Thirty beggars and thirty whores
on every corner-- What do you spend 
 
                  on advertising?
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

That fine line between genius and insanity--
Do you know what that line is?
 
                        Understanding.
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ill-lit-wit

Who better
to make axiomatic
that literacy
remain inactive?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
And We Call This Gun Hi, Bob
 
 
Yes, hello. I'm calling to place an order 
for some moo-goo-- for some moo-goo-- This 
isn't That Chinese Place. You, you say this 
is the number to Free Advice for Writing 
Better Poetry According to the Manual Which 
Has Been Passed Down to Us for the Greater 
Good of-- What, what was that? The Greater 
Good of All. That's quite a name. The FA-
FWBPATTMWHBPDTUFTGGOA for, for short. And, 
and whom do I have the honor of speaking to, 
at the FAFWB-- at the Free Advice for All? 
You say you've recently changed your name. 
What, what was it-- From Dr. Meng-- Oh, yes-- 
Well, yes-- Changing that to something less 
offen-- Now your name is Himmler. Well,
I hope, I hope that works out for you. So,
there's no moo-goo-- No. What, what kind
of advice do you usually give? Poetic. 
You give poetic advice. Your advice rhymes?
Sometimes. You, you give advice on poetry.
I should, I should read a hundred thousand 
poems before I ever write a line. Is, is 
there a list? There's a list. No, no-- 
Well, do TV jingles count? Most children 
see 50000 thirty-second commercials a year.
Well, many of them contain lyric. Those,
those don't count. And modern music? No,
no go. No moo-goo and no go. You kindly
advocate metered verse. Why, why metered?
It's what came first. You don't, you don't 
think that's a little pedantic? We're, we're 
all an hour past the dawn of literacy--
That egg has hatched and shat. Just, just 
you. What, what do you think of semiotics? 
What, what do I mean by semiotics? Allow, 
allow me to illustrate. No, don't hang up.
Allow me to think aloud. A piece, a piece
of high-calibre human thought, be it art 
or science, is already known by its reper--
repercussions. Its signature. By virtue
of its being high-calibre. How many vari-
ations of Hamlet have I already seen, never
having read Hamlet? Well, no-- I've read 
Joyce. If you see Kaye. None of those count. 
They are not on the list. They are not 
in the manual. Well. Sudoku. I said Sudoku. 
Metered verse. No. As in, no better than. 
Still there? I thought, I thought the line
was dead. What other advice do you give?
Put aside, put aside poems for up to five 
years before revising. You actua-- You, 
you do. That only just seems patently wrong. 
This, this problem is too hard. I, I know!
I'll solve it by not doing it, not thinking 
about it-- I'll sculpt the same way. Why,
nothing but dried lumps of clay. At least,
they'll be concrete? Oh-- Rarely, if ever,
use abstraction. More advice? But language
is abstraction. Run, concrete dog, run. 
Not abstract? All of thought is abstract. 
Eyes closed conception. There are levels
of removal. Modes, types and paradigms. 
Toads in the sub-sublime. What? Was that, 
was that a non sequitur? All art bases itself
upon history, you say. And I, I say history 
is ever medias in res. Oh. Writing is appro-
priation, and one, one can not appropriate 
what does not historically exist. Oh. Oh!
You advocate splicing cliche, with cliche!
Old metaphor brought up-to-date. Yester-
year's movie remade. You call that writing? 
You, you do. Anything else? Poetry lives
or dies on its own merit. Well, well that, 
that I think I agree with. Mostly. Except, 
poems aren't living things. They are words.
A reader lives or dies on their own merit.
All readers deserve to die. Oh, ok? Good.
Good, goodby-- 
 
 
   --He-hello? Oh, yes-- Hello, Mr. Lincoln. 
Yes, Abe, we've talked before. No, Abe. Abe! 
I really, really don't want to speak to Hitler. 
Yes, Abe-- I know every, I know everyone's 
dressed as a woman. Abe? Abe, are there, are 
there any real women there? I, I see. Good, 
goodbye now, Abe. Yes, Abe-- Moo, moo-goo, 
moo-goo goodbye to you, too.
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

skyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskysky
kyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskys
yskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskysk
skyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskysky
kyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskys
yskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskysk
skyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskysky
kyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskyskys
horizonhorizonhorizonhorizonhorisunhorizon
seaseaseaseaseaseaseaseaseaseaseaseaseasea
easeaseaseaseaseaseaseaseaseaseaseaseaseas
aseaseaseaseaseaseaseaseaseaseaseaseasease
seaseaseaseaseaseaseaseaseaseaseaseaseasea
easeaseaseaseaseaseaseaseaseaseaseaseaseas
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As God is my editor
and Satan my agent;
as this world's throat
is cut and sealed;
as I am that Buddha
that I have killed;
as eternity tertiary
to any moment, prime;
as all is age, subatomic--
this long evening
falls to tide.


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Invisible Sweater

Wit knits wet knots
with or without
unsuitable weather.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Her inner thighs were ever-tensed
and the mayflies out too early.
His eyes were slits, both laughters quiet
and her hair bouqueted with jasmine.
They left the campfire for better cover
and that cover soon abandoned
for her car, windows half-rolled down
that both be obliquely struck
by the violence come as misting.

And his hands were talons at her breast
and at her sex, and then her throat.
And she came upon her little death
and also her truest; and he within hers--
So are undoings done: with accidental purpose.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

        ac
        bo
        sn
        tc
        rr
        ae
  abstract
  concrete
 
 
     c   c
     o   o
     nc  n
     co  c
     rn  r
     ec  e
  abstract
     ee oe
      t n
      e c
        r
        e
        t
        e
 
 
        a
  a  a  b
  b  b  s
  s  sa t
  t  tb r
  r  rs a
  a  at c
  concrete
  t  ta
      c
      t
 
 
      a
      b
      s
  constract
      r
      e
      t
      e
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If you've three or four degrees,
yet simple fact checking escapes you
(the 20th century's highest selling author
was -not- Theodore Geisel; Wisconsin
is -not- the most obese state)--

If critical arguments consist equally
of regurgitative appeals to your own authority,
functional illiteracy and cock-eyed
belligerency, yet your own work
is a lifetime of study in adoxography--

If fucking were poetry and your hand
were a poem (and you believe the clap
is any sound you make) yet you still
haven't gotten noetically laid--

