Party Animal! Me?


I’m a fairly sociable guy in limited circumstances – let me do front of house for your spoke-word show & I’m in my element greeting people, chatting. Put me in a workshop situation & I’m pretty comfortable as well. Structure is key, I guess, for my comfort level.


Sit me at a table for a conference banquet & I’m probably the one with the least to say. I can strike up a conversation about the conference easily enough but that’s about it. People ask me things that I’ve talk about so much on my blog or in my writing that I’m really keen to go on & on about them. Talk to me about blogging & hey we can have a conversation.


But put me in a room of people in a house party & after about an hour I’m ready to flee. Conversations about me quickly turn into conversations about them. People ask me what I’m doing only to go on about how they are doing, wishing me well & moving on to someone else to tell the same things too. Sometimes they even come back to me starting to retell what they’ve told me.


I’m also not easy to draw into conversations about matters of topical interest – cats, dogs, children. Gay marriage – when I move that into the arena of assimilation vs acceptance they aren’t interested. Movies – I don’t go. Cult movies: hey I know about that but if they don’t know who Tura Satana is or know nothing about Russ Meyers & consider Donnie Darko a cult movie then we’re not talking the same language.

So I’m not a party animal. I strive to be interesting enough that I’m the guy you wish had stayed longer.


Angel Spoons

angel spoons

tap the soles of my feet

the spoons have stirred coffee

they are warm and sweet

the sugar flows up through me

sings a little song

under every word I speak

gives them a little tingle

of the dance of the clouds

of the java of hava a good day

hava a good time

become a friend of mine

as we can dance together

as angel spoons play

the way we see the world

the still   the twirled

the rapid   the desired

the quick of fire

sleek of steam cup

the licorice tango tangle

that wraps us black and red

on and off the bed

the zig zag zip that locks us

into a cascading tinkle of spoons

on the roof of our mouths

dangles off the eaves of the night

trapping and romancing

the streetlight

the ginger cat fragrance

of fresh brewed mood

the moon reflects so small

off the golden toe nails

of the jangling moments

angel spoons echo

through the time left

to get from the night to the day

they giggle with play

insinuate into the silence

with their small silver chime

I hear that faint near jingle

reflect darting glints

over the faces of the dancing people

suspended inches over the ground

swirling twirling shirts shirts

fleshy fragrant

breathing revolving

the happy tappy grace

angel spoons nudge us in circles

like coffee

warm sweet

wishing the well to one and all

sprawling calling

recalling the tickle in the blood

that means prayers have been answered

our soaring spirits aren’t sore footed

from glancing off the sun

to bridge the gap between

the tinkle and the ear

the click strum of spoons

on the palm

carries a message

drapes us back into the endless fold

where we can enjoy

angel spoons

tapping on the soles of our feet


Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy coffee  – sweet,eh?

Like my pictures? I post lots on Tumblr


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