Category: poetry

i wrote this in 1983 … time was not kind — they both went to jail for a while for selling drugs and then one of them died from aids … i’ve lost track of the other … but at the time this was written everything was fab – u – lous

having business to do

in the wilds of l.a.
i asked the von bon-bons
if i might stay —
rent a room for a month
at the chateau des garcons
with its pools
and parties
and plethora of phones

 

“but of course!” screamed eureka
“we’ll have oodles of fun
dancing and dunking
and drinking the sun!”

so i packed up my life
and headed out west
and joined the von bon-bons
in their fabulous nest

 

my room was a palace
my days were a breeze
with every convenience
to put me at ease
the pleasures could fill
an encyclopedia
and needless to say
they give excellent media

 

convivia and eureka von-bon-bon
the dears
run business and home
and coddle the queers
and the machos
and other fun sorts
who stop by for nachos
and water-type sports
though their first names may have
a feminine ring
they are often quite butch
and less queen than king
the von bon-bon estate
would make boy george cheer
“abandon all gender
ye who come here”

 

convivia in the kitchen
making milk and honey
eureka in the parlor

being very funny
and i with my night-cap
observing the scene

this is what “gay”
was invented to mean

 

then they’re off to the east
or the south or northwest
peddling their glasses
and the rest of the wares
designed to elicit

envious stares

von bon-bons know fashion
from bottom to top
when you see what’s for sale
you’ll shop ‘til you drop

 

dorothea von bon-bon
whose lineage is royal
has the essence of charm
and the absence of toil
she lounges all day
in sartorial splendor
barks at all comers
and sniffs at their gender

 

spotorina von bon-bon
stops by now and then
and we’re all too, too tasteful
to ask where he’s been
some things are better
left unsaid and unknown
and we’d rather not ponder
where spot’s fur has flown

 

i’m feeling quite wistful
that my stay’s at an end
i’ve made a few bucks
and many a friend
the style is high
and the living is good
when you join
the von bon-bons
of west hollywood

i really enjoy
hanging with you
your perspective as fresh
as morning dew
your adventures amusing
and so far-flung
but how dare you be so young

 

your friends are intelligent
talented
cute
energetic
and often astute
your crowd is exciting
to be among
but how dare you be so young

 

don’t you realize
everyone dies?
our lives a procession
to our demise?
and the further down
that path we roll
the more time takes its toll?

 

you don’t get allusions
common as dirt
or references
known by the alert
or at least by those
not recently sprung
how dare you be so young

 

your sleek physique
your glowing skin
your little tush
your waist so thin
all leave me lustful
and unstrung
how dare you be so young

 

the quest for truth
the muse you seek
the blush of youth
upon your cheek
all so charming
and jejune
yet alarming
gone so soon

 

i want to say
”enjoy, enjoy”
but such advice
can well annoy
i’ve been carefree
then time stung
how dare you be so young

i was so enthralled with the experience

i forgot to take pictures
let alone record it with words

 

 

i should write of zurich
i should write of prague
i should keep a journal
or start an on-line blog

but when i’m in the midst
of some exotic scene
the effort to record it
would really contravene
the pleasure of the moment
the experience as is
flatten out the highs and lows
decarbonate the fizz

 

even taking photos
puts a camera in between
the object and observer
the scope of what is seen

subtracting precious seconds
from one’s immersion in
the culture or the vista
where climate meets the skin

 

what’s true of vacation
can also hold for work
i should record the progress
but i get so berserk
with deadlines and revisions
with meeting the demands

where’s the time to analyze
all the different strands
of thought and creativity
from everyone involved
the input and great teamwork
to get the problems solved?

 

yes i should write of all of it
take lots of pictures too
but when i’m in the thick of things
there’s just too much to do

when it comes to keeping house
i am my mother’s son
though i’m not a legal spouse
i’m the cleaning one
i’m not really a fanatic
and often let it slide
until the dust and clutter
reach a point i can’t abide

 

i’m especially like my mom
if any visitor is due
a repairman coming by
prompts me to face the slew
of papers, mail and stuff
which endlessly accrue
or at least to tidy up
anything in view

 

lately i am finding
this place difficult to keep
i feel like a dirty louse
or at least a clutter creep

 

when we first moved into this spot
those many years ago
it was relatively easy
to have everything just so
each relic had its place
and those places did seem ample
to file or store away
each artifact or sample

 

but through the years we grew
busier and older
with extra residue
filling file and folder
and more and more it seems
the clutter keeps on creeping

out of where it’s meant to live
’til there’s barely room for sleeping

 

clothes escaping closets

books still seeking shelves

papers strewn like autumn leaves
tossed by playful elves
gifts we never cared for
but couldn’t throw away
mementos which are meaningful
with no place for display

 

i have to say i’ve noticed
we are not alone
friends with bigger houses
have rooms now overgrown
with the detritus of living
with things they want to keep
like me they’re on the losing side
of all this clutter creep

we shouldn’t be dining out
but with both of our heads
about to explode
from the difficult day we’ve had
(the hacks having driven us nearly mad)
we’re far too spent to cook
instead we’re splurging precious jack
when we should be cutting back

 

our neighbor got rid of her cable t.v.
a loss we deem a tragedy
we’ll give up taxis
and vitamin b
but not our prized h.d.t.v.
as times grow increasingly black
and everyone’s cutting back

 

now i think twice
before i buy
and price tags make me
want to cry
grocery shopping’s
a continual sigh
staples out of whack
that’s why we’re cutting back

 

coffee at starbucks
is a special event
when it used to start the day
investments raise questions
about where they went
their statements cause for dismay
the thought of vacation
is instantly quashed
as spendthrift and elegiac
a change of location
is quickly kiboshed
because we are cutting back

 

i still believe in butter
but won’t buy the high-priced spread
champagne makes my heart flutter
but i drink sparkling wine instead
even friends who are wealthy
with little that they lack
are finding thrift is healthy
they’re also cutting back

 

financial cycles
do come around
we might see good times again
but i guess pinching pennies
and cinching up belts
will have to suffice ‘til then

i’m usually cheerful
and times when i’m tearful
i treat like an amnesiac
but my strong optimism
now refracts through the prism
of constantly cutting back