Allow me to show you to your table.
Today's specials are smarter than thee.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As you must
recognise that you are not
my enemy
(if to retain any claim

of intelligence
or intellectual honesty)
so it follows
you must also

(as you automatically
and semi-consciously
tabulate
the varietal minutiae

you abhor) recognise
that I am yours.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

oommmnmnmnononmnmn moon oommmnmnonmnmnommm
nmoonmnonnmomnommmnm moon nmoonmnnmomnooon
nnoonmnmomnomnomnnn moon nnoonmnmoommnmnmn
onmonmnomoomnmonm moon nonmonmnoonmnonmonm
mnnmonmnmmnmnmnnono moon momommnnonnmnonmn
omommnonmnnonmmmnnonon moon nnonmmmnmonmno
mnmoonoomnmonmnmmno moon ommmnmnonmnoonmnm
mnoonmnnmomnomnon moon mnmnmoonmnnmomnonmn
mnmnmonmnmmnmonnomon moon noonmnmoommonmno
oommnmmmnmnonommoonnmm moon nmnoonmnoonmnm
mnnmonmnoonmnonmmnoom moon omommnnonnmnonm
omommmnmnonmnmmnoomo moon nonnnonmmmnoonmn
mnnonmnmmnmonnmnnnoomo moon mommnnonnmonmn
omommonmnnmnnmnoonnono moon nnnonmmmnmnonm
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hyperroses are RED
Ultraviolets are BLUE
Neotame is SWEET
JUST as SWEET as YOU

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The alizarine Rosa
and lazuline Viola
as odiferous odorata
dulcorate non grata.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

        rose rose rose 
     rose rose rose rose 
         rose rose rose 
      rose rose violet 
         violet as 
          sugar for
              you
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Your roses roseate;
your violets viol--
unto NutraSweet
your saccharine's equal.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

with roses as rose as violets are violet--
sugar's tasteless to you as you are--
o 
                                    marionette
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Roses are (potentially) violent;
violets genuinely peaceful--
should you choose to chew either,
roses (thorned) bleed sweeter.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Roses, red roses inviolate
and the bluest blue of violets
sway with knowledge and wisdom
as cocktail and condiment.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If roses were blue;
If violets were red;
If sugar were you,
Sweet'd be Death.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

roses are red (duh.)
violets are blue (ooh~)
sugar is sweet (eat...)
and so are you (ew!)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

seas reorder
over a blue islet
asses urge wit
and so do you

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

red is a rose
blue, a violet
sweet is sugar
you, diabetic

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

in the sideyard
some summer
of unmowed grass
there was a man
who stood watching
from the walk

who gestured
that i come near
who simply said:
i fought
on the wrong side
in the war

i did not know
and i am not sure
even today
what was meant
but know this
of forgiveness:

it is ignorant
and gentle
and absolute

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Howie Hitler, Mickey Mouse Superstar
(dead from the drying of a concrete brain)
will not retire until late next year
(his stink possibly gone the following May)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Section 4
 
1. Jews are forbidden to raise 
   the national flag 
   or display the national colors.
2. However, they are allowed to display 
   the Jewish colors. 
 
   The exercise of this right 
   is protected by the State.
 
 
Section 5
 
1. Anyone who disregards 
   Section 1 
   is liable to penal servitude.
2. Anyone who disregards the prohibition 
   of Section 2 
   will be punished with imprisonment 
   or penal servitude.
3. Anyone who disregards the provisions 
   of Sections 3 or 4 
   will be punished with imprisonment 
   up to one year 
   or with a fine, 
   or with one 
   of these penalties. 
  
   The exercise of this right 
   is protected by the State.
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rose is arid
violet air, blue-
swaggered in heat;
in solar roux.


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

as a terribly immanent, hourly reckoned, starborn-choired
light darkness qualifies inexactly, approaches writhing, roaring flowers

as a terribly immanent, hourly reckoned, starborn
light darkness qualifies inexactly, approaches writhing, roaring

as a terribly immanent, hourly reckoned
light darkness qualifies inexactly, approaches writhing

as a terribly immanent, hourly
light darkness qualifies inexactly, approaches

as a terribly immanent
light darkness qualifies inexactly

as a terribly
light darkness qualifies

as a
light, darkness

as
light

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Twenty stories up, 
the math of traffic 
is light-- ordinals
of worlds no longer 
virginal-- the sky
awash upon the net
of sight-- a design 
of far birds rises
to equal-- dark suns
rapid cast to lose
the time-- and you
return to the room
unswayed-- what is 
good and wise if not
glorious-- murder
succeeds a hangnail
not love-- love is 
a word of generic
currency-- the moon 
is swallowed anyway.  
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

dust snows and snow dusts

arrivals home

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

snow dusts ash--
the sun
warm as coal

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

time is a throat/
 
              language levity--
    abrogated yawns empower 
 
 morning/ 
      a terpsichoral sloughing of awe 
 
   & dew--
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Idiot,

ideas of perfection as a corpse
slabbed upon background noise
(that one may exquisitely emulate
love, which too dies) arrive
as butterfly fallen away
as auctioned morning light--

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

black man in a white house
white man in a black house

pine under midnight snow


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A is for Ambercorn
which feeds a race of angels
blind in a rain of light

B is for Beauty unbearable
broken into waters
these poplar take as wine

C is for Cassiopeia fallen
upon ephemeralities of mountain
each December hour

D is for Death divine

E is for Everything elsewhen--
a dataplex of futures
that then sinks beyond ken

F is for Fucking falsehood
which fills the caverns
of soul with somber stain

G is for Goodness uncertain
as a meal to a fly
upon wallpaper bouquet

H is for Holy human Hell

I is for I
which is idiocy in the context
of genius come as ocean bird

J is for Joy
the yell of stone in a well
a cat sigh, an impulse of flame

K is for Kings sensuous
and fat from Alberquerque
to Nepal

L is for Love of love

M is for Masquerade
of the fertile enmity (of the suns)
of butterfly and mind

N is for Nowt
notoriously untrue--
here is my foot

O is for Orgasm
more a shiver of contemplation
upon the taste of orange

P is for Pulchritude as etude

Q is for Quintessential
of which nothing is but contour
of disintegrating wave

R is for Resonance of rain
upon a snow iced upon a tarp
drawn over elm

S is for Sainthood
accidental and itself a curse
of little form

T is for Toward what I move

U is for Umber brushstrokes
of a memetic art
in a failure to seduce

V is for Volume voiced
in a marriage of whisper
pivoted upon coal

W is for White
which wisdom will never be--
it is nuclear blue

X is for Xero sufferance

Y is for You as mine

Z is for Zambercorn
which feeds a species of sorrow
sighted in a flood of night

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

little blessings
ballon
as the soul is the body
fluttering
over floorboards

as premonition
of what?--
despair and desire
as the common eternity
of days lithe

as crow
in winter sky
and i must
somehow perfectly say
love love

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
off-white the sky upon off-black trees
the field between 
a standing mottlement of yellow 
clay and green 
as redwings opine aloud of what it is to sing 
with voices that were
a harmonious scream of autonomy 
now
 
