over-Do-It Society,"
|
|
By Mark Weisenheimer.
|
|
|
|
I'm a gonna be sweatin' and jettin'
|
|
>From this yabba dabba cuppa java.
|
|
Quakers still swim upstream musterin'
|
|
Good 'ol lonely only uncompromisingly
|
|
Opposition to war - every and each.
|
|
|
|
Will a bus transfer get me to
|
|
Woodie Guthrie's or should I eat
|
|
Ben & Jerry's ice cream instead?
|
|
|
|
Fish-&-Chips'll be cod-&-fries:
|
|
Douse with vinegar 4 remembrance.
|
|
Cedar sage sweetgrass & tobacco.
|
|
"All milk and diapers should be
|
|
Free for the taking," says
|
|
Vegan teetotaler from Atop
|
|
Pickup truck, NYC.
|
|
|
|
And Country 600 AM from Montreal plays
|
|
"Grampa," by the Judds on my shortwave.
|
|
Radio - like cabbage 4 rabbits.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
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|
|
|
|
|
JOURNAL POME 30
|
|
Quote: "I get to do something
|
|
For a living that if I
|
|
Wasn't doing it for money
|
|
I'd do it anyways." -- Lyle Lovett
|
|
|
|
Safe and warm.
|
|
Fritos and popcorn entrenched
|
|
In my couch. Nothing agrees with
|
|
Stomach more than peanut butter
|
|
And banana on toasted
|
|
Whole wheat bread.
|
|
|
|
Deli & Dawgs Diner -- would you eat there???
|
|
|
|
Violence impacted to society;
|
|
Embedded in life.
|
|
No capo, slide, fuzz pedal or
|
|
Delay - no fingerpicks or
|
|
Teleprompter, just play.
|
|
Eugene O'Neill wallops the skipper
|
|
With words and rocks the boat,
|
|
Frank Sinatra "does it [his] way"
|
|
Rooted in divine inspiration,
|
|
He claims.
|
|
Apple falls on head and
|
|
Turns lightbulb on jouncing
|
|
Thought, slurping coffee
|
|
Like a pretentious snit.
|
|
Jogging memory with a
|
|
Jarful of Jolt cola.
|
|
Orange lentils & linguini
|
|
Lodged in a sore throat.
|
|
Don't sop the heat of hot chili
|
|
With cucumber; use bread: good buffer.
|
|
|
|
Shelter Wagon is hospitality on a horse.
|
|
Running from river to river
|
|
Haven't seen hay for 30 miles:
|
|
How come I have hayfever??
|
|
|
|
Run chasing your shadow
|
|
All morning; then you can
|
|
Chase it home all afternoon.
|
|
|
|
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|
|
|
|
|
|
JOURNAL POME 31
|
|
Blue Moon 1993.
|
|
Jogging: a fall, spring
|
|
And Summer thing.
|
|
Computers are so frustrating.
|
|
Lemme quote "argh," from Charlie Brown.
|
|
Having bought mushrooms fresh
|
|
Right outa manure, my wife and
|
|
I swear no mushrooms anymore.
|
|
Smoking sage and tobacco
|
|
Keeping allergies at bay.
|
|
Awaiting my guitar in the mail.
|
|
United Way reminds me
|
|
Way too much of Amway.
|
|
|
|
Freudian schlepp- (v) to go somewhere
|
|
Not remembering why you got there.
|
|
But staying to find out anyways.
|
|
Which full moon do you like best?
|
|
Avacados to break your fast.
|
|
Almost full? Full full?
|
|
Or the waney one??
|
|
Canoe-ing under the up to the
|
|
Mystic river; drawbridge seaport.
|
|
|
|
Hanuman Temple, Taos.
|
|
Half Moon, October.
|
|
Navajo tea; looks like
|
|
Chinese twig tea.
|
|
Tastes though, of lemon-
|
|
Grass honey-covered.
|
|
|
|
Defendant enters courtroom
|
|
With bag of sage, Bible
|
|
And a notebook. Maybe
|
|
The DA has rabies.
|
|
|
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|
|
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|
|
|
JOURNAL POEM 32
|
|
by Prime Anarchist.
|
|
Harmonarchy, a house hoping
|
|
For harmonious anarchy.
|
|
Got a Christ room and everything.
|
|
Waking up I ask my wife wonderfully,
|
|
Is margarine magnetic?
|
|
If you're quiet, you can hear
|
|
The owls go to sleep.
|
|
Just a random thought
|
|
Happily hazarded.
|
|
|
|
So there we were thinking "here we
|
|
Are slapdash in an unplanned spot."
|
|
Gentrification -- a $10 word. If you
|
|
Can't afford it -- means racism.
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Will the Yucatan pope show up at the
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Vatican peninsula? Expecting him
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Is like Pope on a hope.
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2 Heyoka moons each month. Sometimes 3.
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If you own a dish you might see
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Him applying his clown white,
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Or noxeeming it off. Dare I call it
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Papal soap? Hope not -- nope.
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Diet pancakes in New Rochelle reduces
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Stresses from NYC driving.
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Half moon, heyoka -- a spiritual slap
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In the face. More fun than anything
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Pious, pompous, or pathetically
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Prudish any day.
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Fact, a clown each day makes
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For a nice clean smile.
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Even better than soap.
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JOURNAL POEM 33
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Dedication: Juan & Edgar: Father & Son.
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Nothing rhymes with viener schnitzel
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3 turtles walk gardenward out
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Of the north seeking vegetation.
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Heyoka moon wanes. 3 questions:
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Must war tear every square
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Foot of the earth?
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When will the blood stop spilling??
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Who left out Revelation to John 22:22???
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So there we were thinking,
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"Here we are."
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Direct non-violent confrontation
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Door County should make
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Cherry flavored potato chips.
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Can't taste as bad as the trees smell.
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Cinco de Mayo
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Carbon monoxide
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Deisel truck drives by
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Jogger coughs once more;
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Rain makes it smell worse
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Sick to his stomach
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May 5th - his first run.
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Washing hands and face in the lower
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Spring each morning -- a good time
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To see animal tracks.
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Surely you share this spring.
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Turn thirty really close to the
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Vernal equinox while de-icing the
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Windshield at LaGuardia airport.
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Hyssop cleans the temples.
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Mall full of beer-bellied men
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& anorexic-looking women makes for
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Feeling sick and sorry for society.
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Mecca and mime sit silently saying, "..."
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Polka Haiku:
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Learning new songs on
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Accordian, guitar, voice,
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Reworking old ones.
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Gadzookamaluga!
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Chubbs says he's waiting
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For Vatican III in 3-D.
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"So what's a soy rabbi?" I ask
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Receiving lesson about the over-
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Specializing of everything american.
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"I'm in charge of health foods,"
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He says, "herbs, anything to do with
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What's good for you -- shampoo's
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Soaps, etc."
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Oy, soy rabbi.
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Wisconsin. Like a borscht
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Without brussels sprouts.
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___________________________________________________________________
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You don't need to buy Internet access to use free Internet e-mail.
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Get completely free e-mail from Juno at http://www.juno.com/getjuno.html
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or call Juno at (800) 654-JUNO [654-5866]
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