sketches.
 

 



 

 



 

 



 

 



 

 



 

 



 

 



 

 



 

 



 

 



 

 



 

 



 

 



 

 



 

 

 

 

 

 

 



 

 



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Alright--

Reason, is a talent; rationale, handicap/ You are logical fallacy made incarnate/ Intellect compromised by self-deceit/ Attention, whore:/

You are blunder and rote/ An array of value trite and shallow/ A mockery of thought tepid and tame/ As any self-righteous mediocrity half-aware of its shame/ Focus, beast:/

Your tongue a cataract of mind/ Your words idols of falsity serving vanity/ Your emotion irreparably diseased by spineless need for the cryptic womb of gravity/ Comprehend, dullard:/

Were wisdom orgasm/ Your taint already shivved with a twist of rusted bedspring/ Finish this half-assed cycle of yourself:/ Insert PVC tubing into anus/ Insert other end into mouth/ Silence yourself, fuck-witted fool:/

The world evolves beyond necessity/
The messenger is a tool.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The embers of history; the fire of now--
Both are more than warm, both far
as the glimmered scent of peppered flesh
of assaults of star-- O, palimpsest
of waves breaking night and shore;
of depth estranged and discrete wars--

Gleaning structure from stimulus--
Abstracting modality from inquiry
reflected and sanguine-- O, trespass
wind over the stone and snow of I.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

First and only chess game gainst an old man
as dinner guest and at bequest--
Early-middle, and it’s not that he doesn’t ‘check’,
but that the bishop I touch must be moved--
Which is more dessert, than win.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

some words are scripture
alloys allayed
some words are clay
coin-fired
and concave

 

 


 

 

 

 

 

 

"="

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



 

 



 

 



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 



 

 



 

 



 

 




 

 




 

 




 

 




 

 




 

 




 

 




 

 




 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

to prove moonlight is not snow,
i touch the cement and know
like-hued grass and road as cold.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My hate is a beast of seasons--
A spine of February rain,
eyes of August venom and breath
clawing clear an October moon.

My love, a demon of reason--
A fulcrum tongue canting knowledge
toward verisimilitude
biased by cock-mind and bole heart.

My apathy, inconsistent--
Neither full nor hungry, I sit
that frailty breach twilight sheer.

My will I wish inertial-- Death
a mechanism of muses
fractal-edged in flame-- Death a flute.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

a marble christ

squats, figs in his hand
halfway thru a shit

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



 

 



 

 



 

 



 

 



 

 



 

 



 

 



 

 



 

 



 

 



 

 



 

 



 

 



 

 



 

 



 

 



 

 



 

 



 

 



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

   
there are two chairs which are
    the same chair--
one burns to black and one
    to white within
a dark hall upon which only
    moonlight falls--
eternal and still the undress
    of these chairs
which a mind's vast unrest
    cleaves to none--
if but there that flame set.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

some ignorances are inspired--
most knowledge is not.


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

leaves of maple and oak race
one wind--

the clouds, another.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

satori, not sodoku--
burning garbage
as it snows.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

a streaming of air thru serrations
of green and momentary
enlightenments of beak and wing--

so fall songs
from these winding trees--
so roots my solitude
in errata.

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

your heart is sad
and i am glad
your heart is sad--
it means you are not false.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
in love
with the feel of form--
the snow in fog

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

i am not here to remember
i am not here to forget--
the universe is without question
and i without answer to give--
my loves rest fitfully
upon love, wide-eyed and true--
these mouths themselves are words
of wisdom, if wisdom rue--
here is the moon, a river
here the hawk, a spell--
i am not here to remember
i am not here to forget--
here is warmth contending sorrow
a shrew bled out in snow.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

    L          L
 O     L     L    O
 V    O   L   O   V
  e  v  o  l  v  e
    E   V  O   E
        E  V
           E

