Monday, March 5, 2018

The Second Syllable is "Vice," After All

I have some advice for you.
Actually--no, no I don't.
I suppressed it. What a relief
for both of us I think you will
agree. Advice is well intended

only 6% of the time, well
received 3%. As to its
efficacy, that would be
lower than 3%. It's mostly
old news, bad memory, a

control-tactic, a hunk of blather,
or just plain wrong.  I just advised
myself not to give advice unless asked,
and even then . . . .I'm taking
my advice. Someone has to.


hans ostrom 2018

Notebook Problems

He flipped through his notebook
til he found a blank page.
Before he could write on it,
words materialized by themselves:

Your are very far away
from where you ought to be.
The truth of this statement
deflated him. He waited

for more words to appear. Some
did: Turn the page now, and write. 


hans ostrom 2018

Blood Estuaries

Blood estuaries, the slaughter arts,
and radioactive crania of psychotic
power-addicts all have me a bit on
ledge. Industrial Whiteness

sells bigot spigots, 90 days
same as cash. Keep the hatred
flowing is their slogan. A
certain segment of the public

weaponizes Jesus and beats up
people who know facts.
Dictators proliferate worldwide
like syphilis chancres.

Ignorance is tidal.
Civilization's suicidal.


hans ostrom 2018

Friday, February 23, 2018

A Visit to the Sun Building

Why are you here? asked
the moon people in the sun building.
By mistake, I replied, adding,
Anyway, hello. They said

if I were to stay,
I would have to conform.
A tempting offer. But no,
for I saw there already

things that rankled. After
my departure, I walked
under invisible stars
and put money in the cardboard
coffer of a street musician
who sang of asteroids.


hans ostrom 2018

Monday, February 19, 2018

Miffle's Expanding Tardiness

Miffle asked Lubi what time it was.
Lubi said, "It's the eternal present
of an expanding universe." Krokson

interrupted the two. He said,
"Actually, it's about five minutes
after the eternal present of an

expanding universe." "Oh,
Hell," said Miffle, "in that
case, I'm late!" "For what?"

asked Lubi. "I don't know,"
replied Miffle. Krokson said,
"That's unfortunate--for now

your tardiness may expand not
unlike the universe.



hans ostrom 2018

Wednesday, February 14, 2018

At Motel Depression

At Motel Depression, you're just not interested.
You recall what being interested is like,
but it's a proper tall hotel in another part of town.

Best not to strain against the circumstances.
See the salt-and-pepper screen of the broken
TV. Guess the age of the smelly drapes.

Toss your clothes on the embattled chair.
The painting is a kind of punishment.
No moaning, no wailing, please:

the walls are thin. Keep the sheets
between you and the blankets. There's
a good chance you'll check out tomorrow.


hans ostrom 2018

Monday, February 12, 2018

Facts and Oxygen

We need a system.
We need a Boris or a Jean.
We don't need a judge,
but we do need a day with a
stream in it.
We need facts like we need
oxygen: no substitutes.


hans ostrom 2018

Friday, February 9, 2018

Cigar Smoke is Thick and Blue

"Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar."

--psychiatrist Allen Wheelis (1950), who credited the statement to Freud


Sometimes a cigar
isn't a cigar, such as after
it's been smoked
and the remaining brown wad
has gone away.

Then the cigar
becomes particles
as well as neural bits
of cigar-likenesses,
or a word in a story
about that one night
and its cigars.



hans ostrom 2018

Concerning Cricket

A Cubist concoction of layered planes,
seems cricket. A match progresses
in a stiff-legged imperial ballet
with yachting costumes. Scoring

is prolific, as with stock markets.
There are slap-bats and wee wooden
sticks--quite droll. Cricket is so
very, very something, far afield

from clarity but highly ordered,
bright and secretive. Sedate, surreal.




hans ostrom 2018

Tuesday, February 6, 2018

Eye Doctor

Asked to read lines of letters and numbers projected
on a wall, my eyes confuse G with O and 2 with Z.

The doctor puts large drops of rain in my eyes,
and my eyes get stoned.

He puts a contraption on his head. To my eyes,
it makes him look like a cyborg ant-eater.

A gentle torturer, he shines bright light behind
my eyeballs, and I feel like I'm in a movie from 1971.

He tells me I have "divergence inconsistency"--one
eyeball's a lazy focuser, or is on a work slow-down.

When the doctor giggles, he sounds like Jim Backus
as Mr. Magoo. My ears see the humor in this.


hans ostrom 2018


Wednesday, January 31, 2018

Angel with a Punch

I met a counter-punching angel.
She didn't strike with fists and kicks.

Glances delivered her rebukes.
So too did words full of biting angel wit.

Her effect on her targets is conclusive.
I myself felt like giving up on petty

pretense and posing pride, and at
that instant the angel's smile spread wide.


hans ostrom 2018

Monday, January 29, 2018

Semi-Descript Suburb Somewhere

In a semi-descript suburb somewhere,
people believe in Counting Your Blessings
and First World Problems. Some
even get the idea of privilege.

But hedges there become overstuffed
couches. Rain hardens into visual
static. Before people go to work
elsewhere each day, they lie down

on lawns and gnash their teeth
and lash their consciences with
shaming pep-talks. The contents
of one house there rarely

interacts with those of another
house, and this include people.
Everyone's regrets pile up, become
invisible drifts that never melt.


hans ostrom 2018

Another Last Page

Here we are at another
last page. No need

to revisit what's
previous. It's just a

last page, not the end
of books. Open

the drapes. See what's up
out there with light.


hans ostrom 2018