week of December 17 - 23, 2007

A Man With No Teeth Serves Us Breakfast | I'd Like to Bake Your Goods | Stolen Mummies | Brendan Constantine is My Kind of Town
Up Liberty's Skirt | Feeding Holy Cats | Mowing Fargo | I'm a Jew, Are You? | Lizard King of the Laundromat | I Am My Own Orange County
Paris: It's The Cheese | Poetry Super Highway | Judaic Links | Rick's Bookmarks | Cobalt Poets
E-mail Rick | Other Cool Rick Stuff / Upcoming Readings | Who The Hell Is Rick

Crib Death I had that dream again, that awful achy one, that wake me up one, that keep me up all night one. Timbers rose amid the smoky midnight mist, sky scraper high, darks way. I had that dream again; you know that dream, the one that makes the goose bumps on my arms pop on even the hottest nights. Eyes heavy with sleep glue I wipe to see if somehow that dream I had again, had materialized within this room, had escaped the other rooms, the dark rooms we inhabit in those silent hours. Did it find the numbers on my door? Did that dream, I had again, hold the key to enter that door, walk inside and visit this house? The baby sleeps. The cat approaches. The baby sleeps. The cat comes close. I shake my head; I shake the dream I had again. I wake into another room. I walk into another room. I see myself, deep asleep beneath the forest boughs. The mountain lion sits right next to me-he lowers his head. I am in the dream I had again. It is too dark to see, too dark to breathe. It is too dark to know if it is real, if there is a way out, if this is wrong, or might this nocturnal fright be. Do I surrender to that dream that I had again? See what unknown room it leads me to? See what place, what space, what emptiness or hold my breath, no matter how hard that dream I had again, sucks me in? Or let it suck the day's light? Leave me in dark. Without the light there is no dark, no right, no wrong. Falling hard back into the dream I had again. The forest floor, my bed, wraps roots round my arms, round my legs, round my throat. The more I writhe and thrash, tighter the tree binds me into the dream that I had again. The cat approaches. The baby sleeps. The mountain lion comes close. The baby sleeps. I don't sleep as I wipe spilt milk from the baby's chin.

Lion a Lot Like You Lion leaping into The clear blue air Only concrete but Fierce enough to tear Imagination to shreds Lion leaping from Ivy encroaching Lion escaping A gothic perch Lion leaping Never moving Lion snarling At a thought Snarling at a thought That made him fierce But froze him in concrete Flight After a Fashion Lady bug happy The window's down Stretches her wings Such as they are And they are Enough Be Mine Valentine bear Thrown to the curb Spread eagle, staring At the open sky Heart in his arms Heart in his hands Fido For the Hell of It A black Lab who'll Answer to any name Has wandered up To the farm. He goes Along with me on Long winter walks I call him Fido For the hell of it We walk into morning Frost that sparks like A carpet of diamonds "Fido" I say just For the hell of it "Are we more than The names we give?" He wags his tail. Nothing Has a name here but For us for a while We walk into evening Fields blued by solstice's Cold, trees bared but For a slight mist rising