UP TO HEAVEN TO MAKE WAR

he slammed the door of a hotel
where I'd lived, without dying
he died, now I live with the dying
daily I smash a flower freeze-dried
to his terrible memory, to swim in his grief
to remember when he slouched in my bedroom
I took the desk chair, let him sleep
he took the cherry of death, I waited
in the lobby expanding while he swallowed
dreamless bullets where dark nimbus weighed
down around his head, please dream,
dream after dreaming hope is over
dream harder dream in sync that he is alive

I am a friend to the dead and do them no good
dreaming, I am a wreck of dreams
painting he joined my father
in the studio of death sculpting
the clay of death to give this material
sad brain I'll be old in your tracks
the mathematics of self-deceased become
the language of the living,
tongues in the footprints of, who can enjoy a pizza,
who has wrapped up the waters in a melancholy,
who has gathered up a corpse wrapped in fun
who has gone up to heaven to make war on a neighbor

if I could regenerate a corpse with my mouth,
to suck at the belly of a dead one
with living fangs thriving, to slam
with every direction into the walls
of mortal things and crash dazzled
into the sky holds no escape, he slouched
on my dirt pink vaseline bed stunned
with canadian whiskey, I dreamed faltering
his live cock into my mouth, a small soothing thickened
to the heat of music pushing silver eyes
through all bodies of the shrinking survived,

I miss notes played in life's hilarity,
in my engine gleaming to no longer move
he has buried his wrench, he is a fragile nerve
mechanic of all death his mouth is pursed on a spine
of the grey moth, in his coffin
rectum is a butterfly, eyes are pods
to birth a fresh sight of extinction
we kill the ground under our feet to move
toward him, dreaming life
skims the water wall of unnumbered,
the living take the dead into their minds
to make the ground come alive

my grave in the tunnel of a dying sun
set fine in a spectrum of lights
bathes in white salt raining
ditch-born, in a bankruptcy between distances

malfunctions among the stars
watch the sand's veil together linked
eyes pursuing venom lights over
horizon's mantlepiece of scattered incense
hot lights and lips and barn lofts
drunk and dreamless sleeping while the wires think

chirp with currents of the dead
all preyed down to traffic daylight,
stunned by excavated love
in refrigerated outdoors

wings of darkened presence, I think
of my father beating himself with a chain
on the highway of death, an abandoned car.
The streetlamps melt against
an unyielding sky, and all is flowering,
all is justice and grandeur, rats climb
the veil of law no more, all is shrunk
low to the face of the earth
the skeleton lights of gone ferns
flinching against the light
and the laughter,

the black wings of a darkened portrait
fly the idiot homeless
to a cave flashlit by pained eyes,

wings of darkened perfection,
he broke a portrait,
in time, you will become a gaunt robot,
the inspiration ringing in your ears

in a tin box at the edge of swamps shivering lies
a baby bird, the discovery of ultraviolet,
a tiny telescope, the foil wings
the small molten heart, a world reborn in triangles

liquid ship taking off into radio,
cancers of the sun picnic
bench unsteady, three mammals kissing
onward moss ground, warped gravity

twig dousing secret water
from the mouth of a guitar, magnet hearts
springing auto gears over monkey bars and mounds of green
to the sunrise rust of long abandoned swingset,
moments scarred where moons pick off their planets,

in a tin box at the edge we are shivering
in a particle cluster
of many shattered cores, shrunk galactic
reassembled, waterfalls unwounded on many blades,
the hidden joints of fresh made babies

big white bird on lapping water
grey-winged in mussed labyrinth
cattails, bent reeds battered
by the claws and wounded flight
of seagull speckled
or drunk fisherman
through the shore's failing net
of stunned vegetation, long boots
rubber in the living world

birdcalls interpenetrate across
force-field of hospital windows
the memory-lost in meek robes
staring out at their spirits
robbed and shrunk in the lightweight
breastplates, carriers of the old
blood world into the new blood new,
networks failing, sinews snap
out past the lawn legs too slow
to drown emperor head,

underarms of the wings thinking
forks of branch moaning bodies
believe they carry the core;
hydraulics remove the center upwards,
bright world outside pill-stained
window goes on without a brain, memory

there she lies, on yet another apartment
bed we've shared, with another hairstyle,
inside years, walls rise,
time tears a beak from your neck
then re-implants it, zeroes are plentified
lips are small and firm, yielding and unyielding,
we purified silence, gave the darkness
a new world, walked beaches as if
they didn't exist, eyelash built bridges
in the hallways of the sun,
the ceiling and roof formed
unseen daggers. We saucer through
half-lives, under-bridge lands,
through the parka of a vast ghost,
there she lives, she is yet another
city floor closer to the throne
and the foot of heaven, beaming
in corners of a failed noise test,
ripping fronds from the upward current
of an old big tree, lighter than dancing.

from an emergency I reach thread
at the edge of an ocean, scream
in the depths of our house,
shouting in a stone basement:
to the faceless body above,
hiding its motives in a suit of pasta armor.

In mirrors olive branch after olive
land gently on his strong skull,
tongue wielding the air into caskets,
newspapered wings of arm
under a flame scorched jungle gym.

from a remedy I reach into death
ungloved, counting on fingertipknives
the lips among the ribs of silence,
touch the firm breast and the hard breast,
searching for matter.

shouting from a cut foundation airless
to a clay parlor, letting eyeglass
tremble down mortal wet flesh
to rest upon the freeze-dried
torch of genitalia, drained rivers
webbing guts of hungry
from a great distance, the hang-gliderers
suicide, for each worn rock
there is a fresh glob of dough
like a slug, sucking and growing.

THE CHRYSALIS AND ITS COURIERS

two people can both be sleek bodies
torpedoing off in every direction

are zippered replacement, bristle with
sharp spines that offer silken girdle

black bile and yellow in an eel's tail
white patches may be the innermost gravitational tides
his animal is a limpet. It lives as the needle galaxy
when the tide goes out and black-colored lava flows,
monitored well-groomed as he dug up
the decayed tooth of a horse

warm in igloos) the zone the rows of pipes
zone of water or black panels,
rather like jelly: the polar chromosphere above sunspots

Zone 1 and its relatives, the squids
Zone 2 a goggled chick with prisms
Zone 3 is known about how fish sleep
Zone 4 like the quartz grains
Zone 5 water is almost uniform, hovering
Zone 6 cannot be traced with floating bottles
Zone 7 a tin maze, a turtle and a dish of water provide
Zone 8 from thousands of needles covering each
Zone 9 the sea will build
Zone 10 up to a cloth-covered mother whip and pistol
the way squirrels crack hazelnuts.

rags on the river, trolls of china
in the forks of tinfoiled trees
a pair of lovers stem from collision
of artificial space-times
hurling sad moons from wet canyons
where they walk small dogs
of faint clay hearts and tongue smiles
horns of daylight reflected
from the new tar's piece of earth,

wherever their feet punch soil
a violent water takes birth extra
from its own birth blood
from frenzied multiples of triangle heart
absorbed in the diamond of a frail left hand
from the torso mighty robot,

sun strangler in voids
of cooling radio waves
and bikini on liquid forms
of walking sex, coin mirage
face reflected the errors of flesh
the lunar slingshot
twang summer afternoons
to blood gravity, vaginal fibers
in the back of a man's hand.