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


24x24
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


48x48

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

oughthoughthoughthoughthoughthoumindghthou
ghthoughthoughthoughthoughthoughtmindhthou
thoughthoughthoughthoughthougmindhoughthou
oughthoughthoughthoughthoughthmindoughthou
ghthoughthoughthoughthoughmindghthoughthou
thoughthoughthoughthoughthoumindthoughthou
oughthoughthoughthoughthomindughthoughthou
ghthoughthoughthoughthoughthmindthoughthou
thoughthoughthoughthoughthmindghthoughthou
oughthoughthoughthoughthoughmindthoughthou
ghthoughthoughthoughthoughmindghthoughthou
thoughthoughthoughthoughmindoughthoughthou
oughthoughthoughthoughmindthoughthoughthou
ghthoughthoughthoughmindghthoughthoughthou

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

inrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrain
nrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainr
rainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainra
ainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrai
inrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrain
nrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainr
rainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainra
ainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrai
inrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrain
nrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainr
rainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainra
ainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrai
dpondpondpondpondpondpondpondpfrdpondpondp
ondpondpondpondpondpondpondpondpogdpondpon

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

velovelovelovelovelovelovelovelovelovelove
ovelovelovelovelovelovelovelovelovelovelov
lovelovelovelovelovelovelovelovelovelovelo
elovelovelovelovelovelovelovelovelovelovel
velovelovelovelovelovelovelovelovelovelove
ovelovelovelovelovelovelovelovelovelovelov
lovelovelovelovelovelovelovelovelovelovelo
elovelovelovelovelovelovelovelovelovelovel
velovelovelovelovelovelovelovelovelovelove
ovelovelovelovelovelovelovelovelovelovelov
lovelovelovelovelovelovelovelovelovelovelo
elovelovelovelovelovelovelovelovelovelovel
velovelovelovelovelovelosslovelovelovelove
ovelovelovelovelovelovelovelovelovelovelov

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

orldworldworldworldworldworldworldworldwor
ldworldworldworldworldworldworldworldworld
worldworldworldworldworldworldworldworldwo
rldworldworldworldworldworldworldworldworl
dworldworldworldworldworldworldworldworldw
orldworldworldworldworldworldworldworldwor
ldworldworldworldworldworldworldworldworld
worldworldworldworldworldworldworldworldwo
rldworldworldworldworldworldworldworldworl
dworldworldworldworldworldworldworldworldw
orldworldworldworldworldworldworldworldwor
ldworldwirldworldworldworldworldworldworld
worldworldworldworldworldworldworldworldwo
rldworldworldworldworldworldworldworldworl

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

asculmasculmasculmasculmasculmasculmasculm
minfeminfeminulmasculmasculmasculmasculmas
nfeminfeminfeminfeminsculmasculmasculmascu
eminfeminfemasculmasculmasculmasculmasculm
infemiculmasculmasculmasculmasculmasculmas
feminfeminfeminfemimasculmasculmasculmascu
minfeminfeminfeminfemulmasculmasculmasculm
nfeminfeminfeminfeculmasculmasculmasculmas
eminfeminfeminfsculmasculmasculmasculmascu
infeminfeminfemulmasculmasculmasculmasculm
feminfeminfeminfeminfemiculmasculmasculmas
minfeminfeminfeminfeminfeminculmasculmascu
nfeminfeminfeminfeminfeminfeminfeminfeminf
eminfeminfeminfeminfeminfeminfeminfeminfem

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

shashashashashashashashashashashashashasha
hashashashashashashashashashashashashashas
ashashashashashashashashashashashashashash
shashashashashashashashashashashashashasha
hashashashashashashashashashashashashashfi
ashashashashashashashashashashashashireuel
shashashashashashashashashashashrefifuelfu
hashashashashashashashashashfirefirelfuelf
ashashashashashashashashasefirlfuelfuelfue
shashashashashashashasfirefireelfuelfuelfu
hashashashashashashashashireuelfuelfuelfue
ashashashashashashrefifuelfuelfuelfuelfuel
shashashashashashashasefirefirefuelfuelfue
hashashashasfireelfuelfuelfuelfuelfuelfuel

