Bicycle rolls the high hill
into a ball of putty.
Warped wheels speak to pine needles
rounding the bend to brick sanctuary
plummeting home in the genitals of a church.

Long towers of clay speak to bird's feet.
Brazen beaks peck yesterday's shit.
Benches  re-shape the spines
of wandering re-shapers who
duck attic entrances to speak boiling air
past the frozen nostrils
on ancient horses, molded in bronze
and steel to strengthen silence.

Dead kittens in a stone bird bath
bowl, blood decorated by clustered
leaves, fallen from the veins
of the sky, faintly creaking
in the zone of no laughter.

The way must be broken to breathe,
space latched needs matter to eat,
skin soldered by time needs a mind
to dance prints with, the frolic of murder
melted by birth after birth in tandem dresses.

I'm bouncing on my own body
with a spirit found in the rain,
tickling his runny nose with an arrow,
bowing his violin with a fan blade,
pushing all his wind
with a tunnel to an airplane,
flinging luggage at his feet
leather on leather light,
tooling the trees of earth
into a venusian infrastructure
of steaming pussy willows,
I inhabit my body with drawstrings
of sadness, layers of impacted
iguana, shivers from martian lake floor,
ice runways pocked by
spiked heels, and falling forms in a haze
of projected blue blood.

Cherry from the dark sky,
compact traveler, species of blood moon
living in a mask of colorless before
or a shrine of violet bathed hereafter.

Scrapers positioned in a rut
as a smoked and reeking bouquet.
Blueberries whose stems are
a peephole filled with typewriters.
Sword of grass that scratch the iris
of a fallen giant as he slipped
on an ax in the compost heap.

Dragonfly glued to a rooster's head,
moving its wings like the chicken's thought.
A multitude of dead hens
scattered around him like soft
red sacks.  And the porch
lifting off like a saucer
over the long lawn, spilling humans
into an oval-shaped vat
of laundry detergent.

Blonde dagger of waif stone
kissing water with blood
salting the doorway's speed bump
to evaporate into fire with a chain
whistling beaks between toes
and tar and glass fragments
the straining sack of a broken atlas
lifting a snow globe unfurling nativity sperm
learning the river's slit wrists
as it nudges the gap in the bulb
fondling solar slabs detachment
with a universal hand.

Free moving sounds hid pastels in the backbrain
lovers in sand make mirrors
dripping faucets collect invisible blood
kitchenette clubs break linoleum ribs
staircase eyes find a handhold in your groin
burnt shoulders release arms into the sky oven
whips of sight drive infinite vagina
through the cortex of saints
to meld blood with solitude
that is flushed by blood.

Champion meat throwers
celebrating a long unwashed floor together
while grins sprinkle grease boards
tongue knives separating long links of pain
cheese knuckles blooming in dead eyes
garlic cunt in a high mirror
traffic of easing water
through a boiling knob of keys
a wind of automobiles
making love to stagnant air
as destiny takes and drinks its own wings
to reproduce perfection.

Darling razor cupulas
carving table tops with weary hands
while the room erodes like a sock in the soil
voices are pulped and noise blooms
broken urinals talk beauty
flings chandelier the sacred spirit's core
sleds slick the hill to death
under the sexless straight flank
of an eighteen-wheeler
jets push the box of stolen gardens
into a blacked-out rose
and through the threaded sky
with anus-baked goods
driveling down the valley sides with
silky scum to eat the fortunes
of the forsaken river
locked doors losing frame
around a fire's placemat
windows painted half to be a looking glass
wasp sex on the sill
that time held for the sun to punch
falling into residence with dulled open eyes
looking the trees through screens
past ponds that spout
with the language of chameleon leagues.

