Index Ginsberg quote ………………………………...…………………………………………………………………...….. Title poem Diet of a Madman ………………………..…………………………………………………………. Index ...…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………...….. Index ……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….…. Cats …………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………... There will come a time ………………………………………………………………………………………………. Ravens in Colorado ……………………………………………………………………………………………………. White tail deer fly …………………………………………………………………………………………………….. God waits ………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….. Change …………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….. The end …………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….. Some of the best ………………………………………………………………………………………………………. Autumn eulogy …………………………………………………………………………………………………………. Decades ago ……………………………………………………………………………………………………………... Lakefront lights …………………………………………………………………………………………………………. Twins ………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………... Complied poetry ……………………………………………………………………………………………………….. Autumn & the big sleep to come ………………………………………………………………………….…… Three unrelated thoughts about snow ……………………………………………………………………… 75 ties ………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………. Ukraine famine 1933 ………………………………………………………………………………………………... Cicadas in July ………………………………………………………………………………………………………….. The face of God I recognize ……………………………………………………………………………………... Sweet rain at long last ……………………………………………………………………………………………... October moon …………………………………………………………………………………………………………… Celebration ……………………………………………………………………………………………………………... Small town ……………………………………………………………………………………………………………….. ………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….. Home from Dayton after a long day …………………………………………………………………………. Veil of tears, wall of mirrors …………………………………………………………………………………….. If chainsaws were good medicine …………………………………………………………………………….. Late ………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….. She ……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………. Come out to play ……………………………………………………………………………………………………... Metaphor …………………………………………………………………………………………………………………. Haiku ……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….. Creating order (part 1) …………………………………………………………………………………………….. Creating order (part 2) …………………………………………………………………………………………….. Train of thought ………………………………………………………………………………………………………. Empathy …………………………………………………………………………………………………………………... Roadkill …………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….. Lost child ………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….. He left for good this time ………………………………………………………………………………………….. The horse …………………………………………………………………………………………………………………. 2
2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45
Index
Index
Roadside after icestorm ………….……………………………………………………………………………... City child ………………………………………………………………………………………………………………… Harvest moon rises ………………………………………………………………………………………………... Snowfall 11/30/74 …………………………………………………………………………………………………. Anything but ..……………………………………………………………………………………………………….. Death’s prairie ……………………………………………………………………………………………………….. Fish out of water ……………………………………………………………………………………………………. ………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………... Winter fog ……………………………………………………………………………………………………………... Inheritance …………………………………………………………………………………………………………….. The flock ……………………………………………………………………………………………………………….. Wash day Ossuarium (the dream) …………………………………………………………………………………………. Drunk again prairie schooner ………………………………………………………………………………... Sad old place …………………………………………………………………………………………………………. Bright leaves have fallen ……………………………………………………………………………………….. My attic retreat …………………………………………………………………………………………………….. Vision …………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….. Depression …………………………………………………………………………………………………………….. Ending ……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………. Hotel lobby ballerina ……………………………………………………………………………………………... Walk to be alone …………………………………………………………………………………………………... Michigan backroads ………………………………………………………………………………………………. Groaning combine squats ……………………………………………………………………………………... A shadow late in the day ……………………………………………………………………………………….. ……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….. ……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….. ……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….. Homeless ………………………………………………………………………………………………………………. ………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………... The drive home ……………………………………………………………………………………………………... Advent of winter ……………………………………………………………………………………………………. Anhedonia …………………………………………………………………………………………………………….. Religion …………………………………………………………………………………………………………………… Clarice ……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………. Back through North Star ………………………………………………………………………………………... Ludlow falls ……………………………………………………………………………………………………………. ………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………... Balloon afternoon ………………………………………………………………………………………………….. Raindance ………………………………………………………………………………………………………………. Flashback ………..…………………………………………………………………………………………………….. Moth ………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
3
46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked, dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of the night. —Alan Ginsberg from Howl 1956
Forward The whole reason for this collection, and for poetry in general, is to use a word image rather than digital photography (which has been the go-to medium of visual communication for me). I hope to develop an indelible Polaroid in your head (pun intended); one that is completely of your own making, rather than the coaching of your brain with a graphic image. Poetry should be able to do this, as it has done, for as long a men and women have put their dreams to rock, parchment, 20lb bond or word processor. Thank you for travelling with me. — Rev. Sean 4
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Diet of a madman Gin And Promises
Originally published in Broadside 1986 5
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Cats Sit Unblinking Unperturbed as Egyptian Statuary Whiskers are Thin quick Brushstrokes In white Light ‌ On most Afternoons From The front Window Passersby Will notice A Sphinx Smiling Back in Stone: Unperturbed as Egyptian Statuary.