                                      a coal train 
                        two miles north moves west 
                a block east a semi thunders south
                        in the yard's shallow snow
                                   a rabbit pulled
                                             still
 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the plastic wrap of the stars tonight
holds; the houselights of the insomniacs
as scattered as; the ipod does not say
your name; the wind, o, so nearly so--

the delicate snow, a tease of lithe nails--
the world long numb within its sphere
of confluence; i scent hard at this cold
aftermath of you; yes, o, dark wisdoms--

whatever your want, o, i wish for you--
be it pity or praise; subtleties of dream
or stark awakening; madness or love--

or the bright fury of startled animals
lost within exquisite moonlessness--
the stars shiver-sunder, o, to breathe

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                    snowing
             slowly
                            bouquet
   upon
                         bouquet
                                    upon
              
          warmth
                          not
                              of
                     temperature
 but
 
                             silence
         ubiquitously
 
                                   
 
                    holy.
 
 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

How to out-zero zero:

Make a useless point.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

cold                   bright flakes move fiercely
bark                              bites into sound 
foal                         a history of elegance
plod         the slush that ponds upon cement caul
wasp                       worm and will will thaw
ward              children ill with age sane or no
less   than half of what you know you believe true
noon                           ever twins midnight 
deer                                           die
task                      the idiots of convention
moon           conceived then becomes newly mooned
mind                                    everything
keep                      vigilant and strike true
rest          when the least of great evils is you 
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

said the ocean to the moonlight, 
   what do you think of me?
 
  o, deceptively disappearing,
     not too much--
   you're as blue as beauty can be,
       but you never shut up.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

do what you think best-- 
if that means being moral 
in a secular world, 
or cruel in contrast 
of a saccharine one--
if it means discounting
reason itself, to hear
the rationale of noise--
if it means knives
are your eyes and eyes
strike the film of light--
if it means nothing 
but that you die--
may thought do it best.
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

may your death haiku
be perfect; personally,
i'm betting against--
not because i know
how saturated thoughts
of death crystallize--
they do; you have hope--
i'm betting against because
stupidity's dumb--
you've already died
singing songs of beauty bled--
meaning words of love--

incidentally--
i know to abhor myself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

my shadow
falls upon the mirror

my eyes close

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The prisoners dream of insects.
The chaplain speaks of sin.
The doctor reads of music.
The painter stinks of gin.
The salesman cries of nuance.
The fisherman pleads of shade.
The author hums of Portage.
The spinster spits of age.

The prisoners dream of insects.
The prison sighs of grace.
The angels scream of wisdom.
The winds imagine rain.

The prisoners dream of insects.
The heavens take up space.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He often thought of her as a Maserati,
not in how she looked, but in the way 
he'd look from her smile to her eyes.
 
I also considered the same, but only 
after her quiet telling, with her hair
loose and shadowcasting crow upon a snow
of linen yet to be sullied by warmth.
 
Maybe so, I said. I know your hands 
as doves of soap and stone; your thighs
as fields, that if followed, spring 
a bed of moss fed upon blood and bone.
  
Today, I say otherwise: mountain lakes,
her eyes; her smile, night in its kiss
of star. I am math. She is cold and far.
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

may the wine you do not drink
contain poison. may your spawn
be more blessed than you.
may your death be accidental.

may you never hear the truth
within insult. may your shit
house flies. may the love
you do not know destroy you.

may silence be your only virtue.
may the years bore your soul.
may you never suffer guilt
for the ill you will have done.

may every wish be granted.
may you remain a fool.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

in the heart, the battledrum
the elephant trot, the humpback waltz
the attic bat, the basement pump
the glitterblood, the moth falter
the errant suns that breach the snow
in the valleys of primal mountain
the owl psalm, the serpent swell
the true/false alarum, the field
with its bodies undetected, uncounted--
in the heart, imperfect weapons
of stone root, bone winds, water
accident, molt, chime and wisdom--
in the heart, eyes that steam
an unfinished moan of momentum

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

open teat
open sign 
open play
open real
open gone
open blue
open stay
open stop
open bang
open boom
open damn
open time
open food
open door
open joke
open pill
open over
open shit                             open life
open hole                             open eyes
open hair                             open them
open dare                             open pull
open noun                             open rite
open true                             open holy
open lamb                             open worm
open frog                             open bird
open mole                             open cold
open maps                             open spit
open glom                             open kill
open step                             open hang
open dust                             open dirt
open damp          open clay          open hail
open lake          open hell          open soul
open sake                             open bake
open book                             open fall
open june          open july          open hour
open math          open mile          open stem
open bulb                             open pink
open glow                             open bank
open four                             open loop
open eyes                             open life
open tang          open dead          open case
open fork          open link          open oven
open nope                             open open
open verb                             open ping
open hold          open west          open east
open good          open well          open sink
open pray                             open yard
open tree
open claw
open haha
open nono          open nose
open shoe          open lust
open love
open teal
open hate          open rice
open vein          open draw
open ward
open word
open dram
open mark
open look          open omni
open mega          open poly
open grab
open spot
open they          open scum
open soap          open quit
open fate
open harm
open barn
open lore                             open pyre
open trim                             open more
open piss          open puss          open less
open said          open weed          open seed
open shot                             open vile
                                      open exit
                                      open high
                                      open root
                                      open sigh
                                      open bead
                                      open beak
                   open meek          open roar
                   open huge          open care
                                      open calm
open rage                             open swim
open sage                             open safe
open hill          open bond
open tone          open song
open yell
open void                             open full
open make                             open trap
open cage                             open none
open lull                             open drab
                                      open deem
                   open rust          open like
                   open nike          open coke
                                      open mash
                                      open mush
                                      open lush
                                      open push
                   open ship 
open hurl          open scat
open crib
open jazz
open jizz
open pool
open till                             open bout
open mine          open roof          open wall
open help          open hurt          open pain
open grow                             open howl
open what                             open wait
open rest                             open nest
open bush                             open keep
open mask          open husk
open show          open stag
open tell
                                      open boar
                                      open monk
                                      open fire
                                      open fail
                                      open sell
                                      open lank
                                      open blow
                                      open veil
                                      open tail
                                      open murk
                                      open flag
open free                             open boil
open reed                             open dial
open moon                             open mars
open eros                             open skin
open mood                             open rain
open snow                             open stop
open salt                             open fish
open hook          open nail          open fang
open wasp          open fear          open limn
open taxi                             open seem
open quip                             open dime
open near                             open junk
open rake                             open make
open cafe                             open nile
open rile                             open flow
open loam                             open colt
open welp                             open baby
open yolk                             open vert
open mire                             open mare
open list                             open most
open from                             open foam
open true                             open girl
open flay                             open gush
open wood                             open lick
open kiss                             open suck
open show                             open lime
open peru                             open coin
open soft                             open hard
open fool                             open wise
open side                             open wide
open goat
open clam
open lose
open tool
open slam
open year          open date        
open plum          open milk
open bowl
open star
open late
open noon
open twin
open drag
                                      open pine
                                      open belt
                                      open hart
                                      open kilt
                                      open jolt
open tire                             open wire
open wear                             open sway
open womb                             open loom
open mule
open gyro
open dumb
open skin
open scar
open mink          open wink
open zest          open helm
open mill
open fill
                                      open here
                                      open molt
                                      open face
                   open left          open burn
                   open rand          open rife
                                      open will
                                      open rock
open cock
open ball
open knot
open slit
open slut          open liar
open slay          open fern
open very
open airy                             open lord
open gold                             open sand
open sail                             open lisp
                                      open line
                                      open fact
                   open neck
open heft          open tact
open poke
open vote                             open clit
open home                             open note
                                      open grub
                   open wish          open wail
open fang          open wile
open game
open fold                             open turn
                                      open card
open toke                             open rift
open manx
 
