Footprints on the backs of long arms,
linoleum breastplates, shining violet
gingerly replacing the sun,
tree lids anointed by dust,
heated hallways smitten with gas,
a zebra curled up in the palm
of a vibrating hand,
the smile of liquid things
in the hammock of a downward arc,
four streets converging into a melted star,
a fold of soft concrete,
before the muffled languages tap
their earthquake heart,
dancing on the damages of chrome
through the fumes of a setting world.

Soft footed on a broken bridge
toothbrush pocket and a long walk
to the diamond-cracking factory
brother sister nemesis births
loves parched and separated beyond what speaks
doses ripped from fresh suited armor face
frame heard frame ribs frame flesh
in an aching comma
and he follows a rain cloud
to the vast pan of the sea
wearing my clothes and sizzling
there.

In the dawn burn
I saw the earth open a new heart
the crushers on the horizon taking a lunch break
pistons streaked with zinc and the blood of the caves
graphite lungs on the water-wet rock walls
shimmering twilight stored in a fissure of the time stream
in the hidden ground of a thousand year march
to the crag peak land's impossible empire
gushing and walking planetary years
to spill on the belly and bed down
with no calendar drone's bones
as green takes the shutters' transparency.

Boom boom sticky rip
flipped magnets racing lips down
corridor of mercy that melts
the edges of many battles
tool shop of silent ears and rabbit shadows
burning hyacinth thrown against a rippling wall
blade's flight ended in a stump of ages
burned hall's coal mirror of reshaped souls
plucking with finger thumbs
long sounds over the arc of rug fur
ropes around the belly of a drum
signing palm print letters on wood
sending flocks to their unfulfilled longing
whipped with the flick of a list
names assigned like uncooked rice.

Doom of life always present within me
calling bridge to bridge
watching the monkeys on the highway
watching the violence eat shapes and space

cauldron of error which persecutes violence
clogging the blood system of root, error
of oblivion, error
and of wakefulness questioned by constant clamor
near dark and asking light

what palpable being takes air
and recycles its colors, eating
and remembers its wearing cycles, eating
and remembers
its fading nature like a tooth
in the everlasting fabric of resistance.

Fugitive everywhere I go,
few dawn voices,
mostly sliding suns,
pines lapping the ticket of fire,

fugitive everywhere I go,
shrugged off by transport,
severed by extending universe,
newly ported,
ducking through meals,
split by a lunar gash,
knuckled under by tar like fleas, like lice
diminishing in spite of crude multitude,
sagging from angelic haste
and leaving it behind for the maggot's carcass,

fugitive everywhere I go,
I lunch with gigglers to attempt,
I leave with many shadows to burn in,
I stock the haunted cafeteria,
I print the waffles and the stacks of books,
flung to the skim milk,
charged with keeping the temperature gauge lively,
slept on by the slept on,
unsheeted with the sheeted,

fugitive everywhere I go,
I stun the cooler, I slither
onto metal bars,
I crawl through acid pools
on a grown-over and pock marked playground.

Spatially distorted eyes,
wax wings, claw feet on quartz
piling intestines, crossed heart
a walking fog
a tenement bridge in moss
tenor draining wounds
into a high sack
big lit laboratory crashing
the spark from the blade of a plow
drowned into season.

Hey flowerettes, flung down
on hallowed concrete,
do you scream to the belly of my only womb,
do you desecrate, do you break,
is there a speaking in you that decorates
the wet lakeside rocks,
does the park infiltrate
its own service with lapped-up drones,
is we cloaked in a great conspiracy,
pounded and spread
beyond the nature of moss and fog
with a beaming greased nose
reflecting time's hate, time's
moods and time's tug of wounds
convinced by fullness thereof ?

In my animal body
I climb conversations numbingly,
hovering to stare at the blades of a vast fan
above all their heads, painting the air
with a drum, with an echo's heart,
an ass dog, fluted by the twanging calves,
hired by the flame's movement
to see beneath matter
and time.

Shrimp borders shift sodium continents
there are many missing things
and the fluffed horizon
aches like a man taking bread
but the sky woman accomplishes him
and the sinking ice cream parlor accommodates him
and the falling volcano loves his beard and his sneer
and the fucked earth convulses back
with a creaming vengeance
as he cries into the stem of a glass bird
how he needs someone to help him waste his days away
in the longing mountain.

Abysmal boy with beautiful lanterns
eyes promised to nowhere that have mapped the highlands
the syrup of lasses unconquered
glass diners breaking open into lit streets
with only the flow intact
butterfly hands that have found their longing
swooping phones on the head from a sky wire
tears that have turned to copper coins
mirrors that clamor for their footprint slash
he shines the windows between seasons
that have warped each other's borders into ramps.

The clear path painted with blood,
twilight hardening air,
bridges swinging from quick clouds
a torn world in the evening.

Glass shields irritant menus
where sheaths flower
against a wound.
Parks and bars thud
with radiant, smeared voices.
Dusk on salted figures
shot out the streetlights.

Oily hands move over the horizon
and stir the broken glass
with cut skin.  Bankrupt cities
coupled with smokescreen time.

I anchor my life to a cloud
and I am wheeled away.
Days in the painter's cabin
conceiving of nothingness
draped in endless purple.