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Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
There will come a time When? When it is my time; and I will not be that surprised Because I have known for some Time; we all know. It is not only inevitable But to be anticipated with joy ... yes, joy! Time is not foe, not friend, but gift; Not because I tell myself this But because I was told this. I know this. Yes, my body will cry out But my soul will have no secrets; Sin will be erased & The chalk board of my life, finally wiped Pristine and green, will be Forever unblemished, To be broken one last time Placed alongside Tablet pieces, And other sacred things, In the Holy of Holies. Of course ... We know that no one knows the time (the Hour and the day, etc.) but the Father. And who really wants to know; Who? 7
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Ravens in Colorado Peck at the hood Grille and windshield Of a black Mercedes As though deposing a rival. We honk to dismiss, To make them Scatter But no response, not a glance, Just an homage to Poe: Peck Peck Knock Knock At the Diamler parlor door; The dull metallic Scritching and scratching Of beak and claw Defacing paint and chrome.
8
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
White tail deer fly Over backroad fencing while Meadows sleep like children.
9
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
God waits long for me Patiently on the corner Of my next decision.
10
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Change What cannot actually be seen As it unfolds … The drying of a butterfly’s wing In the morning sun Or The hand of God As He cups a broken heart.
11
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
The end Bad things will continue to happen: The land will shrivel on our watch Eve will be reborn without a womb The Serpent will stand tall for a time Regaining his slippery gift of gab; He will ring the closing bell on Wall Street Waxing poetic about hedging on apple futures, And yes, we will take another Bite ‌ a much bigger bite this time.
12
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Some of the best Days Are overcast days melancholy To the causal observer But peaceful in their neutrality and solitude To those of us with an ascetic's heart . We seek out the hidden places Warm to the touch Where offering and plate come Together as one gift, one meal; Where oolong tea and November clouds Give way to Lawns covered in deep brown decay, Clogged sewers, relentless north winds & dead batteries. And then there are those places, with dens deep and dark Where the snow is deeper and the ice thicker Winter longer (two can get warm but one cannot). And then at daybreak Women emerge one by one On the first blue sky day of spring Pregnant and full of choices.
Originally published in Rambunctious Review 1998 13
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Autumn eulogy Burning pine Hangs sweet and dense Above meadows, and in the hollows Like incense ... Levitating just above the rain-bent corn It is the smell of well-being, The providence of hard work.
14
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Decades ago Leaves fall through The metallic chill Of long October nights Passing second story Porches Silent as goose-down; Silky black cats Disappear In the endless shadows They cast.
Originally published in THE WIRE 1989 15
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Lakefront lights Waxy pink Clamshells Cup Cultured Electric pearls; Necklace of Slick Dimestore Paste Dangling clicking Like dentures Between Twilight’s blazing Fabric And midnight’s Deep satin Cleavage: Satellite warriors Wage war against the Night Piercing the darkness again & again Releasing our souls To the wind.
Originally published in Riverrun 1988 16
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Twins When she died You were only hours old Too young to understand Or so they assumed. As it was You lived Only half a life Killing yourself Ten times faster than the Reaper Could ever hope to: Day by day Cigarette by cigarette Pill by pill Not believing you deserved to live Not having the hope Of salvation No saving grace Unable to end it quickly enough Unaware (or so they said) That death Grew Inside you Like a twin.
Originally published in Rambunctious Review 1993 17
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Compiled Poetry I don’t sleep much Rolling over and over Bones in the sheets Ghosts with sharp edges They wake me; Seeds in the rye are Bitter but necessary; Things that use to cure Now make me sick; My head is in the heavens Feet held to the fire My legs melt in the black flames That encase them like Diabolical trousers; Each shovel-full of anxiety Fills the hole in my soul with Dirt that buries The angel sent to protect me; Swimming in the darkness With tired friends Only assures you and me of drowning Together.
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Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Autumn & the big sleep to come The Honey-pink liquid heat of summer, Cupped like a reservoir of Forever possibilities, Overflows the white-gloved hands Of the young. Agitated bees return to each Shriveling pool of clover Afraid in the way only bees are afraid That the emerald green oasis they are mining May be the last, May only be a mirage. They work feverishly, making a beeline Dipping Swaying Intoxicated With Indian summer Preparing for the big sleep, Preparing ...
19
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
3 Unrelated thoughts about snow In the crisp distance Between an opal sun & glistening black fields The ephemeral ghosts of winter Rise up against a cobalt sky Carried off by maverick thermals On galloping steeds of gold. Sheets of wooly snow Slip down the hoods Of cars left out Overnight Like lard Off the griddle At a Westside Bar & grille. Daffodils and narcissus Blossom like young women In their slat of afternoon sun ‌ Patches of immaculate snow Lie undefiled In the shadows.
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Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
75 ties Collecting ties With compulsive zeal From Sears The Salvation Army Thrift shops K-mart A retired preacher: He especially cherished the Sleek maroon 100% Italian silk That caressed His un-collared neck Like a perverse knotted serpent, So it was really No surprise When his ex-wife discovered Him gently swaying From a hot water pipe In the basement Of her townhouse Eyes upturned Open weirdly wide Straining to watch His beloved pet, A forever smirk Pulled tautly across his purple face. Originally published in Explorations 1988 21
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Ukraine famine 1933 Shriveled bodies Stacked Cordwood Knotholes Cosmic windows The soul stares Blindly Unblinking pathos Thick snow Blanket Numbing cold Frozen tears Blue skin sags Rats grow Bold.