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

b*u*b*u*b*u*bredredredredredredredredredredredredr
ue*l*e*l*e*luitewhitewhitewhitewhitewhitewhitewhit
u*b*u*b*u*b*udredredredredredredredredredredredred
bl*e*l*e*l*ebwhitewhitewhitewhitewhitewhitewhitewh
b*u*b*u*b*u*bedredredredredredredredredredredredre
ue*l*e*l*e*lutewhitewhitewhitewhitewhitewhitewhite
u*b*u*b*u*b*uredredredredredredredredredredredredr
bl*e*l*e*l*ebhitewhitewhitewhitewhitewhitewhitewhi
b*u*b*u*b*u*bdredredredredredredredredredredredred
itewhitewhitewhitewhitewhitewhitewhitewhitewhitewh
dredredredredredredredredredredredredredredredredr
ewhitewhitewhitewhitewhitewhitewhitewhitewhitewhit
edredredredredredredredredredredredredredredredred
**************************************************

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewn
wnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewne
newnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnew
ewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewn
wnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnew      mewne
newnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnew        onew
ewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewn        oewn
wnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnew      newne
newnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnew
ewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewn
wnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewne
newnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnew
ewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewn
wnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewnewne

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

indwindwindwindwindwindwindwindwindwindwin
ndwindwindwindwindwindwindwindwindwindwind
dwindwindwindwindwindwindwindwindwindwindw
windwindwindwindwindwindwindwindwindwindwi
indwindwindwindwindwindwindwindwindwindwin
ndwindwindwindwindwindwindwindwindwindwiso
dwindwindwindwindwindwindwisongreetreetree
windwindwindwindwindwindwindwisongreetreet
indwindwindwindwindwindwinsongtreetreetree
ndwindwindwindwindwindwindwinsongeetreetre
dwindwindwindwindwindwindwinsongeetreetree
windwindwindwindwindwindwindwindwindwindwi
indwindwindwindwindwindwisongetreetreetree
ndwindwindwindwindwindwindwisongtreetreetr

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

songsongsongsongsongsongsongsongsongsongso
ngsongsongsongsongsongsongsongsongsongsong
songsongsongsongsongsongsongsongsongsongso
ngsongsongsongsongsongsongsongsongsongsong
songsongsongsongsongsongsongsongsongsongso
ngsongsongsongsongsongsongsongsongsongsong
soneetreeongsongsongsongsongsongsongsongso
reetresongstresongsongsongsongsongsongsong
etrebirdetresongsongsongsongsongsongsongso
ngetreetrgsongsongsongsongsongsongsongsong
etreeongsongsongsongsongsongsongsongsongso
ngsongstreeoreetngsongsongsongsongsongsong
etreetreetreeongsongsongsongsongsongsongso
reetreetreetreeongsongsongsongsongsongsong

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
tonight the moon is out in full
the trees in their wisdom
stand still out in the open and hidden
you want your tower of babel?
look to the cottonwood the white oak
knowledge is moss on bark
the mind but systemised impulse and all
of love the ash that will
once have been by fire immersed

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the more energy
 you locus
grants integrity
 to thought
dusk the same as dawn
 who is lennart frimodig?
  the sunderings
   of sundry
he's out
 flying a kite
with a fishing pole
and car keys
 and insulated gloves
  and the sky
doesn't care
fishing pole kitestring
rubbergloves keys
pipe flamingo
the smoke of dawn--
 
i would like to be
without repetend--
how could i not?
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
you can say what you think
 without having to think it
  beforehand?
 
yeah.
so you don't think what you say?
 
i don't know what i think
 before i say it.
  why; what do you think?
 
appearances are formless
 like dreams--
  which we forget.
 
i don't doubt it--
 my gods do not call
  for help.
 
the power
 to destroy a thing
  is our achilles heel.
yeah?
i do not know; i forget.
so you write.
i sing strangely
 of rock and rain--
  oils and pastels.
oils and pastels.
oils and pastels.
 
     winds that stain.
up at dawn and down
 at dusk--
  a songbird.
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

light descends--
how sensitive
the night.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

from here, thru the kitchen, to the door--

outside with big headphones.
the bright lake with dark houses--
the moonlight, but not the moon.

shadows from the album skies, 1/2, streams--
the 100s have their filters cut.
the solemn, weary wood sleeps furiously,
colourless and green--

were that i were static become coherent
as lightning spines--
were that i were thyme; were that i were sage.

were that i were lichened to a rock.
may all of carbon aspire to diamond--
may water strike away.