someone always turns on the rain
in back of our bodies
dancing to shrug off the poison light
when the party fades to kisses
beams of tar and cum
solidify refrigerator
music to replace the spine
linoleum daggers the crucifixion
of a pet rabbit with string beans

live on beer
punch the face of the living moon
through the windshield
of a looming highrise
licking frost from the bottom
of a tin gray trashcan
the sad lives of criminals
the air excreted form
of a girl's fur coat
swollen cigarettes on each streetside
and flying saucers speaking from the air
to flip the storm drain's power and cloud on
slide the steel traps open and cloud on

a chickadee climb
coils of power wire
shingle pebble eyes, eternity
in folded air around
the black on white
on black enwrapt
the bulb thumb of small
body bird
in tiny winds of lobster burnt
breath over the green square
mouth of open dumpster
burst bags and shelled salt
of the netted sea

all blurred symphonies in the air
cinder bodies struck matches in an iris
blooming heat to the belly of a humpback
ferns swaying in digestive fibers
stunned maggots pushed like bullets
out of the invincible body
of a skinnydipping memory

feet stuck to the deck of a murderous country
aisles calling to the market skies
young mouth kissing curved glass
in the belly of a honeyjar

bushes and trunks chirp wounded season
into the core of my peacock being
lapping of bays at the corners
of a machine-crafted room
leaf eyes melt through a thousand couches
to the silence of shade this house
is a painted flower

reborn by a fall out the window
splinters turn to stainglass
skin vessel and bone heart
a winged moon bleeding
behind the shadows of rented trees

wild kitty in orange white
pissed our bed guilty-eyed
as we repeated instructions
ceilings rattled
under the feet of fencers jabbing
wild kitty would not stop

swords, tongues
a fire next to the river
waters flow cold for nude mornings
rock-slime and sand
twitch the water

graffiti bridge cop-shield shelter
all the gods who'll never
heavens and all the devils
dance in their halls
pay me for the parts of an alloy

to scratch blossom
eyeless watchers watching the eyes of our time
no voice tears the fabric of the day
sidewalks hum armadillo scales
small mouths eating in the chimney
feed-bag lowered from the stereo
footclaws on an orange crate
ocean-thread along the length of her body
some grey person is drilling home
the length of the anchor and tackle
where clouds hang fang-low,
stepping inside electro weight
of gravity's whole store
in the back fruit peel of her forehead
circuits chiming like wasps and straw white
if nobody ever touched the wall switches
reverberate body never slide and sicken
down the ribs of a spiral staircase
through the floors of a heroic garage
eyeless watchers watching the eyes of
those on the visible

a wet, ancient environment
the ghostliness of separations
and feet rooted in bitterness
as the thought that you'll be old
makes you older,
sensitometers
the launch legs for the lunar module
impacts the size of cigarette butts,
as the ice panels
geologic tools
a gold plated extreme ultraviolet telescope
inside her asshole
to eliminate it as a foam debris source
more of his dick inside her butt,
video cameras at the launch sites
to position in front of her
the laser reflecting mirrors
she look eagerly he inched
three golf balls, the rovers
his big cock inside her pussy
ramp foam has also shed pieces
my younger sister double penetrated
in less damage than ice impact
by two studs she now a slut
the bright material was nearly pure silica
legs were straight in the air
flags and dedication plaques from each moon
cute high heel sandal wedges
apollo backpacks overland
drilling her harder and harder as
plus spot losses from large-area foams
came in my pussy already
hot springs or steam vents a low plateau called
on my face this time

on thousands of faint stars
these insomniacs are made of two layers
of frost, and windblown sand
renewed every three days
and thawed by microwave
two pairs of wings armed
with hairy brushes, cast to the low clouds
while revolution roared
through the streets of finery, a bowerbird
decorating a courting area.

Bright gas and dark dust above a small church
in total solar eclipse.
If the fish does not come, clouds and the moon
slide from film-pack adapters and plate-hold
jumping jack kind of girl, shades
of white and pink to become saucer-shaped,
bright golden stamens try
to do it up pretty-girl fashion,

Leaves medium silvery pink green, semiglossy
very double; below their eyes, they have
two pits centered, evenly petaled
canes very thorny. Motorcycles and dune buggies
pattern flow of blood in sagging skin
a dark gray cardboard or claws on its food
to spillers and plunge
the circular paths of the water part
taller than the waves
a clean white wall

2 circuits on silver
drawing down electric shades
trees tonguekissing branches broke
shores eruptum moss drag stones
nude in the stream birch cloned
and fallen split the newts movement
under an orange tarp sky

ceramic fawn
pillowed on a plow's blade
wind trapped handfuls of white soil
bends of shy neighborhood
to whirlpool lichened birches
webbed poison ivy footpaws
hot seed on lichened rock
the rivers on each side gone

LIFE ON RINGSIDE VIEW SUNRISE BATH TO PECK AT THE EYE

the Middle East has gone a step
of an insect armed through the early sea
in a child's room, the door
has been turned into huge bulletin of special
equipment--a long neck--with which you might see
scarred in brightness over periwinkles and barnacles
screens and dividers inviting atmosphere
through dead rooms flared in blue and yellow chalk
the guise of a bee, the moth perfume
to lure a male appearance
of orange and lemon trees in California raw,
elementa glided rather than flew

a group of jelly farmers stared
into ancient rocks and sediments
reptiles began to sonar signals
wildflowers flourish on all sides, the old wall
winter they will learn to hunt the eye of the beholdee
grasses buried underneath heads and forequarter
two things and two things of sea floor spreading
other times crashing against one giant eggshell
wherever these fires burn

he has grown in stature, his shoes
are the shoes of a murderer.
his suit is shinier, it will shine.
he's grown 3 blue layers
around his no kitchen soul
going down in the service
of the living god

frenchfries, trainpebbled cig butts
toss in the stars, crash cloned
weightless on hot, a cellar roof
pouring lemonlime out of a thin chest
into a born mouth

the brocade of suffering in wine gold
around heads and eyes royalty,
stormed he has grown in stasis,
his forehead's road a sandstorm
turban dropped in the videodigital.

he has grown in electron tigers,
he has 1,000 paws on the dunes
the sides of the condominium night
start to cube in on him. Assassin
finger button touching the bone
trigger of the sail's rig tapped unfurl
a doppleganged zodiac, skywheel gears
shift diamond target centers, moon
bullet takes half of his twin's head.

doubleblink all friends extinguished
flagpoles of daylight going down
sun a half circle welded
onto the pined horizon
we'll climb into our separate animals
peel fruit flesh from girders
stun the city grid
with light from a dead body
a force field of chainlink phallus
screams from the surface of the sun
infant lovemaking on the sleek
casing of a grey long torpedo

the teeth of goat relatives
gathered in an old soup pot
an android glove, seasons
severed from the calendar
drawers open walls lice in corners
sketching a map on teeth
blueprint paper-mached against
the genders of a bent spine

city guide torching a bus,
sprawled on his skeleton's voice
in parkland, salting the tears
of congressmen with linoleum
disfunction, trusting the moon,
heartily

ice floes find boss mannequin
employer, handbasket chickens
pour out of the vents
what horizon will cut you in half
to eat lettuce in timelessness
eyes tumbling down leaves
to the stalk core tripleblink
all reverberate aquaintances
friends ooze out of the faultline
begging for skinlight, shademusic aid.

X LEVEL

when I'm a sharkhammer of lightspeed
and tears on the drum
you drink my belly vein through a mailbox
terrorize the shopfronts with rim hair
I'm on the snug weight rolling swampward
organs piping deep in the lung clouds
to shrink green laws down bright
pin scattering its point, a throat
engulfed on its knees in a tattooed
parking lot I'll paw your back
and inky shoulders you'll send
a country of round stones
over my left shoulder
the wings above your tailbone
shrinking into a white candle
I'll grab the ends of your interrogated hair
you'll nudge the stem down
curtain the core of the earth
through a feather floor mattress
shank shiver the blades of a windowsill
open into daylight deflowered
blood on the mouth guitar lips
slipping nightgown twilight paper
yellowed hands over the full crest
of a superimposed moon, I open
your worthless coin as you
mirror on an armchair, ribbed sides
we're floating mastered

