Zig zagging dance

with a pumpkin smashed path

maps crammed in many handfuls

into this one face

where time stalls and falters

like a crooked flower.

A psychedelic shovel's mirror blade

making rocks and soil squeak

against its thrusting reflection

heaps and heaps

of sun touched particles

long rings of quiet teeth.

Our work of distracted hours,

cells trapped in singed reversal

and android dance moves

the sheen of erased landscapes

drawn to a lonely handprint

a scissor's rain of interdimensional letters,

hot features from the cut beyond,

gem sprung from animal fetters

a g-string's raging heart.

Clouds that scan dusty shutters

that glide across factory glass

and cubes of red rug

interspersed with graphic twilight,

a mouth-shaped shield

and circumstantial bone

that rides a crest of glacial waves

one magnetic feather one

caressed vertebrae above

the recorded attic

and the static of ten

wire-hung radios

one of three biblical refrigerators

and the pill bottles teasing

from formerly vacant shelves,

potato grease glaze

and infinite shade.

Inclines on the sum

of parched and slashed land,

the knife with lipstick imprints

turned inward for

an invisible stream

thatched through unstable time.

Masks for a fertile compost

the host of entropy's dancing

avatars, yours and mine

so aware in glances

across the glint of this

simulated wine, the movements

of gravestone movies

cracked edicts flashing from

glass revolving doors

the busy veins

of empty pages

blank tongues on a shelf

the breeze flippant

only in a dying mind

amp's odor of rage

a plugged cord for stages.

Peaches of honey

smears of hot glass

eyes through the vortex

that butters the knives

lips veneer of split wood

forest abandoned

like a field of upright oars

far from the shore encased in jello

lunar cement at the outskirts

rim and frame

lexicon's descending torrents

in a velvet pile

fruit of a stopped sky

hat's razor fist is

flying for a crucified crow.

Nests made in desperation

glinting with surprising joy,

the quartz of long-withheld eyes

taking on the realm of sapphire,

banks like tidal green

holding up the cliff face

in sweet reversal,

tips of emergent fungus

among the ragged autumn blades,

plates of advancing rock

resounding in the distance

of fire-touched peaks

their caves and alleys

wreathed with secrets of the heights

unfurled in wind whipped silence

the image of a root's

lack of deceit.

Uncertain

semi circles

around her halo

asking dead air from Saturn

voiceless dust from Mars,

choirs lurching

in bulldoze canyons,

ferns and berries

clustered at the feet

of erotic thorns.

As the arcs of missiles flying

bask in the cherubic marchers

so my soul finds

the cliff's root torn

skies normal as a gash in time.

Storms of love

on a star clawed roof

mirrored shade

fingering its keyboards

saw teeth

touching doorknobs

in the bitter night.

Coal swelling

among the roses

paths beside the river

where we ran nude

and laughed

to fly above the fern bank

through radiant logging roads

and all the sleeping herds

that held us down

a short time

before.

Tribal wounds of wounded color

poles of night light leaning tall

a gap in the clouds

where you perch

with your gleaming pose

and fleshy buttons

from a signal deep in time

where you dress up in radio wires

from some sixth dimension

and the lonely acres purr

like some aching ragged photograph

first hot step through the train window

a faint clink of smoke yellowed chandeliers

crime's kissing face.

Rubble from

the ransacked sun

glowing in our fresh tattoos

paths of water on wire

ascending to a castle of bronzed wheat

windows wide as blown eyes

from the halls of death

their threads escaped intact

sweet fragments

in magnetic dance

dispersing inverted blood.

She's gone from planes of dead shine

and distilled color

gone from aisles

blazing with kidnapped perfumes

in raging octopus containers

of star struck glass

gone from squares of radiant fur

cement floors humming slow

and fungus brains

in the corners of cracked ceilings

gone from my night-spent eyes

and veins of a bone wrenched morning

light as fluffed straw.

I am a pulled thorn

staring from a curbstone

white shroud curling off

a black dagger

revealed of architectural darkness

eyes habituated to the blade

a pearl graced bed of nails

the open mouth of my house

conceiving on a hill

of continental grass

the spark inside the bowels

like woodfire

doves homeward in evening

while the long ship moans

its way ashore.

Scales of dawn

glinting on fallen armor

cans turned over

in the cloudy wind

my gone seat of granite

and propeller pen

slanting from a hat left behind

and the one rose's sacred thorns

walks on an iron bridgeline

lingering alone

to watch the webs unfurl

into sweet nothing

on an outer plane

svelte reins and veins of lightning

lassos of electric love

melting the ice furniture

and an open doorway

for a thousand tongues

among the million

and the grass not theirs alone

Lily

She places little rubber ducks

on the frames of magnetic doorways,

the ledges of high corners

and running pipes that sing

along her secret walks

with a burlap handbag.

Each one wears

a bemused half-smile

like hers, each one

is a serene and floating

signature, each one

a peach-perfect

silent-feathered Mona Lisa.

The bag emptied of bath toys,

distilled to its girlish ingredients,

she leaves the scene

with its architecture of ducks

to be puzzled over,

radiant and intact,

others to inhabit the mystery

of which she is the ignition,

queen of ducks

and their many perches,

sower of frozen wings

who flies away,

ethereal prankster.

I know the hilltops

in the upper air

the light upon them fading

into slaked explosions

on a faint horizon fine.

Wheels on the old beeline

to work and withheld honey

extra coffee in the pot

a fallen mask and wig.

Hot plates and heels of ice

a corduroy ceiling.

Chair sunken in the numbers

gluey with their rows

clothed radiant in weapons,

with ambient gaze

I know the limping haze

that comes and sows

the ravens.