The E.T. students have been spotted along the Ohio River

I’ve heard that some extraterrestrial anthropology students have been spotted along the Ohio River. I think that tomorrow they may try to distribute their currency objects. If you see one, I recommend that you hold onto the book. It might be valuable in the future. They seem to have developed a friendship with a FedEx guy… Not sure what that means, but watch carefully tomorrow. Although I should be careful, I guess, because the last time I made an announcement it got stuck in Aruba…



    The yearly “April is poetry month” promotion is only for DEAD OR ACADEMIC POETS, or for Shakespeare, of course, or for obedience to recommendations from the chic sheep, or the nouveau riche, all with a splash of gutter rants, and unfolded trash with lemons.
    Maybe before the end of April, I can qualify for the dead poets category. But I think that just like a “going-out-of-business” sale, you need a license from the government to show it’s legitimate. I’m not sure how difficult it is for a poltergeist to fill out the papers and provide the applicable fees. But at that point I don’t think it will matter to me.



POETRY e-book

The Murder of Asperger’s Last Poet: The Poetry Legacy

Available on Amazon, ISBN: 978-1-312-94214-1

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— Douglas Gilbert

Stupid Children

You damn stupid children,
what have you done to paper records.
You’ve become the excrement
of the horses you’ve replaced
with galloping data computers

Idiots! There’s a power failure
and I’ve been to the bank for
a life and death monetary event

The machine can not do
its duty

The Lady says
their computers are down

The city has a power failure

So I can not make
a nuanced withdrawal
within the limits of bureaucracy

You goddamn stupid children
I have money to move
and bills to pay
under the radar

and I am honest
and honorable, but
there are no humans
to talk to.

What have you done.
You ask me to prove
I have heart, and
I can read a trope

I can not
prove I’m human
on a computer

Sometimes I can not
read your jumble text
not because I’m a computer,
but because you children
are without sense
or morals of
any kind

You damn stupid children,
you have destroyed civilization,
because you can not write
a sentence on physical paper

and you think a t-shirt
is a chic shirt of mine, though

it could be, because
I don’t mind being casual

I just mind being obvious

Twitter Shorts

Twitter Shorts

He waits for the sage to bring a Rosemary day
but she comes alone with thyme on her hands
like mints on a pillow’s
complementary duo

There is no soul in a word:
many whispers in a life to write
not here to be brief. Gone fishing
with bated breath

She’s burnt
Barbie cues

I’d prove my loneliness
by telling you who I am
without peer
peering out a twinkle
distant, too far to touch
but you’d wise crack in time

verse averse still,
still she has a rhythm
a poetry-akilter giggle
that tickles the universe

influence is
supposed to be
when from the well

hope hops, hopping mad
when M.A.D. schemes spill out
and these mopes unmopped are
like melted chocolate bunnies

Medium Sands

Medium Sands

Special Edition

Medium Sands

They say to start with small talk
but if at all I’m doomed to be
a large talker unheard of,
a catcher in the why mode
with wry bread crusted

I would love a day
to be silly with life,
to be a real giggle,
to be known for

a warm sensuous joke felt like a breeze,
like a warm day, like sunshine,
like a simple smile,
a satisfaction of a real existence

a whisper with you in love