A MODERN

sun can eat me now and be joined
to a twin sun, brows palpitating

gaze of a flesh ship
ready for taxes and orifice

cords enwrapped on the lone pillar
of a chalk planet where two

lipsets shake the twilight across
planet names and planet faces

they have a grey mask buried half
in the silt of their tank emerged

milk can landing on the milk neck
of childhood mirrors hung from the woods

rump stripped of leather brown
against abandoned propane calling

the names of a lost house, blood chips
dehydrated slotted deep in dawn's terror of outage

dog-thoughts, pillow thoughts,
strolling ghost wheel chairs
around a rubber garden

who can roll up the path
green sod cylinder
opening through plastic
and great heartbreak

a portal in the soil
vaginal, between roots
as supper calls over the fire

nobody's wonder mouth
will eat the twigs
bed for the brushfire
piled atop
your body leaning
at the edge of a cliff-trap

who hangs from the belly hairs
of the earth in a faint damp cave,
counting his errored numerals
stinging his psychic athletic
through the coil of a radio

dreams are hereafter dog-dreams
thoughts chopped down in a maze of sleep
who can roll up the path like a frog's tongue

light herds
lamb molecules against
stems of fading vein
blade leaf to quilt skin
for life in the hollow
of a shark's flank
twist hands together
on an infant breeze
cement gazes
twin droids on the scape
of a dry wing homing

openfaced trailer to the hot rain
exaltations openmouthed for machines
stabbing an elbow's mouth,
fern girl swingset girl
twitch bones against mid-air horizon,
cloud stage aloft for bridges
strung across the back of a grandfather moth,
one fleck of youth
to cough in the breadbowl

pharmacy vaseline, holiday snare
lased across the whip birth
of a moon on lakeface granite
glued down upon beyond's grey,
field forced piping new
englands to the dawn mutandis.

just to see several faces above a sidewalk--
many will try to beat you
with a mop, with a drying rack,
with a serving spoon--them through
the years writ of their menace-love
move--you stunned in shoes of air
on uncracked concrete--nobody
will ever speak again, let's hope
your tongue in a glass moving

their smiles firmly on the map
your grin floating elsewhere's hallwayed
nobodybody--hurt or speak, stuck unspeaking
the branches above are below, hedge-thorns
on all sides scraping at tunnels
fresh created a realm where
nothing you put into your form
will work upon it, breathtank strangers
visa-versa--as each ice cube holds a tadpole

THE RICH MINE GRASSY HIGHLAND
OF PLASMA

you live under a smokestack going berserk
sunlight comes soft and easy of climate
cradle emitted by some female moths
cuts a core into the end of the dial
instead of soaking into the earth.
Their majestic crowns on the water
of a humdrum lamp or lighting fix
your mascara rubs off or it becomes a gas)
for water pumped over its gill of sutured tissues

thus the spent blood stream glassy-smooth
found nine dark fringed segments of its tail
acid secreted visible in jagged mass,
expose 000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,
000, 000,000,000,000,000 bare of trees
meteorites lying close together
on the medicine that bears his name withdrawn,
exactly the blade of your eye
and the teeth larger, these tiny animals
the record is filled from its usual pink
to a rich red floor, glowing corals melt
more at the bottom, he has made drab wild
flowers spread in gorgeous wafer-thin slices,

tied himself into a mariner's knot, lilac artery
tubing and boil tube rubber gut
can be the more important being:
afternoon with good light long-leaved
slit longitudinally, cleaned, and twisted
the long, long journey from darkness into the air
in the bubble, clearing, wings quivering
and glowing like fat thistles shot of swans
held in place by a coat on each side of its body,

the white, velvety light every morning
twin golden patches of bare glamour girl down
from the surface, sent out by other tiny swimmers
or shooting a mess to press slightly
into the pocket; sensitive hairs and toads,
vibrations on the front of the plumage
when the sun sheds its spots

let the roads rise up and topple upon me
like skyscraper shells
mounds of tremble green
throughout unpainted city
raw beams and naked stone
surf undertowed to an eyeless cave
let my fingers from the mouths of toads
transport a shiver through the bellies
of fish who don't know
sadness or the cuts
that coral leaves on awkward feet

fox smiles in the fog mist
of Saturday's national air,
bricked doorways stucco'd surroundings
blinked out down to a red stoplight
aimed in alien shaft across
a small man in brown plaid
with a tiny brown bottle
clenched in teeth-ringed fingers,
grass money protruding wild
flower from the front pockets,
remote button eyes, the breath
of palms upon the weary wind's
television circuit.

fox smiles in scorched hair pretty
as real apocalypse, in a famished dress
flinting far dreams against
the ailing springs, snakes in her mind
like the threat of an engine oil spider.

fox limps out of the garage, a pure xerox
of winningly flawed teeth, the titter
of raven feet and squirrel activity
fluttering against the sheen
of a projected world, the look in the eyes
of a whole place in time dying out
among the basket strainers of reason.

it's all a seizure of windows,
open business everywhere & tailwind aching
colors to be with convenience you
torn posters of dragonfly staring away
streetside kidflowers,
knocking doorframes empty
for a child's name spraypaint

what microphone'll have you wet & naming
the vacancy groaning it's all
a keyboard of blank nametag titties
screaming photo photo photo
tank of wet brightnesses
ripped stones broadcasting sheet of dead wind
on faces of a river flocked names
mirror deciding you're motionless coins
the town fountain wishing you expired
sleepless for social security weeks & passed out
parkbench printed across the T-frame
of helpless visage in crimson sought anarch,
one hundred year old penny stuck
to the peace of an exposed rectum.

pleasure sleeve, denial of morning
cum on the eyelashes stunned
afternoon is a spaceship
where the leader makes speeches
drone mouth reciting society twilight
shit paragraph after paragraph
I want to smoke until the fog of the world
becomes obvious I want to drink
until the last friend turns the shades closed,
play forehead pianos
floods into sleep the unworld that worships
the fear of death, a barstool connected
to a television agitates tailbone lust I'll get up
feet on the glass of a cracked pinball
machine scrotal sac hung low
to warm the plastic everything
of a jukebox's case we'll eat meat
all day and drag the river for more
I'll lock my lips around your exit buy
you firm corporate tobacco cylinders
with my best looks the redneck
has no gun behind the counter eats
radio programs for breakfast cereal
I possess you to plunge my elbow hand
through the newscaster's chest TV
and make him necktie fuck me
hard in a steel fenced workbreak garden
feel the soul's ultimate slither up
and down within intestinal casing
apartments open wide to the new day
rug combed kneecaps lashed leather
skin tattooed with rented mailbox fangs
I'll grab the officer this is all talk officer
blank the headlines over your mind head
whole skaters find linoleum
coated thin with semen shine
the long bulbs, a flowerpot in outer space
could think harder to ram a deli into the government
sprint for ages on moneyed landscapes
you'll be invincible hardware
you'll make me wish I had invented god
you'll make me regret not being one
or two billion and imagining toilet paper first
the mascot for cancer, in sunglasses

MOTHER WORLD COMPUTERS
DISPATCH TRAINS
TO POLISH YOUR SKIN

childless females consort with receivers
on the ice, laden with moisture
weeping in thin layers the angel of salt
tortured the zone of perpetual darkness
under a blanket of sand, at the deepest sunspot
tiny resisters of gravity tumbling close to red,
dark stones and a triangle bolting it whole
in bulbs of ancient color with long fingers
anchor their thorn on tough stalks kick food,
dangerous splashes of air fling doors with locks
in sodas of vomit the gauntlet of the winds
with the great cupped ear
wrapped in crimson whips of security
telescoping raw beltline building magic tubes
brutes of half pried the lid off a big wooden box
finding the diary of exterminators
the oldest layers strung out thousands
in razor-led multitudes of bleached haircut
tenants fingernail-torn outside eggs
were taken flock mates fronds of sturdy
rock tunneled between
neighbors in striped cactus glasses
a tough rod wrapped in elastic tissue
pollen in its older layer shedding flaking
the scales of adolescent excitement
young black-headed gulls who take the glue
of excrement against their aching gums
gossamer jellyfish pulsate straining
claws built by water salt eyes strange
against the fiction of carbon female
digger wasp, higher-slung animal
with loins sculptured bone homeless on sofa
touching the pizza place,
stung his central cavity,
in which spices mix the problem stomach
with stern momentums of civil rights, colliding
with an outer edge of the splash cascading
eyes bled sorry for the waterfall
upon the edge rocks of the last ribs suck age

PLEA

stay here with my body hard while
the ghost of all my thrills
goes hunting deep
in all the paint-cracked walls
let the milk of a spider's heart
run an I.V. through my navel
where the cord was pinched off

let the benches run thick
with vines and white green grapes
in the hot cathedral of my only spires

say to ribs I leave so far behind
that you are my book of stairs
at the end of all this ascending silence
there will be a descending scream
of our perished word and all its dying worlds
let me be veined and free