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



 

 




 

 



 

 



 

 



 

 


 

 


 

 

 

 
sticktoitivenesessity
each state's name
spoken
  in a statistically
coherent regional dialect
of the state.
what is not wisdom,
  is not wise.
so, think; i think, too.
crickets as noise.
thought a thimble. 
 
every route is circuitous.
so says the slatting sun.
 
the epic is capsized
and salvaged--
 
tonight,
no moon.
 
like profound innocence,
office, sir
 
of nabisco, new
jerusalem
 
new jersey
where death will not have hold.
 
give me slate.
behold.
 
this is for you.
end of july.
 
2009
what is time?
 
time is life.
which is fine.
 
fine as the finest
moth
 
at the wreath
at the backporch
  
light.
fine as sin.
 
fine as sentience
flickered in.
 
bring me the eyes of gojira.
that's my price.
 
stoned
after a blowjob immaculate.
 
a titan
of sirens
 
this rain
an ocean's minuet.
 
under a tree for an hour--
not a drop.

 


 

 


 

 


 

 

 

Put the ship in the bottle, drop the bottle
down the well; keep the ocean neath this desert of sky.
The ship is the bottle; the sky, but apples
within appleseeds, uncounted—
bushels gone to market without price.
The well is the message: a coming grave to mark life.
The desert but current derived.
And apples? Acid and sugar and cyanide—
Asystematically rot, incidentally pie—
And these ports are ofttimes wine.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

laterality
wet with time

five questions
who

is an artist
that does nothing

but perceive
and sift

assembling collections
of his own garbage

when
will the moon fall

from my sight
tonight

provided i do not look
how

could a chimp
trained

to untrain itself
not do this task

where
there are den

of bear
what

bright nonsense



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
delay postponement; postponement delays

why are most polarbears lefthanded?
    most humans are right.
 
we are flawed 
incrementals--
 
    once upon a time upon a bed of moss
        once a grave.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

12-18 people
 understand the theory of
  relativity; 12-18 
   people understand
    and profess proficiency 
     enough to play
      the rach 3; that's silly--
       if parallels between 
        the two exist, if any 
         of the twelve to 
          eighteen can do both,
            i'd like to sit, dreaming
             as i heard such things
              explained; no, really--
 
let me say that again
 another way: everything
  exists self-consciously
   alone; the arrowroot 
    cold, yes, and the lock-
     spur; the finest map
      of water known; entang-
       lements of quiddity; yes,
        well, so?-- so this: reap-
         prehension of the mean
          in flame; some minds
           burn clean and all sense
            the breadth and depth
             and innocence of reach.
 
 
unutterable precision
 would not be a gift;
  men are lost, and what
   is man?-- within the same
    realm as selachii, auroras
     and infinite imaginings
      as much as the moon
       light dusts even the rocks
        without moss; metaphorically:
         here is a boat, and a boat
          is not man; islands where
           display is effective; bedrock
            again sand-- that animal
             which waves knowing it does--
 
proof exists in perpetual
 application-- what is string
  that can not be tied; what warmth
   that does not fall; the time
    is the tone of what there is 
     to be felt; all of hope an ocean
      without home; love as intricate
       as starlight which has no fear--
        there is no god but blue above
         a tree that is leaves upon leaves
          against sky; these hemispheres
           of laughter hum before they hit
            to again sing-- my voice
             is of the indelibility of everything.
 

 


 

 


 

 


 

 

It storms. The sky, lit blue and frightening.
The good dog, still dead; skull in a duffel.
Tomorrow's ozoned humidity, tinted with viridity.
Silence bottlenecks and the rain, unstopped.

It storms. The night is high and near and wise.
The electrical hum within the walls, lullabyes.
Tomorrow is an eddy in a dream that resonates:
Resign yourself to fate; fate yourself to life.

Lies. I am a half-drawn sword. My irises rot
with balletic thought upon grapevine and fire.
Justice seems the lucidity of snow and winds
that cello. What do you know, analysed; do you?

