Call me pack horse…Sunday Oct. 19, 2014 / Nottingham, UK #SchwervonPoetry

Call me pack horse
Call me living dream
Call me quiet strange lady
Sitting a cross from me on the train
Call me a liar.
She wasn’t strange at all
Actually quite nice.
But she did refer to herself as short.

Giant cranes swing their
Giant steely beaks
Through the air
Slicing through a Shepard pie sky
Dousing the clouds in a thick
Warm industrial gravy

I hear tale of an old model ship
That hasen’t been dusted
For a many many years
For fear that the chosen janitor
Be struck down dead
just like the last several in the past

Love is a test that you never fail
Stop trying to memorize
Start fighting bees

Pumping things up to win
Lambs on the prairie drinking cider
Waving at a bullet as it passes by
Is there a doorman at the gates of hell
Checking OD’s ?
Measuring the with of you sores

No shortage of green pastures around here
No shortage of rain
The rain comes and then it goes
Just like the sun

 (This poem was originally recited at Spanky Van Dykes on October 19, 2014 in Nottingham, UK)


London undone…Saturday Oct. 18, 2014 / London, UK #SchwervonPoetry

Your the one don
So much fucking fun don
An I don’t have to run don

Fresh Cat Sandwiches
Raining cuts and dogs
The Dogs of London
The frogs of war
The fog of dogs
Packs and packs
running in the street
Eating out of pots
Checking email
Humping the neighbors cat
Before the velvety thick backdrop
of a soft London fog

I woke up fine and cranky
But You swallowd me up
And spit me out whole
Wiggling and fighting.
Living moment to moment

Green and snug
Damp and classy
Tired and sexy
Dimly lit inspiration
We bond in the shadows
We connect through dark entries

Thank you

 (This poem was originally recited at Dalston Victoria on October 18, 2014 in London, UK)


There’s always time to listen…Friday Oct. 18, 2014 / Colchester, UK #SchwervonPoetry

Awesome merchandise
Troublesome meaningless transactions
The questions of life
are much easier to answer
When you are a moving target

Pickled piccolos
Alarm clocking
Soft distant oboes

Dog stockings
Sliced vine ripe tomatoes
Smeared runny makeup face
On a crusty nub of peasant bread

Rubber shoes sloshing in the brain
The blood flows through your neck
like warm sauce

Copping on the train
Things have a way
And then they get in the way

I’ll speak to the customer
You speak to the man Chester
And the man will speak to you

There’s always time to listen
So plug your ears and get to it

 (This poem was originally recited at Lakeside Theatre on October 17, 2014 in Colchester, UK)

We scale towers…Monday Oct. 13, 2014 / Brooklyn, NY #SchwervonPoetry

Palisades Brooklyn.

We scale towers
We enter tunnels
We cross rivers.

We call home.
We massage the cold ground
With the friction
Of our hot spinning wheels
Obey, obey
With giant rat like tails
We whip our muses into shape
Not easily
We bend like a brick of wire  coat hangers
Carefully place our  Nuts in a cup
And take flight
Like a doll on fire
We soar and
burn like a hurricane of acid
We spatter in the faces of children
And leave marks
We lay the grounds for
Something like a love style
But it’s not cool
it’s warm
when it’s cool it’s over
When it’s cool it’s dead
Let’s kill the cool
Nothing cool can stay
Let’s resurrect the warm
Not the burn
But the warm
Warm like bread and fat and oil
Oil that smooths and runs deep
It keeps things rolling and moving and digestible
We are the oil in the engine
That burns in the lantern
We keep things from sticking
We help the salad
Go down


(This poem was originally recited at Palisades on October 13, 2014 in Brooklyn, NY)

Tower on the prairie…Saturday Oct. 11, 2014 / Columbus, OH #SchwervonPoetry

UntitledTower on the prairie.
I can see you from a mile a way.
Like a giant
Totally beautiful
And unnecessary
The tiles of color in my coffee cup holder
The weight of hot liquid held in my mouth
Is it sad
That I have to exercise myself artificially
To compensate for the evolutionary course of nature
We have destroyed?
Or is another example that confirms we are all God in drag
Walking around the parking lot
Driving ourselves to the gym
Making people laugh
Paying people to make us laugh
Rock in our mothers arms
Paying others to rock us
Take a brief moment to look at this floor
Feel the countless claws of dreams that have dragged across it
Kicking and screaming
Loving and encouraging
The heavy machinery of our lives and all the marks that it makes
Every tissue and napkin and plastic fork
They are all little bricks in the dream wall.
Use them thoughtfully
Send each one out into the world like a mother sea line
Hold your little seal-pup-used-applesauce-container
close to your warm beating heart
Then let it go.

(This poem was originally recited at The Tree Bar on October 11, 2014 in Columbus, OH)