Cutting thought from sad flesh
wind tapering into the aftermath.
Clothed pinnacles towering wheat.
Knuckles on the dashboard
highways eating mud
high orange needles manifesting
through the dark narrow tree'd roads.

Bridges of the concrete eagle
cracking the glass of city hall's door.

Fountain body, blood spring of leaves
and thorn-led acres, skin trash
picking copper from the moon
under colorless siege, the sun's
sand-printed scimitar, a lone wasp
sweeping ten-mile hallways
with red palms of torn hands,
food codes in the oblivion dome,
the smiling lion at rest, snow's heat
at the spine of his back,
taped pages of stomped-out speech,
carpet's highway of balding maps,
year's creases burning through
to overwhelming light, and digital time
in an orange gravy, stapling
signed corn ears to a dancing frog.

Bright flow of broken sky
feathering on slates to write
the end of life,
xylophone porches dangling wheat,
kissed fur and whipped fur melting eyes
from the ancient glacier's interior,
refrigerated doors protruding tusks,
drums on roofs of stored grain,
boxed-in ribs burning through
the flesh of a fat white belly,
spear tips scrawling in cursive
on the hull of an evil ship,
unraveled hands dangling on busted keys,
a riot of geese in chalk dust halls,
twitching assemblies repainted
in gasoline glories, meteors
furrowing the careful
narcissistic graveyards,
mate carrying mate
into the caverns of blue fire.

Curtains melting on the sun
let through the tinkling ice
from cracked and flowing beyond.

Dunes of plastic salt
surrounding the disabled fuckers.

Slashes that bleed bodies
through the grid's wide fabric.
Those injured by non-earth
limp past

to a basement at the bottom
of a small pond.

In the hollows of ornate empty space
that the body hides,
I place petals with no messages
dripping sulfur, curling on the fire of my bones,
draping the angles with velvet heat,
all earth's trees leading up to a skull
in which the fat of whales and tinker toys are
calculated by a musical laundromat
depositing cigars and masked lips
on the wet concrete's
fractured infinity.

Ribbons roll the sky
she left behind and cleft
from what was closed.
Dawn tapping the earth
from clay-gloved fingers,
birds falling off into woe.
Voices softly sharing harmony
above a picnic table,
bodies of water turned
upside down surrounding
them kissing slime'd air.

Ice floes caught in the bramble river
trembling on thorns
light tapping corners
sky's crunch touching time
blood feathers in the frozen walls
of death's civilization
shelves thin as hair
give way like vagina
houses spinning like dice
items of cared-for exhibitionist history
falling from the dock's city
bright warships wretchedly ripped
and eating the dog shit of their deaths
in the oily, luxuriant
earth water.

Lemongrass highway glowing
cat teeth on the bright fiber optic tips
brown sky raining heat on tap water lakes
broken rocks on the earth's core teeth
long alien tunnels erupting salt
to the fire-branded surface
thirsty trees in the grip of flailing power lines
cones of meat and wood
plunging through wide veins of slain atmosphere
lifting buckets of painted blood
searing blades on the announcement screens
bend to flick hairs they scraped
from the heads of running monks
hills part for the footpath
of a screaming escapee
in the programmed wind.

Bright empty wheels silkscreen
my circulatory body, lifting
wires from satin, pushing shores
of clay from volcanic sand,
flashing alphabets erased
from the backstage eyelids
pulling golden ropes
as they punctuate a graveyard forehead
with leaking light
cracked slates crushed chalk
dust the suit of a corpse
in a strawberry patch
near a jug on a porch
that is holding the dark milk blood
of the myriad galaxies'
alive candelabra.

Terror reflected in the afternoon moon
sun on the armor of daylight
shells that shake the trees
fires blooming in the palm of a hand
bark suits and lichen eyes
computer circuit shields rain spat on
palace doors opening a redwood
moistened eyes on the longest limb
reaching sky or ground
as the earth rejects its seeds
and the golden frames of wide rivers
are stripped by the water's grief
wrapped in lava's robes
and pierced by a thimble.

Slate roof tells the sky's paint lightly
long paths up the hills are tarred and furred
footprints filling up with hail
blades on the eyes of a stone god
lakes of rice and almond milk
draining over the highway salt
mythical hands on the handgrip bronze
that feeds bullets flat noses
and sells needles to the chimney sweeper
backflips on a burning lawn
tubs rattling grain
fish bang in the interrupted corridors
sleep curls on chrome embankments
pouting tits under dissipating skies
ripped faces unwilling to cry to anyone
gathering under the eaves of a bombed-out temple
sex idols clamoring wheat in the temporary time

My crazy lemon with her
crazy old lady teeth
black gummed frenzy across
the grey ashed floor
chasing the echo of
a rat or squirrel
pebbles and peanut foam
in the darkening wall
field opening a face to the split hair
of galaxy crushed and ice
forest gleamed eyes of fear
stirring in the waterglass,
commas hollowing
tipped air.

A failed self-redeemer
I am lost among polarities
seeing the value in wrongness
protecting a fit
shelving costume after costume
on what turns out to be
a janitor's windowsill
freshly shined with strong chemicals
a face coming out of the ice wind
a juggernaut of grins on porcelain floors
listing toward the feedback with a bucket
floating book after book on the cemetery walk
watching fountains from a bench of exploded rock
curved for the sleeping alien head
that hear branches in granite.