Originally published in the G.W. REVIEW 1987 22
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Cicadas in July They sing little girls to sleep First in maple trees overhead Then in pines across the street; Like a tattoo The sharp staccato Eventually Becomes a purring, a cadence A numbing peace That hypnotizes, lulls & Wakes the moon Ushering twilight into the wings Of birds gathering, flocks To roost, and to silence ... Another Ohio summer Is finally on the wane.
23
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
The face of God I recognize The Dark-eyed Emmanuel. I know this face Without seeing Having once spotted it Eyes closed tight At the end of the universe. This was my grade school attempt To know the unknowable Having glimpsed divine mystery In the gentle doomed face Of John Matthews. Oh, Lamb of God White as the overspray Of a million Constellations, Your life blood Courses without fail Through rock Flesh & the olive tree, Your Spirit is The Hero With a thousand Faces.
24
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Sweet rain at long last Comes in the heat of the day ‌ Dust fires sputter and die.
25
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
October Moon Diana Spreads her Gown Except In the shadows Where frost Is Black Sparkling lace Distant lightning Claws At the horizon Crackling Like Broken bone Hookah winds Rush Out of a clear Night Sky Thin Glass moon Spills Her flaxen Light On those Who Bring marshmallows To Hell. 26
Originally published in Seems 1989
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Celebration
(for Steve Early)
Tucking our shorts And clean white T’s In shallow sandbox graves, We ran through the shaded backyards And the alleys of my Plum Street boyhood — Dogs without collars
kites without strings
Living our Genesis and leaving it far behind In the apple-red knowledge of our flesh: Brief was our innocence Departed was the world, all Lost in the shadows and the light. Hand me that stack of Polaroids, Steve, The ones that old man Armstrong took; Now, deal me a memory, Pull a rabbit From your Hat. Remember? We were just little boys then; and It was pure magic. We were naked, unafraid, and so very much alive.
Originally published in Seems 1989 27
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Small town Homage to Twin Peaks
Go to church In Laura; Sit straight As a pitchfork handle. (make believe) Pious veneer For the record will Cover the last Ten miles Of bad road Like an expensive 3-piece Suit Covers true evil In our midst. (the owls) Watch the choir Proceed Like a scarlet-robed parade Of beautiful children Pooling itself Transformed Behind the Altar ‌ Sing Negro spirituals with feeling In the best white Small town Tradition. (and the pines)
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Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Sit in the back pew (it’s Bob) Eyes closed so Tight that Retinas are a kaleidoscope When turned toward Sun Stained glass And the kneeling Christ. Then the freedom (coffee black and cherry pie) The solitude The peace The primitive Choral harmonies, and Finally the slipping away Into a Sunday place That polishes Jagged edges Like a high mountain stream ... But, wake up!
(the plastic, the body)
Pass the plate now Recite the doxology & benediction Scatter the beautiful children To the morning To the streets To the cafes To the wind (fire, walk with me) And to the owls In the pines.
Originally published in Home Planet News 1996 29
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Home from Dayton after a long day Pair after pair of red lights Fall into line behind us Tracing urban corridors Like neon chemo Travelling thru blackened arteries; A new age city-spirit Organizes itself into clusters Of luminescence and pure color To arouse, to tempt ‌ Constellations of signs & billboards And signs of yet more signs Create a chaos worthy of You, a single cell That grew into the Lure of the metroplex. Others pass by in their Opposite-direction-time-capsules Crouching, aiming to pierce, to punctuate the night Hoping to arrive somewhere Anywhere meaningful By morning, While we flee from it Pretending we are deep space voyagers Expelled from a dying planet Like cosmic debris blown Into the outer most places ‌ space junk ... Truly grateful, transformed.
Originally published in Rambunctious Review 1997 30
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Veil of tears, wall of mirrors Half-smoked pack of Marlboros Nestled in the shadow Of a crooked smile; Cold Indonesian coffee Settles dark and heavy In the belly of an old Clay mug. My bad luck this morning Is living in a house full of mirrors With no powder to snort No pills tucked away: Wake up, wake up I am a whore now A door to door whore Going wherever the Jones go Trying to keep up With them, panting, breathless Even as the corridors I wander Fade to black And worse. Skeletons (so many of them crammed) In my closet have come to life, creaking, Clicking their false teeth, hungry as hell Reaching with impunity through my own sad creation ‌ A veil of tears, gilded with a false repentance. The dry bones clamor for yet another piece of the me, some new part; But no, it’s mine to keep this time. I choose life. Originally published in the G.W. Review 1988 31
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
If chainsaws were good medicine If the cure Could be applied To long-dead trees Hardened with neglect, Those strangled by Poisonous vines Big around As a hod carrier’s wrist, Then we considered it along with the wisest, and the Worst, the unmentionable, and then the unthinkable Yes, even using chainsaws As you lay in your bed Wanting to, and then, vomiting over and over From weeks of chemo The same vines growing Inside you.
Originally published in Black Buzzard Review 1989 32
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Late November rain No overcoat Again Standing Bent Flashlight in hand Umbrella For a small black puppy Waiting for Nature to call Louder, please Long underwear & Slippers No match For dark & Damp.
