Carl Macki is a poet and artist living in Marin County, California. He was born in Chicago and moved to the SF Bay Area in his thirties. He lives with his lifelong mate, Sandra Thurston and their son, Charles.

Nothing Burger, by John Tischer

One side fits all.

Ran out of track

in a cul-de-sac…

handsome ransom…

Behold a pale,

dead horse;

beat it.

Oh! la-dee-da!

Oh! Nothing burger!

And, if the world ends,

no one there to care!

Even pyramids a cosmic

stitch in the Matrix!

Not all discos and fashion shows!

Ozymandias!

Who first thought: “eternity”

“infinity”?

The first that didn’t live it?

What does it mean to just be?

Can you let it be?

“Be what? “

See what I mean?

If you wait long enough,

everything happens, so,

trying to create

a perfect state

is already too late.

Yes, a whole lot ‘o shaking

going on, and not much else.

Shake it up,

shake and bake,

pyramids icing on the cake

of a nothing burger.

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I Can See Clearly Now

By John Tischer

I can see Hillary right now:
“If I ever get my hands on
that damned butterfly!”
hallucinating M&M’s as she
pours another glass of
Chardonnay…sparks and
the smell of burnt insulation…

drunk Mario World surrounded
by kaiso blocks…Martha and
the Vandellas; nowhere to run.
What would Jesus say? “Yeah,
I’m coming back…I’m the only
Savior that can use his hand
as a fucking whistle!!” (Sam)
I don’t think so.
Light is natural optimism…
deep dark depression…
elaborate circling helpless legions?
Final fairytale conceptual enterprise:

“Everything’s clear
when you’re cornered.” (Trungpa)

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