Monday, June 29, 2009

asexual stevedore

for jenni baker

i saw an old mexican totting a cigar
his belly a mild bulge from beer and salsa con queso

construction workers building boats in locks
in skullies and sullen brows in Essex

ignore Carmen's dance, the floral tease
who pleasures herself then cries to sleep on the weekends

their interconnected miserable desires missed out
to the bear learning tricks for the circus

Eulogy to Pa

Robert Regan, affectionatly known to me as Pa, was born on October 31st of 1934 and died on June 10th of 2009. His funeral service was held at St. Mary's in Dedham on June 26th. I read the following at his service:

Pa had a red pick up truck. When I was little. I don’t know exactly how little… when we lived in the apartments at Bahama Drive and he would come visit, I could see his red truck from my bedroom window. I’d get so excited to be the first one to see him coming I’d shout Pa’s Truck! So fast and enthusiastically that it came out of my mouth (with a Boston accent) PARK! So I called him Park for the first part of my life.

But a red pick up truck is not the icon I associate closest with my Pa. To this day, it’s a piece of ripped paper towel that always makes me think of him.

When Meaghan and I were little, Mom and Dad used to take us to Pa and Irene’s house where we’d spend the day playing bar tender at Pa’s Budweiser Emporium in the basement. The bar was fancy, done up in everything Bud from a singing can to a clydesdale clock. I remember my favorite thing to do was use his ice crusher. Meaghan and I used to sing on Irene’s microphone. We’d venture into the wilds of the unfinished half of the basement to get ice pops from the freezer. For a while, too, there was a fish tank full of colorful neons and a little frog until Pa was kind enough to adopt Meaghan’s beta fish and it ate every last living thing in the tank.

Most of all though, I remember one very brief moment clearer than anything. It was a moment where something was said that probably didn’t have the weight and meaning behind it that I associate with it today. I was trying to tear a piece of paper towel off the roll and only got most of it off. A corner hung off the roll. Pa pulled it off and handed it to me and he said “Regans always use the whole piece of paper towel.”

It didn’t mean anything. Except it means everything to me now. Pa was never the kind of person to do something in part. He always finished what he started. He always took the whole piece, the whole project. He took life whole. He loved with his whole heart. And h e fought with his whole spirit and nerve.

So now not only do I take the whole piece of paper towel, but I take on the whole of life and love. Pa taught me to live life to the fullest. To be whole. And although a little piece of life feels like it’s missing now. It really isn’t. He lived his whole life the way he wanted to, and this, this is part of life too. As hard as it is now, he’s brought us together, brought us together to remember him as a whole person who impacted the whole lives of everyone around him.

Missing him is part of the whole.

bio grog

(a pro-earth pirate mission statement)

ahar! least i be worried, yar,
of the land be gettin' smaller

for i am a beard what sails the seas
of the world from port to port

but the fishin' been sparse
since you land lubbers started

harken yer cares to the wayside
and killin' all yer animals and trees

how's a pirate to avoid gettin' scurvy
if you lubbers can't grow a lime? harhar!

so i be brewing a new grog
that'll put golden hairs on yer chest

made from all natural, organic
secret ingredients from the depths


Thursday, June 25, 2009

human cat

rowdy learned to drink water from a bottle after seeing his big bro jack do it.

now whenever anyone drinks water water from a bottle, rowdy wants some too. he's cute, but annoyingly persistant.

image by ana-maria bell

Monday, June 22, 2009

shenanigan dreams and hoopla scenes

this place is burned into my memory
so vivid, so sad, what if i am the butterfly?

i close my eyes and i see
swimming through the warm pools of my memory
the silhouette of a figurine in the corner
tinkering with lullabies
in the blue truth of bitterness

a tricky fairy plays in the drapes
she is whimsical and a little mean
dimpled and plump like a friendly fire

i know this place so well i see it
sculpted in daisies and gumdrops

but if thunder should crack
to break the seal of this fuzzy whimsy
i would wake to see dina
trying on dresses and shoes
the sequins catching the lingering light
and reflecting through an old bent mirror

you can't

i told her you can't
come up to a strange bloke
kiss him like that
then smile like that
and just walk away
like that.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

dang muttonchops

a frugal dawn approaches
the tenacious, sinking smell
of such a lemon dawn

in a pickle, what to do,
when in your dreams
you wear trousers in luxorious lam'e?

watch through lampshades

as kittens jump rope over the bones
of the failed lollipop monkeyshines
leaving acceptable twinkles.

Monday, June 15, 2009

Tony and Caroline

Tony is the DARE officer
at the local elementary school.

Caroline is a hair school teacher
and championship billiards player.

Tony breeds German shepherds, works out,
and goes deep sea fishing on the weekends.

Caroline follows the stock market and
wears lipstick and dresses to the grocery store.