Originally published in Skylark 1990 33
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
She Greasy lipstick smeared Across her ghost-white face Is A twisted, blood-red rose. This is how it looks Sometimes When you No longer recognize Your children.
34
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Come out to play Miami County backroads glisten In the milky white of an autumn moon-bath Miles of twisted ribbon hold firm the cool terrain Hypnotic and treacherous In unannounced S-curves Veering into the shiny obsidian Of a deep October night: The midnight breezes Of late Indian summer Are thick with fallen oak and walnut, Benign whirlwinds Are atmospheric knotholes, Eddies of the cosmic dream state; Brown curled hulls of fallen leaves Become the mottled bodies Of summer toads, fat and motionless, On an asphalt mirage. Before the tired eyes of an hallucinating driver Shapechangers come out to play.
Originally published in Nexus 1988 35
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Metaphor Somewhere west Of Milton’s lost paradise In a town full of wasps, old ways And as of yet undefiled young minds, Children who, for now, disobey Their parents and take off their hats & scarves, Faces blotched red and pink From brisk mid-March breezes, Poke cautiously, curiously, innocently, At a broken and dying blackbird Moaning its last on the curb. Whether it was hit in a drive by or was dying Of “natural causes” they would never know. Probing gently and then roughly, then gently With fingers and sticks, expecting to be pecked or bitten, Little minds were trying to make sense of this Thing up close. No, it was not at all like the church doves They had seen, but not dangerous, either. So, it was not the differences that made This particular blackbird interesting But its eyes that seemed to say, “I am human, too.”
Originally published in Blue Light Review 1987 36
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Haiku Snow flies on wings Horizon to horizon Covering the dead.
Originally published in Youth Magazine 1973 37
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Creating order (part 1) Spend a whole day In the cool November sun Piling stones Taking them up to the now-withered beds Lining them up Straight Edges conforming to one another Creating a border Where the line of demarcation Rock to lawn to rock Grows fainter With each freeze and thaw. Creating order Is something we need to do, A natural repetition A mindful activity A primitive therapy, Stones side by side End to end Skulls of our ancestors Staring back Through the void of our souls Stoned, relentless in vain striving We peel back the old flesh, adding Eyes to the empty sockets Hoping that just maybe We will close our eyes one day for good & lock gazes with God, Himself. 38
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Creating order (part 2) Close our eyes Opening them to darkness The darkness of a clear night sky A lantern of stars Where constellations Are the skulls of our ancestors So far away from us that we have forgotten Their faces; We cannot make out their features But we know they look back In the way time folds in upon itself Like a clamshell of Einstein’s own making Peering back from Orion the Hunter Cygnus the Swan The 14 eyes of the Seven Sisters Puzzled at what we cannot see: The many faces of God That watch the stars The stars that are skulls The skulls that are rocks The rocks that are loaves lined up Side by side To create order.
39
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Train of thought Half-asleep Awakened by whispering; Take them to bed She says Pinching my thigh “you will get yours Later,” she laughs While I grumble about Middle class slavery And before-bed buffets … I seriously Reconsider The isolated freedom Of a 14th story Single room, Empty with cot & bedroll High atop the YMCA building In downtown Dayton Alone with the wind, Terra cotta roof, and Lightning rod bent Ever so slightly by the hand of God. Even traffic Keeps its distance Muzzled By cool stone Impenetrable On hot summer Nights.
Originally published in Riverrun 1994 40
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Empathy ( fire at a homeless shelter) Leave me cold In ivory tower garments Furniture for anatomy Doors closed Satellites convey The Message Something for everyone Alabaster tears Crinoline laughter Deadflower bouquet Vicarious giving Bread seekers Doorstep is an upgrade Glad to help, now leave To ratholes YMCA St. Vincent’s Where fires cleanse No one brings marshmallows In hell.
Originally published in the G.W. Review 1989 41
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Roadkill Methane fat Balloons of death Wobble in ditches Or middle of the road: Furry pancakes Fester in the afternoon sun Pointing all fours Skyward pop, pop, pop, pop Stiff as table legs At the Last Supper Reaching All the way to St. Francis ‌ Stinking & churning, Gurgling & bubbling, Black asphalt afternoons Launch their revenge Against heavy metal Dreamers, and Bleach-blonde motor Heads.
42
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Lost Child Searching still for that Eldorado … A golden opportunity A silken womb A padded cell Of quilted darkness: Fresh blood fills A ritual basin, Scribbled epitaphs adorn The bedroom walls Beneath the darkest places in your head; You, oh Oedipus’ Son, have fallen headlong Impaled on your mother’s solemn oath. By now she is blissfully unaware, Out of it on Quaaludes, And you are suffering alone. Stop bleeding on me Find meaning Get a life in the now … because … As much as you hate it on the outside Even a pilgrimage on your knees, Across acres of broken glass, Will not alter the past Nor bring you back To the watery Grave You seek.
43
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
He left for good this time Not reaching out to anyone ‌ Death was his surprise.
44
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
The horse Across a dark plain Eden’s thundering herd Burst through a wall Of primordial dust, The long-awaited gift, A prayer answered By spirits of the blue faraway ... Hunting dogs On long stick legs Ridden high above sunset and dawn Where a chestnut warrior Could see Into the eyes Of his Father.
