Niagara Falls and beyond



Push David in wheelchair
down to Horseshoe Falls
vista point

Broken rainbow!
Fatal rapids!

Blue skies

Stroll through gold light
Capillary shade of naked trees

Black squirrels

The river
Mutes impossible engine
of the mind

We disapprove
We approve

Cross Canadian Border headed for Toronto
“Do you realize that everybody
on this highway has health insurance?”

-MR November 13, 2009

The American Falls and bridge to Canada

Old Aqueduct?



Waiting for the tour trolley

Another view of the American Falls

David and Michael

The Black Squirrel of Niagara Falls

Ladybug finds David

David – Blagh 10

Terri says “Let the signage begin!”
it’s night
she’s driving along the motorway
out of Toronto heading towards Flint.

Monk playing “Just a Gigolo”
Marantha Church:
Knowing God Will Provide”

a ribbon of birds in flight
floating in the sky

The toilet at the Toronto petrol station
neatly writ on the wall:
“Graffiti Vandalism”

travel into & out of
the virtual liminal

Bubba Army
& Heil
truck tire flaps

“I’m sorry
you’re timed out”

shop sign:
“We Have Your Diamond”

“Uncork Paw Paw
A Village to Discover”


East Lansing Michigan


  1. Tisa Walden says:

    Transcendental Etude
    in shades of rainbow
    Niagra is truly falling
    I am painting paintings
    in shades of Lady Bug
    (– secret code tonight
    is “Un- complex”): . . .

  2. Madgalene says:

    Rockpile is winding up their historic cross-country tour and now that they’re getting closer to home again, I’m quite frankly feeling a little nervous about a couple things I’ve posted recently and well, I want there to be no misunderstanding. I said a couple things in not my last comment, but my comment before that, actually my remarks about the “Greased Pole” blog, that I thought I might want to clarify. Now, first about those cheesecake photos of Terri, I’ve been thinking about those a lot lately, and, of course, I mean no disrespect, it’s all good, but the more I think about them, well, you know, some people are concerned that the world is going to end in a couple years. Some people in fact have put a date on it–December 21, 2012, in fact. Well, I’m just trying to say that I would like to, but, perhaps, it’s better if in this context Michael does, but I’m not saying I don’t know if I really care who does it, but I certainly think it’s high time some one nominated Terri Carrion as the Cover Girl For the Apocalypse.

    Now, as for David Meltzer, there’s a couple things I better try to explain.

    Now as for the “Jazz Thing,” obviously, I conflated the titles of two of David’s books, “Beat Thing” and “Writing Jazz” and the reason I did that was because I was posting my blog at Peet’s (no unsolicited testimonial or product placement here, folks, just stating a fact) and the guy in the corner was talking to the head shrinker on his cellphone and I’m not gay or anything but he had this truly deep and sexy and hypnotic voice (and later when he got up to go to the men’s room he asked me to watch his computer and I was somewhat disappointed to realize that–well, let me put it this way. He’d be perfect for radio. Anyway…) and it’s not that what he was talking about was more interesting than what I was posting, or attempting to post to the Rockpile blog, because what could be more interesting than what I had to say about Rockpile or any other thing–excuse me, I meant to say what could be more interesting than Rockpile, but if Barry White was a honky, he’d talk like this guy (I mean it was a demonically seductive voice) and he was telling his headbanger about I don’t know if it was a dream or a business meeting how he was in the ring with Ali and Foreman and Frazier and Joe Louis and Primo Carneasada (or whatever his name was! Just kidding, and, don’t worry, I’m already making plans to apologize for that in my next posting since I obviously just offended at least two ethnicities and one or perhaps even two constituencies with that last remark!) and anyway Barry Cracker was in the ring be it dreamtime or fantasyland or the office with all these guys and they were just flailing away on him and I so wanted to say, “Dude, I hate to interrupt your conversation with the witch doctor (Jiminy, here I go again!) but I so want to tell you I can’t believe that you’re making these Classic Boxing metaphors while I’m posting to this guy who no fooling knew Chris and Angelo Dundee? I mean was like tight with the Dundees?” But how can you do that without invading Barry Peckerwood’s private space? And this on top of the fact that the barista was polite (again just stating facts) which that alone was about enough to shock my britches off! but add to that that she no fooling looked just like Joan Fontaine in blue jeans and I had just watched a Joan Fontaine movie the night before!!!!!!! No fooling, “The Bigamist” starring not only Joan Fontaine but Ida Lupino (you’re talking some high heat there, boys!) and Ida not only was working the bullet bra in that movie (and nobody could work a bullet bra like Ida Lupino! Ida Ida hot as hot apple cider!) but Ida directed the movie (and I like a strong woman! Now mind you, girls, I didn’t say dominant, dominating, domineering–I said a strong woman!) and Edmond O’Brien was in that movie in the title role of the Bigamist and I don’t know why but I’ve always liked Edmond O’Brien and I was biting my lip (not my tongue, my lip) not to say to the polite barista, “Has anyone ever told you you look like Joan Fontaine?” because who would believe for one minute that I wasn’t working it and of course she wouldn’t have ever heard of Joan Fontaine and I’d be in the embarrassing position of trying to explain that Joan Fontaine was an actress like 60-70 years ago, back when movies were in black and white, and I can hear the polite barista politely laughing at me and I bet even Barry Ofay would be laughing at this fool allowing he’d be listening in to my conversations as I had been his and I’d have put my foot in it again and I probably only would’ve made it worse if I tried to make it better like saying something like “Really, I’m a happily-married man and I’d never even think of trying to use such a corny line even if I was still single and in fact while I’d be lying if I said that Joan Fontaine wasn’t fine, that it was really her sister Olivia DeHavilland that did it for me” but these to my way of thinking are the intimate connections you sometimes feel to people, perfect strangers even, that are perhaps, after all, even in today’s “anything goes” world, better left unexpressed. But under the circumstances, in the heat of the moment, how could I not conflate the titles of two of David Meltzer’s great books, to wit, “Beat Thing” and “Writing Jazz” and come up with “Jazz Thing!” Jesus Christ! Thank God at least I didn’t call him “Jazz Bait!” Of course, I’m the same guy who when he takes a walk in the foothills, if there’s a dog patty within 100 miles of him, he’s going to stick his foot in it. But since I’m a poet, I mean that not literally, but metaphorically, of course. And no I never said Sonoma County sucks. First of all, I try very hard to avoid expletives if I can. Second, like just about anybody else who lives in Sonoma County, I can’t help waking up sometimes in the morning and thinking I’ve died and went to Heaven. I just said that Sonoma County REALLY sucks without Michael and Terri. I just want to be clear on that, and, so would any place else.

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