Suspended in falling leaves
the flying body gathers
universal wind, atomic eyes
leering back from a tar pit
of water.  Reflected weight
dashing its symetry
in a fit of essence.
Cloth idols encompassing skin.
River side paths burned
to a crisp by angelic feet.
The sky hung with errant banners.
Death on a wheel dripping spikes
of lily's hammer
tagging stones with
powdered wounds.

The moon is a low yellow bucket of blood.
In the markets, in the casket, dull shine
still goes on, thuddingly low
on cascading merchandise,
while the teddy bear drips with eyes.

Purple outskirts roll back
over underground chimneys
and sunken leafy wells.
Porches leer toward vacant water,
the endless sky is restless.

Man's habits and ideas have
run their full course, and now
he will banish himself.

THE HUMAN EARTH ALMANAC

Gardens and farm paddocks plants and water weeds
kingfishers and magpies soldiers entwined writhing parentage
the line of a naked arm
the tender flowers growing from the dark
the cat stalks vertical architecture
bearing strawberries in a matted-row system
infected with clubroot, her mouth lipsticked to match the end of time.

FLASH PORTRAIT

Palisades wrapped in newspaper
stuck to oiled wood
by the blood of the earth
eyes above the whittled spikes
man in a torn bikini
grimacing with hate

JANITORIAL TRIBUTE

Boom boom booty for my mouth
and nose and cock to fuck!
Ferns trembling in the corners
of the dining gardens.
Skylights ruptured by blue paint
submerging sky.  Jokes of falling death
on the speckled ladders.
And her walk by which even
the stereo waves would warp and
bow down to.

Rip a body from the day
that wafts down through iron realms
vomiting forced laughter.

Rip a body from the day that comes
bringing nothing.  Rip a body
from that day and a bunch
of cloth soaked in fever sweat
that gets stuck in its mouth
among the clouds, where
no spirits swim.

And fuck that day.

Lanterns crawled over the flesh
a tower of teeth
grey garments soaked in night pools
the right haircut for a corpse
a silence disclosed by the lips
torn fibers of fluorescent optics boom
glinting home on a garbage plane
watching sun flip the cracked road
and the flying moon eat estate
shut this world barnacle hole
flush it blood throated
with the blood of many
unmissed persons.

Luckless red rock
  our modern color words
     nascent eyes show the female's mantle cavity, and
              the ceiling in strands
               weight of a grain of rice near one of her oviducts

the planting of synthetic names
    blind mouths, wounded prey
              most of the light in the sky

Hillsides crammed with
cabins on a scorched edge
hillsides mapped by blowjob sites
and wheelbarrow routes
hillsides run with beer discarded
cans and tiny bottles running with trash
sand and ash eat the altars
embers blacken on the bouncing stairs
the tops of her feet are hillsides
collapsing in my eyelid's thump.

Circuits over the tar paths
suggest stars.

We have our dressing room it's just like living in a mobile home
wall-to-wall red shag and air conditioning with a double bed
and we have our own brother for people to live in
lots of circuses painted silver
I live on the circus
only circus people get to go there
and play on it

NEW METHODS OF DEATH RACKED THE INVENTION OF IMPRESARIOS FOR OVER FIFTEEN HUNDRED YEARS

Ink supple calfskin jacket

two chicks, a pair of carved walrus tusks

perpetual lawns in the sky the warrior-pope

the leatherback decades, architects, builders, and city plan

green-roof systems of god the oak was the tree of life

mushrooms that Tibetans pick in the summer the life-giving force of

her slender, beautiful form, precursor of the earthbound ideal

bodies like guilds and church orders conical head like an artillery

flat, fine clay of the seabed absorbed

blown off his perch by the hurricane the nude figures allow

recognized as a leatherback primal repose

shades into a silhouette with winglike front flippers

SELF STORAGE

Electrical limbs of distinctive womanly music
that liquid metal falls into my faithless corridors
riverbanks honking on ice to barricade a thin head
that remembers them,

the skull coming apart like a pomegranate shell
lime skinned ants on fire in the graves returning
fronds of earth rhythm that intercept the moon
and spark purple radiance
an ark of lilies and juniper

gods thumping the water in an obscene drill
while lunatic locker rooms erupt in speed and blood
and the pattern of these come apart atop a hieroglyph
letting loose arabesques that quack quack quack
the belly of a fiddle warped by water and vinegar

cutting loose and broken bowed on a high ridge
aloft in the scent of a trillion cooking chickens
swapped for a dim male and numbed
to nurse the aftermath until breathing
the curse of a painted canoe
and a long path to the sea
shitting and creaming in her lacquered spandex.

Winged and helmeted, but otherwise naked as a tobacco store
the hollow shards, the bombers limping granddaughter prototypes
to do a quadruple, catching a hurricane made of pure silver
in our flying act, hoping it's still called a circus
if you fall into the net over warm cake
he likes to ride his motor wherever we're parked
the bright red-orange color is refrigerated.