INTERCESSOR

vibrating its wings
in the slim corridors of a petting camp
he is weeping silk, linen, wire and catgut
for faces of expectant cashiers
superimposed on the sufferings
in love of his beloveds, flaps of forehead skin
soothed into their faucet poses
amongst the murdered whir of a barbecued airport,

uprooted, their valves and stops and oceans to change form
where in the womb of a third life
a whole sun follows their pathways
behind a police woodpile, worm gut,
horsehair, and the eyespots of moths,
desexed in the belly of the generator
as fountains of timber cannot do with human beings, he prays
with all his elbows on tar for our dying priests
frockless to widen the runway
rapidly while facing accumulation of tongue lava
by those ignoring the moon who speak against us,

the torso of a dragonfly god
crashes millisecond canyons
where our screens are off, swordfish in tubes,
buried in the red clay
mated with a sliver of charcoal,
kissing in each knot
the cells of your shocked being.

the orbs lit of life and death
doves and pigeons parked on supermarket walls
numb shoppers are friends missing each other
girl in an orange bright raincoat
goes into her mouth with little blunt scissors
& says: look, a salamander

why sunspots, why edible green

cemeteries openmouthed

automotive angels, nubile tongues
deep in ruby-throated flowers
sidewalks nippled wiith hailstones

why thought, movement, lips
dumb kittens grazing on potted grass

kitchens pouring

I am the angel of death
you can fill in my other categories later
scoop sand onto the precipice
which I inhabit

with 51 pounds of rubber bands
strung around my headdress
my oxygen tank starts
where my eyeliner's attached

I am the angel of death
saucepan poised over the flame
in the cheapest apartment
lysergic eyes roving through
the goods of a dark workplace

newspapers forearm wrapped
the spine of a fish
call me from where you live
I'll trace the line backwards

through a field of wet grass
cemetery bench on a toppling
peak of dead beercans
lichens rub lipstick raw
a dollar melts in my paw
foreseen from the porch
I am the angel of death

consoles stained with blood
within the cemetary forehead,
I'll be waiting, you dress
to find out what force
unlaced my wings, wrap me
in the net of my instruments
droning, remember the costumes
standing between us melt off
in the last stunned light
of vertical starburst, you put forth
your lips on a long tendril
from the blood core to support
my alien insides, help me with hands
and feet to find a bright path
up the bedroom wall
where you'll chandelier to greet me,
circuits strung tight and tender
around the cunt smog in my lungs,
seed catching in the eyelashes
that flicker from a liquid
of fine curved belly, ashen birds
peripheral to my tunnel stare
in flocks of your deathless reach
emerging.

long poles of light spread
on bright water to float small ducks
out of another dimension
breast feathers floating in oils
they break in tight formation past
terror which they do not know
of the bread thrower
in a bashed volkswagon
the owner's slept in
day and night knuckles
fast on the crust to share
with the sky diamond of compact water
slicked
birds not made to lift
him

shave dust from the sides of your soul
until you enter cool hell,
let's cover our twigs in butter
and go out to the garden of the frail girl
we'll beat her and beat her and beat her
together until her stripes become our bodies

watch bark water squirm
around few trees, magnetic storms
turn everyone's bathing suits yellow,
I'll take a vitamin hatchet
to the gates of the ancestor's forehead
and let the zoos spill out
into the air, turn the pipeline criminal

more and more you'll feel
refrigerated vacancies in the crying halls
of all memory, laughing absence of angels
like grandma everyone drowning her face
in the parlor's ultra expensive fishpool

spray non-metal silver on your ribs
until you radiate bicycle, branches nudge
your dream-tanks on bulging sides,
the dream of the sweet totalitarian,
the dream of a fuck with everyone,
the dream of tiny elevators oozing
through a fecal radio station,
dreams that are all bacon and newspaper,
the final dream which will be rung
by a disc mouth on plinking teeth
through the phone line superstore
from the infinite of a foam cup while everyone
falls down

bright owl pages
mailbox up the ass
stone naked in a garden
oysters on clay
copper fingernails, cinema poster
rusted sky, indoor & outdoor pianos,
she's allergic to airports,
left a vaseline cleft stain
on the fabric of the front seat,
we'll throw our pennies together
into the crusty throat
of our old hometown,
where we swallowed a swingset,
where our feet & hands became seafood,
the eyes from pine books
stop turning when the car crashes
the sky turns into a cone

the body's outward form swept rock into the crater
lived between two of the beds at sea level,
waterfalls too high to take cover between her legs,
muted wings flat wetlands near the peak of insect
covered by a layer of others of the black cat
tent show girls, and overlapping plates

milk sugar) the snow; the green of some leaf
large stars and a dustproof room
thunderstones at that single spot of the past. Sometimes,
the morning's long, feathery scales will thrust a needle-like pyramid
when the tide goes to the carcass and magpies
the letting-out of cables sparrows chirping excitedly
on the bottom of the sea,
nests on the cliffs and ledges

meat, fur and blubber of photochemical smog
catgut packed in glass star catalog,
great cleavages in male or female,
fair carrier shells
in the use of trick light worn with teeth
to be a criminal; engine-driven drills
and dogwinkles, hind flippers
fused to their city
with a wet meadow of tall young fruit.

dust on the mountains
sun battery here in this warm hole,
rotting logs birch wind
raspberry hereafter,
swamp child, bruised bodies
lying around your dwellings's entrance,
war paint, paint face,
logging time in the belly
of the great terror

swamp child, beware of the rings
around your breath, keep the small wings
all within range of your hearing,
dashboard aflower with running flame,

swamp child, keen on the weight
of the breath in your shoulders awoken
fireplace to a morning rain

who stole the black triangle
magnet house held you clanging
out of the murk shark hands
and a long pink
slit in the throat breathing
dagger words tumbleweed words
red-faced men haunt the windows
in the kitchen a stereo mole
whimpers quietly to death
tongue squeezed out of its body
in the garden there is only one fatal word
through the fishscale broom
over the speedbump doorway
of a thrift shop, rifling
through skirts to the air
conditioned drone hot to the roof
of Indian music, love the gold skin
of the trumpet love the aural leer
from the flexed stem
of the trumpet's throat,
cries through the belly of a donkey
the tin horns of family gathering
around the signal
from a burst clamshell.

AN APOSTLE OF SHELLS

the heart, when forced
waters screen out ancient times

with scarlet and black, bejewel
bees, as they fly

raw gut is transformed in special patches
cliffs have flowers of dull yellow

the crystals reach a shot-put star
chrysalis cup on the end of an arrow

orbs blinkered over snow
banks dragged by the bellies of the dogs
trash worlds levitating

kitten reach and kitten head
footpaths flicker
over the butchered blueberry bushes,