THE VISIONARIES OF SLOW DANCE MOBILE EARTH

those psychological chains is religion,
shock troops of humanity in the white man's image
the nation of gods and mountains down into the denser sea bottom

diaphragm which force air have gotten out of their hands
fossils and land bridges strips of continent
lightweight rocks of oceanic crust

Africans, the first humans and creators of the spinning of the earth
believed that every aspect of life belongs to the same puzzle
manifestations of God with savage fury inside plastic garment bags

you can put layers of invaders newspapers for a supernatural power
against a wall into tin cans middleman Gods blanket and spread
legs of the bed not cool the air, but move it

Long green lands of disruption
eyeglass full of pearls glued
to the onlooker melting his grasp on worlds
spiked crutches under his arms attached
to a battery that pumps blueberry juice
through the rictus of a hung smile
a face that burned through mountains of rubbish
light of a distant galaxy's purple wound
pressing hard on the bridge of his cut nose
intestines filling with ice cream
rump loins hugging the funnel
to devour more sugar, space

Village in a crater pocket
sending smoke through steam
owner of a golden mouth yawning
to take in the silver world
through a dream house of cum on hot rocks
stirring ice in a whirl pool
against the current with a haircut
searing gestures of dance laser a broken chalkboard
schooled rhombuses growing iguana limbs
bathtubs of eyeball in fresh gasoline
lids gone to the prince of blindness rich
blasting the poor with arrogant information and clementine peels
peanut shells muffled in condom
ripples the preening brain

Bang bang life for losers of life
fucking hag scenery eating
seedling smiles buried in a long hill
sprouting bodies moving air with their mouths
moving metal with their hands
making it speak for them like a bitch
making their talk smash glass
and wooden doors machine through the ear
that waits at the end of a warped hall
creaking and creaking for the oil of music
a drum that fled melted houses
to be rolled by hands that have
arms to the sky with heart's traditional pulse
keeping the giantism at bay
with extraterrestrial bouquets
of fuming penises.

Dolls in pain poses eventually
bleeding through into time,
hooding their chemistry of eyes
in a shadow their beautiful blade
created.  Heights that it touched
to wrap a sky around.
Universes that open to it
whole one after another
crashing in simultaneity.
Every dragon drop of the last time
subsumed in ferocity.
Feverish terror of arks
long arms and legs in the water.
Island movement
like a planet in the light
tugging somewhere to
nowhere in particular.

Bodies as cream eyes.
Vultures on fire with the cream.
Totally mesmerized upper windows,
leaning readers regaling powerline
faces, history's bitches who eat paint.
Mesmerist of secret terror,
ogling the rift between worlds.
Forehead pierced by the emergence
of warrior thoughts, unused
while the hands made gods,
old theater come out of the earth
with new lights.

Throat that vibrates the continents
like stepchildren, piano teeth
that descend from the shackles of
a bloodied tree with freshly
imprinted leaves.

I carry my prison head
on a decreasing stick.
Dreams rainbow out of it
like radiation.  Light's window
lays its movement all over me.
The muffled birth becomes
a cavern.  The muffled train
becomes a man's eyes.

Pink coverlet of the earth
moon's sabotaged frown on glass
where it breaks into pathological letters
ringed eyes in the squared distance
smashed toes on the ship's hologram hull
where its blade is a wall that descends
prow lips pull the prism of man's creation
into a faint bomb matrix strobe
salt without meat on the sanctuary floor
bones dancing in terror for radioactive nurses
wet sand in the sanctuary's eyes
sand dollars living in the sanctuary's paw
crying a diamond pyramid hex through a grip stigmata
nightgown slipping from her continents and seas

THE WAY OF THE UNDERPINNING TO SCAN GOD MANKIND

Nation of earths, proving the existence of land bridges, the scroll and key, and
the intricate folding of satanic swirl passed as swiftly
as it had come--and, as a metaphorical transparency.
Seven poking above the waves to form the neocortex
ocean floors moving like conveyor belts before their creations
culminating in hue-mans rotating objects away from the center of every land mass
a series of linked spaghetti pipes through ocean sediment spoon-feed
to the production of superb swords and armor over each of the paleomagnetic poles
curved across the northern landforms toward the eyeline door

The stock of laughter poisoned by lovely lips
pond of discarded tires staring under the moon
long lines strung overhead of moving ships
cargo of colored air
symetries of madness mated by plastic
overload of planet suns
pushing perfect numbers to peacock plenitude
knives fallen under a bed
dish of leaves that presupposes a book
the hand that comes out of the bunghole to steal the eye
and pleasure the silence of god
with island flowers
wreckage of rubies
running water to the hungry arc

Mystique we brought as wonderbread gods
slid ditches in blueberry light
pocketing birds for later
slid needles on a carpet long as the world
taping eyes to things
holding mirrors to our exits
taping penises onto the preacher
gnashing with grocery list please
list the pies
stringing and strunging the overhung
air that we breathe with extra
dappled with early light in the lake dark
thundering cake in the belly of the heart
lining up for dog meat with bright found tickets
couch in the eyes fundamental
buttocks in the eyes
total care of an error falling into the sun

Distant woman, turn my dark crater
into a high mountain on fire,
bulb my highways turn my bus of
chalk thrones through dusk
to the honey of daylight; break my
shadow with fog, so that my bones
can find ease in what water made.