Tony met Caroline during career day
in Mrs. Banner's class

at Tony's elementary school
where Caroline's niece attends the third grade.

to demonstrate her skills in front of the class
Caroline gave Tony a new hair cut.

the whole class agreed it suited him better
and that the two would make a fine pair.

to appease the hoards of children,
Tony asked Caroline on a date, and she accepted.

they went to dinner at a restaurant on the beach
and shared stories from their childhood.

dinner ended and as the sun set
Tony and Caroline held hands

walking down the beach in the orange glow
of dusk, avoiding small waves and sharp rocks.

the further they walked, the darker it got,
and the more stars they could see in the sky

until all other light disappeared
into the blue and white and yellow of the night

the stars grew bigger and brighter
and the couple felt as though they had walked for centuries

together, hand in hand, they walked
all the way into a different world

where wonder and love make the days glow longer
and the nights shine brighter

and monsters are defeated by honesty,
inner beauty and good intentions.

Tony and Caroline walked all the way
around the globe of this other world

until they made it back to the parking lot
where Tony's DARE car sat waiting

to take Caroline home where Tony left her
with a sweet good night kiss

and a promise to take her back
to that wonderful world they discovered together.

if there's a rocket tie me to it by snow patrol

Sunday, June 14, 2009

sleepy sunday afternoon


you offer condolence
all in forms of grace

and shades of roses
never before created

by nature or nurture
to hold with watery eyes

the memories of a man
so loved from afar.

Friday, June 12, 2009

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

step one

drying her hair in
a festival of teas, scented soaps
and roses
dancing between arts
avoiding the painful heart of matters

Tuesday, June 09, 2009


frank left me four pages
to share my monday night
dreams. i match his four
with tree rippened peaches
and raise the ocean as in
such a violent dream he
couldn't bare to trade.

it erupted from the colors
of sea side paintings. the
light blue of the sky
toying with the white
clouds and the dark blue
depths of the ocean capped
with that same tourmented
white. browns both faint
and strong depict the sand
and the people.

umar was packing, saying
how much the same
room had cost him. he
couldn't see the breaking
of time and the place
as i could.

waves crashing against
irrisponsible journalists
and bags filled with sand.

lights from the ferris
wheel flickered in and out
of view behind buidlings
amidst the growing fog
of this, a dark city.

the patio was lit too
perfect for the end of
the world, but i sat on
the soft cusions anyway
and watched him pack --
completely unaware of the
painting coming to life
behind him. the shinigami
crawled between us.

so this i understood,
the room was not cheap
for me either.

Monday, June 08, 2009

the people's awesome

mountain people

there is a town at the foot of the mountain
where all different kinds of people and animals live
in peace and curiosity.

the people and animals all come out of the mountain
from various lives on various worlds in various times
to live together at the foot of the mountain.

the people and animals have their memories
of previous lives and loves and losses,
and for some people it is hard to live there.

there are no myths about the mountain
only theories and questions, like do they die
when they come out of the mountain? or is that how they are born?

is life inside the mountain, inside their memories
a dream or a hoax? or is this life in this town
at the foot of the mountain, actually the dream?

inspired by: this video


exploding dog images available at
i've been reading Richard Herring's Blog lately. as a result, i too want to blog. not just poetry and youtube links, but proper blog entries like this one. okay, maybe a bit more interesting than this post, but similar pattern of introduction, interesting point, and end. maybe even a few links or pictures now and again.

unfortunately, i haven't much interesting to say. i could write on any manner of topics, but nothing is quiet as relevant as the writing i am not doing (namely, thesis). oh look, a topic! my thesis.

i hate talking about my thesis though, so this will never work!

before i settle into said thesis this afternoon, ryan is coming home for lunch (and liz is coming over too as a matter of fact). then i am off to check my schedule at the pizza joint and visit my bank. after that, it's home and focusing on thesis work for a few hours before suiting up and heading back to the pizza joint for a few solid hours of work.

i don't know how many people would be interested in a regular blogging experience here, or how many people will be put off the idea (as they're more interested in my poetry - i promise to continue to write poetry though, and perhaps even put a poem at the end of every regular post). but... i think i may give this a try either way. i think i need it right now.


the giant's foot laced up with trees
stomps through towns in the country
where little people plant crops
for the coast and sake of modern art

dear mr steven moffat,

i believe bjork should play a doctor who alien.

now, this happens to be one of my all time favorite bjork tunes, but the video exemplifies her oddities. a dress made of little bells. only in Iceland.

Thursday, June 04, 2009

the inertia

for Nicole Beaudoin

he watches carefully
as the breath of the subway
plays with her hair

forward flow at the stops
and back at the go
like an indecisive wind

light and small and purple
there's a greek goddess on the boston T
and he catches her eye, finally

the look that triggers his imagination
to wonder what greek goddesses
do after dinner parties...

Wednesday, June 03, 2009