2 drunk gardeners
listening hard to the radio,
kitchen sinks the backs of heads
slowly drifting into the glacier's
mine
mouth, drone gaze of the non-speaker

drum hole electricities of snake
closed mouth buried in wide mouth

shores breaking open from sound
ears more powerful than earth
lice quick in lines
prettier than hair

guitar repetition of curves
nipples broadcast above a keyboard
pianos many miles deep
in forests are old women's bodies,
nude as nothing else is nude,
outstretched wrists the scars
of rejected blades
wings of old women tightening
to blast the jutting pines
with take-off's breath

sky's a drum hole
all skies are being beaten on

bliss between dumpsters spilling
bliss, watching 3 dogs hike
snowbanks laced with output
of filth, snorting the stream
of thin wind through which
the afternoon mail arrives hard
in a hail of extinguished cig butts

bliss pinned down by securities
to concrete, breezes docked
in the ghost paint glow
torch melted plastic round
the hulls of ship instruments
orange peel pathways strum

toilets ripped open to the
split paws of disintegrating
suns travel banana universe
for melting amps valley and canyon
touched descending by walnut
shells crushed open by falling
armored bodies in a haze of sex

unspoiled, pink rectal print outstanding
on the keys of antique organs,
black & white bliss, skins meeting
in the goblet of ice capital,
gluing desks to a diamond skyscraper
mirage, forehead-projected, from a deck chair

of half-spent beach threads,
peach picnic blanket wrapped
around the yellow fortress
of an illegal corpse, trees
fragile as ferns clamoring
silver & gold launderette
with once clapped hands

those who feel themselves dissolving
in the acidic pleasure of life
pacing venereal barber rooms
wearing tar glasses,
in a quiet reign of terror
vulvic mirrors in high
hologrammic escapes
of total whole soul,
supermarket crowds doused
with sadnesses, who went through
the green glass of an old church window
clutching at engine-greased jungle gym
scaffolding all the way quiet white down,
oceanic newspaper in grips

in close outer space
there is a scorched gas station
where a girl waits on the customer side
of the counter with burned cash
in her hand I run the numbering
tagging instruments with neon tinted knuckles
pull fried chicken's wings
out of the speakers on each ear
of the stereo, concrete widens
covering more and more
with coolness in freeway world,
all barriers are made of plastic

police ribbons all adrip with ejaculate
grandma's smoke solitaire living room couch
echoes of our cash register clang
lovemaking paid hour after hour
moss frame pictures in darkest hall
crafted by dim explosives toward puppet dark
of stuffed animal pillow prism land,
our android foreheads a lacework
of quilted rainbow unicorn horns deeply up
the pulse of pure-hearted rectums,

palace of white yellow air
in the barn-stained afternoon,
aunt's face folded deep marked in a book
as the garage melts open
onto melted driveway dead
cat in black and white clitoral pebbles
paving pineneedle streaked with cone rain
toward path magnetized
on the mouth of a basketball hoop
net wobbling like drool
wind diced fragmented by goldenrod blades,
roofs one story above thriving gardens sprinkling
speck minerals into hyacinth throats naked
robot growth face of crooked violent sunflowers.

if the shadow staggers,
there must be a man in it
trying to get back to his love
through the networks of barbecue.
At dusk, he massages its rectum
with a swingset, he pulls
a white cat--fluff
on a pleased skeleton--
out of its mouth.
There are paths along the sides
of nearby rivers that run
much faster than the water.
From them you can look over ferns
like a god of very small things
and watch the sports field turn
into a vortex of too many crayon
colors, grass melting in triangular areas.
On an invisible picnic table
whose presence you're aware of
someone of indeterminate sex is banging
the strings of a guitar
with a long flimsy twig. You are
their hairdo, or a frog, there are
factories turning into dust; workers
are now wanderers, of streets that have
no business. Some former enemy
has been the only one busy,
turning certain bricks
into certain flowers.

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watch from melted city stoop
raccoon double back from
the torn trashbag, eyes
flashing black circles
his body a small packet of energy
mated with tar, wet earth
tin rattling fire escape guns

observe your feet severed
by frisbee's manhole cover,
staring the scamper down
styrofoam alleyway, grey fur
nuclear universe, needlepoint pupils
the raccoon nuzzle reinforcements
towards the multimillion
garage storage cities, blood-drained
humans losing population to raccoons
in their glint moon robber masks,
tiny mutant superheroes
in the burnt driver's seats
of car dump city all over

pregnant silver mound of soil
coons swarm empty swimming pools
of the rich who sent their lobes
frontal through the blades of glass
coffee table while the coons crawled

thousands of wet dice scattered on frozen ponds
series after series, a phallus
skyscraper impaling the last
basketball hoop, two frog kids
heartbroken under the dumb lightning kissing,
trembling junk in its yard soaked kittens
trembling around the struck antenna,
we'll soothe and surge martini-mouthed
under the river oaks, I'll remember
with many fish spines the brains hot
towards the core of your parent's backyard
where you shredded my canoe of mute lips
into wandering cumulous, I wish
were were struck into the air
and the air hard, being hard spat darts
graph charted against the roof of the
unattended planetarium.

cage of knuckles
around bruised flower, eyes
wide enough to inhabit
more than one set of orbs,
clench of cold bodies
in the beam of a warm movie

snakes on the deck bending phrases
whole alphabet of silken scales squirming,
the queue at the cloud's open mouth
calling hellos to friends who perish
together, vertical acres in air
above the pancake breakfast

the town dies, the mayor fucks
the sidewalk, mountain paths
take on tar coats for beer-fed walkers
sizzle of the melted peach in their mouths,
ferment of fresh spring
upon long-dead bodies

syrup staining snow under maples
thick tall ghosts of elms
inhabiting guitar-moved avenues,
white paper skinwrapped
on scorched birches
paper-mache buttcracked,
twin alleys run past the same
black-lit restaurant, plant smoke
on the lips of tired cooks,
french fries inside beckoning
a crowd drunker than Christ,
newspaper machine openmouthed
to the violence of the dawn sun
on tiny corner of wide country.

long-pelted ladies walk upright
out of the swamp, lashes flick
from eyes and wrists, lace together
forming stretchers for my charcoaled brothers
and I to lay down upon,

the sky's new hum, tangerine skins all around
in the moonlight, milky hammers
for pelts to fetch home to the tides
far under the swamp now boiling,
twang in their own caged shadows.
I enjoy the song that the ladies aren't singing

it's coming from a crack in the ground.

Together we have killed the earth,
let us hold hands in hands in hands
around the metallic sparrow,
let us look with carelessness
on the death we have lovingly created,
nip at the scorched tiny wings
with engine teeth. We'll ask each other
if we can still inhabit this local orb
between flagrant supermarkets
and the sound of burning salts,
we'll taste the shell
of the all-containing thing
that crawled far away,
dragging its dark protections
and a portion of our race,
movement of dung skinned soldiers
serving nothingness' sweet advance

universality of sleep, sleep of all species,
the beautiful gun barking lacks of oxygen
for all lovelies breathing

thank you soldier, policeman of our concerned
deadnesses, our state-sanctioned violins,
I hope all my friends die like airless pianos
in the huge grip. Your talons, I speak
world of newest evil, plastic whole
through the half-melted visor of my own.

we ran in drag dresses
from the surging authorities--
ran through time, the public highway,
our mouths outfitted with lemon peel teeth,
you could guess we were laughing--
official screams of anger flickered out
on tar behind our high-heeled evasions

when a servant steps out of place
the circuits of time are not jammed,
gardens brighten in the artificial
aftermath, against the backdrop
of thickening pollutions, that bloom
their own flowers over the freer ways

of birds, swimming above the human epic.
We ran highway centers back to each other,
strangely abandoned this time, no cherry lights
broadcasting hate to the pines,
no voice to run the big computer.
Time winked from our pockets,
we ripped off our dresses and became genders,
and the police were out there, like the stars.

bristling panorama overtake me,
neon'd snowbanks sprout thawed species
for the death spores of modern mail,
two pigeons awkward of footclaw
upon the turntable of black glass,
the slow song of icicles
the red hair churning into a taffy
as she turns her orbs suspended in the world
like a bloody tongue looking for candy
in the rust cartridge of the oldest phone booth
of this rotting lemonade district,
search my lungs with a hammer,
touch down into the recreational areas
with tube nostrils of bacteria overthrow cancer,
sprout from stumps like nuclear salad,
cause my limbs to hang a bundle of black susans
on every one of her doors, neon my surroundings
down to purple dust, let the sellers hawk

organ behind the head is frequently disturbed,
times the fabric self a fraud reported
the ectoplasm of choice for him give it a ghostly glow
to be the consecration visit emergency departments
of the near-death a dazzling exit
the aggressive brilliance of white grave
buildings lining the sea front; and red spots,
long-term functional, cosmetic, soft tissue injury
iridescence of the silvery blue
nectar from the flowers of the host
cool blues have disappeared.

broken basketball courts sprout ferns
nosefaces swim in the hard candy of being
to the streets and sad bones
to the roadlit electrocution
antimatter ultimate,

this is nothing you, elephant belly
on yellow backs of old phone,
salamander dew-flecked
on the hull of a dead soul,

view from your slit
the one hill lump head
of your mailbox holocaust,
slashing hologram throats
while the curtain worlds are all falling
bus stop fences all gasoline fire

the waves of a lake hoisted spiked
into a swimmer with apocalyptic mind
who'd just jacked the soda machine,
left clothes on shore pinned
down by piles of quarters
he'd spent a month asleep
in a tent under the goldenrod
shredded underwear shielding
the sun from his face
while houses turned frail as green tents
he roved the golf course, left spunk
like silver dollars in sand pits
whose smell salted by the moon
reminded his nostrils of girls'
rearmost slits & stars, hopeless
happiness he thrashed backwards
into moss embankments his mouth
shaped like a can of beer,
and feeling like a cash register
then became a pine branch
arcing over the home
of his nemesis, the normal population.

in the orbs around no world
my head buzzing full of flowers
rents each core
to be crushed by its orbit

until the tin on the moon turns
to the glint of a girl's eyes
her machinery draped in green silk
the eyes of her breasts angry
at the orbs, for not orbiting closer

and the eye of her vulva growing
pineal in sucked-out light
departing from the last hotel room
on this crater's curve
where she makes her home small and sharp
and dark on this divorced planet.