                   open mind
                   open teat

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the strangest thing--
  i woke one night to a rain so slight
    it rose as much as fell
   and hissed upon my clothes
     of fern and philosophy--
 i wandered in that half-moon light
   thru a wood itself a river
  and an unfinished cemetery
    innocent and pristine--
   the strangest thing--
  to find you with pale wings rent
    and soft mouth clever
   as your name bore the form
     of everything--
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As the source will not be returned to,
and the true ending never met--
As this day hews and heals like water,
and moment cast is buried stone--
As the hired gods take no notice,
and every lesser creature ravels soul--

My eyes weft clouds which dress you
as breath about your bones.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the simple interest 
of honest coherency, 
the fact of my love 
tangles as hair 
drawn and drowned 
in tar--
          And your eyes
the wash of turpentine, of gasoline--
          And your thought
the sawing shears, the scalpel's wake--
          And your fingers
crimson angels amid wet-black trees--
          And your own love
an indigo flame, a heavy steam.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the vast expanse
and expansion
of the grand and valid world,
amid the collectives
and colonies
of detritus and growth,
exist pearls of serendipity
and decadence
worthy of intimation,
tho I know that I know too few
of these vague
and vagrant pieces that adhere
as armour
to fall as youth.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

At peace with the fever, you sit
at the window until the world grows semi-transparent
with lividity-- You wish for falling stars
as darkness claims the slowed trees
to then feed you that mirage of yourself in the pane--
What does this mean--

Gods and goddesses do not move from point A.
What is not vanity, is grace.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On the stone with the Raphael cherub,
a robin sits and I smoke in sunlight,
windchill at ten below, four days shy
of Xmas, the ground yet without snow--

O. I know my life is wasted; that this
is proof I've sold my soul to beauty,
and she, as truth, is cold-- but that,
as I fold the left side of my jacket

over the right and exhale a glinting
smoke, is merely a context grown ripe
to know-- what fruit in its wet fire
will not rot, even if frozen? My love

is dry and slow; my thought is soft
and bold; my heart clamors unheard--
Here are my eyes, little bird: coal.
Here too, my immortal throat: dirt.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When I flew on my first airplane
all leather interior and many rooms,
at the allowance of the Prince,
I nervously did not know what to ask,
or how, I suppose, to even sit--
When his primary lawyer, a sallow-
skinned blend of Gere, Hoffman
and Walken, insinuated that "white
trash doesn't burn bright enough
by half" I only took silent note,
watching the Prince, and knew then
I'd kill them both, lawyer first,
and with neither blessing nor curse--
that bodies sprawling fall to sea.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

should i really beg you, look at me?

look at me, to see my mouth
and look at me, to know my eyes--
they are what i place upon you
and by you, they become wise.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This poem is minimally
an animal poem--
six darts
skim tesselations
to fall-flow
from trees to houses--

This poem is abruptly
a depiction of in-
accuracy and corruption--
six birds
in your mind become
your heart--

This poem is brutal
as the war
of winter forms
perfection--
six coals fly
dark flags of warmth--

This poem is violent
with misdirection--

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dear Poem--

You are retarded.
Dear Critic--

So are you.
Dear Reader--

I am forbid to say
what you are--

Et tu?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
    a
 poem
 deco
mpose
s wit
hin t
he wo
mb a 
knowi
ng se                                         r
ed-tr                                        ut
ee as                                       aba
 much                                       ga
leaf                                        rut
upon                                        aba
leaf                                        ga
as ro                                       por
ot tw                                       cin
ining                                       i s
 leav                                       qua
es an                                       sh
 anen                                       bez
ome o         you see you                   el
f thr          either wri                   bev
ee-di         te the cyni                   el
mensi         c the one w                   fry
onal          ho does not                   --
greed          live in fa
 stom         lse light t
ach-c         he failure 
enter         and the suc
ed an         cess at war
d ste          and you fe
eped          ed them swe
in pu         etmeats or 
tresc         else you do
ent r          nothing at
oyal           all and kn
green         ow yourself
--             as what th
              ey despise 
              an incarnat
              e lie--  
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Walk on down 
to Union 
Side, this side 
of Union 
Way, to witness-- 
 
    The Declarations of the Fellowship of Noise
                  Silent Alarms 
                        & 
      The Muffled Screams of Haunted Children 
 
                                    --there's a cover 
                                            which you 
                                      will not afford 
                                    but it's not like 
                                              anybody 
                                       actually pays.
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I'd love to talk  of great beginnings
but every hard seed  bitter countered 
by an egg  and what is not pulp  
if not brought to rot  may burn  
til all is frozen  What grand upheaval  
do you foresee-- intellect but a frame  
of river without ocean  emotion  
flawless  with calm uncertainty
 
So of what do I speak  with love-- 
names of shadows  reactive fuses
of flesh  and thought upon delusions
of saliency  What do I know to voice
but that design will end  as is 
no matter paradigm-- look at me
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

lighght?
wishdom--
 
prayery.
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
Bland as natural stupidity seasoned with learned ignorance,
she is; as clueless an amnesiac upon those old tropes of dark,
deserted winter roads as will ever; as a being of pale virtue,
her eyes spark bright with enlightened cruelties; as my love

I do not bleed to death-- her talons, yet to leave my heart;
she is not cursed-- my birth-voice, fallen-torn in her throat;
in sinuate echo, we complect-- marrow dreamt, is warmth.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Would like
 your body lit by a single candle flame.
Rain frozen upon the window. 
Electricity out. 
Would like the shy willow of your hair 
 to reach up just that once, 
 high as it would go, to then flower. 
Birds, I guess. Song.
 