Originally published in Hoofstrikes 1988 45
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Roadside after icestorm Olive limbs jut Broken off Empty coat sleeves; Dylan on cassette All Along the Watchtower, Acoustic afternoon After all. Brown sky Sags lower and lower Pregnant with wind, And blackbirds Gathering On telephone wires; Thin ice Drapes Over plowed fields Like a dull mirror. Cows wait; Farmer John Sits on a wooden stool In a white barn Pulling milk By hand.
Originally published in The Carthartic 1991 46
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
City Child Moon so bright As a snowman’s heart Platinum luster Shadows deep In Tulgey Wood Where things are not What they seem … go ask Alice Hookah winds Rush out Of a clear night sky Stars collide And glitter falls To the ground In an old whore’s dream City child Crowned with light Walks the street Alone.
Originally published in Riverrun 1989 47
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Harvest moon rises In the shadow of a scarecrow … Summer’s door clicks shut.
48
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Snowfall 11/30/74 Snow came in flocks For the first time Spreading their wings Alighting Perching so close together On every blade of grass On every crack in the sidewalk On every windshield On every curb and gutter On every rooftop On themselves On us.
49
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Anything but He lay motionless for a time, Listening to sirens fading In the suburbs Fading and then gone, Feeling the curtains Barely move across the hairs on his wrist in perfect response To what was left of an evening breeze, Staring at the blistered ceiling Trying in vain to find an image of Jesus or maybe even An angel Anything but the same Tired old brown watermarks and Constellations of fly shit.
Originally published in Blue Light Review 1989 50
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Death’s prairie Bless your scattered dead With eagle feathers; Consecrate the ravaged earth Where bones of your fathers lie Exposed to the brittle cold. New-age medicine man In golden herringbone tweed Let your hair grow twisted in the wind Braided by the eagle’s claw … While tears of the Great Father Rain down on your ceremony Silent as a proud man’s pain Silent as a deaf god’s ear. On the cluttered wall of a souvenir shop Nestled on the river’s southern shore Hangs the bleached skeleton of a young Indian warrior Displayed like big game ‘long side the beer.
Originally published in Plainsongs 1989 51
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Fish out of water My willow-eyed mistress Of the morning Weeping For Me Drenched in tears Weeping Because I hurt her In my own Quest For Pain Grating Like Sand on teeth The slow Drying movement Of walking On New legs Saffron eyes Become Opal Stones dipped In Blue Unable to cry Except In anger
52
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
And she becomes Angry In selfDefense Her hair Breaks Out in blue Fire Arms and legs Ignite Pressing To the center Of her Being I cannot Put her Out I cannot Swim In thin Air I cannot.
Originally published in Rambunctious Review 1995 53
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Winter fog Watching it flow is mesmerizing, hypnotic: Thick brown water flows, not in gallons But in cubic flatbeds, creek loads Of tree trunks, buckets & tires and much, much more. Grumbling and gurgling it parts its banks Passing under the bridge and rising up Like a muddy Moses Swelling out of itself consuming All ditches and low lying fields. A frozen fog lifts out of it and then falls Back onto twigs & branches, itself, Dried grass and mangled cattails As wave after wave of tiny sparkling skeletons Dissolve in the headlights Melting on contact with my hands and face Imitating starfire And finely ground blue-bottle glass.
54
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Inheritance I inherited my mother’s personal hell … The black, the gray The silence The cycles of depression And mania The nothing That begets less than Nothing. Coming and going With Doppler precision Sanity runs Right along the brink of disaster Like an ambulance chaser Hungry for pizza And the extra Cash. The first fruits of reason Have dropped To a sullen earth Overripe Collapsing Teeming with dread. I am afraid that my heart Is only a Jarvik Cold, mechanical, distant — A thoughtless remark, a fake, A stone in the wind. Originally published in Rambunctious Review 1990 55
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
The flock
or “my addiction”
Blackbird flies across barren time Casting shadows On the golden jewel of a memory … One of the phantom flock That drove Van Gogh Finally mad. Thick funnel of feathers, beaks and darkness Surrounds me in a cloak of exits; Neon death A last soft escape. Heavy breathing, Heart bloated with desire, That same old feeling returns. Quills of reason fall to the ground, Useless shards of genius thwarted, Dulled by the leaden armor of self-indulgence. I must consume everything, cannibal that I am, Chewing beaks like popcorn, Preening my teeth with glossy black feathers, Sucking on entrails, shooting eyeballs, Using assholes for hatbands … Casting shadows.
Originally published in the Cathartic 1987 56
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Wash day Bleached bedsheets Clorox bright Flap like sails Over a dry riverbed No different Than shadows on Blue water Except for the water ...
57
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Ossuarium (the dream) In a suburban front yard Lined with marigolds and petunias A ten year old blue spruce Bursts into flames. In the old county hospital A dying man Takes his last breath While his own ashes rain down Around him. In a forgotten cemetery At the edge of town That same old man, now young and handsome Wears a fine tuxedo Stands ankle-deep in water As he kisses his lover Through a red silk undergarment ‌ All around him in a musty swell Skeletons from the old township Begin to dance Making frangible noises Like dry twigs & broken wicker furniture; Unborn children Wriggle down through the dank confines Of their own slender ossuaries Unborn, dry as a bone Time and time again.