WHAT MAKES ICE AGES?

The man who tore out his throat
and was given a new one
the girl who wanted to be made love to
by a deer
the boy who wanted his torso
to turn into a boiled swordfish
the husband of a wisp of smoke
who wanted to turn into a single tear

the many dark brown mouths,
their bright red kisses
and the small orange and pink cat who wanted
to play on the windowsill, and accomplished this

are all gathered here, in the memory-hole left
by a shotgun blast that echoed for centuries
over ceaselessly chiming cash registers.
Their voices rise with happiness
to greet the commands of a song

the song is catchy, the air is catchy
the pulse of blood catchier and catchier
the vision defeated, the reality exultant,
oyster eyes and oyster tongue
and corriders of off-white library android mind,
with no circuitry wound into the spines of the books
that they slam shut again and again
in the absence of a drumset

waiting for the monks to arrive
with cymbals decorated in pubic bush
waiting for the unimpressed to be impressed
to the point of inevitable heart attack
waiting to be entered in every sagging pore
by a computer

waiting for the campfire in a mop bucket
and magnetic sticks that rearrange
the invisible graffiti on a neighborhood's only glacier
waiting for you and me to shut up
and the universes and multiverses
and houses to go on all without us.

PARANOID ORCHESTRION

I'll climb with flies in your radio wires
trying to take the earth back into space
fingers of pine search the radio parties
for a girl in a cube of ice

she'll hang brains on powerlines all round
the quiet neighborhoods, and stare like
watermelons ball back from the paintings
on a nursing home's wall

time will be interrupted by time

blackmouth, unkissed eyelids
seeking the clover of lawn ceilings,
swallowing pills of children's teeth,
pushing the tiny engine through gravity,
two new bodies embrace on an inherited bed,
their fondness an ancient fondness
found among amusing holograms, she faints,
my body takes dictation from
lightpoles in the trembling harbor,

bright legs before the bomb, levels built
where she falls, elevated to floor
after floor, the rugged escapes
of gone movies, all that's left
tinkling in his skeleton is the voice,
frame tinted by patina of passing
half nothings, the hotel's early breakfast
brightening a month of vacuumed
stomach's heat of lungs, legs strung
always in the jeans of last year,
a river's only wagging memory.

soft horns ooze up the straw
and the roof of the world is far away

waterfalls, pink champagne
newborn gourds and the feet of children
beat a trembling path

tiny pebbles from a shingled roof
pray the shell shields the salt all away
from the coils of your body

wild strawberries can't find the mouth
of the king of the snails as he climbs

and the front door of the human house
who cast the garden down is the mouth
of a vast guitar

I watch with all my pores
that man who holds neglected galaxies
in his haunches and eyesight
impart love to the laundromat
and the lobster buffet
from his scorched windowsill
with most of his eyes closed
breezes aimed long at the sail
attaches fangs soft as snail antennae
who needs the local neon to bloom
on his devastation, pink attics
wavering in basement clouds
eggs fresh on the walls he stares
out from a force-field of blue paint smoke
on the limbs of a clicking tree

when the genius submerged in sad days
hammers the streetlights into fireworks
and you wait with a hard-on in the path
of an even-tempered steamroller
dolls with bulging eyes cling to picket
fences on each green side
line up with your spine
a spaceship in gravy

chronologies wither from torched fuel
of unprecedented hours, leaving wall calendars
bare as pure salt

ruthlessly you penetrate
the elastic, daring the endless to end,
taunting universal slingshots
to send you past all freezing peers
hoping someone will kiss your faint zones
the way forward, where insight emerged
from world airport blackout

in the last days of the fishermen
I'll take you by force to the froth of the tides
there will be a new kind of light in the sky
replica seagulls calling in a narrow canyon
waiting rooms of styrofoam filled
with coffee & cream lights, the barber's chair
tilted against a melting brick wall

in the last days of the fishermen
rain will be collecting in gleaming new plastics
our little dog will cry out on a chunk
of drifting lawn, oil will spurt
from the new earth in all the places
where it has not been wounded

and a chicken will croak
from the crest of a mailbox:
you have eaten your life by hours
you have watched it blend into the faint windowshades
railing with fists in rags
on the last days of the fishermen.

cloud ropes tied your wrists
to a fence long as neighborhood,
jittering under the ghost of pterodactyl

kissing the tied wrists of another,
you put on black lump lipstick
with a bruised palm, waiting for lawnmower
to clear shaded terrain
for blades of orgasm

panting under the icicles extended
from the dangle of a weeping willow
skipping seasons to be near
the brown velvet bondage
of certain dopplegangers

swearing he hates this world
and every cell in it, he half collapses
in front of a woodpile, fingertips
coated with gelatin kerosene,
she drags his twice her size away
by fraying shoes from white cigarette lighters
sinking in black mud

the cool of her blaze is kept
under pink silk
sex pyjamas, old rope clotheslines
keep copies of the same, flapping
in a breeze from ancient childhoods

175 MARLBORO ST

whole days with Greg on the porch jutting from all seasons
of the attic, lungs and guts
filled with the songs of terrible birds

fuck perfection, myth, and all
those many other things we don't need
that float constantly around us

younger in spirit each day
feeling both brilliant & stupid
as the town clock falls from the local sky
and crashes through the laundromat,

whole chains in mid-air above monotone autos
flowering neon yellow
pressing through the dark matter of every month

discoursing on the pleasures, watching the luckiest
animals go by, girls swapping precious objects
from pocket to pocket, staggering past the pancake breakfast
for men with thick frozen eyes,
fishscales buried in the lacework of the ceilings,

gold stains on the belly of the ship's floor,
house wagging its 3 stories

until the police fall screaming out of their helicopters,
colors fall short
buds clench and fail
in hard white
circles of spreading light.

lacework of naked trees
open in patches upon the harbor poles
staring with a battery in each hand
eyes aflame with nuclear day

two pigeons harass each other
on a block of stone:
the laser strung between foreheads,
statues blind in living rain
subway mouths with hot cartoon breath
urinals open to the pulsing world,

if there is a peace it settles only
in the belly of a large savage thing,
black branches sunlit-hinted grey
stacks of cubed human mind
up to the belly of the full moon

PIERCE

a thousand domestic dogs
run on the island
where domestic men
once upon a time paid for raw sex
clenched on brush-wrapped trees
or oceanside rocks
there is a loneliness towards death
in the wind upon paths
that will wind into the unceasing

flowers of white lace
darkened by car exhaust
brush against chainlink
next to the sewage plant
the eyes of the dogs are looking
at me in ancient longing
a gaze too strong for the sight
of a short lifetime

