Category Archives: Uncategorized

little boys


little boys are really super heroes

in disguise

they soar through the heavens

with the greatest of ease

lightning springs from their fingers

whenever bullies come near

and they can lift up the car

to change a tire, with just their little pinky

little boys have secret lairs

and secret identities

until the sun sinks low in streaks of orange and red

and it’s time to go home

their playtime at an end

The Female Way


The female way escapes your attention

while you are checking me out

You think you impress

But I must confess

You leave me hanging

Without a clue

What to do about you

But my female way will find a way

To work out the kinks and have you purring like a kitten

You don’t have a prayer without that

For you I remain a puzzle

The female way bemuses and bedazzles

You can’t do without it

So you can stop your stupid dancing and shouting

I won’t go away

So jerk all day

The female way is so much better

and better and better

Oh God!


I once knew a man


I once knew a man

who dabbled in the occult

he stepped on a wire

and died in a fire

I once knew a man

who would quicken his pace

before another thought could escape

I once knew a man

whose face was a puzzle

his life a disgrace

he woke up one morning

and his body was bleeding

no one to blame

no one to chase

I once knew a man

his name wasn’t Charlie

but it should have been

He would stand beside me for hours

With a goofy smile on his face

I once knew a man

that wrestled and yelled out in pain

as the wind twisted his clothes

and he was pelted without mercy

by the rain

Have you felt the wobbly men?


So have you felt the wobbly men?

Bouncing around the back of your brain

Taking pictures

Leaving trash behind

and building fires

Leaving you with the worst kind of headache

And the probing can drive you insane

They want to help you live your life

In a more responsible way

They say

But they are nothing but a nuisance

I wish they would just go back from where they came

These wobbly gobbly men with no chin

You sit at your desk with a head full of rubber

You dot every i, cross every t

Like some hideous machine

Another sad victim of the wobbly men

They say they want to live, they say they want to be

They say a lot of things that aren’t very smart

They got chewing gum for brains

They found a way in one day

I think it was 1953

And although the party has long been over

These wobbly men refuse to leave


Friday 13


Friday 13 don’t scare me

With it’s phony teeth

and it’s monkey suit

I ride the crest of a silliness

That has lasted all my life

So Friday 13 can come and go

It makes no difference to me

I got my nerve and will never learn

To fear what I cannot see

Friday 13 don’t scare me

I’m not a victim of circumstance

The roll of the dice don’t determine my life

Or keep me up at night

I laugh at the monster in the closet

and the boogie man under the bed

What if they held an election and nobody voted?


What if they held an election and nobody voted?

And nobody went to work?

What if the gangs stopped killing each other?

What if everyone lost their smirk?

What if Jesus returned and nobody cared?

What if everything were shared?

What if Madonna stopped touring

and meth were a thing of the past?

What then? I ask

Would the birds stop their singing?

Would the phones stop ringing?

Would people stop lying?

Would babies stop their crying?

Would I finally give up my act?

If the server went down

You couldn’t get to town

Blank screens throughout the internet

Emptiness filling the streets

What then? I ask

Would we be afraid?

Would we have a parade?

Would it piss us off?

Or would we just take off our clothes

and relax?

Somebody Told Me


Somebody told me I should just keep quiet

Pull my socks up and lose my blues magoos

There is no use in upsetting the apple cart

There is nothing anyone can do

Somebody told me to just chill out

Follow the instructions and try not to shout

Go about my business with a smile

Somebody told me I should watch my step

I reveal too much and I tend to insult

I better watch my health

Somebody told me to take long walks

and enjoy the sunny weather

Nobody needs to know about those things

Which haunt your tiki hut

Somebody told me to tuck in my shirt

You better get to work

I do so well, I’m well respected

Keep it up though and you’ll be rejected

Somebody said

My Life in HD


The view toward Alcatraz as I can see it today. In fact this photo isn't as detailed as my present vision.

I never thought that a simple trip to Safeway could be so enjoyable! I could see every detail of every automobile, every sign, every person, stood out in vivid detail. This was my life in HD. All because of a simple lens inserted into my eye, and the removal of those pesky cataracts which had given me a blurry existence for several years. Those cataracts very likely cost me my job, and this time around I had no intention of allowing them to cost me another job. As I type this on a very white screen, I see ‘floaters’, little scraps of eye-stuff floating around inside my eye. They were there before the surgery, and there doesn’t seem to be more of them, so I am not very worried. Also my retina got checked out yesterday and it looked fine. Still, floaters make me nervous. The white screen makes them very visible. But back to the good news!!! I can see at a distance with almost perfect clarity. I can return to my walks throughout San Francisco, enjoying the scenery and the buildings, like I used to do! In fact, I can see better than at any other time in my life. My vision without glasses, as far as distant vision is concerned, is better than when I had glasses and hadn’t yet developed cataracts. I call it HD, high definition, vision, because it reminds me of the way HD television is overwhelming at first, providing the brain with too much detail.

I am primarily a visual person. I enjoy music and the sounds of nature and even the urban cacophony doesn’t bother me. But the look of things, the architecture, the beautiful women, the lovely landscape, the ocean. I relish everything I see. It was a profound disappointment not to be able to see clearly. It made me inward, more serious, and a bit depressed. Now, I am having to deal with some delicate adjustments associated with the healing process, but I am also thrilled with my new found cornucopia of visual delights. I want to check out everything! Go back out to Alcatraz, take a stroll through Pacific Heights and ogle the mansions, and just take in everyday things in a new way.

