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Wind Until Dust

Posted by PeteK on May 26, 2016 at 11:15 PM Comments comments (0)

I couldn't see past that cloud,

that dust storm―underneath it there was nothing

I could call my own. Whatever was there was for others.

When the dust came, the obliteration

was the only vision of home I had―of nothing owned,

of nothing abandoned.

After all, those are the things which measure a life.


The One Man Show was salient,

but I'm so tired now―that show can go dark,

still, it was okay to have be...

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Moments Are Idyllic

Posted by PeteK on April 12, 2016 at 12:20 AM Comments comments (0)



it was a silly rumpled straw hat for summer

with a ribbon and a bow

worn by a still young woman in the breeze

on her way to Union Square Park

Taking the F Train in a snug linen blouse and dungarees

somewhere between cocktails at the Brevoort

on lower 5th Avenue and too much coffee anywhere

because moments are idyllic

Life is speed and affected exits

singing and self-talking like a transformation


Posted by PeteK on December 30, 2014 at 8:00 AM Comments comments (1)

the first time in ten months

it's almost freezing

almost a matter of opinion

almost the new year the ground

is always hard

only fissures between the rock inviting

inviting as death is inviting

inviting and yet no plan and no open door-the sum of

our choices says the conventional

the way we decide to move into

the indecipherable emptiness the

indecipherable untenanted howollowness the detention

that separation is the detai...

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It's None of my Business, a villanelle for Ed Bode

Posted by PeteK on August 11, 2014 at 4:10 PM Comments comments (1)

A plane without wings

with its hope and imagination—there is nothing here to repossess

Motionless as a car with no engine

Genuflecting on low-down knees

That’s because we grasp at advice over our own thought process

A plane without wings

A mossback’s hatred that gnashes teeth and clings

The virago cheated us at cards, and at last, no final caress

Motionless as a car with no engine

How s...

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Longing For Guy Lombardo

Posted by PeteK on July 27, 2014 at 3:35 AM Comments comments (0)


Deliberately shutting out and shutting down, Stonewalling,




4 Years


Yeah. I’m gonna miss that. Bei mir bistu shein.


In the meantime downgrading yourself to an option.

I never felt that way about you. Bei mir bistu shein.


About me,

I am free, an electron, an elementary particle, never where you expect it. I come...

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Posted by PeteK on June 7, 2014 at 9:25 PM Comments comments (0)

Freedom is painful. I'm free—I live my life

for myself, on my own terms,

and every day

I choose freedom over the cage of comfort and convenience.

It's my own anti-metaphysics that joins forces

with the world to remind me, daily,

that I would rather be a success on my terms,

and be poor and thought of as a failure,

than to conform with the boorish, the eager go-getter trolls,

the provincial troglodytes,

and be part of

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Posted by PeteK on May 30, 2014 at 2:35 AM Comments comments (2)

It wasn't a Pyrrhic victory


Not a victory at all


Not a loss or a stalemate, just windless,


just doldrums,


just a loathsome enhancement of the status quo.


Not quite like death, but That's life, kid, which isn't


something ever said by the living,


unless they've bled out and inherited the earth that way.


I prefer the Pyrrhic victory,


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Summerlin Nevada

Posted by PeteK on January 14, 2012 at 4:35 AM Comments comments (1)



για τον καθηγητή Κωνσταντίνο

“I am so clever that sometimes I don't understand a single word of what I am saying.” Oscar Wilde

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In Newport

Posted by PeteK on October 11, 2011 at 4:10 AM Comments comments (2)

The Cadence sailed in the race that year,

the syncopation in a

clash, the reflection of the sails in the water

pre-psychedelic, warm, sun drenched, the smell of hot beach sand and hotdogs,

candy necklaces

The America's Cup won by the crew of 


So much began for all of us that day, 

it's staggering


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Comic Book

Posted by PeteK on October 8, 2011 at 1:35 PM Comments comments (0)


If you can have Drowning Girl you can elevate the pot head. Anita O'day was high on stage in Newport in 1958. Everybody was high and fucking.

we're still high and fucking. The late fifties hipsters brought us the hippies, the 60's brought us Punk. Sure―if the white girl is gonna dance with the black guy, then the black girl will play vibraphone with the white guy―our collective ecstasy

will transition likewise into


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