58
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Drunk again prairie schooner Its hope were higher Dreams brighter Wheels rounder And spokes thicker Than anyone had a right to expect. Like a vessel Titanic-perfect Found shipwrecked and Deserted Among Ghost towns and busted out saloons, Undergrowth and strong prairie winds Had begun to blot it out altogether Except for the fond memories And poor investments Of those who had Such high Hopes.
59
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Sad old place It was melancholy For lack of simple care and attention; Nostalgic skeletons Of a more romantic age Still rattled in a strong wind. The rose-gilded lane was still there Albeit, overrun by violet pigweed And scarlet peony ‌ Most of the climber had ceased to flower But here and there a salmon bud Exploded in the tangle; A pea-green corn spider Scooted to the outside of a similarly tinted Nettle, Her two sets of overly protracted arms Reached into thin air Patiently waiting, yearning, for that fatal pax de deux Of prey and predator, Dinner and diner.
Originally published in Grand Lake Review 1997 60
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Bright leaves have fallen On tired lawns and crumbling sidewalks ‌ Sweet smoke fills the air.
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Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
My attic retreat a poet’s lament Under the naked gaze Of a wrought iron desk lamp Bleached hulls of mayflies Pile up deep as electrocuted sparrows Accumulating one death after another Throughout the summer Phoenix-patterned wool blankets Nailed to black window frames Grow heavy & dank After an early morning downpour While a fat yellow sun begins to rise Already somewhat indistinct Behind the dense mulberry haze ... Only this pile of words chaff not wheat And a failing marriage To show for it ...
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Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Vision Day so still and clear, A Wyeth framed In steel Factory windows: One blue heron stands motionless Poised like a slingshot In the river Below the Dam.
Originally published in Way Station Magazine 2001 63
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Depression Moon shines useless In its bed of trees; Crickets forget their song.
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Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Ending Mom lies in state Completely quiet now Her hand is not ice cold, but cold enough And unresponsive; I hold it anyway Afraid she might slip away While I think this through One last time. I mutter a silent prayer at the casket, A monologue really, About Frank Sinatra, Matt Monroe, Simon and Garfunkel, The Serfs, Judy Garland, And all the other crazy conglomeration of stuff she Fed me along the way. Oh, she and dad let me explore ‌ a lot ... Even if my teachers saw a problem in the works, Those were my wonder years When tomato horn worms Meant a good crop & Cecropia caterpillars Were plucked like righteous fruit From the full-blown maples That adorned our suburban Ohio landscape. I had so many jewels in my crown; and then there was always hope. It was a time when fields were there to run in Because they were endless; And fossils, like their diamond cousins, Were always in the ground waiting If I wanted to dig all day For them. That was before 19 and 64. 65
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Hotel lobby ballerina Alabaster figurine Back toward me, arrow straight Feet @ a perfect 45 Flanked by blinking digitals Dayton Time ‌ 10:46 P.M. San Francisco Time ‌ 7:46 P.M. I light a thin cigarette Brush ashes from my pin-stripe vest And sink elbow-deep into the plush cerulean furniture And watch: She glissades to a cigar and menu counter Perpendicular to my unobstructed view Glances for approval I pretend not to notice but I do Bending at the waist She unlaces a calf-high leather boot Eyelet by eyelet all 24 Till it falls to the floor Like a program on opening night Lifting a slender, well-boned foot, And curling her flawless painted toes She presses down hard on the cold marble floor Getting reacquainted with truth and the dance ... She eases into a golden slipper a second shimmering skin And unbeknownst to her oblivious guests She strikes a perfect Arabesque Undetected all the while. Originally published in Flights 1988 66
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Walk to be alone Bowling Green, Oh 1973 Walk on The hardened snow Neon drifts Bow to the east White Mecca Cyclone wind Laid flat, polished Blanket of stinging Cold Compound halogen eyes Pyramids of light Refracted; House of mirrors Glistening windows Of frozen blacktop Acres of dark turf Sea of folded chairs Echoes thrown Hang in mid-air The perfect bomb Hail Mary!
Originally published in Green Feather 1987 67
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Michigan backroads Hours spent Testing the shocks On chuck-holed Michigan backroads. Endless snaking miles Of lush thicket and maple Span the dead zone between acres of short corn And cherry orchards; Driftwood tree trunks Washed ashore on a Van Buren County nowhere Attract dwarf marigolds and white picket fences Faster than retirees can say, “bingo.�
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Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Groaning combine squats Axle-deep in mud and beans … Tractor wheel clouds roll overhead.
