by Julie Rogers

In your chair, your cave
head bent to book
your prayer, your cradle
quiet lights your eyes,
fingertips, bowing spine
wooing mind
from its house of white
head atop an old man disguise
dog – eared trappings of sage,
sweatshirt loose
on bones ground down
into flesh you wrestle daily.
Clomp along to the teapot
stand at the sink
look out over the Oakland hills
delight in their heavy gray,
pause on the walk back
to swallow titles, each a cell
that fled your body
for the shelves,
pause again, look in
on me still across the bed
my skin your page
belly of words
mythic dark patch
your full quill
breasts, O love’s round letters
will write your poems
but today you are reading.

from House Of The Unexpected

by David Meltzer

I wanted to be a stunt
man, crashing through
glass doors, pound out
cowboy hero face
in B – movie saloon, fly
out apartment window
smash onto parked car
roof, motorcycle off cliff
into dark angry sea, cop
car ram into high speed
perp van, slam raw hand
into slick alien guts, wrest
sword from samurai grip, rip
grenade tossed by Nazi
scar, 10 car pile up Kong
provokes, near black out
underwater trapped in diving
bell, afire race down end of
planet street, flip into air
above ancient volcano, seat
belt won’t unlock buckle
in quicksand surround, trapeze
snaps me down to no net, roll
through papier mache
avalanche into surprise
iron wall, fall onto
a horse not there, oak
break – away chair doesn’t
on my head, airplane wing
strap won’t let my feet go,
rooftop to rooftop leap
missed, crunch spine
chakras into dust, karate
kick in kishkes
ruptures spleen,

retractable nails don’t
in dueling yogis fight
scene, as Plastic Man
double flattened out
hero accordion in
elevator mishap, stalked
by monster orca, lost
three fingers already
bent by bad punches,
forget the scene
w/ the lioness in heat,
& more galore
as they splash on movie ads

I wanted to become a stuntman
I became a poet

by Will Staple

The flying penis prepares a community of antlers
       a tranquil reunion of great singers
               a fraternity of the liberated spirit
       where regards are never amiss.

Interrogate the travelers that have seen
       the long history of combat
               declaring their independent mentality
inventing private property
       declaring their difference from animals.

The intact lords of desire
       despoil the qualms of the unadventurous
               abandon the false heritage of inhibition
and shamelessly sow luminous promises
       in a mirror – lined room
               with a pink dresser.

by Will Staple

The goddess had a veil
and no one could look upon her face and lie
but     one man had to see her face
and so he lifted her veil
and there he saw that the face of the goddess
was his face . . .

You will never meet a person who believes
      in Godness or Spirit, with faith in a practice,
                  depressed.
‘I’m beloved              why should I be perfect ?’

Disidentify with consciousness and ego
                  so consciousness can be free
to see the whole soul        essential nature
a moment of love            a glimmer of light —

from the moment you don’t expect so much:
                  it works.
When you have love you need nothing:
    without love you need everything your way —
you must fill the nothing with everything
    and don’t know what you’re longing for . . .

Touched by selfless love      particles of light
thru every vein of the body          tears of joy
that take away hardness . . .              When I
open my window      the darkness conquers my eyes
but behind my eyes              eternity burns.