<><><><><>

Trees re-formed and positioned for me
the docks in a tract of silence held flat on the water
kitten stare from a high slab moon
duck moan in a low harbor and the river eating
slender the cares that drape by mending
            sky's scape of murder to earth
 the rent of cerulean core
      pitch-dark fruit of ages
                      proliferating through walls
                  that fall to become their boulder-twins
                      a ditch of raspberry eyes
                pleading backwards from a path of sharper stones

<><><><><>

Riding through the aftermath
                of billions of lives
      with salt legs
            trailing everything nothing;
      spiny plant-precipice, touched & torched
               by lingering fires,
      made breath by vastness:
            how hard to carry without
      this gargoyle face, sternness
           these limbs of pepper

<><><><><>

Animal of light
tearer of sounds from the air
resound without a body
liquidate the assets of celestial crime
respond like lice to me and release my flow
into the atmospheres of death
hidden behind potted flowers on the retired avenue
the jokes of congress smitten on the air
ravages of love's abandonment
to rivulet through refrigerated land
and ozone the vulvic agitation
of time, and its anti-cancer

<><><><><>

Fearful for the purple in your skin,
    the blood that wants to get out.
   It is good for people to be honest
    with one another.  To see the way enfolded.
      You are rose pepper
        and fructose flyer, searching
         my kitchen for rations,
        marauding with silks in the bed room,
          reminding me why I was alone for so long
        and why I will never want to be alone again.


Bring me powerfully to the threshold of self
   to torch barriers and watch them hold without spite,
    impregnating us both with
          cheese waffles, rice cakes,
              and vinegar salad,
  while in the country of minutes from now
I kiss your well-trimmed flaps,
      tryingly, like someone asking
                a servant to save his life.

<><><><><>

Dandelion orb, idiocy pure
             of no perspective,
                  life-giving, rain
                      on us less,
  we can't stand it: too much
      that asks too little
         we bask wrinkling
            our brows while
              the sun wrinkles our hours
     trundling our cares
         half into sleep,
            celestially bawling
      yardless and erotically imperative
        dreamed terror of the
            error we're born to
              like a kiss
                   deflected

<><><><><>

I without a name, the centuries
    pass over me with no effect,
 the zero sum of dignity,
      emerging through the shared web of layers
  illusion kaleidoscraped
brightly lit by failure
  with no act that requires law
orbited nightlessly
  we injure things toward their true lives
     and give them infinite perspective

<><><><><>

The mission is expressed
      by a fallen bridge.
    Cables that come to the arms
           will lift and lift.
       Orbs will move away with me,
           set rails will smelt and
              imprint themselves into the earth,
          follicles never suspected
              trickle through the scalps of all
                   and give light to the aftermath.

<><><><><>

Grandson with a gun
    pummeled the fake sky chamber
       had medicine in the town butterfly planetarium
     asking nothing to flower, asking all
       to flake and ash willfully, to fall down
        simmering coils of live vegetable
  building the spaceship of the dead
   the largest melted industry, teeming
            horizon-widening hacksaw eye scythe
       soothing the masochist's duck waddle
      the path of the humble anti-electrons
 those who stamenly affect no one
         steeple the pimpled hills with corrupt cathedrals
    add genitals in gilt-edged symphonic
         sheets, scrolled in gigantic piano wire
      the forefather of sorrow
 binding up his room in a wraparound keyboard
   exiting by window after window
    heater speared and counter-speared on the winter
the laundromat a halo of soda candy and porno
  porch chairs ciggy butts and raw diapers
                              goodwill clothes and half-rotted sneakers
                                                            lapsed currency clotted in the pop of the heels
                                                         undying fury of intellect, brow's cloud inter-oriented
                                                                                                     to yellow roses and the punch
                                                                                                                of the yellow moon.

