the magical


we can do that

but that doing

is not all

it is cracked up to be

for if & when

you do the magical

there is always a push back

a reaction of pull

karma is a force


the craft is more

a helping the river

lifting a pebble in the way

assisting the flow

anything else

interrupts the force

as above

so below

you talk to people

she says

you fit in

with all sorts

of people

create changes

in your words

modality cadence timing

accent dialect

& I don’t know

who you are anymore

I ask

am I kind to you



but she needs answers

wants more

tho’ I have nothing more

to give

& then it hits

she wants less

much less


somebody small



to fit in her pocket

her own little world

hank williams

hank one

was singing out

into the night

& she reached over

to change the station

I said c’mon honey

you know the rules

driver chooses the music

shotgun sits & listens

counts down the miles

she changed it anyway

gave me such a sweet smile

so I switched again

found hank 3 singing

about pills & divorces

which only brought a scowl

we were surely heading

straight to hell

unwanted few

it was work

digging fetching carrying

but I was young

no matter what they pushed me to

I did it

I could see them hear them plotting

but I would not could not tap out

you want this moved where?

& back to there?

yeah ok I can do that

& off I’d go

sweating in the sun

their idea was to find my break point

the place where I’d give in give up out

& I didn’t want to allow them

any satisfaction

I’d meet these bully boys every day

in schools churches streets police stations

they thought they had the secret code

knowing some kids you could fuck with

twist hurt & nobody would give a damn

while our secret was to endure

wait for them to get bored move on

find easier meat

& sure enough the boss man came over

you finished fucking this fella around?

he set them straight gave them

the hard work to do


gets harder to come

old fella sat in the corner

shiny dinner jacket on

we’re all sat at the bar

nursing the first one

long night to come

ok says the barkeep

set up in the corner

let’s hear your songs

& he starts out all thin vibrato

settling in to make most notes

hum the lyrics here & there

the backing track set on low

& we’re listening loose

give the man an audience

respect to the working man

after a couple of yesteryear hits

a round or two polite applause

the barkeep sighs says that’s ok

we’ll call you in a couple

if we need you come in & sing

you need anything? drink?

the old fella says needs a taxi

take him & his speaker kit home

takes the long slow walk past us

head held high he’d done

what he set out to do & now

he need pay us no mind

he was the act

the star

we were the nevermind

don’t make it me

I was listening

wishing I could record

play back her words

because though I might be

she wasn’t

hearing herself

at all

these ongoing issues

problems with her man

& him being with another

feeling dis empowered

while I was opening up

different opportunities

reflecting back her thoughts

but being in the hole

she was unable to see

any way out

as I said the great phrase

if you have to make a choice

between me & another

please don’t make it be me

I just don’t get that

I just don’t understand

mebbe its time I said

to just sit with the thought

for a little while

until something appears

no warmth


had it just about right

my mother would flit in

out of my life

appear & disappear

leaving me standing

watching her back

vanish into the crowd

tell me she loved me

then be gone

my only evidence of her

for many years

were the holes

made by her high heels

into a fresh asphalt path

I’d see these every day

on my way to school

wondering if & when

I might see her again

leaving nothing

no warmth

nothing at all

but emptiness


I’d got giddy on her

be all hugging trees

picnicking the deep woods

sitting in night silence

stalking spirit worlds

working to be ancient

a better vision person

wafting sage willy nilly

when all I wanted

was to be with

between her thighs

inside up close

holding on to her smell

smiles laughter love

as she wanted me

to be this other

wiser more spiritual

less lusty being

it was all a matter

who woke broke

blinked first

as a rural bus

northwest coast

watching the floatplanes

take off & land

Seattle then Vancouver

& the natives at a loss

to why we were interested

for them these are a taxi

commonplace as a rural bus

& they could never know

of Richard our friend

the pilot dying

on his way to fix his plane

killed by a late-night bus

hidden in the fog

two lane middle of nowhere

before he could live his dream

of flying floatplanes here

out into the bush