With what inertia intellect possesses, I go:
A laser thru morning fog; an epitaph of nonce.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two Too True Stories


Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Bang.

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click.


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Klein bottle for Moebius strips and souls.

On your left, Irony's Blaacccccccckkkkkkkkkkk
kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk
kkkhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
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hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
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ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooo--

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
Good: infinity.
 
Evil: eternity.
 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

possum
in the aftermath

pocket washed


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
whirling silver winds
gasping grasp--
 
 
             foxes
 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

where do the eyes go?

they go to follow lines 
without arrows, those curved 
continuities of femininity 
disrobed-- they go coolly
upon calf relaxed and upraised
hand and travel nervelessly
over form to wordlessly linger 
as they warm upon function-- 
the cunt and the tit trap
and the world-- it burns
in the paroxysm of orgasm
in its presque vu revelation--
all is known, nothing fact.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the key to great art

add wallpaper


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

genius doesn't steal--
it owns
and then gives away--

the sun is not an eye--
but every ray
lashes out at night--

three butterflies--
each tasteful foot
tasting feet--

black bodilessnesses
and cherubs everywhere--
so life seethes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
sylph, dryad, nymph--
lysph, addyr, phymn--
lisps, adder, femme.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

blue-bedded azure ozone beaded brightly
built of twentyfold layers of translucent
crosshatch strokes--

one strata gold
two strata white

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

An Apropocalypse
 
 
Everyone is dead or has been
 evacuated, love-- 
We are left in a city of ghosts
 in a cataleptic land
of the cirrus world, love--
 (the soldier toys hum)
Dress now in your mother's dress
 as I wear my father's jacket--
Love, let us climb into their bed--
 (the soldier toys run)
Love, let us tuck ourselves in--
 (the soldier toys come)
Love, let us love-- 
 We are happy without end.
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

anechoic--
choice (na-

oi) chance

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

a pun without a chline
 
if not nothing then would be
metaphoristry
             chnine.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
counterclockwork--
  painting daily a new twelfth
  as the fruit rots 
 
hypermutation--
  pine realistically depicted
  then limn warholian
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
knowledge is fractal--
the chaos of these fields
intertwine
 
here is wisdom-- 
you are as saturated
as i; goedelian 
 
fore & backgrounds
thriving, writhe--
hull & thresh
 
strip & sliver
brocade & irradiate--
time is a throat
 
no ledge is actual--
i am a note.
 
 
                  i am a note
         --no ledge is actual
 
           --time is a throat
          brocade & irradiate
               strip & sliver
 
              --hull & thresh
             thriving, writhe
           fore & backgrounds
 
              as i; goedelian
       --you are as saturated
               here is wisdom

                   intertwine  
  --the chaos of these fields
        knowledge is fractal.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

country snigger.


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


buddha as a lawn gnome
christ with a crucified erection
a pig called allah
brahma eating diseased cattle
and the three monkeys of no-evil
with YHWH tattoos

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

as if there are never more storms, or other calms
as if each step is not a thing to pivot upon and draw from
as if a large enough finity, is not itself an infinity

furthermore, we are naked to better devour sensoria
moreover, insignifigance itself poignantly perfumed
what is more, love acknowledges death and supercedes

some of which or all of which or none of which
may be true at any given time in any given weather
or not or partially or indefinitely, perpetually

you would not believe what i truly believe, i think
the stars are beyond my concern but they drive me
to create the terror that is immaculate kindness

and my wings are hands and my blades are eyes
and my tongue is mind and my thought is rain

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

born in december and conceived in may
father a drunkard and mother deranged
brother a loser and sisters twice-sane
home a vaccuum and house set aflame
dreams of high ground and work without pay
born in december and conceived in may

married in june and divorced in september
children unnamed and lovers surrendered
dogs are all shot and cats are each wired
trees lose their bark and grasses dew-moire
the sky is a rubric and half-moons retire
married in june and divorced in september

dead at march-end and buried in april
friends but as close as familiarity fickle
melodies of birds over a hiss-roar of drizzle
dinner is dandelion and dessert an old nickel
this fire is starlight and this water bevels
dead at march-end and buried in april