<><><><><>

I'm like a fucking child
  who can't sleep or grow.
 I beg whores to bring me sugar.
   Everything I do is practiced idiocy.
 I can't eat my lemons sour.
   More than play, I work at death,
      sorely and tirelessly, being
         begged from within
                             to fall down.

<><><><><>

There are measures that can be taken to ward off death.
None of them match the unidentifiable birds
pecking at their own shit on the windowsill,
the white paint of yesterday.


Who did I ever need to tell me their names?
And why are we trapped in space with only
our murderous science, our categories
that only kill?


Who can tell me, who can tell me?
No one has told me.
This chair alone is an empire of sadness,
of stricken lives.


This thatch of fibers, whole highways
of microscopic beings,
hurls its numbed weight under me
every time I become too tired to stand.

<><><><><>

Life on the wing of a vast sadness
she keeps pricking herself and will not stop
and her problem rests perfectly
on the foundation of our world
where I wait at the bottom in a bed
built on fallen rafters and newspaper
toothbrushing my little death in a pail
tucking in my meat browser
and she comes in a shawl of mexico burnt orange
wrapping her english grammar around the top of my spine
she inhabits with a gun the ring of flowers
she inhabits the excited reality of snakes foils and whales
reviving my bent skeleton with licensed nipples
turning my head to the dictionary of frankness
filing my paperwork in the vault-speak of human flesh
cooling an ember with two mouths
closed to the dawning

<><><><><>

A hammer that sickens the firm of the earth
trunks burst from the holes in the island
filling stories with occupied space;
 what lingers is butterflying dwindled,
  winged eyes on a barnacled mast, both worlds dying

<><><><><>

Tablecloth large as a garden,
 we spread out on pomegranate loaves
                          and honeydew cucumber rinds,
  fucking sternly, while the imaginary
     clay walls mirage off
           near the pine roots' sunshine
              taking silver for death up high
      to be played and repeated

<><><><><>

Morphing into a wall with an open slit
 charmed with error, erecting a birch
 from the body-swept bed a deer rising,
    shrinking with daylight,
      waiting for the mind-taxes
           to kick in, that plow an angle
            into one's belly,
        so that one can contain whole
           the ballet of frivolous misery
              snail-history of a kiss
                                 left to burn
         printed on the third rail
                   like a brand crucifix

<><><><><>

He's recording a scrap album in his basement
 with jerkoff fumes.
He's a fanatic with a wide-eyed vegetable.
 Forced into a view of the ceiling, he'll walk there.
  Put into a computer chip, he will fuck.
   Killed by automatons, he will
    put on new flesh and walk around wildly,
                                                        proving his own freedom.
 Later, on lakeside frozen patio atmospheres,
    he will talk with others
              about his adventures,
                blowing bubbles,
      molesting the air
                          with his face.

<><><><><>

Zapped eyes, thin teeth,
  macro-waved entity, lugubriously
       farting, cry your own name,
 beat on the cemetery tablets,
       cry your whole family name,
      fart soundly for them as well.

<><><><><>

Flung oil spattering the mini deck
with a reflection of coming planets
elated eyes finally reeling in towers of meat forest
labeled vixens trampoline on the reeking fringe
channels calling in their robes of noise
from the underground, from the colorful regions
faces spread open like recent wounds
speaking windows in mid-space
in mid-nowhere
and fucking in mid-nowhere

<><><><><>

Shiver academy bronze melted eyes
shank night snuck under your ribs
sleepover academy solemn roof lights
security shining on blanket tar
die


Summer is a rolling hill steamed to the town-top
behind the vast edifice winter intelligentsia
you can hear that hissing


Dive into the dives around the academy's outskirts
discover nothing twice and ask for a fourth partner
ream the one leaf of the sky
ream the bittersweetened hereafter

.....

Ferned yard outskirts
    cottonweed hands of archer grandma
  the table sets itself between a thousand gardens
     dandelion tea on a raw table
         dancefloor up on a mudheap
      tilting like a graduation hat
         til the bones tumble to canyons unseen
       in the dark lawn parting