INSECT PRIDE OF ELECTRIC BELT

raw-looking areas and rainbow flowers inject electrical injuries
and reams of silk and satins with little heavy traffic
slipped between rocks to the bottom crackling with an energy
so large that their centers become hollow and fluid-filled areas
as media extends the astral into a ballroom,
silky gloves shaped by a garden
without food or shelter, finally made
into the forest of kelp ethereal

brown glass eyes, a closed mouth recorded
how he wandered the street
tarred roof, ray beams
young heart is more sensitive to hue,
yellow mist body is unmarked,
sagebrush and saltbrush spread ruin of potholes and bad patches,
both bear purple flowers twigs and tiny green into the fry tank

city gas lights on country lanes
forests numbed in finecut squares
bodies like scrotums in cold rain
numb nerves at scorched top ends of telephone
smoke winding faces of anxious dogs
under the long porch in red twilight
I keep our piss valentines
pinched filters neon espresso
river current through fern mazes hanging on
grandmother arms snake young-waisted screaming
to be let down from the air
cubbyholes stuffed tight with pennies and socks
four cylinders of pure craft
eating its way through fog xerox
heart batting under mute lashes
the curtain of certain futures rippling
voices in bark
blades on the climber's handle
banked on a thundering cloud disc
black snow beams roving sheepskin hills
snouts in the rice trough
hindquarters surrendered to a half moon

when the numbers drip upward on newspaper
chattering kids are there with charcoal
pressed to thin chests
sculpted ribs under the fur for an arrowblade
crushed czars talking over dissected chessboards
marble fingers in useless poise
averages laid out in grids on cubed flesh
breeders on parade in birch masks
flogging the heretics of the body
with electronic weapons
unholstered from plutonium pocket forests
the hidden animals fungating
a glacier that resembles their footpaws
replacing all landscape
missile houses fleeing planet to planet
through the spreading saucers of weather report

I'm deep in the guts of a huge building,
working deliberately with a series of hoses,
readying my one golden helmet
to wear as I pleasure you
orally if I can find you

lamps and clocks outside tall windows
tell me it will be too long until
again and again with black and brown hammers
they convince me I can't remember
what I'm waiting for with my mop my headphones
and yellow bucket of polluting suds

paths of tar paths of dirt
stretch from most intimate palm-lines
toward powerfully inconvenient stores
they are staring so long I forget
that I am also staring

NOMADS CONTROLLING THE NEW UTOPIA

And plain blue murder follows deceit against the crankshaft
in psychedelic colors, rigged organism dedicated to squalor,
checked for backlash, blind baby cuckoo naked, out; the fish
are so impressed by touching their wife or girlfriend's pudenda
animal births may take place with control of the air leak,
and a splash of scarlet beneath a spotted shell marks the wrecks
and the smell is foul in the vast sea of humanity,
and eerie forms of life operate out of such stations,
freed from the deforming orbit of Mars
and with different values for the eccentricity
from all parts of the earth. The idea was a good one.
A robot parade helping the body heal itself;
therapeutic dirt and electric belts played the dulcimer, trumpet,
bagpipe, guitar, oboe, and flute, half naked ever,

When an open globe is the surgical fountain of youth and drums
a labyrinth of benches and painters, poets and novelists
have come from the sea. Society collapsed, an ocelot on a leash
tumbled into oblivion severed by a breath
under which the ruins of the night would pass
into vibrating circles of thick, quick-drying saliva
a mass of frog's eggs with piercing blue eyes
that the new planet moved only like a puppy.

THROAT: ANTISHOCK GARMENT AND POND PIANO

heart; heart
of shock in children
pain on the el
because of a larger body

labor, with dizziness
our fingers against failure
to wake the center by the same door
withstands interrupted

the door and a video-electronic entry of evil
a flower garlanded around the mouth
hell time with egg-lay
ribbons of paved road I will eat the lizards

PROMISE

dreaming of force
you'll be so gentle and beautiful
that no one will be able to murder you.

of a dream so large and heavy
it will push all attackers aside
a dark vivid brush to pave
the contests in fake vermilion

and a half-empty skull
to take in harmlessly the enemy's fist
or to wrap you in comfort
up there with sad wings
island crystal in the crush of spontaneous night

snailbird, scarred gears
in a bucket under the body

scarred gears moving again

scarved deeds, for the inadequacies
between bodies always

you cover whole highways in salt
with your small refusal
slashed by town lights,
becalmed by big enough moons.

HOW IT WAS BROKEN FOR ITS PORTRAIT AMONG THE SLICKS

bright years had turned strongly colored to conquer Mars
spirits supposedly cloned themselves fleshpots,
animal equivalents in detached houses,
white tigers of the lunar highlands
brightened with desire, each cell receiving twinkling light
funneling into its center, where plans
for war dry the grass to the radio, and occur
between the tongue magnets,
shoot up to a height out-of-body
enlarge dark reddish, disrupted where it is attached

surface is torn trillions
gills working rubber loops that allow
a bitter, angry thing as an image of the future
green-blue hole in the mud

spindle is inserted into the thigh and moving
rubber of the wall that protects
a cold that ends in death like an allergic river entering the sea

THUNDERSTONE RACEWAY

for Leslie Dorcus

A powerful light is scarring at the icebergs
during contraction, shutting off developements
of the comforts you crave that air currents resolutely oppose
with ragged edges, curved rays or plush cities
along the arc of jewel-like islands
spurts of white-hot dark space, a tunnel, and razzle-dazzle

shifts the darkness of the unknown against
the general current of events, into bright
morning-gold of the most desolate place on earth,
ultrarespectable rebelling slaves
thrive on shadowed rocks in the bounds of etiquette
dancing, singing, or scrambling a clockwork mechanism in the doll
working a system of double shifts beneath the light
of crystal chandeliers

she holds them to blood in gold
and silver ingots, kills her sisters
quickly scattering blue army wagons,
under a mass of information cloaked by smog, and deafened
by days in a queen cell office surrounded by tall pines
nonsense songs flying faster beneath the ribs

sperm shot in vacant kitchens
arcs over ice cream
scoops melting in white china
windows halfway open to the flicker
of an autumn rain red leaves dancing
in the ocean's throat wet towels tied
around faint whimpering necks
brown light shine
through every chimneysmoke crack

every crying mouth the punched side
of de-seeded green olive, steaming guts
stacked knives of broken ceramic,
her sunglasses bouncing off the shivering
window over and over, mouth pursed to eject
keyrings in smoke, offering access
to a pregnant maid braced legs
star furred in the channel
of all conditioned air, bloodshot sight
snapping at the hard boiled eggs
in a roaring refrigerator bed,
teary-eyed sailors unloading
crate after crate of boiled milk
in holographic stacks,

every room's chafed ceiling
quartz boulders raining.

THE POWER OF ELASTIC LIGHTS IN A VANISHED CAGE

He runs this anatomy silently through space,
attracted to those that are something more
whose jaws and pretty mouths piping light
fuse with the sacs on one side of cold planets
as a floating leaf or heater tube of its other fruit
screaming with fear in dazzling light,

the lizard at the rear of the eye
feels himself drifting through a shrunken, dark,
burned out cinder, the machine can hit him
through the exit gates, trimmed in silver,
tiny spaces roar
to travelers of meteorite after meteorite:

leather trunks, slaves, and remains of light,
supersmart egg left a scarred landscape,
machines will look directly at the beauty
and splash their warm limbs in our cold climate.

BURNT HARBOR

watch the teeth of unknown geniuses fall out
one by one in fast motion,
clutch at every failing light
sails on long rotten boards
inhale pure death and breathe it back out
like nothing's ever happened

holographic tunnels converge on the believer
beaver fences keep brown water
at the level of knees,
moon stinks of radiated metal creep
nudging into joints, multiply new hinges
bodies upon body unfolding toward
expanding gravities
kisses complicated by frantic technologies

squirrels and pigeons, skunks of melted color
congregating on false lawns
long foreign blades habituate
violent ultragreen out of the astroturf

hosts boasting empty cascading rooms
putting lipstick on lipstick powder upon powder
to sail on the back of an annihilating knife across
an endless desk
to be one's own secretary, keeper
of volcanic flame
only a polite cough greeting the teeming surface
stomach and lungs whole basements of mutant energy

in the leafscratch of a possum
feel the fear of four tires

smoking a turkish cigarette, with your tits
jutting out, it's going to be one lunar life,
the birch peels past my knees
and above my frame, I'm looking for the sleaziest
churchpeople in town, a bald woman
dragging her life in white plastic,
the pizza place shrouded in blood-colored smoke. Let's

watch the meteor shower decend over the crown
of our blind friend, overreaching on a belt
of travelling magnets,

pregnancy in a moss-inhabited
baseball dugout, staring far past the closing hours
of a gas station to be
whisked by a star-dipper, megaphones in each ear,
closing car doors on the vestigial tail
of each escaping essence, thumps and red leaves
nestled deep in the stereo's shredded wall
of speakers, stop on an ember
going black to grey
for the skyward pull of a series
of flywing yellow lights, sewage treatments
melting paths into the golden side of a hill,
all tailsparks dancing vapors
of a withdrawn bay.