Fold me up into the void.
Mute my voice in the younger
movements of brothers and sisters.
Turn my grill to the moon.
Having betrayed one tribe
and been rejected by another.
Reshaped by a wave
of feminine form
from the man-torn sky.
Plucked like a berry
angry at the stem.
Taste in the mouth
of the earth's core.
No tart no tea no war
wheat worked of life's hours
flowering from the planet
chaff condom's off
buttery has-been cocks
quill'd with mercurial feathers.

LIFE ZONES WITH SPICED APPLES THAT TICK ALL THE RIGHT BOXES

Emerald island dies
on the crackling earth,
dies flouting its solitude
under a hood of vapor,
cracks descending the soil
that had made its foothold.

And the deer turd path
punched into the snow
with the mold of the imprinted earth
radiating out of it; so that
my eyes dampen at the grace
so recently passed, and the caution
of the thumbprint in the soles
of my feet, weight of consciousness
planet wide stacked on erotic statues
only as a hat's brim scrapes the horizon
highways buried in blood cargo
holograms of private misinformation
fences knocked like paint
hide with the hornets.

Emerald island goes on closing its doors.

STRIKE THE NEW WORLD COLONISTS

Port Royal fell through the ages
into the sea to be divine since the same area had been shaken
God on sin crushed to pieces at the optimist school
them mother mechanics to the seismic waves
until the sandbar quivering land reports its treasures
its tall medieval spires and sulfur long opened cracks in the earth
electrical gable ends fell from brick houses like the waves of the sea
and the famous gilded cricket of human wickedness
that opened at Scituate, on Massachusetts Bay.

From a quartz perch
stung in its fractures
by the dreamed body passing
I speak from my kneecaps
with darts of fire to a tall mouth.

Nobody is talking in the moss highlands
where icy moons carved
a railroad canyon's sides'
homesickness for dynamite.

Posts on electric hill
twitching toward collapsing markets
with a leer in torn plateau
like a ragged knife wound
burning needles and no gold tin.

Herded redwoods sending
cinematic shivers through
the wanderers of sex.

THE STOLEN VILLAGE CARPET

Piles of cow dung to keep people sick
stunted olive trees and stony cornfields
hard-hitting eye creams
romantic old world charm in a nonclassical approach to narrative, space, and time
raw diamond geology and geometry to shoot dozens
bush-clad ridges, fertile plains and rolling labyrinth
stained-glass claw-foot balconies
left no incandescent space
and made bloodless peace
giving him wood-block charge of bright, bizarre castles and palaces
symmetrical compositions forbidden by the government intrigues
a display of wealth accorded low social rank headquarters
dance origins of samurai swordsmanship's autumn shoe

Over hills ribbed as carcass,
over rivers that gleam,
I am stalking my infant
intuition, that only the sun
exists.

Touring emptied ponds
and water-lanes lined
with half-rotted leaves
and scum, the secretive eye
of a muskrat.

Dashing nude to the vines, the vapor,
the sight of snakes, the well
of the ground breaking open
like bread.

CHARTING THE SPLENDORS OF NEURON

The glacier's leading edge
freedom walkers and mountain bikers following the coves and ridge lines
hectares of vineyards and parkland leather aprons
panoramic mudbricks and macrocarpa
the iron x-ray that couples with the shirt collar
reflective door of the theater sharp gypsum crystals
          greasy mud popcorn rocks
                    huddled like gnomes
                         swirling dust and grit

THE PERFECTION OF PILGRIMAGE PORNO GODS

Pinkish flames flickered in the behavior of the mountains
rigging new and vastly harder rock
a crazy quilt  of sponge-textured volcanic collisions
huge, rigid plates in a saucy hat and kinky boots
the provocative androgynous mess
sheets of igneous rock called beautiful apprentices
the accumulations of ash, a hail of hot pumice
while her foot presses down on his hot, plastic face

RHYTHMIC OBSERVATORIES

    Green all over the world
       from rammed earth bricks and roofed with hand-split airborne particles
          in hollow trees or in the abandoned burrows of other mammals
 the earth's crust is alive with this particular point
   the sun and the moon to appear bluish shacks and makeshift volcanoes
     a basic knowledge of earth structures, a rudimentary laboratory
      a column of rock and fire blasted up in one titanic explosion
       with subarctic pastures and scrub conifers
                         black basalt
                                 lacerated
parallel fissures   as if the island had somehow been slashed
 tufted
   with       architecture and art   as the centuries went by

Dragged by the sun
to a chain link corner where
tension is eating the garden of
the face of a man,
the kickball past
a hammer of wood stack fallen
against the firewall, to blanket smiles
with gunk of talk, and eat the daily
news anally.  In the upside down room
a cranium of lead redden fire
boil the swamp top down
with a cool eye of orbit's pressure
warped cone coming down to swing set
lifting off with a thought-hooked
penis and a single desk.

Poor old peter weather gale
went the long milk fence faking it
dramas of love in the belly
of a scorched piano
howls of mercy that turned
into weapons in the morning,
lots of tar tarnished ice
leading down to the weeping of engines
on the grim peak of man,
the hands of hell
with their butter of uselessness
arms hanging limp
as the world they operated
subsides like a wound.