Engrossed woman, make my nudity rise
from the shone of where you bury your
eyes, so that I can teach you new sex
on the alley of your fine table.

Woman deranged and healed by loneliness,
walk the beach I will buy for you
in dreams we left trailing trains
many departures ago.
Open this lunar car,
spill its contents onto the sun
and break up into diamonds
with me there, while the blood
we are waits to be spread.

Inside your wig
the hundred thousand thoughts turn
like particles of purple dust
taking over the storm of the skeleton
with wallpaper molding and hummingbird films
with a shaft through feathers
with a valley of stacked cans
and open cans with honey flashing
prairies of life-force denied in mushroom gas
slick pools of infinitely reflected eyes
money propellers against the boardroom sky
felons of thought eating crackers and dreaming

Scooped-out towns of the unknown,
rubbing kerosene on mattress springs,
singing to rubble fields tombs of pipe
left blazing with the echo unhired,
big squares to the sun topple prism,
lenses on floating light that imitates bright water.

Underbelly of the highway
hiked by spiders,
lasso of regret that hijacks
the intent of the dead,
fire a gun in my heart,
put the swab in my lungs to work,
italics of blood float out of my ribs
like tumbleweeds.

Overlord of the overpass
dropping apples and bicycles,
particles of darkened matter,
kisses that rescue the spirit
from a bleach on the body's crutch,
boiling pine tops that burst
the glass of the eyes with firm heights.

America strong and strange,
fierce with a new born age.
Torn prairies that still
sing of honey.
Bars in the mind's cage
melted by potent futures.
Fractures in the vinyl attic
weaving the imperfect pattern
to smile on fire.
The body unfurls.
Stillness calls, is gone.
This waiting is all I have ever done.

Long calls from
the thick border of sense,
long wigs and long eyelashes
hung on the bed's corner
long sighs from the long long bed
flung telephones blinking captive light
in the pink belly of the beast,
with furniture.

Heart-wrung animals
cornering power for themselves and others,
we think on planes, imagination monied.
The brims of the cloud are fleeting purple
that the eternal heart is made of here,
in subliminal traffic.  Gaze on gaze
melts off while the green is on
all over the world, at gunpoint.

Films of robot Jesus films of saints fucking
films of bedraggled swamp rivers
bejeweled with broken technology
films of numbered fists
films of reptile huggers
films of us both perfected by lightning
projected on summer's bedsheets
by the crying winter
flags of sun filmed by white ants
crescents that carved humanity from coal
butts of lunar pork all slain in daylight
sad parking lots and tree centers
ravaged by the lay of hose
the screaming of a chemical statehouse
snakes of perfection crawling film

Fathomless statue moves dance
into a new paradigm
runway of desert glass
fire paved through the eyes
of the watcher's vengeance
who records and records
tapes turning in the cream of the anus
monocles dripping off
in the sun's radio spray
down the spinner's torso
in a liquid wave of sky's heat
coming on.  Dawn jots a pox
of ink on the breakfast tablet
new sleep of day new dagger
in the engine new slugs
of nothingness on the dashboard
less and less of the womb
egg's wall of flesh the envelope
of death the plant's stalk
of a polar ram protrudes
from the belly of the stomach.
And the tits of silence rescue him roundly.

A hum in the open mouth
of a cut guitar,
eye's dwelling captured by fools,
death on the march in your body's gaze,
your birth-cord troubled by electricity,
you fall down.  Nothing follows
for a long time.  Room opens up
into room.  Death opens into life.
Someone will share the dance you missed
with another.  Someone will finish the drink
you put down, never to return to the party.
Solo dancer inhabits all who hung
in solitude to breathe,
and they in him like a blade,
his carving hand broader than the land
godlike and horrible.