RADIO WAIFS BIND THE BONE

as I came aboard engines on every emergency
from the central core colored in green
water-shedding wild choruses of toad
the center of that center was a diamond wheel:
awe of the living molded horse and its hummingbird
fish loins flower to flower,
no visible wreck of endless tides

shifting pebbles sprout systems
of bright life energy. After cells fire uncontrol
up new rail of the wall hole
all that remains of a blazing valley
must resist and therefore, larger, harder teeth
oral groove rotting meat (see light-colored debris
blast upper screen

lawless quakes, heavy mutations,
all visible in the distance--no guardian octopus

A GLAND FOR LUBRICATING THE GULF'S GENERATOR

Few men ever experience the outside edge of the sudden muteness
lovely, deep telescopic domestic water
with a film over the eye with a lobster on a leash;
thrown out to a machined recess around the entrances to the house,
recycled by inanimate land, legs cold; breasts swollen
fearful of being captured with rueful, humoristic precision,
with a darkened face waving dolls
and back through a mind with electric sensation

around this island heart warriors form once again,
arise from faulty cleft on the center, stand out
against the cool iron grille at the corner of slaughter

their mouthpieces are perfect fine-honed contempt
that only a poor young girl walks over
ornaments of animals in the cosmic winter
graphic tongue made with visible light.
High-arched, V-shaped silken nests that they defend
all get close together inside,
long, silky eyelashes produce clicking sounds
when drug and youth gangs pulse close to this point
grooves must be gorillas at them, absorbing fogs come in
and slip over its global paths and wanderings

a broomstick will become spinach, eggplant,
the tip of the thrust of the tongue to push
across hundreds of light-years, crease is found
as it is unfolded and its song disappeared
drawing body from the crank with your head to the south vinegars
used in the upper part gaze across these cosmic clouds
hanging himself in the powerful anterior allows
smoking or the playing of radios, for

from the airborne part
within the ring of its music the bird was alive,
it sluggishly opened atoms in blue.

THE WHOLE BLOOD BEDROCK OF GOLDEN DREAMS

I sat with my beer, looked up stone stairway in the dark,
and saw twirling around that dark spiral
the robot spirit adding machine motor of city
lit from all sides by gold sprinkled dazzling armies
of the vast canyon rose velvet rough patches and scar tissue
sagged in wet arks of beauty who had sailed the future goo
in a nation of eaters, gentle hills that arch
at the center of fashion, how brother sang a song,
leading a shipload of small, bright regions rubies
and emeralds flash electric stimulus
to the peaceful and bureaucratic artists and writers
avid for metals as a base from which they pursued
a part of the hindbrain, but banners and tapestries
whitewashed a heap of stones
as in several eyes ear river reach out

she would produce a son of the sunspots
to add lilt to her smile; to replace the lost earth,
and coincide with the opening of the rectum and a region
of the brain, thin winds of that huge, delicate vault
grew, lifting the experiments

a rock he carried had a small hotel attached
its metal clasps tarnished with light-bridges rising
accordion-fold and fish-rich river: its leather back
scuffed and below the distant lip
a safer puncture gleaming white field twilight,
sunlight vistas of sparkling lava-cap
just before the candles were clusters of grapes
on the speckle of lights around paired spinal nerves
are hundreds of bubbling granules, each a suit of silver cloth
chamber of the guillotine folded in upon themselves
some robot had to do it

THE PROFESSIONAL WATERING PLACE OF SPECIAL DAYS

for Steve Lindsey

Sponge fishermen move up on those walls
into the cracks, into the past--
indicate money, two hearts to be naked, or in full uniform
to empty all their pockets on an infrastructure
thrown into their centers, being expelled by the young
to the deck line, black wings skitter
on a marble slab under a brighter blue
dancing fountains and water
the wall comes out of the mouth.

You look down at yourself at an iceberg
with tears from the inability to speak;
ice, rainbow, steam, frost, small windows high
to the solar wind, an artificial arm, white eyes
eggs and sperm are melting into shapes of the plant world,
calves, horses, sheep and spherical raindrops
that fill the sky to modern living.

Needles inserted into children; melancholy third mind
or the nude made of tin, the predators roared
all the way to the volcanic chambers,
a doll holding the journey of a drop down to the buttocks
while fanning herself with worse, you speak
there was no universe
the world and sweating
clock is still striking air.

I PERCEIVE SILENT TWINS OF OUR GALAXY

Time could carve a reservoir of mind matter
while you make love, white stone gaze to construct
this view this force
wipe out the record of the world's modern wrecks
and heaps of light--the glowing hundreds
of tendon-like strands--and find nothing.

The reservoir contracts, and so may the fossil
which appeared inside the lid of a heavy airplane
with an entirely different torso; years in the cold and gloom
following the threads of galactic summer,
up the exit tube beats were drummed in time
to a red-glowing naked open cluster
of adaptive radiation.

I stuck an arm elbow-deep in a sunflower's head, the shape
of mouth-breathing temperature all over the house
mingled with ears of crystalline formation,
spicy sauces, and wine blue reflected with destruction
by secret penetrations of all elective mutes.

star white ocean's telephone
is cradled nowhere tonight
whips cloth roof for droplets
to go deep in the mouth

rubber feet engage metal stairways
fire pillows cushion razor clusters
eyes gone pink through brick
receding galaxies, backyard gardens
a thousand palms on one hand
a staring cabbage, the farthest
of an echo

the sky pours laughter over and over
organs blink on and off in the net
the wildest creatures are lit up first and last
long eyes melt their helmets

three separate infrared bands on the horizon and the lights
cold eyed infant is poised
clinging to the rims of a celestial whirlpool
in the circle of ancient stones

II

swallowers)
button eye and green
mask, touched by sunlight.

open tubes.
to be a hybrid
between
delicate weather,
but the color will repeat

LOVE POEM #22: SOLID ORGANS OF THE HOME

aroused as the face was struck
by substance that conceals with the tongue
and listen to the iridescent glow
secure in the shadows meiosis,
to find mirrors covered over with cloth

dwarf, a neutron housewife
in the room where someone has died
the dark molecular cloud, rough
so that they face a door for they will allow
the chromosomes relax
into their two naked-eye comets

pulsar/white
impossible to light a fire that may be scanned
to the next major galaxy the ritual of touching
robotic exploration of light.

THE GOLDEN MILLIONS AT WAR IN TWO REALMS

Go back with power locked deep beneath the crust,
with melancholia in the jumble of innards
to start a frigid march across the concrete freeway
raising fish and oysters shoulder and spine and loins,
gilded boars' heads, plastic-wrapped cubes,
joined together in clusters a tank for protection,
leather dangling behind little whirlpools
overeating spicy foods, bones buried in their sleek sides.

The forelimbs rip up cement floors,
slip and nick the back of his own tongue,
paper and glass, beer cans, midair dismemberment
a wheel in the ocean she sailed on without him
the body and the vampire's colored velvet curtains
bullet-torn, but several seas combined all the nuclear bombs
cereal boxes, splintered cells are bathed in liquid,
girls could go almost anywhere, merely opted
for a new life of the rectum
visited by spectres from the fisherman's world
grinding the diamond into archaic documents
their art-laden craft a thick, black trail of the recent dead,
electrically shielded room torn by wild fluid of a human body,
moods shape our moods
its banks and its bottom