Barnacled sea mask
fallen through the breasts and turf
bruised chin speaking rage
throat pouring teeth
burst head slithering blood ideas
flaxen cemetery of buried wasps
graves of tents and icicle beards
rivulets of bronze cereal
to the corners of the king's den
piling and chuckling in potassium
bubbling at the mustache of health
zone-scanned mask
that has forestalled the slippery futures,
piloting painted arial
over the stones of white moss
clucking geese from the downward path
of a torn sky bugged eyes inwardly diving
green scum of the womb
lit by siren tubes.

Mirror glades with soft green
screws turning
turf smiling in shreds
where the web's gloves
found a canyon
glinting with spraypainted mice
spiders unused by time
and hag's teeth on a
human-made brush
salivating for frozen blood.

Ribbon path staked to the sky
drooping between stations
slipping blades on hinges
harmlessly to the darkened earth
trek dropped from the stars
and the sight of fur.

I will befriend you, absence,
and hollow out your parts
in the mighty wind.

(RECOGNITION ON THIS SCALE WAS IN THE FUTURE; AND WAS PART AND PARCEL)

The brilliant architect, whose dome painted

           the campanile of the cathedral; and

                  outshone his fellows, but in general

            encrusted with

                     rippling strands of

                      indescribably delicate "angel

                              hair" crystals, some 30 feet

                                  cave pearls

                                      whose pristine water is free of calcite

                                        the raw natural diamond

                                    who can congregate in the depths of a holding pattern

                                                 a thousand feet of goose

                                                     the backbone of the power system

Flying cages of aftermore
pursuing halos over factory ideas
burning ferns on picnic high
dwelling green in the water
of the depths where
I lost my engine heart
and regained the anvil.

Fogged moon that softens
the bankrupt sky.
Blades of long grass
holding her feet
to the brick of heaven.
Keening dulcimer
touching quiet tombs
in the chest cavity's
wan valentine.
Wooden tassels that crisp
when attached
to the proper headgear
taking circuits through
the breasts of bronze
and marble things.
Museum with a thick tongue
rolling its embers back and forth
like paper jewels.

Fox trotting through space,
atmosphere on purple ten,
wagging my raw materials
in curr-like fashion.

Spectacles of rose anus
on my hidden eyes.
Ledges falling into the street.
Pickled talk in the flashback concrete.

Striped entrances that skirt the pool.
Knotted walks terrifying blood
and hungry for the womb.

You are training spirals
to go past the body's movements.
And furnishing a sky with bronze escapes.
Grey tempers flare from a locomotive window.
Tear's droplet that is carried
and wound into the steel rails.
Booming pasture and the breast
of bird is the hills.
Shock of reeds from the mouth
of a clown.  Blood on the roots
of a stone temple the mountain
hid.  Hungry women who stride
the wall.  Tickets falling
out of their mouths.

DREAMS OF KNOWING WHEN THE PEOPLE OF THE CIVILIZED EARTH WOULD BE GLAD TO KNOW A WORLD GONE MAD

Time of the beams, and the reported odd behavior of some animals
the trail of an anise-scented bag with simultaneous vertical motions
fish-shape flames swept repeatedly across painters and poets, writers and dancers,
architects of city and suburb nourishment
in which air power would affect a museum or art gallery anywhere

Long walks when the world was
changing, a ringed flag on the hills.
Bit cemeteries pulsing pool light.
Flapping strides that fell through it
like the dailies.  Ignored beauty
that became a spear of eyes.
Pummeling stalk figures with the aid
of the air.  Moving through the dead streets
with the fire of blood.  Diminished time
flaring its ass and nostrils to the
female wind.  Names burned off by
salt and sand in the heat of day.

Staggered harbors, purple cattle
roaming the wounds of the earth,
ships dangling fate of naked bodies in nets.
Fertile tremors of life from the earth
new energies in space
the overcoming thing
in the quells of the heart.

GOLDEN-MANTLED ROYAL BEAVER PARK OF CARNIVORES

The points are the beast squirting chlorine
this chameleon like motes behind a faded window
mountain-framed beans and bullets a slain buffalo's stomach juices
trail junkie who made a gust of wind ripple Your web

THE JOY OF HISTORY

A gentleman powdered his hair, braided it, and often doubled
running naked through the streets, bristling with rockets and machine guns

THE SCOURGING OF THE GRAND DESIGN

Blended into a single holocaust
its subsurface layer of chalk land slumps and ground fissures
seismological data are fed into the tree-encircled old house
kingdom from having kindled a fire with seething liquid
air trembles and rumbles the mountain knee-deep with ash
three small pools of water, one hot and tasteless
lake edifice like an elevator
the levee breach lava lake's plunge of epimagma
the walls of the water and drink sell her body
for their seasonal retreats

Long plains open to gloved hands
eyes in the river boil
for height and cloud
skinny dippers running on the shore path
soil draped and pounded solid on jagged rock
hasty body climbing the veins of a mountain
hasty car from heels & forepaws
botching up on a stone fence dripping sparks
ferns trembling in circles of heat
near the yellowjacket's nest
teepee is a soured bungalow
forts are twined to saplings
in a squirrel crowd
leaves are fluttering to reach
and latex cross and fold the earth

Under bridge paths concrete
sabbath breeze curdling rafters
of cinnamon and salt falling
from grace's caution that the deer speaks
behind hedge growth walls
next to moss rivers
near mailboxes that're never checked
anymore
fogs and tags of a gone era
dissipated into blades
tracks and tan pock marks
green seen from lush
helicopters.