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The rising sparks of a dying fire
twist, released by the tongue of a stick
and deflect as glass and smoke, stars
in dry golds of rosemary and rose
as these naked oak river night
and the breath I breathe, the sea.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And Gojira falls back to sleep
while looking into my eyes;
I see one pinprick point of light
reflected, disappear as Gojira
purr-sighs. What a strange death
this life is. What love engulfs
these desolate islands of ego
and housecat. And in two days,
I will be homeless and Gojira
never seen again. I surmise
he will be heartbroken; as I.
And in his feline mind expanded,
Goji-goji-goji is who I am--
What's in a name? Understanding.
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
datasal    eorgu    windmill
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If you want to do great things,
start small; pile and compile--
recompile. If you want that good
likewise done to you (insomuch
as you are likewise me) I haven't
anything but ocean to drink.
 
The serious silliness of a-
rrangemebt. Et&re. Why
 
And there on the other hand
is the other hand--
 
Suspecting inspectors.
Raincoats.
 
        is the line
This
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wordless, motherfucker.
And what, what were we going to talk about?

--it takes, it takes, it almost has to be
Wordless, motherfucker.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the plastic sky
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
a horizon elastique
 
 
 
the grounding detritus
 
 
& you
& i
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The mountains snows are the hands of giants left wristless
under starlight.
The plane is silver, and the cargo hold is warm.
There's opium in the air, and the acid we've just dropped
has begun to hit.
I throw my head back to kiss you upside-down.
And we twist.

You move my hand upon you and God, you are so feminine.
You say a thing I do not understand, and I open you
without understanding.
You say it again and it sounds like 'lower skin'.
And angered at my unknowing, you name yourself the angel
of death.
Blue angel, death angel.

Yes, it is cold outside and we are all venomous.
How fast do I have to fall to burn away before I hit the ground?
Yes, you may use my parachute.
Watch me fall. Wish.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And my first thought is of dandelion
upon a hill so green your body aches to know
the dark clean cold of the ground below--
And my second thought is of breaking storm
misting thru the screen of a window opened
that you drunken upon each inhalation--
And my third is of love that restrains
anyone from making irrevocable mistake--
And my fourth is of lizards on a rock
while cats sprawl too contented to play--
And my fifth is of kissing you in a room
warm with smoke and our own anticipation--
And the sixth is the last I dare think:
That wisdom is more than a turn of phrase.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She went across the ocean
and sat upon his bed;
she hugged his dad and brother,
drank wine with his friends--

Her pictures lay about his house
tho they had never met;
she'd undressed herself to the marrow
and now that he was dead--

His grip is unrelenting
and his love is unreleased;
her love, a pearled destruction
and agony, consumes relief.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It is night,
and tires scream neath the silver green
out on Treetop Drive

where Zen is polluted
with scripts of conversion and sorrow
gives rise to song;

where starlit stones glint
cancerous; where what echoes
does not disturb;

where the names of gods are as meals
that feed nothing but hunger
and truth fails;

where beauty is an animal cut
in the pause of reflection; where Death
the homunculus of soul--

It is night,
and fires stream over the slivered green
out on Treetop Drive.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

repeat pool

lawnmower car
robin
electro-acoustic glitch
breath

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Sentimentalist

whose presence I avoided and abhorred,
swearing destruction my only valuable
valid recourse, has no canticle to intone
from his unreachable and sallow throat.

Do I moan, as well as sigh? I despair
of these fires that are flower; of flowers
born as stars of indeterminate twilight;
of prisons best believed to be a pivot

upon paradigm of plasticity cum womb.
Here the circus camps; here the blackbirds
choir; here the sentimentalist posits
matters grey and moired. Oh, to slit

those eyes with serendipity never sanguine;
to devour self-congratulatory refinement
and shit out an ocean moon. Oh, to strike
as lightning from a purity of blue.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the hyperbody of the sparrow flock
is everything i need to know
as the hawk calls out

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And the sound
of one finger
snapping?


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

to dress you in
my cum, my cum
being the closest
to my own soul--

white, then clear--
pure, either way.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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--

sentimentally
accidental--

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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?