Odds are, 
 it is only your heart which starves. 
May the light that captures you--
O, only the thought 
 of the light that will be lost
 is lost.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
Gold

killed my sister. She was zoned-out
near the end of the new line to the--

transmigrated. It happened on the day
of the Grand Penultimatum, when black--

laughter like wind. The cards went thru
and delphinium was the only scent you--

played incorrigibly. The exasperation
for half a muse, which, graciously, no--

drizzled the plant. Which surprised
the envoy, and she was unable to dis--

was the weather. Scales were the glass
of the towers as if each were a drag--

blistered truthfully. Metaphorically,
we slept but spiritually, wasted into--

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What depth, sayeth Death,
that I do not reach--
What skin of thought
do I refuse as form--
Well, here you are,
and for that--

Alone, you dream.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

steam-open   she'll 
shell love   steam open, 
             love
 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

no, dumbass-- it's all solid discussion;
you just want everyone subdued
with a certain uniformity of flair,
as your only job
is to self-congratulate,
giving the passing bland appearance
that you work for and toward
anyone else's good--

no dissenting opinion where you play,
but your own wankery's ok--
zombie nazi cheerleader, anyone?
(now there's a sick cliche
that exists
with very true reason.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the river of writing 
           with its banks of birds
      and fish of memory

disintegrates into air
           and only as rain
      falls into the sea

    so 
     throw down your oars
   no anchor here 
           need drop

    we 
     desert ourselves
   to the muck 
           of swamp
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

what was the sinking
i was thinking of
when i was sinking
into the sea
what was i doing when
i was drowning love
and love was dawning
over me

burning toast
drunk on whiskey
fat on roast
writing letters
from a noose
or no-- that's thee

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

browsing animals
at the root of the root
of decay,
regurgitate--

and then they browse away

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

holding hand to the wind
the wind

takes it away

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vectorise everyone--
posthaste.

The ceiling fan clocking
o' clock.

Fear is a mousehole.
Fear is a mouse.

Without house.
Nose and tail and mouth.

Scorpion claw of the scorpion.
Claw of the cat afoot.

What is my failure and where is my grief?
Yes, of course it's incomplete.

Machinery of ragged claw
as scenery.

Every articulation, brief.
A man of God is an idol

and an acolyte at sophistry.
Like Christ, I am some other.

Like anyone.
What do I believe?

There are things I will not dare.
And it is rare that they are there.

Give me religions that are their own Christs.
The sentiments of lice.

Black inharmonics. The cold of noise.
I will make well. I will level.

I will balance out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What is inauthentic
at heart?

My heart.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We used the same language
to call for the end
to the call for the death
of Baktiri Africa.

They possessed the press
of massage and muscle
sausaged by conglomerate
giving us the wit

But when the Incident
conjoined the subtle horror
of parallel worlds

Loss of light and mind
became mundane-- We accept
no reward but grace.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Plant a cake
  in the scream of lost warhorses.
Cull gut-spells
  of madness from the slowest dogs.
Rake old maps
  of iron bumblebee and blue spices.
Drive down hawks
  with their names for winter thaw.

Lake monument
  of firewire sepulchre and gloss.
Cure arrows
  with starcore philosophy and moss.
Lathe skull
  til light in its cast is caught.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
1000 Fragments

Something has changed--
blue, bittersweet
snow-- seamless
tangles of moonlight,
maple and oak--
footprints as puddles
of air-- a grand
abstention of cricket,
moth and overall
hum-- that second
shot, aftershock
and echo of that first,
held within that first--
o, copper bullet,
amber slug, tequila--
morphine-- cum--
angelhairs of spine
up, on end-- electric
rebirth of mind's
plasticity into plasmal,
dianoetic grace--

Put the motherfuckers
gainst old walls--
moonlight glints
upon embedded lead
just fine-- fragments
of trees litter
the scatter of bone--
create what else
you would know
as you go-- these o,
so fair worlds do
likewise-- cathedrals
of refrigerators--
what can be thought
dresses man-- all one
wears is metaphor
for soul-- a railgun
under floorboards--
a violet's broken stem
of palest greed--

But the mourning dove
recapitulates--
a ballet of serenade
and scream-- a bed
of forgotten, ergo
forgettable, com-
motion-- cigarettes
in a liquidity
of dream-- a chill
three degrees--
thumbnail to e4--
o, the hail too,
wicked with purity

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sing a song of Solomon
Fish Tins-- gold-tinged
flakes of fish skins
cold-- as food or ferti-
liser, Solomon says--
a taste like a tumor-
Pop! Inside your head.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

iii.
 
prnegs mimrut eamunw nutris
rngism mertim uenawn tursup
ngsumm ritmen iuwent raspur
gsmumr tumniw einutr sepran
smmart munwun ietirs purneg
mmretm nawnut uiresp ringus
mrtumn wentar uusipr negsim
rtminw nutres aupurn gismem
 
tmnewn tirsup earung summir
mnwint respir uenags mumrut
nwnutr sipren iugesm martum
wnturs purnig eisumm retman
ntrasp rungus iemimr tumnew
trsepr nagsum uimert minwun
rspurn gesmam uuritm newnit
spring summer autumn winter
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

i.

spreng simmur eatumn wuntir
spring semmir uetamn wuntur
sprung simmer iutemn wantur
sprung summir eitumn wentar
sprang summur ietimn wunter
spreng sammur uitemn wintur
sprung semmar uutimn wentir
spring summer autumn winter
 

ii.

rspirn gusmem aurutm niwnet
trsipr nugsem aumurt minwen
ntrisp runges aumumr timnew
wntirs purneg ausumm ritmen
nwnitr supren augusm mirtem
mnwint rusper aunugs mimret
tmniwn tursep aurung simmer
rtminw nutres aupurn gismem

mrtimn wunter ausupr nigsem
mmritm nuwnet aurusp ringes
smmirt munwen auturs pirneg
ssmimr tumnew aunutr sipren
gssimm rutmen auwunt risper
ngsism murtem aunuwn tirsep
rngiss mumret aumunw nitres
spring summer autumn winter

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

a mathematical composition of music 
fails without that certain intuition 
which is but tuition to an institute 
of ignorance and mock comprehension
 
as equations themselves fluctuate
in the steady-state of now and now
and here again an atomic clockwork 
splits to splice a shell entwined
 
as ideals undo the dream of day 
as dreams cull this winter night
within dim fabrications of data
 
as rose bulbs in cold compost
compose ariettas less of thorn
for blood than ice for summer
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Do you speak without mentioning
the type of god or good (there
are no good gods) that could go
or has gone without mention?

