The spreading egg of solar system

untying brain from bloodless speculation,

cool units of abstract sound

colliding with floating ears,

the afro of the sun

frying my ectoplasm of echoes,

shorelines touched by lipstick fire

washing over fallen gravestones

and tongues of moss,

frost handled by seeking rays,

stone benches for dreaming bones,

bleached oars left along the vine

of some solitary voyage,

open pathways to the blue hum

of electrically evolving stars

the feather weight of worlds

and all their dancing girls.

U.S.A.

America: once a slave ship,

always a slave ship.

I write your obituary,

motherfucker.

Fuck you into the dust

from which you came.

Abomination of metastasized ambitions,

the fiend with a thousand arms.

Fuck your corny religion,

your stupid songs.

You came too late

and you stayed too long.

New humane angles

in the expanded prison.

New portholes into hell

for pastors and other leaders

to jack off into.

You have made my bone marrow

into a disgusting fucking cartoon.

You have raped my soul

with your lewd, repetitious chanting.

Your advertisements are your reality,

but not in the way you think.

Your crude, drooling vampirism

defines you.

Stay the fuck away from my altar.

Your offerings are putrid,

your prizes are beneath

a poisoned animal's shit.

I live my life as an imaginary being.

Let the gray light fill the room

and paint the corners with waking sleep.

Let the birds gather around

seed-stirred puddles, let the mysterious

chemicals of life rise from around metallic roots,

zones beneath neon giving birth to painted fruit.

May the morning without alarm

bloom over smoky balconies

in the river of a new bohemia,

even in lanes of glass gliding

past my staring eyes in stasis

we do this in remembrance of battered maps

improved with intricate bundles

of ink that the divine fumbled

and gave back to dark matter waterfall

words like limbs are signaling

tongue's heat to the silent veil

nine planets in the path of a snail.

The spider walks my brain

with icicle limbs.

The ground swims.

Stalks go up with descending

bark of leaves, seeds of a different

shadow.  The cryptic nature

of crows, the scent of

burning leather.

Steel wheels on a velvet landscape

long vacant fences.

Turns in gardened alleys that

open up into the sky.

New light on the old burdens,

gathered sparrows following

the uninterrupted omega,

coffins talking to scattered coins,

mercenary soundwaves,

sciences of sex

encouraging torpedoes and bronze

fortresses of stacked meat,

pallets lavished with enchantresses

unruly silence

black clouded word.

Long teeth dripping from a meek mouth

living sinews desperate on concrete

rivers siphoned up into a spaceship

the shapes of sculptured shit

lactating in unmixed paint.

Forked entities with no heads

the scum of painted highways

grid walls of bisected insects

flesh blasted from broadcasting wheels

a cloud of floating skulls

wafting through an open galaxy

as the particles of hot divine substance

are flushed through ungrateful channels

and sprayed upon an ornate clock.