Thursday, May 25, 2017

Land pierced by fallen bones
tables rising out of mud from scattered banquets
bronze flowers losing light in the stabbed sky.
Cracked tar in the eyes of a whipped runner.
Flopping flesh shedding sweat on the sand of ancestors
machines coasting out of their crushed heads
ripping the breeze.

Long tubes on pebble-covered roofs
thrumming with cataloged mystery.
Canyons of aluminum smearing coils of birth
with the assistance of the moon.
Weary of blood and sad work
the deserts and their scarecrows of water
come channeling soaked cities
to bury us clean and crack open hurt brains
singing to the broken blade

Wednesday, May 24, 2017

In this borrowed height
the view of shattered runways
traps the blood's wings.

Alleys of glass on bathed trees
that breathe sunbeams and ragged weather
sucking the green cushions of soil
with a strand prowling
denting the glow
cut through the stone apostles of thought
toward a gurgling river.

Combs float up to printed sand
settling in broken shells,
their raking empty
salt scoured and ornamental.
Leaf's underside eyelid
lakes blinking
body finger searching the soil
every pore on a thread
painted creases and steel black trash cans
pouring out of a mouth in the dunes
a window of sand woven into a thumb nail
a bouquet of signposts and smashed lights
clenched in the rolling rubber of a magnetic hand
flies smashed on webbed bright glass
wings frozen to the stem of a growing goblet
steel lids spinning where steam bursts and paints brick
with moldy water and the form mud
alleyways melt fingertips for knives
silk's arabesque caresses
milk humming between rocks
and oceanic holds
the rippled cells awoken.

Monday, May 22, 2017

Galaxy-wide blue walls marked by green doorways
slide show in the veins of hand
long legs concrete and sliding suds eyes
rooms pop in liquid buildings
neck gashes and cheek chewed give way to mouth
tremble to the scream of buckling restraints
in the faint tree top's smoking fingernails
daylight throttled by wheat's overabundance
shores tripled in light
well hung shadows walking
into the darkness of weed-filled water
a box of doors breaking open.

EAGLES GROW TO RAIN THE MECHANICS OF KINDLY STRANGERS

In air-conditioned cars, we wonder truly aroused,
lawlessness above and opposite fields and fishponds
scattered by the glorious particles
hybridized by the house of floribunda
glossy, bronze-green blooms, measuring bedding
coral-peach, double bloomer borne in tight clusters
the dimension of the panels on long perpendicular walls.
Baby bitten nipples that spring
to my nudge of tongue,
female hills and fences for me
to box and ass under,
ferns quickening around
the coil of blankets,
branches that drop
needles to leaves
and the wrecked car's eyes
broadcasting across
the great desk of the sea,
tie adjusted to the thought and speech
bubbles that make up
the day like ice.
Glitch in roses
twitching fibers to the sun spot
pipe limbs
aluminum-faced smoking stoic
current cold on open teeth
flowing rock and sticky stem
herb crushed to the path
glue gun pump dented bumper
pine harvest tops crawling leaves
ice connecting over printed flowers
tipped carts pouring cubes and cushions
kerchief tongue mugged and bumped
by slinky heat
sap for nipples to stick to fingertips
lizard glass in the air
off the road with swerving paint
into the elephant darkness
and the bunching sand.

Thursday, May 18, 2017

The eye grows larger than space--it burns clothes.
There is no escape from its unsearching seeing.
The planet may burn, but consciousness--wants more consciousness.
This is how the body joins the eye.
This is how emptiness uses knowledge to eat.

When I became a stranger,
I saw the way those I'd loved look at one
whose mind has become troubled.
Void will disarm these gazes--
vein find bodiless places, and take heart.

Wednesday, May 17, 2017

Oceans call to home having no outlet
artichoke hearts in a trash can
totems of severed stacked heads
atop a toaster oven pyramid
long eyes in the sides of snakes
pillow house on a spike flagged dune
beauties wearing beard hats
strutting bars that are knife holders
melting windows to the way they lean
dressed up in falling trees
tattooed with chimneys
blinking rain from leaves
Ink-blocked walk through the old neighborhood
terrace boarded by pigeons
lace hoarded in baskets
piled on half-bleached cases
feathered hats' smashed pile in a corner
porch a crayon wall of cartons, lady
leaning over has a broken car
a leaning mailbox
a forgetful head.

It is summer in the place we smoke together.
Peach-splattered sourdough matrix baby
knocking around in the people computer
without a team of assisting bodies,
without a rug of spent tears,
with no interior bending,
a spent door chaser,
a long wire going mute across the satellites.

Transparent bag stacks of rejected food,
ant farm bogged in gasoline
sinking away from
the high totems of bagel.

Chlorine eyes out of the path half-dark
pushing a wet hand of signs,
sketching on wrists
what music springs from the spine,
rock walls on my eyebrows
her service provider
vacuuming salt from the tabled flesh
thinking bloated micro-macrocosm
from what erupts.
Tempests rise like daughters of mercy
through telephone tunnel halls
and balls of mercury rolled on the tongue
wood gleaming from the heart of the sun
falling through the technology of dust-mites
pushing wounds out of the walls
like a felt pen, galaxy
churning to plot its dark revival
revisit of dawn's province
on a hailstorm of wrecked chairs
rain dashed out like an emergency prayer
hugs and clasped hands air commas in the blear
and grasping the ransack of death
her active hologram celestial body
priced in prison errors
for the saint of asskicked man.