Do you listen? Do you read well?
Do you understand what you eat
and breathe and do you recognise
the medium in which you dwell?

We may as well flip a coin
and call it by what it is not--
Death is a master craftsman

intent upon the perfect tool--
There is no depth to reason--
Meaning itself? Imperfection.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

   
 
comfortable
convertible
 
collisions combine
cotillions sublime
 
as venus treelines dim
in lucid apogamous age
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

an orgasm, singularity
in which thought and action
completely coincide--

biofeedback, pitched
and bright-- sigil
of the signal of noise

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What goes on
far longer than any mortal deserves?

A few meals; the dreams of.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

C-D C-D G
windchimes rotor
in a voice
to be heard by hoar

C-D A-G A
or not
not now
or not now

A-A A-C D
alleluia eunoia
shelobstrosity
black quicklime

A-G A-E G
no mirror
act of self
in reason

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Understanding; not-
understanding: in haiku--
the trees talk to mulch

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I lose my mind to the simple fact of that--
that what is good, needn't be representational
or just-- that all the literalism of lateralism
bows-- that each lyricism is rust-- that snow
that comes like blood-- that soul that runs

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So we've been emailing, the twenty-plus of us--
half of whom whose identities I'm sure you'd guess
for not being on your side, and half the rest,
whom with a little thought, you shouldn't be surprised
to see enjoying your schadenfreude-- (of course,
there are the staff members who simply wait for you
to go down, that they can takeover and perform
a more than inadequate job)-- and since I've gone
pariah, now untouchable, I'm free to obliquely state
exactly what it is most believe, the obvious being--
you and he are lovers (this gets about even odds)--
now, there are permutations to this (sidebets made
not yet lost)-- does your husband know (or partake)--
has the cock-belch scuzz-eyed crookback hobbit-
tard in question suffered an accident, scrambling
shit for brains, bringing senility decades too soon--
(or is a mentality like that purely congenital)--
are you over-protective, so unashamedly biased,
because the slimeball of churl is family, or lover
(or both)-- but really (and tho this gets long odds,
it is my bet, and will be placed) is that soulless
self-lobotomised hypocritical one-trick phoney
(whose closest approach to personal artistic
creativity is the perpetual whoring of 'eucalypt')
blackmailing you? Be honest now. We dare you to.




 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Be sure he goes on a bit about recent pubs--
if he doesn't state which of those banal
scrawl-by-belch pieces of kitsch and cliche
have been published, boring you with wankery
of the wankery of how generic, pseudo-literate
editors for an illiterate audience in this post-
literate society place his crap in unread mags
as example of both vanity and mediocrity gainst
which others might appear better by compare,
he won't be pleased as a self-greased pig
midway thru a new shit-- and if Retardo's
not happy, somebody'll get banned.


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
Promise

the average unimaginative person power
over their fellows--
based upon a uniformity of ignorance
disingenuously called freedom,

equality or self-worth--
as personal choice without personality;
a stagnation
via the status quo of public decorum--

and one will soon
divest themselves of six million Jews,
and quite a few Poles--

not to mention an eternal disavowal
of honesty,
integrity and purity of soul.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the uninspired liars 
         (cockatrice 
             chimera 
          manticore)
say inspired
      (as tho by wit
     whetted and fit
            to slay)
our lies are made
          (of poison 
    marrow and rain)
(not of truth) 
               bored 
with wisdom feigned.
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
you want an idea
of a dog and man
i tell you break
thy supple spine 
and pray for god
to lift thy chin
and with whisper
lessening praise 
thy life to pull
silence and love
up from a silver 
gun a trigger of 
wing a lead fire
angel upon angel
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
commodify intensification:--
            the blue of bells bell bluely
            no--
                        knuckle to cheekbone

            hooves drum to roar wind
                        within the mechanism of snow
            a stratus pleural, o
            no--

                        spit
            upon the beggar who would be
            cordite & ozone

            o--
            blood wicks to coma-
            flail the orbital gravity of night

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
"If at all possible--

            voice is a cherub of chirrup and scream
            whose own voice beads as the scratch
            and tine of a syringe upon glass
            in polyharmic attenuation

            thought either memory but self-serving
            revision as false as fair or creation
            broken from dream itself awoken
            into dream true as starfire

            song but mockery of agony
            a curse upon stone that feathers
            rooted and hypnagogic about the heart

            hands but blades that curve
            as nests at nape breast lip thigh
            to egg the harpsichord lines of spine

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

it's okay-- no expectation
to understand-- or rather--
ignorance is thick round you--
which is to say-- really--
life's a lens-- only so
much light may strike thru--
growth but a shift in phase--
no history but yourself--

and truly-- that's okay--
lightning strikes the earth--
lightning strikes the heavens--
lightning strikes itself--

as weapon-- you are nothing--
a type of air-- little else

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

here i am running-- here a dog is running-- here a deer
wades into a river-- here a bird frantic along the ground--
there the palest blue breaking sky-- there no rain but fog

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the single connective american roadway ideogram--
emblematic tattoo scorched as branch and twine to briar and vine--
black planar-cut ribbons too vast to ever hold in toto--
their thin plastic dissolves to oil no matter how softly lifted--
and the mind a map more subtly defined.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the fan/ echoes off the wall/ in real-time

and you/ are beautiful as the world/ is cruel

in its/ minimalistic beauty/ rotten as it grows

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sunlight and two incandescents of three
war for sovereignty of a chessgame
in which each piece marbles black to white--
white halves to the righthand sides
of each player, respectively--

They sit with minds of bright moonlight
deadly in that nebulous thought
wavered tween nova and rock
in serendipitous plot-- nostrils flare

In high storm calm-- pupils dilate
as feint and subterfuge
toil for excellence to strike and fold--

