Thursday, September 22, 2016

Eyebrows of a Dog

. . . and it was then that I realized he was my equal. 

He knew it and I knew it, yet there I was, drunk, drinking whiskey and eating bits of salami and cheese and throwing him the occasional morsel like I was Henry the 8th or some shit when really I was just another drunken asshole with a dog who loves him and looks up at you thinking, "Really? Again?" 

George Carlin was right, it's their eyebrows that get you.

(stream of consciousness while reading 'Post Office' by Bukowski)

Ken Owen   Van Niddy Press   August 2016

Friday, September 16, 2016

Summer Haiku

The Universe is
experiencing itself
through my consciousness.

Playful cat chasing
summer shadows, unaware
the hawk chases him.

Observing the fly
walk the blades of summer grass,
I feel like a god.

The Journey of Life:
stumbling between two dark holes
alone with reason.

Morning dew lingers
then hangs heavy in the air
spurned by listless clouds.


Fat woman snoring
across the aisle, a bad day
to forget headphones.

On awakening,
fat woman eats her Cheetos--
My diet starts today.

Son of Fat Woman:
reeks of smoke, saggy pants, hoody.
We do not judge...much.

Full figured woman
losing gravity's challenge,
I wish her good luck.

-Amtrak, Fremont to Sacramento


Ken Owen   Van Niddy Press   Summer 2016