YOUR IMAGINE NATION OR YOUR LIFE

Click on image to enlarge

In Case of Mediocrity -- Break Down

Click on image to enlarge

Waterfront Fun

Cobourg's waterfront was assaulted by outsiders last Monday afternoon. The outside agitators came from the west, an unrelenting swarm of heavy breezes silting Corktown with fine sand dredged up earlier in the year. The outside agitators also stirred up some exhilarating head-banger waves to entice local teenagers to the bottom end of Division Street.

Click on images to enlarge

Occasional waves exploded two or three stories into the air, drenching girls who perched themselves, like sweet little seagulls, on the steel railing that perimeters the pier.

There were three boys and a girl in the frothing turbulence of the water, riding the surface currents of the waves. It was a wonderful display of mental alertness and physical strength and endurance of their prime-of-life bodies. The background ambience is Danger. Risky behaviour? Of course. How else does a human being test their abilities?

The waves had a rough rhythm roughly learned by the quick-witted teens, when they were climbing the ladder, the impact and withdrawal of a single wave ripped them off the rungs and pulled them back down in to the deep. One of the boys gripped the girl's arm to ensure her safety. She successfully made it to the arms of a girlfriend.

Some times the waves would tease the teens, pushing them up as if to cast them out, but in a split moment sucked them back into an adrenalin rush. Toying with them like so much flotsam.

Finally, everyone is safe and secure, drenched in a lifetime memory. They will eventually become responsible civilians, pass through two or three decades, and recall the sheer exhilaration if this day. One older woman admonished the teens, telling them the fine details of bashed heads, lungs full of water, etc. It reminded me of the words of Irving Layton in The Whole Bloody Bird:

"It is cruel for the old to inflict their disillusioned wisdom on the young. Fortunately it is also impossible."

PARTING IS SUCH SWEET SHALLOW

PARTING IS SUCH SWEET SHALLOW

For the past half century
enjoying an unprecedented
state of peace and prosperity
I savored the muscular memory
of my signature hand
how it held
firm
moist
the curve
of your pubis
It has been
two years
since …


I am beginning to lose


my



g
r
i
?

.

.

.

Standing For Free Speech for Salman Rushdie

Click on image to enlarge

Poetry Raises The Stanza of Living

Click on image to enlarge

TO THE END OF YES

In the beginning there was the word
and the word was YES!
so I fucked her
I fucked her again
mornin’ noon & night
I fucked her
day after day
I fucked her
year in & year out
I fucked her
YES! YES! YES!
I fucked her
OUI! OUI! OUI!
I fucked her
SI! SI! SI!
I fucked her
DA! DA! DA!
I fucked her
in every tongue
from left to right in Poland
right to left in Persia
top to bottom in China
everywhichway in Klingon
I fucked her
affirmative action of the first disorder
she scented herself with YES tonight
I fucked her
in great mutual affirmation sessions
cum-sensual adults
every time she opened her legs
it was in the shape of YES
a very expletive undeleted YES.
She was YES to the very nucleus of her woman
She was my woman of want
She was my woman of want my vowels.
YES, she sucked vowels from me
Vowel-howling sound poetry
ecstasy poetry bouncing off the walls all covered in wet YES
I fucked her
YES! Aaaaaaaaaaa
I fucked her
YES! Eeeeeeeeeeee
I fucked her
YES! Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
I fucked her
YES! Oooooooooo
I fucked her
YES! Uuuuuuuuuu
I fucked her
in great gobs of gushing vowels
She loved the splatter of vowels
So I fucked her
with a mouthful of wet YES
my fundamentalist theology
exploded down her throat
To hell with the socialist sub-committee policy meeting tonight,
YES let’s fuck
To hell with lobbying for funds to feed crippled orphans
YES let’s fuck

I love how she gives good debate
turning onto her knees
to present the best part of her argument
like the good field beast she is
I’d rather plunge into the democrazy poetics of her cunt
than earn a living pro-actively in happy contrivanceland.
than a committee of global swarmers
She is my Al Gore rhythmn

And the decades go by
I fucked her
fucked her again
and again
it was all YES,
choirs of YES
chorusing down the hallways of YES.
Gospel YES, the G-spot
Soul YES Deep Soul
Classical YES Class Suckle
Rock YES & Roll YES
Decade after decade
The pension arrives
I fuck her on weekday afternoons
Sometimes right there
on the floor before the tv
in front of Oprah & Dr Phil

YES through the seasons

Then June 23, 2001
she whispered a soft italicized yes
into my better ear.
so I mounted her
and there was a breath of yes
followed by the de-conjunctiving ellipse . . .
So it was
in the end
there was the word
and the word was NO!