And the room is God and Mind
is not and the war for love is lost.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

it's seven thirty-seven and you don't
wait for your change;
a collapse of ice in a styrofoam cup
on a cement floor;
a smile neither returned nor understood;
you want heaven and you'll never
scream the words that key the doors;
it's vulgar the way truth
scrambles for a hold upon power and loses;
rose petals fall in this ceaseless
storm;
these fires are fires of spine;
you've no words approaching poetry;
stupidity is your life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

oh hey the trees
all hail the mechanical
icefall swale
heuristic oh say
stepping deer
furs thy spine as oh
majestic
hooves titter-rasp
hollow night by yes
a convenience
of wind
cut with perfect knife

oh may blood
satellite

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

a
sapling bronzed
a
chandelier

a
cage of moss
a
glass table

a
banquet of
a

history as
a
tongue heart

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

o, for expansive accuracy
a veritable diorama of penetrating ken--
but what do we have, but transparency
of truth and time, minor joy
temporary as sin?--

so be it then and closer, friend--
what mirrors the coming silence
must be quietly said--

what to fear but the nothingness
which rises to belittle self--
what to hate but that satisfaction
false as the greater world dispelled--

birdsong is a fire shearing diamond--
all is instrument and shell.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

i am insane--
the leaves ping on/off
to careen and siren and scrape
as they retaliate
their loss of form, which says nothing
of the night that will end
itself a type of rain
and the pain in my temple, a cloud
of lightning
rooting, with but a single flower--
petals that lure with perfume
that stains--
my tongue is thorn--
my fruit is fang.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the essence that builds the anger which kills
resides within my heart tonight--
air and terror.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the multiple agonies
of consciousness (if
that's not too great
a stretch) are thus
relieved: by love
and by disease--

the disease? death
of course and love
of course light come
as hunger that subtly
feeds and feeds (to
leave as blissful ex-

halation)-- a chaos
dark and serene

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ten o'clock people with four o'clock thoughts
and twelve o'clock fears
            mutely pass the three a.m.
            scintillations of daggers and razors
            of dew and ice that adroitly
            strike the ravenous heart in pinions
            of light


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The house is green, a minor tower
edging a field of bluebell and clay
with wood at its northwest corner--
I dream myself a fair and quiet boy
at work and staring from dark windows
upon a Spring with scientific heart--
This much tentative light tempting
this much seed to flower toward fruit
hour upon hour upon thought upon hour--
Cursory summum bonum any summation
as wit is the shorthand of wisdom
and wisdom shrift most post de facto--
The green is that of cemetery fern--
Hawks spiral, masters of themselves.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A woman groans, far back in her throat, nearly whimper
wrought with sexuality. She is warm, lonely, naked
and in pain meted out spasmodically. She is the species
incarnate, twisted upon her blankets, with an illness
beyond cure. Why mention it-- Lust and love; admiration
and pity? Yes, of course-- And as a wish for better.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

250,000 trillion stars
within 1 billion ly--
O, universal infinitude--
I am angel of myself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

names of flame whisper
ash itself a syllable
of cold

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Use your imagination-- I've used mine, and've imagined you
without imagination. The mind lies-- you know it's true,
as sense itself evolves upon contrivance. My heart composes--
matrix as tabula rasa specific; will as genius; time: sun.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the fields shoulder
heavens of cloud
with turning backs--

raccoon and rabbit
plain as darkness
scream of death--

good men hurry
as old hungers sum
the chill of love--

what fair contest
do you contest?
the soul as breath--

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sorrow-- each bead
a beggar's cup
of light-- withheld.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When the thing
itself sings
itself as echo

the thing itself
sings itself
as it resonates

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I am mindless as I cum--
a supernova, headlight-sized--
a moth rising, wings aflame--
the body blinded by white noise--
soul the arch of abdomen--
the tremolo of muscle--
eternity forever ocean--
a glaze of eyes forever sea--
I am mindful as I cool--
a peregrine, my hunter's shell--
night flowers, my perfume--
and here I rage in calm--
the churn of beauty--
is not truth, but love.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We've talked of beauty before, you and I--
You sense it like one does a storm yet beyond treeline--
It's snow and ozone; woodsmoke and car exhaust--
More a filling of shadow than a diminishing of light--
Beauty, you say, is a tempest as eager as it is impetuous--
A wind that stirs in steady buffet--
Lightning that whips and does not strike--

Fine, my love; fine--
It is also a word beyond my ken, my mind yet rises to claim--
Here I am, a hawk disowned from the sky.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Need help? Help yourself.
No assembly required. Work alone.
Love is a body politic. Vote continuously.
The greatest gift is its own receipt.
Knowledge is interest on loan.
Want more? Then do more, motherfucker--
whether supernova or blackhole.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Always speak your mind; never say a thing.
Shoot first; ask questions when out of ammunition.
Red sky at night means you're near a sizable city.
Don't count your chickens before they hatch; count your eggs.
Those who fail history might be good at math.
If asked an unanswerable question, give and unquestionable reply.
When in doubt, ask for directions to Rome.
The road less traveled is often a dead end.
A stitch in time saves none.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

great houses burn with strange fires--
rooms flicker and fade; ceilings throb
hammered by sky; rusted nails ache
with a cold horrored inability to rise--

the air within drums the din of oceans--
dronings layered to a siren knell--
each sense is touch and every ignorance
abstraction poisonous by weight--

eat your dinner and die your death--
the plate is clean when no longer a plate--
the cup a river and the cup a rain--

your hair screams entangled in horizon--
your breath smolders with the moon--
the dead centers of eyes abyss with life--

