block thrown 

course altered, 

reconsidered. 

another missile, 

another bullet, 

another arrow, 

another stone, 

another spear.

 

feeling invisible, 

feeling nothing 

can hit you.

 

George Washington, 

rode back-and-forth 

between the Indians 

and the settlers during

 the American vs.Indian war 

up in Canada .

he got a bullet bullet hole 

through his hat 

bullet holes through his coat, 

but he was unharmed --

all the wars he was in,

taking huge risks,

fighting right out front

he was never shot or injured. 

many near escapes 

and near misses--

one red coat soldier 

snuck up behind him

and could've shot him in the back, 

but it wasn't an honorable thing to do,

so he didn’t,

even though it would have

almost certainly ended the war. 

George Washington 

had something protecting him 

for the greater purpose 

of something....

Comparing him 

to the politicians 

of today is enough 

to make you crazy 

and break your heart.   

dj

 probably nothing—

like a dream. 

did it happen, or not? 

is it more real in your memory?

more real than a book you read?

or a movie you watched? 

i guess it happened, 

but when? 

in what order?  

do you think you were 

controlling the events?   

were you choosing 

your thoughts , emotions, 

and reactions? 

or did it all just happen

the way things happen 

they way things fall 

like dominoes 

the way the river flows 

or the wind blows through.  

 pigeon toed mulligan, we called him. 

obviously, because he was pigeon toed.   not like when you call some giant guy “Tiny”.   This guy was really pigeon toed.  and when he he walked his head shot forward and back so he kind of looked like a pigeon or a real messed up and mutated tyrannosaurus rex.     and, mulligan, because you could never play golf with the guy without him asking if he could have a mulligan after every bad shot.   and we always said no.  so why he kept asking, who knows?   anyway. pigeon toed mulligan turned out to be a hero when he ran into a burning orphanage and saved every kid and teacher in there.   they were all sound asleep.   some kid was sneaking a smoke late at nite and passed out in bed and the place went to blazes in seconds.   pigeon was just coming back from the pool hall and saw the fire and ran in and saved them all.     he was famous after that.   but no one ever thought of a better name for him.  even he couldn’t remember his actual real name, or was happier to forget it.  he said pigeons were clever and resourceful and loved life in the city.    but, after becoming a hero, for some reason, he never asked for another mulligan.  

name of the falcon 

inspires mystery.  

races the blood. 

shortens the breath. 

quickens the pace 

sharpens the eyes  

sharpens the talons 

dives from the sky 

like a holy angel.  

name of the whale 

plunges to the depths  

swells the seas 

rides the waves 

sings a song 

dances a waltz 

in slow motion 

wonderment 

almost awkward 

in its beauty 

and grace. 

name of the lion 

swells the chest 

lifts the head 

questions sanity 

weighs delusion 

looks across 

the vast mirage 

of heat 

for evidence 

of being  .  

 

gypsy sorrow 

forget tomorrow 

it’s a memory soon too forget 

no regrets 

like yesterday 

my last cigarette 

i requested standing in front 

of the firing squad firing up my zippo one last time 

and ripping my blindfold off 

defiantly fascinated by early morning sun teasing edges of leaves and flowers 

a lapis lazuli butterfly patiently flapping its wings 

in slow motion calmly counting 

to eternity 

i inhaled the smoke deep as i could 

blew a few smoke rings 

took another deep drag fast as i could so hungry 

for the hit 

and the nicotine shiver 

i was hoping 

i was 

that zen master dreaming 

he was a butterfly or was a butterfly dreaming 

he was a zen master smoking a cigarette in front of the firing squad whispering 

a prayer to Dostoevsky.

 Watch this spot it keeps changing 

stare deeply deeply you see it swirl

 it fascinates mesmerizes is it is full of questions 

it whispers answers you can't quite hear 

listen closer     stare deeper 

Time dissolves 

no longer linear 

you could be anywhere you are everywhere 

you are everyone you are nobody 

you are everything listening to some other language 

you feel the words without knowing what they mean 

you're in the garden watching a caterpillar become a butterfly 

it starts raining 

you are the water

 

fools are blue

but so is the sunset

drunken fools

setting themselves on fire

down by the river

where they are easily doused

they burn like the moon

they've got a long way to go 

drunken fools

blue as the blue lagoon

no place to go 

down by the river

they try becoming trolls

but there's no money in it

they are crazy

they are gambling with their bones

down by the river

setting themselves

on fire.

(1982) 

(austin)