Tuesday, May 16, 2017

A mouth of quartz teeth
purple-blooded gums
mind embroidered by the blade of a shovel
looking out long windows at long parallel windows
wondering how he drowned so many hours and stayed afloat
one hand on a mud-buried mussel's shell
the other on a replica sun
sky's cloud fork filled with tongue meat
pine tops pulled by meteors flying
roots releasing river's shore
painted lots puff through sewer grates
and heat throws light to push water
over the desks of grass
button tablets of octopus pens

Monday, May 15, 2017

I guard these darkened halls
from a folding closet.
Light scatters across the planet
out of reach.
Chairs are set up in the mud
and left standing in droplets.
Polished leather marchers
stir the breeze
with fractured perfumes.
Screaming cleaners whack dust
from crucified carpets.
Long paths fall from the fresh eruption
and leak through the horizon's wheel.
Forests plastered with fake blood
falling under the sunrise.
Twisted stairs multiplying through
the atmosphere.
Nets of bone that don't break.
Sorrows pouring on the desert.
Ripples ping ponging
over the blended carnival.
And a fang, and a song for the earth.
Fresh milk sky
ghost in booming shoes
zig-zagging the upward path
in rock through the mountain
hands cupped for water
at a cleft in the rock
moss broken and cloud cut
flowing through the hollow gestures
investing a mighty wind
in the feeding mouth
and loins lingering
to search the shattered
doorway for a dance
legs juke and disposition wide open
for the fires of earth to hammer a cymbal with
straw bones and vacant eyes humming with space
a scarecrow for my own mirror
lipsticking testaments to a sand cave
running through hats and haircuts
wedded to a box of metal on rubber wheels
pursuing mercy with broken wings,
yet having flight in mind,
stuck to the frame I have carved and crafted
vibrating with gemstones and failed utopias
shop worn loves
and gloves left on the chopping block.
Wet rind on the branch broken so many times,
lightning-struck and re-mended,
puckering overripe orange seeded
mouth in the air, stirring the caves
of interrupted flour, an eclipsed season.

Dirt moving in tides across other dirt.
Bench and chair sleepers tight wads of grass.
Coins in the rectum of light.
Lifeless rompers.  Burnt helicopters
drifting down like grasshoppers
drafted by a child's lamp.

The tree's limb climbs the sand
in the water's sonic blitz.
A woman on the quick shore,
several birds flying out of her body.

The cloak the inevitable wears, and its closed lips.
On an iron shelf I keep myself
inside an ashen box.
Feeding circuits alert themselves
in far away ceilings.
Waves tick on and off
awash in rubble cities.
Friends and family are
picked away like lint.
The open floor calls to my hidden flight.
Courts stampeded by rubber people
glow prices to the sightless exits.
In this, our second dream, you
and I are trying on shoes
for broken bones, I am buying
you a haircut, you are nailing me
to a car.
We are watching lightning bugs
trace our surface with interruptions.
The woods are rocking our pulse.
Flakes and bark shards
and leaves came down
without partaking in error.
The warp and seepage of dirty births
strolling with your follicles like a fur coat
high on the darkened concrete
beaming a plan to my eyes.
Now I have my elk, my
pasqueflower
his meals with the uniformed peon laborers
to excavate brick walls from a legion of nomads
needlework across the face of the earth
of such figures to plod, pace, and toil into the imagination
grain; in Haiti, bananas; salt but the figure became an icon, a symbol
crushing loads of bizarre Pakistan; fish in Portugal sprouted a five-gallon drum
sleepy, intricate faraway early stories
straining their eyes
he posed her in autochromes.
Gelatin brothers
riders who purple down brick work of thieves
back doorway a steaming laundry
front bench two suicide chatterers
flopping on a trampoline to the mating switch.

Numbskulls who nevertheless cracked the dragon.
Brute errors broken in handiwork who clean desks.
Excreted screens for a sun's emperor.
Shopfront veins hosing rays of lamp gauze.
Dropping leaves bouncing eyes
to head lit carpets of pine needle patches
the sap of the fallen kiss tickling in shaded ices
a river's armor
the bullet-catching face
of infinite agitation.
Big shades open to the fierce electrified night.
Splashed motels with fresh paint, shivered front yard's hyacinths
with running water, mouths caged in multitudinous bouquets
aimed at the hill's rim near the sky-button.

Hungry doors on our younger footsteps.
Tablecloth dreams in tobacco seas receding.
Late-night lawn chairs on the glass eye kitchen floor
chat going.
Crow's arch of eyes
concentrating through
the blue sky terror.

Diners identified by sounds and steps
that patter into the frequency fade.
Numbness of dudes, exitway of metal,
understanding of the faded numbers
sculpted by charcoal and moss
in the fuming of tree branch's error
hands caught in a noodle nest of pickled vipers

The bird bath key ring toss near the heart
hardening entrance marble mopped
and clean lobby rigged
wormhole to the radio world
in a gem-packed sound.
The rage contained a prophetic passage
old heraldic emblems, turbaned dolls, red lions of maple fried to a golden brown
elegant parquet to colorful plastic living space clusters and arching canes
among white dawn corner and pinocchio stonecutters, the high altar western utility gold
sunshine airship mud into rough rectangle beyond the bright colors of the butterfield
volumes of strong linear perspective on a gossamer fiber optic bundle of light