one giant step backwards

first classes on the new computer system are behind us. Talk about a step into the past ... the thing was created when DOS ruled and only has been updated on an irregular basis. No mouse, no icons. it's all "F" keys, tab and arrow around the different screens.... oh, it's certainly not going to help speed things in shipping up anywhere. I am certain the usage on the paper machine (which is much less than in shipping) is going to be loads of fun as well. 3 more classes (4 hours each) before we go "live" with the beast.

Cooler the past few days. Summer seems to have wound down. Fall is coming, but not here yet. i expect at least another blast or two of Summer trying to survive. The rains of the past few days are gone. Just clouds. Need to get on the roof and Moss-B-Ware it for the winter. But starting night shift tonight, so it'll have to wait for a week or so, at least.

today's poem is from 12:97. Written for a friend in Singapore, when we still had occasional letters exchanged.


GIVING THE VOICE SANCTUARY
-for siti

as god pouts - rain.
rain. rain.
mascara runs down
your cheeks, some would
mistake as tears.

my voice is a stutter,
as the wind
through awkward fingers
of old & deformed trees.

carve your dreams
in the bark, if you will.
the wind will exchange them.
somehow i will know -
even across oceans, continents.

as god farts - thunder.
thunder. thunder.
the uncertainty of your laughter
is an unreturned echo.
but i have heard
& attempted to give the voice sanctuary.

roll my bones
against the fates.
there are no odds
when dreams are involved.
eternity is a concept worth violation
in the vernacular of dreamers.

Mt. St. Helens visit

Vacation ended far too soon, But did get up to see Mt. St. Helens. Quite Impressive. 30 years after the eruption, you can still see signs of the devastation. Got to get within 5 miles of the mountain, windy as hell, but steam still rising out of the hole in the north side of the mountain. Quite a long day, but well worth it.
back to work now. Changes coming, none of which are good. crew changes, computer program changes, different way to tally and load trailers and railcars. Oh swell!!!!

todays poem was written in 12:93, published in the wonderful Inevitibality Press in July 1995, an on-line magazine created and run by Roger Evers. Inevitabilty Press is no longer active, as Roger has taken his magnificent creative efforts into DVD creations and plays (in the Theatre of the Absurd mold, my favorite form!!) in the past couple of years. Oh yes, Bless The Void, Brother!


THE POLICEMAN ASKED

the policeman asked if i had a match. i shook my head no. his eyes studied me as if i were charles manson reincarnate, but said nothing as i walked away. deliverance was not salvation. rain spotted my glasses & my ulcer spoke in short but terse sentences.

two hookers on the street corner - watching their reflection in shop windows- make eyes at manikins. they ignore me as i limp by, the ghost of discarded dreams, hardly a vision worth attainment.

in the mail, the editor of onthebus writes i am a blasphemy, a degredation. i look at my hands, gnarled & red from a frozen wind offering no wisdom. i see his point. unfortunately, i find no razors, no poisons. i am forced to live another tortured day. i find a stamp, a soiled envelop & write a few curses to tell him so.