It was my 200th poem of the year
bells were ringing in the deep sky
hurdles of meat froze hard
near the aching water
duck feathers stuck like light
to the eyes of my eyes.

Towers roads to universe axis
sand pebbles and piles of rubble
lips fork to fork tongues
long path to the tent scum lit
where my water tank hides
the bone brush of teeth
and the gift of a fallen man.

Slates on a load of brick
glinting back at a golden moon.
Woofers aspeak through pipes
concrete where leather lounges
cones of melody ice
that tickle the foreplane's tongue.

Clotted rope on fence post land
winding round the worms that crawl it
glinting stones on metal floor of earth
mirror for the sky that finds
suds of otherworldly paint
lapping up on the early shore

The lord of hills is in my eyes
strength of hereafter bloom
levitating in the broken present.

Green infinity calling over a ragged space.
Hustled multitudes spinning chairs
over the strobed floor.

Long diamond sashes
hiding the cracks in the wall.
Scimitar clouds in the
viewpoint of pines,
lonely manchild on a branch
reaching.

The king will be fucked to death.
His perimeter will give way
to black sunshine.

Potatoes whacked apart
like meek logs
broadcasting his nostrils
to the worm farm.

Reeds with trigger hearts
pricking pillows of dull sky
fire of stars above the rented cities.

Culmination of sea's froth
on the sainted upper lip
of a garden walking.

Slipping through the sky in a suit of armor
flashing credentials at the galaxy's fire
hung dancers stomping past
long-handled leaves,
river washing nude
man and woman
together.

Hyperspace sunglasses blink on the dashboard
daylight groans on the septuagenarian
cigarette smoke curls around the dials of the radio.

Flapping skies fall off the planet like a tarp and fade.
Booming systems compromise the telefarm.
Strawberry places guarding illusions of water.

Fences stacked into a palace threaded with black hair
mirror windows bouncing beams
off the eyes that watch them.

Grown gods on the pavement light
pipe veins, knit hats
garbage bag carrier selves
whom I march in my personal repertoire
from chimney to stairwell in cut gloves
chasing authorities over the roofs gashing
long shiny eye horns on an imploded sofa
gazing past a skylight to their bleeding run
cushion wishing for nothing
crawling through the golden catalog I am
pushed into stardom by steam mop of janitor heat
ax buried halfway into the forehead, pale
and screaming in stolen languages
more beautifully than any other.

A WHITE PLAGUE OF STONES FROM THE ROCK SKY

Pumps and channels generate membrane like Stonehenge
earthwork on a knoll open bowl where the bear has just gone over
sunken halls tidal action and orange appear in the trees
a computer programmed  with the path that American tornadoes have
from wing tip to wing tip marked from head to toe with scars Today is my birthday
microscopic nematode worms do all the dirty work I think he's trying to be a tiger
the window becomes a space of both fog nozzles and economic fluids
technologizing the body as a mirror in a theatrical setting

Sweethearts of dill
perched on the tongue-tip
of an erupting syllable
charring rims of gold
with pink flame
nibbling with pen-tips
the edges submerged
of the sacred order
bicycling melted on corners
to break kissingly into orbit
packages boot in the early mail
sailing fire from a plunger's bulge
in the late days of the ocean
when froth fizzled to a touch
rounded shoulder to the womb
rebounding on a sad wheel
to be recycled as heat.

Yards of bled-on salt
crying out for new purpose,
vocals dying against stone.
Numerals of popped rice
flaring oiled light on
a sensitive mask.
Tunnels lit by corpses
of the sun's sisters.
Blown-out ceilings of chrome
writing cursive with heat.
Split yams offering wheat
to the boxed-in mouths.
Crane lifts stripping the lids
from honed orbs.
Body breaking open
into rainbow light.
Fevered acceptance gulps up
the panting warrior of garbage collection.
And a street slams all their brawn
ejaculating cycles under the earth skin
treehouses on unclimbed boughs
forecasting the mute governments of man.

Plaque's got its hold on the blood
minnows of frost fly into the living spark
high-railed trees streaming gelatin
steamed eyes through the socket of planet nest
nets of fallen branch yellowjackets
fast-moving sky on the bones of the back
funkadelic docks in boat-nudging motion
wave on wave rolling poles of the earth
benched bodies rippling with secret strength
strobe light whipping all over the world
salt islands in glazed water whimpering dirt flesh
shining the knob of the sun as it unfurls its signal
plunging it deep in the self that shimmies into the mirror.

Metallic vomit on the windscreen.
Vertebrates bouquet'd in a waterglass.
Wombs pierced by lead.
Horror in the cities, sun's blanket.
Headdress of humanity in flames,
foaming at the pursed mouth.
Hollowed cubbyholes
where sharpened teeth inhabit cute kitchens.
Refrigerated make-outs where a frosty couch
emits moths and speedy smells.
Zooming artillery that blooms in bitter eyes.
Nuts that crack in wooden jaws
while the fibers of a favorite sweater
are melted into the bones.