I am reminded of how delicate we are as physical beings. A simple blow to the head could cause my retina to detach, leading to almost instant blindness. My heart is dependent upon the stints in my primary artery to the heart. I depend on medications to regulate my blood pressure and cholesterol. We are fragile beings. I do try to be careful, but at the same time, you have to live your life. I can’t just hunker down and live my life in fear of mishap. Life is risk, as I coldly advised myself before this surgery. You have to deal with it, whatever cards are dealt. Someday I will face other health crises, and someday my physical journey will reach it’s end. I will cope as best I can. I am adjusting to my new situation, the inconveniences and worries that accompany the healing process, and the thrill of having my sight restored. With each thing that happens, adjustments occur, even after death. With each adjustment there is fear, uncertainty, a deep dark chasm of the unknown. We each enter this place by ourselves. We can do so courageously or kicking and screaming the whole way. Either choice is a learning process.


Compare this post to this past one: MY LIFE IN 2-D

looking towards alcatraz, as I see it.

I had a good morning. I paid off my rent, thanks to the help of friends, one of which I ran into as I stood in line at Wells Fargo.  She looked cute in her stylish hat. It is nice to have friends.

But enough sunshine and daisies, I had wanted to bitch on this post so here goes. I love San Francisco. I came here partly because of it’s unique beauty, and now I can’t really see it! My vision is shot to hell. I don’t care if prospective employers see this, they would figure it out soon enough. I can still do a job. I’ve learned how to compensate. I am still a wise investment. I’ve got a brain and I know how…..Ok Ok!! I’ll stop trying to sell myself. But, anyhow, as I walked down Polk St. to the bay, checking for help wanted signs, and other places where I might work, I was unable to enjoy the city I love. No more 3-D. My life is now in 2-D. Not literally of course, but that is how it feels. Out of focus, with a bit of double vision. I gaze out on the bay at fuzzy dots. Are those boats? It is more than enough to make a cheerful guy like me pretty grumpy.

My life is flat and dull. I don’t have all those sharp edges anymore. It isn’t just because of the cataracts. My brain is dull as well. I have come to accept a lot of things that used to drive me up the wall, or leave me in a deep depression. I thought I would never get used to losing my sight in my left eye. But I did. I accepted that fifty percent of life would be shrouded in darkness. I simply lived my life to the right. There is no left as far as I am concerned. (and I think the same is true of Barack Obama). Unfortunately, when I first began living my life on the right, I was still driving. I almost side swiped another car on the interstate. I was unbelievably close! The other guy’s eyes were so wide! Scared the shit out of me! That guy was living his life on the right and left. So I gave up driving. Once in a while I accidentally ran into somebody. I mean, I literally ran into them. They look at me like I am a total jerk, and it usually doesn’t do any good to explain. I was in the wrong. Even though my left is in darkness, it is still there, and I have to take it into consideration.

The uncertainty and fear I feel could be considered a part of that dark left side of my life. Rather than let it lie in darkness I need to bring it over to the right, so it doesn’t just fester, grow mold and poison me. Awful things can happen in the dark.

So even though I live in a 2-D world, it could be worse. How about 0-D? So I carry on. At some point I will likely get an operation to remove my cataracts, even though I risk total blindness. Seeing well was an important part of my life. I want it to be again. Otherwise all those beautiful sights in San Francisco are going to waste!!



  It may come as a surprise to some readers that our infatuation with the female nude photograph predates Playboy by two  decades. In fact I can think of two sexual trailblazers from the 1920’s, Louise Brooks and Josephine Baker. To pose completely nude for a photograph was considered more of an artistic endeavor in those days, and this is the spirit in which both Brooks and Baker approach it. Louise Brooks (to the left) strikes a pose which could be found in innumerable art deco sculptures. I have written before of Louise Brooks as an actress, but it is not as commonly known that she was showing her pubic hair long before Betty Page. I would say that Louise is very much the siren of the sexual revolution in her feminism before feminism existed. Of course I cannot be certain of her motives in posing for these photographs. Perhaps she needed money, but I would like to think she was striking a blow for female freedom. Her body isn’t an airbrushed sex doll, but rather a real body, like you would find in real life. I find this to be much more erotic than a nude body commercialized into a commodity.

However, Louise Brooks was not alone. Besides many lesser known models, the twenties and thirties had another sexual pioneer, Josephine Baker. Josephine projects an innocent vulnerability, and I admit to mixed feelings about her nudity. At that time African-Americans were often considered subhuman by white culture. I wonder if Josephine, particularly in her banana dance, articulates the racist jungle girl fantasies of a white audience. Even if that is so, and I suspect it is, Josephine Baker exuded a sensuality which still resonates today. She seems comfortable in her own body, projecting an unashamed innocent sexuality.

I suspect these photos provided quite a thrill for many young men, who could not believe what they were seeing. Unlike today, when the internet is inundated with nudity, in those times the sight of a pubis was undoubtedly very exciting. It is possible that Hugh Hefner may have been one of those young men, longing for a time when he could take such pictures.

For Louise Brooks and Josephine Baker, to be nude was to be honest, to be real, to be themselves stripped of all pretensions. At least, that is what I would prefer to believe.