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Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
A shadow late in the day Mint chocolate-chip for the girls and me At Hart’s Country Stop; And then a stroll Down Roarke’s Alley, The one that runs left off of Pike Street In Laura. It was a walk back in time, my time, and So easy to remember Those unattended, overgrown Passageways winding through the blurred Landscape of a more Innocent age … When a warm embrace cost nothing but A pleasant memory. It was then, through the blinding sun That an old and tarnished gentleman Disguised as A golden retriever, Coat threadbare and unkempt, Began to follow us Like a shadow late in the day. We slowed to an uncertain stop Unsure of intentions all of us As he came to inspect With a moist wrinkled nose And watery Clouded Eyes.
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Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
We conversed in sign With gentle hands, calloused paws, everything at once, Of moons that rose Sons that fell, of what had been And what can never be, not ever again. But, nature soon spoke louder than we So our shaggy friend Shivered, squinted, And set his sights; Growling a brief Farewell He made short work Of a telephone pole, then Shook a leg goodbye. Rewind the reel to reel ‌ Deeper down the alley I was struck by the intensity Of recall as the faceless opaque Sun that once warmed us fell to the ground, scribbling Penciling in cool gray shadows Between slats of thick yellow light; The bleached weathered facades Of this alley ghost town Seemed so very familiar Looming toward us Bearing the weight of a thousand memories, or more Windows blank, unblinking And garage doors slung open Across rusted tracks Of someone’s broken dreams. Mine
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Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
There exists a musty attic Somewhere behind the weathered Bone-colored siding Where thrice folded newspapers Carry a 1955 dateline Accumulating in gigantic brittle Heaps Yellowed with age Stacked in corners, ceiling high; Bats still clung to unhewn beams Like memories In storage, fat with fear Frozen solid in the mind’s Eye Of a skinny, blonde-haired boy Tanned from the fields, An alien on his own Street … Plum Street … Troy, Ohio; Afraid of the bats, yes, but more so The boys down the block Who chased him home Up into the attic Called him names And forced him Into a world of his own making A gentle and faraway place Full of butterflies and tall flowers. But that was then And this is now; I shook my head, called to my daughters And tried to spot That old retriever 72
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
And I did. The old man was sitting crosslegged In the waning daylight, waiting For his master, patiently Seven houses back Barely visible in the deepening blue shadows. And then he became one with them, One more shadow Cast within a shadow Late in the day.
Note: This poem is highly modified, and for a reason. I wrote it when I was half the age I am today which is 60. As such I have had plenty of time to reflect, and to layer the poem with incidents or strata from at least 3 different periods in my life. As with theoretical physics I was able to bend and compress the timeline of events so that my own recollection is retained while certain times and places were compressed and intertwined ‌ with the exception of the beginning in Laura and the trip down Roarke’s Alley as we called it. That part is as it was, and was the stepping off point for me that afternoon late in the summertime of southwestern Ohio. Originally published in Ohio Poetry Day Contest Awards 1986 Lewis & Anna Ryman Memorial Award First prize 73
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Homeless (Lyn Lifshin style) A dream, A nightmare A study in compassion? Kicked out No where to go Not even a camera To my Name O God Everything gone Including My name Who am I? I said I can’t Remember Walk to mom’s place And she’s already dead I know it But this time Evicted Everything I knew Gone Walk a levee Toward A make-believe city Looks like Troy Feels like Hamilton Must be Middletown Somewhere Between here and there Bullied out of my Belongings No clothes cold But the rags wet On my skinny frame 74
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Homeless I know it Everything sold To feed The beasts They have teeth And they want To hurt Me Again I know it But can’t remember Why Only place is Hope House Hope House Found it I hope I said I can’t remember Intake done No one knows me Unrecognizable No bedroll Just a cot Failed some stupid Questionnaire Wrong answer I am nobody Can’t follow Directions O God How did this Happen? I want to cry Really do But can’t remember How. 75
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
The Drive home Rushing headlong Through Space Tires skimming along Narrow roads Hydroplane smooth Asphalt everglades Fireflies hurled toward And past ‌ tiny meteors In a tailspin: Knee jerk reflex Wanting to duck As yellow spears of light Click on impact Leaving finger Paths Of phosphorescence Splayed Across the windshield Like shimmering jewels On the gloved hands Of a black-tie Night.
Originally published in Blue Light Review 1988 76
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Advent of winter A young man, pale and thin, Hides behind an apple-red barn Pulling fragrant petals from the last rose of summer, Pulling brittle wings from Monarch butterflies Too frail to make the migration, All the while smiling All the while waiting For jack-o-lanterns to be taken from a suburban porches, Crushed in the middle of the street, And tomatoes to rot to a slimy and pendulous perfection.
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Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Anhedonia A place where the sun Will not shine, Where sex and symphonies Are performed by robots Rendered in the exquisite likeness Of who we used to be ‌ Where gray is all that matters Where beginnings and endings Are as pointless as broken shovels Where the intellect reigns supreme & the government is a puppet Where the heart has long since Locked up from an overdose of self And the soul runs screaming over a cliff Chasing its Annabel Lee Over and over and over because This is hell ...
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Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Religion Is a habit Has no deity but self And so the heavens are empty.