Cruelties of oak and winter
long beds on tap through silence
working world in a glazed circuit
dribbling this maze unlit upon us
street's fur ripples soft on the flesh of earth
circus disharmony tickling froth of ocean
feet pounding on the tape recorded
reeled out from a drinking fountain's spout
in blood and gum and coins
chalked eyes in a ballpark-size mirror
looming over the curve of water
ton bridged by plaited hair in gel
shining forth from her gassed country
belching glad blue fire over the rail track

Chopped-off corners of air
leaking shadow burn on rock underwear
to eclectic horizon ungrasped
storehouses peppered with weight of stars
shells closed at midnight in electrical orbit
clacking around the tin sun
slathered with oil of a hike's effort
jumping paths of coal contending
for nude feet, cuboid mouths
lady roundness on fire
bunghole man on tarps and descending planes
long ice runs with lipstick prints
sprinting beam that outruns the canyons
horse of twilight tools that uncork the moon
floorboards streaked with blade passes
and a dose of acid wash in a train car
quickening the dim glade for skeletal fibers
passing the eye of a shrew and eating the wreck
for flavor.

Light's journey on a slick path
comes calling me to the garden of ether.
I follow like a dog.

Gored-out days
dripping strings of ugly hearts
into the skunk they pay for.

Tables floored by dead talk
a shine that bounces once
and then lies still as paint.

Famished ways that dance like younglings
grain of dulled eyes
cutting paper flesh.

Diamond of impacted shit
shining like an excavated molar
in a tented cave.

As a tasered eye,
a whacked dragon, moves
out of the one to be with us
zones of controlled water
break out like fingerprints.

Launched neon kissed by dust.
Poised fragments in the shape of a vine's lips.
Snakeskin thorax under a sunken head.
And the torment of clinging to the east
like a flea in vaseline.
And the weight of deliberate errors
on a bolt of electricity.
Static verbals in a knuckle-raked
hallscape, fur combed for death
or further weddings.

Ribs dragged in the honey
of a cup's edge.
Vision thrust to the eyeglass wanting air
tugged freight of somnolent journeys
in a historical garment.
Drummer's vast trunk on a maze
of declining ceremony,
smashed glass-stalks
competing for blood.

Courtyards of smirking plastic
destined for ragged outskirts vein
where the fire of blood keeps everything warm
decks on a cold card table silent hands
the jet-still mouths of harvest
snuggling with an animal tooth.

Long path slides scalped golf balls
to the burnt saucers landing beam slash
furnishing new wounds out of the air,
and feeding paint for masks from them steaming
lard bargains with paper war
aisles of money goods smooched by
a series of smashed heads
bruises on the carver's wrists as usual salt.

Bush stalk burnt low like teeth
retreat from their vegetable
composting orange light in the caged
and rancid autumn whiffleball eyes
mailing bleacher flame paint belts
and rickety monks pulling quiet freight
over the overcast convenience groceries
battery-lit and lurching like
a forged burglar.

I watched the knot of consciousness
watched them mishandle it
falling below it and losing their grip upon it
watched them dressed in its reflections
leaving it untied

I watched the departing and only the departing
the sidelines and the smoke rising in rows from them.

Rainbow coffin handles
gripped by bones of the dead
while flesh lives and laughs
in the velvet interior.
Smokescreen ribs on the sky
peel and crack back
from antique lungs and heart.
Moss letters near the birth canal
that pours water through
a punctured throat.
Bulb of lit wire
pushing painted suns
into the womb to fracture.
Shopping carts that turn to gold
when they hit the grim rapture
of orgasm earth.

Pillars of scream graphs
rounded at the empty corners.
Smiles that cut down trees
while a wheelbarrow the size
of a great lake is waiting.
Sliding churches that morph
into a compass wheel
while mating androids gulp
its simulacrum. Days that spread
across the speedometer like an egg.
Mazes of genital mutilation
that write in blazing cursive letters
on the face of a dim god.

Stampeded roads, that bear
their hoof-marks like bronze vaginas.
A temple's mouth that pours
torn-off and speckled wings.
Statues of velvet that turn off their eyes
when blood shrieks and the candle
of consolidated sky spatters
the shat-on ivory.
Billowing trees surrounding squares
of game-play that's been scratched
by blades of skates.
Mother and child sun
in a fortress of ferns and bow saplings
with arrows of lunar dust to the point
of the aimed deserts.

Energetic orbs that filter
through the body to carom off
universal prison sides, glowing
to outlast the living map.

Deep pipes that ghost the organ's
form, humming floors to sleep
the circuitry of feet, blood's music
anchors every hallway's end,
and pillows chant and coveralls
let go of all.

Balls of wheat and potter's clay
that rip through paper countries.

Geese with microphones
lonely hills of sacred blowjob sites
from the ancient days
planet terraformed by the gaze
of a vibrating hermit,
bard fled from the ski lodge
on fire: belt strapped across the bridge
of the emperor nose, top lip sneering
in animal reawakening;
retreated to a force-field
of imaginary data.

And I hungered in the banquet
of his tower's basement,
betrayed by the binary tribes
in the binary time.

And the map dampened by blood
of long nights clung
to the edge of my gone bed
'til the fabric all round
wrang color and thickened and juiced.