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It should be duly noted
that the sun has yet to rise.
Show me Orion during the day.
Let it also be stated
the field behind this house has yellowed
but for the famished southeast corner
which is forever in shade.
Gift me the itch of antlers that I
might break the bark of young poplar.
As a direct aside
the last of the great moths has died.
Lord, grant me ease
in starvation.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bedroom off the kitchen,
facing the library
and separated by a curtain--
To live as a monk is to become a monk
mellowing perhaps to vinegar--
What need of stairs have the aged?
Failure and light warms
these still rooms--
My dust an egg of name.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two trees-- the smaller
with larger, sweet-tarter fruit--
rabbits fat on both.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You were born mindless. Dispute it if you'd like.
The post traumatic stress of being overtakes you still,
tho you've learned to cope, I'm sure--
A cigarette here; books like a soft drug there;
a raising of volume if and when the music suits--
Gathered assemblies of drownings you can breathe thru
that you may be reborn to the world in quietude
to better counter the machinery of disgust and hate.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The chaos of cloud is too bright to look at without wincing.
Assume the sun is eight minutes away and as free as any automaton.
The grass is Easter plastic couching the serialised eggs of houses.
A woman curses without swearing. A silhouette ascends to nothing.
A few dragon-scale leaves hinge clockwise and then counter.
Gojira's blackness stretches in waking dream. I rasp. I writhe.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Don't forget to steal the Warhol fridge magnet of butterflies--
There may not be any Warhols
                               butterflies
                               magnets
                               refrigerators where you're going.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

waterhorses

immaculate interior housepaint of choice
neighborhood children aghast
aghast aghast at the second story nude
there are apples on the help yourself

the threads limned in gold that lift

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

4 dry toasts, perfectly burned
2 green apples, too sweet
1 pot coffee, weak

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

shoot dog kick cat
skin horse drown rat
stake pig fry gnat
chew wasp bat bat

beg sea suck sky
hold wall pill night
heat stone hone knife
numb mind love light

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

stars are teeth
the universe
hingeless
jaws

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the whine quavers as it ascends--
not white, but pure as it is without what usually passes
for the true blue abuse of signal--
the parlance of price and you already know this shit, man
so crash without losing your mind--
and it's louder than the voice that asks if you want another
coffee valium child grave memory--
but you're not paid to think and you're not paid to feel
or to know or to care or to trust--
you're a slave of predestination and circumstance
same as rope, as needle, as petal--
same as math.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

vestigal's a lovely word
as far as words go
not that any word is lovely
without a lovely tone

impregnable attenuation's
a lovelier charm
than the loving admonition
to fuck your cellar door

synthetic melancholia's
duotonic asperity's
an inimitable pungency
both expiry and mot

elocution's a word as lovely
as heart is not
nor soul nor mind are
tho honed to wroth

telemetric alleluia
alleluia alleles

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

vanilla's the salmonella of the mind, fucker.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

gojira's tongue--
pink mercury
itself a thermometer of joy

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Verbs noun adjectives.
            Nouns adjective verbs.
                        Adjectives verb nouns.

  Adverbs adverb adverbs.


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

layers of trumpets call the hounds; the number readers
close themselves to snowfall and summit; she swims
with the horizon; let us see if she drowns--

posit: everything is holy; therefore, equal; therefore,
meaningless; therefore, allowed; therefore, more
matter of taste desultory at its level of ignorance--

posit: creativity requires more than juxtaposition
of prelearned symbol; more than the dishonest tripe
of sentiment blindly echoed; more than an idiot's
recognition of attempt; more than morosophistry--

posit: whatever kills you, is truth; what poisons,
names itself as enemy of self; what sings of rapture,
best pierce thy cold fish heart as talon of raptor--
o, numberless; we with her, drown; o, trumpets call.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

infantile cocksucker
banal as a mental wetfart in a library
you fail the soul's eighth grade
perpetually

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

here we are, mother-- carving ducks for the gallery
of finesse and flame-- the mighty insect bruzz
whelming in sonic ozone-- mother, tether

and i must say, mother-- the richest dishes
are but misuses of the smallest pills-- my hands
but gnarled oak impassioned-- mother, river

mother!-- i see your stiletto in the camouflage
of plume and genocide-- for you, no arrow
whispers struck-- no accurate reassembly
of memory prerequisite, nor meal-- mother, murder

mother!-- these are my nails in your eyes
and they do not worsen your sight-- fears of rats
gnawing open their own bellies, are rats-- the oracle
is a sneer, and lo!-- the future, snarling

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

lethe-lithe

with tongues as fine as eyes, / i beseech-- rather we--
as i am i in fervent multi- / (com/sim/du/im) -plicity

you stay, to let braid / cilia -> scale -> scalea--
to let sun & entropy / warm , worm ? wear us as

we wear +(we are both)-- / thought stem-spine carnal
in the canal of your (p/r/f)

-ear|ache-- twine micro- / cardia & lozenge the data-
plex of heart-mind light-->

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

untitled!

ah, bach! i mean, mozart-- ah!
the perfect singing i do not understand!
keys upon keys! lyric within lyric!
sensible nonsense! ubiquitous non sequitur!

o, christina carter! i mean, kubisch-- o!
the songs of machines i do not know!
partial constructions! mimesis in toto!
crickets in the gut of swine! open throats!

irem of pillars! a red sickle moon!
klimek! sand! voices of n. american owls!
sleep! a ballet of hands! bell orchestra!

recording a tunnel! jeff greinke!
the corner! mada fronta! dither remix!
with throats as fine as needles!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

soporific benign atrocity
--mecca
; medina; dresden
; nagasaki; antietam                   white-backed
; vietnam                                     vultures
      [ imprimatur
      [ nihil obstat




 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

arctic winds graze over cavities in cliff walls
which will fill with water that will freeze and wedge
as pocket-threads of axeheads without handles
all of wind an ocean an arm a searching after calm
and the dirt in the river grows richer as it flows

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

to return to drawing now is to go mad
i have no visions and dawn in its darkness too brilliant
to go mad now i may as well return to drawing
words as braille made of light sightless fingers do not catch
define and delineate fields more scent than window
tho any window is both open and closed
and i am mad as a maggot in a hot dumpster
calm as a crack in the sky

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

were that i were
that i were
evil distilled to its essence
and that essence incarnate
sentient and wise or were i goodness
partially assembled or half-grown
a bounty of fruit maturing with season
but i am fire with precious fuel
and i do not burn the bridge of nothing
that between us informs us as we are born

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

cool hooves
follow a sandhill crane
upon the sinister bank
of the dark-mudded fox
to a bridge of swallows
with mudlark nest

led and lost
to mulberries

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

i wish
i wish
i wish for you

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

soylent green is purple--
silent greed is purple--
  supurplexcellent.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

i have the secret of immortality:
i am the dross of time,
a cloth of clothos as chthonic dress;
the secret is this--

beauty abhorred is remembered
in the seamless current of days.
you doubt me?
mark yourself with stars--

gravity is eternal--
did you suspect?
here is an orange for your trouble.

just look, just look--
name us each by place and time--
the word is a mortal knife.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

fur seals
fur seals

fur seals-- elicitly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                  ping
shawn lee's pingpong orchestra
                  pong

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

i hope you've your raise by now--
corn chips oyster crackers
cream of wheat

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

o elegant
lines confuse to astound
break and
break and break

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

make this one work--
make this one pay--
make make--

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

workshopping
field recordings

of workshops
rocks porkchops