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Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Clarice ‌ fell asleep In the russet warmth of a North Dakota Lignite sun Winter squash continued to grow, uninterrupted Undersides pale as clouds Ice cubes melted Rising to the surface of her honey-colored tea Like a halo of blind fishes Shadows lengthened Slender black tributaries ran deep into late afternoon She did not get up to thaw sausages for dinner She did not acknowledge the brimstone sun As it plunged to the horizon, teetering on the rim of nightfall Nor the rise of a perfect apricot moon.
Originally published in the G.W. Review 2001 80
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Back through North Star Curtain of rain Lightning curses the afternoon sky Tearing across like streaks of neon adrenaline Splitting thunderheads stacked and dark with purpose Travel home quickly, back through North Star Trying to beat the rain Seeking to catch a glimpse of the heritage I share With a young sharpshooter named Annie And the stories that surround the county Before fame and fortune Became her. There were tales of locals, even Weaver relatives Tossing coins in the air Cans and just about anything Miss Oakley could shoot backwards over her shoulder Or from the hip without even aiming. Yes, I could see them all gathering in the dusty streets Under the whitewashed and watchful silhouettes Of God’s most favored steeples All gilded with a golden light, the Hallmark version That all old family stories are bathed in ... Eyes on the road, racing the wind, finally outrunning it Home again to a place well-remembered: Seven Oaks A good place where new grass is a blanket of emerald fire The sun shines platinum in its permanent station And Morel mushrooms populate Woodland sanctuaries With a dense carpet of edible sponges.
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Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Ludlow falls Dad would spin donuts in the new fallen snow Just once a year, blessing us all With his annual rite of youth and remembrance Before we plowed headlong into the deep night Secure in our time capsule, a ’65 beige VW; Ever anxious to arrive We sang Christmas carols, a cappella At the tops of our little boy lungs Still believing in white magic, The cold swirling kind That still gave birth to angels And snowmen. At the falls blistered old firemen And wind-worn farmers Kept solemn guard in their wool lined canvas coveralls, Huddled like characters in a dim Rembrandt Close as possible to the sweet cleansing fire Faces flickering orange to black Over a sawed-off 55 gallon drum; We warmed our hands Singed our scarves Stood with our backs to the stinging wind, While Dad carried the conversation In a language we barely Understood.
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Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Our waterfall creaked and groaned In the bitter blinding cold While tine rivulets of holy water Ran unseen Beneath its frozen mask; Icicles smooth as dragons’ teeth Reached all the way down Almost touching The swimming’ hole below … A single strand of decorative lights, Muted by the snowy thick blanket, Pulsed forever red & green Filling the air with crisp mint candy And the dreams Of faraway places In the pine.
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Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Balloon Afternoon They were the colors Of fruit-flavored popcorn The kind we brought back from the mall In huge plastic bags Teasing our tongues With the prospect of the next tart and crunchy Mouthful Breathing new life, giving a new definition To the beautiful hues and Brilliant designs That painted such cool ethereal shapes On the colorless vault of The heavens.
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Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Raindance Faces upturned The faithful stood silent as sunburnt hills As the first explosions of dust began Afraid that even a sigh of relief Might break the spell.
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Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Flashback I do vividly recall That day of poetic inspiration, The second immaculate conception, Frame-for-frame As flashbacks are prone to present Themselves: Opposing elements, Fire and water, Were an alchemist’s dream … Brooding skies became a rare metal Shining soft and amber; lightning struck; Hail pecked on the library window Relentless as a gossip, Waking me from a young man’s daydream. I was drugged with insight! No longer in control Of my x-ray vision; everything Was poetry, Nothing was invisible, Rocks became bread, water became wine, Trees talked of time immemorial And love was not unrequited. And it became clear ... That burning was the brand of Keats and Brautigan, That lust was for the word and the life, That lust was for the truth that is not beautiful, Those urges that are worse than a masochist's nightmare; Looking back, reviewing life’s ledger, I would not barter with any muse To be a lesser being. Originally published in Rambunctious Review 1988 86
Diet of a Madman: a collection of poetry
Moth Ragged little caretaker Of late, late autumn Gray and unremarkable nuisance, Tenant of summer’s eviction; You court our porch light Like a deserted lover Never forgetting nor forgiving Erratic in your grace Lover of the proverbial flame Flawed in your passion: Worn out wings pound Furiously In what has become for you A satin vacuum, a killing jar Where there is no sound & No purchase, Where death Is understood, even solicited; A friend of a friend of a sailor Is coming across the lake, White in a heavy wool trench coat Gunmetal slacks, brown bucks And a cold, hard heart.
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Many of the poems which are included in this compilation are previously published works; the original publication is listed with the year it was released at the bottom of the page. Understand, however, that editing is a perennial exercise so most (but not all) have been rewritten, and thus may be updated from their original state altering the look, intent and feel. The author lives in Middletown, Ohio with his wife Rebecca and their 5 cats. Cats, in Sean’s estimation, illustrate one of God’s finest hours. Sean and Rebecca are devout Christ-followers; they praise God and thank Him for “the good life.” Other projects either published, or in process, are available to read on the website ISSUU, which makes a cyber-version available that looks and reads like a paper publication …………………. In the Beginning: The Book of John in Lesson Form, Thomas: The Gospel of Thomas Researched, and The Voice God Gave Me: A Year-long Collection of Meditations. 88