stress relief

i was driving

down the freeway

with daily stress on

my brow

and found myself

pondering

the profession

of massage

i received

my first massaging

last weekend

from a 

dark haired woman 

who held my hand 

like a lover

during orgasm

god, when

was the last time

i did that?

with left hand

on the steering wheel,

i reached 

down to my crotch

and imagined

and remembered

until i came

right there

in the driver's seat

and  

honestly, it was

just that simple

to find relief

freedom ain't free

i have one sentence to fit everything because sentence should be spelled sentance the way i pronounce it and the 8 o'clock hour has inspired all these fucking conundrums in and around my dome like how i only have one life to live, minus the soap opera plus the ex-lover who complicates business because if i build it you will come but i'm afraid of failure so this isn't a school, academy, or center i'm constructing because those titles are loaded dogma and i can't stand associating myself with MIT teacher martyrs sucking institutional penis, but i have to approach and act with acceptance otherwise i'm as crooked as the cocks-man who unravels my existence, period

if i build it they will come, if i build it you will come, now shut up and do, period

A.I.

cheez-its

of modern

science

savor

the taste

of this

artificial 

intelligence.

beach haiku

family members

with walking sticks

syncopate

beach mantras

belle rides

backside

arms stretched

her airplane wings

minus tide

plus mom and dad

with 10 sand fleas

marching up my leg

a boat 

floats offshore

captainless, 

perhaps plundered

back to the car,

3 generations,

hear their echo

in the shell.

m&m

gobbling m&m's and 

slurping twisted zin 

couch-side on a friday night.

a four star calamity?

damn.  i hope not.  

but i did experience a 

hypercolor  rush

when i thought 

we might cross paths today

and now i'm trying to 

delete your junk from

my mind map

with cheap american euphemisms 

and self gratification

alas, to no avail.

you paved an interstate 

through my netherlands

no indulgence can erode.

must be time for bed.

yes indeed.

reflections on success

driving, i came to this conclusion:

good writers are honest thinkers.

you've got to ink 

your obsessions, oddities -

underpants.

about the time 

you slipped and shit yourself

on a dusty logging road in 

northern california

or the lover who

ate you out

with chewing gum in his mouth;

and the friend 

who painted your ass yellow 

at a 40th birthday party.

i don't know.

but i used to steal 

panties by the dozen

from jc penny

and i ain't famous yet.

so i'll keep writing to 

see if i get any closer

to the truth.

still waiting at the slide

in kindergarten

i frequented the park

like a well worn 

barstool.

on the slide

was bonnie, 

with storybook curls,

staring at me.

god, i wanted to

hold her hand,

so i asked her

to be my friend.

she said 

no, not now, 

but maybe 

later.

and yesterday

i received an email

from a man

i frequented

saying the same

thing.

i'm still waiting

on both

for a better 

offer.