Apr 25, 2009


five cigarettes
for drawing upon iced tea
with nothing much to say
but that i am afraid

of swimming under ice
that the pens are spent
what is there
but to guess

to fail as postscript
is not scripture
but to sit rapt
is its own rapture

o light a match for us
no matter how bright the night










if it were not beautiful
the true
you would not believe it










thirty days hath september
some have thirty-one
the lunar day lasts as long
as february
the martian of winter pitted
gainst the venusian sprig









spread out over days
what is a sonnet
if not impeccable
as haiku--

burn the bodies twice
springing storm--


there is nothing to attack
there are dogs of more import--

spread out over decades
what is a son
if not remarkable
as a fool.










"I'm looking for work."
"What can you do?"
"I can listen."









explaining a joke with a joke
reading is fun and mental
thru the looking glass
goes to fools amid the foolish
as tho there is metaphor in thorn
or in ever being born









Apr 24, 2009


hypocritical apathetic goddesses--
all but love hits the ground--
the gods all but kindness discern--
analytical embryonic slaughterhouses--
in which spring is all but a word.









Apr 18, 2009


what is civilisation, but poetry
spilled upon the lip of darkness;
what is darkness, but sense of thought;
what is light, but to be imagined
lost; what is space unmoving but moving
void as held as unheld moving thru;
what is a bullet, but a tree;
what is a root, but fate at war
with fate; what is war, but cast;
what is peace, but deceit;
what is love, but brutality;
what is kindness, but necessity;
what is need, but hunger;
what sates death, but your kiss?










vice versa, twice.









pen; paper.
lhigt; music.










dent deckard was no artist-- not to say he was cartoonish-- there's illustrious and there's buffoonish-- and there's dignity in hollyoak and knots-- and all of science fire-- and all is god of song.










tadpoles swarm--
one breaks away--

one joins again--