the novel

i must get back to the novel immediately
it will save me
it is the only thing that can save me
the place where i can be totally free
and enter the world of the imagination
and let it play out
the novel will heal me
if anything can
the novel will accept my love, my anger, my fear,
my wonder, my innocense
the novel will show me what the future can be
the novel will encourage me

9/21/9
early afternoon

naked dreary

out of bed but not awake sitting here half naked dreary outside see there are twitters in my emails i don't want to be bothered with them come to computer out of boredom things ain't right these days things ain't right how stupid it is for me to be blogging this crap but the blog screen is before me

poem

SOMEBODY HAS TO DO NOTHING

somebody has to be dedicated to doing nothing
nothing at all
to get in touch with nothing
the huge void of the universe
somebody has to sit and think
wonder fear worry fall into ecstatic states
pass endless hours imagining
fantasizing
somebody has to live in a world of pure sexual
pleasure
somebody has to study read literature
commune with the greatest of minds from
across the ages and cultures
someone has to feel this terrible angst
feel this terrible need that can never ever be satisfied
and not hide from it
not hide from the truth that we are a measly species
a species only an extension of the lower animals
and plant life
not far from the caves
yearning to be something perhaps something
beautiful and perfect in the future
somebody has to lead the family
give their sons and daughters this guidance
teach them the light through the darkness
or the dark through the light
either way
an endless investigation into the nature of things
somebody has to hate what's happening around us
somebody has to have the guts to be alone
not to waste time
not to piss away this precious
life


rich quatrone
20aug09
spring lake

I'm a Yogi

Wisdom--

"When you get to the fork in the road, take it."

--Yogi Berra

a hog in the fog

well, i'm back, hood over my head, back from the market, i come to this blog like a hog in a fog, a bog dog, a crow in the snow, an ant in a pant, a cat who got fat, i am here, fear, tear, smear, clear, dear, sheer boredom has me here, sheer inertia, sheer stockings, a gear in reverse, avoiding the hearse, i am here, looking, cooking, bearly that, barely that, naked, a snake on the take, a fake, i have eaten too much cake, for the sake of indolence, depression, regression, i am here lost in the genes, in the genies, the genius, the jeans, the beans, i am here for want, for grant, for sand and an idle hand

THE MIGHTY SWING


i sit here with these words on this computer screen
which has taken every breath from me over these years,
taken my fury, my indignation, my sorrow,
taken my semen and spit and eyesight and accompanied
the fluttering of my heart, what is it that has me prisoner here
while all my heroes die, while mickey mantle's fading new york
times photo pinned to the wall, his mighty swing, home run
or strike out the same, his mighty, brave swing is the poem
of my youth and today the same, my swing, is it a swing,
is what i do a swing equal to the mick's swing, what is it
that has me watching the yankees this year, game for game,
a driven man, crazed with attention, what is it that has me
dreaming my way into the stadium, the olympians here for me,
what is it that joins me with my father and my brother and
my sons, with all the men like me, lost, fatigued, defeated,
sick with the mists of despair, in some fantasy of love,
of desire, making love to the great woman or the worst woman,
the submission to sex and hope, what it is that has me
like this?

rich quatrone
6:35am
another morning
in spring lake
8/5/9

never return

it's still sept 16 a bad day for me is anyone out there listening who knows i made this blog at the behest of my first teacher i'm here and realize i've told you my name so already i've limited what i will say in this space anonymity provides freedom my mind and imagination are too free for most people and places i have a rich imagination a great spirit and i will say what i can here but truly if i say all i can i will invite attacks and i will lose what little i now have it's the way it's always been because in the end i've never had the courage or the foundation to somehow break out of the small world into one large enough to accept my genius and those of you who turn off now can leave this blog and never return

sept 16th

sept 16th

the first day of the world at the end of days i get older than humanly possible even blake is younger than i am the last day of the young world no time for error the first day of time there was a time when i didn't know any better the last day of love love in the old world was beautiful the first day of endless effort the body broken the mind fading the books waiting the novel waiting my sons starting their own world the last days in a dying america a dying town a dying body a dying love the first day of making things from nothing st thomas did it so can i