Thursday, February 17, 2022

 Published in Cathexis Northwest Press, Jan.2022 with a recording of the poem.

Loki Ponders Viennese Wisdom

Loki briefly skims

the paperback (meme-bright) Freud, but even

with that he begins an after-dinner chat.


Loki swims in said chatter

to map the Id to the root Mind -

the Pristine Primordial consciousness.


The coke-conflicted patriarch declines,

looking into humanity

through his sugar-addictions.


Loki’s concluded the Sachertorte

needs must be seasoned by,

oh, I don’t know, mama ayahuasca?


But Loki just looks for laughs

as though a chuckle could replace

the wave’s hunger to be the sea.


(On a more serious note,

Loki can’t find the melody anymore.

He’s unaware he and Freud are in assisted living.)


So, let’s say on today’s table, neither myths nor dreams

hold valid keywords; data upstages lore.

Both are jailed in the escape of all search engines.


So, the engineers are free to fall asleep,

dazed in hunger’s satiation,

glazed with a small bit of synecdoche.


So, in creation’s borderland we see what we are,

the cosmic dissociative identity disorder;

brandy and cigars.


Blinding, winding, out on a limb, what for?

Loki and Sigmund sittin’ in a tree…

Even business for monkeys is metaphor.



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