All the flat combed lawns aburst with
purple water.  Leaking sky addresses.
Nicks that canyon when gazed upon.
Decapitations painted and repainted
during supper.  Tubs of the thousand
cast-off snakeskins, lights that hang
over the crust from long unbreakable wires
in the air of the embankment
belief in time, and the choreography
of history, or in this kissed mutt.
Worms of Zeus arcing soil:
the honks overhead reading their alphabet.

Water haunted by hesitant swims,
reflecting houses emptied by the anvil,
cartoon bubbles of dialogue floated
on genital clouds,
peninsula of hardened blood peaking
into the river's mirror of mountain,
pouring hordes of pencil-diving souls
into physical clinics and cynical lecture halls
where I hauled trash to be reproduced.

Island pines
nested by vaporous birds,
depositing furry eggs,
fouling the berry,
heating the shore with root reach,
shingles disrupted by time
light looking back,
streams of rot blank
reaching for the gutter leaves
with their pattern of hands.

Chaos links ways of life
prairie's a flung rug steaming
cataract of swamp life mask
keys to the love of the wind
mind's evaporation in salt and fat
boiling wave at porch step bottom

crabs at the ankles
strings belch electric fire
drum taps on the deloused bed
eyes in the waterfall of eyes wincing
ghost soul of eyes who doesn't comb the mirror
sleep-holder of ghouls who stuns coin
into the box of neon music
champion of the spazz dance
who died laughing on tablets
rose raked with a leaf of his own
skin on his beard.

In the sun-smashed skull
a bicycle path winds hot tar
teeth come out like an ice cream truck
beaming failure

chain link worlds
on a spike through the planet
cloth cabin that undergirds
the vacant hills

stun me stagger me orbit
pile me up with your rays
I'll stalk dams with bratwurst
stammering footsteps in a magnet haul
watching doorways shrapnel
reel deep in the soil of death stamping
I'll build a hole.

For the cherry blossom in the fountain
of the water of life,
torn shades that have broadcast summer,
quake-cracked roads, salt baths
in the pine-led loins
of the hills,
and dark water lying still.

A citadel of bottles
in the storm-packed woods,
ooze of underskin
leaning the horizon,
forked demiurge in the leaking
harmony of upward
canteens on naked spines
berries glinting like coal
candelabra thoughts, trees, nights
pedestal'd on a wish knockoff.

Dapper wands of great effort
in the diving field,
long fins on hot compass of water,
taut mongrel dog
learning to eat upright.

One of the defeated
whose dreams proceed.
Consider my hands:
what more is there
for them to wring into life?

Strumming our graveyards, my cat and I
let ourselves into the big books.

And a wave shapes the world
for our feet.

Ripe dandelions float
on the circuitry of stems
that a moon has pinpricked
with water.

Maps under roof don't point
where their seeds let go
of the green light.

Duration may plant them like notes
in a ship's slab of melting land.

Copper skies may rub them off time
starve highways of hammered clouds
and let them slip through a core
of silken metal,

where echoes find worlds like home
for the curve of bio.

Slab diners worked on the glacier heart
cracked heaves denied the shining web
leaden rabbits in a coin press fire
lots pocked by meteor kisses, glass
notes on the compass raft arrangement
of riddled flowers and soft vines
pouring out of a mechanical water clock
a magazine fist tied to vapor prick
world rippling over a rocking chair
soup cold on a high deck dried leaf
long spoon in a syrup of shadow
to hide the thorn in light
a hair cut barn.

Squirrel feet on harpsichord keys
rivers on tap through electric mouths
the whoosh cube of long empty space
letting off circuits of bronze hair
to the gashes of planet green
violet runs in the sex network of atmosphere
quirking age through a lens of unsacred light
phones of foam thud on dark ears
spilling suds of skin to parched air
trees bathed in their own apple heaps
droids linking ink hands over the rhubarb patch
spastic fences rolling up into cones
drilling wood and wire through earth and oil
reluctant fabrics bleeding through the blossom'd void
on the tin skyscraper's diving board.

Bridges of nightshade
spun by vines of entwined bird bodies,
bones on web of water's map,
a circle of brick eyes painted bread
multiplying hoops of raw blue light
chimneys of weathered salt screaming skate graffiti,
burrito hearts pouring black beans of blood
to the gutter's river of reproductive oil.

Scents of straightened hair
in the sink of the valley.
Stairways cluttered with broken signposts
and sexual bicycles.
Moon ways of concrete ascent
that spin with gang kisses.
Monuments of crud that angle
deep into a heap of lilac.

The body's book, cleft by falling in tar,
porcelain snake on the curved glass
of an all-seeing eye, ponds of flesh
simpering under the silence that overhangs
like a glove with torn fingers
sprinkling stars.

Veranda of broken names
mutated by wind from a different planet.
Basketball that bounces by itself
on a long empty court,
increasing in music.

Stage that takes the milk of life
and puts it under the drill of lights.
Animal without a dance to its name
going under the mothership to fuck it.
Breeze that paws the public floor
with stringed limbs.

Downy feathers fouling harps
on the pleasure-stretch
of a cat's limbs.

Towering island of applied sciences
with a tow rope in the button heart,
sleep of galaxies shaken by bodies,
cavalcade of throat's noises,
purple enclave of shelter.

Mouse torn in my cared cat's teeth,
jangling the transparent light
among picture frames.
Lamps alive with the effort of
an extra floor.

Tilled birth canal of a dancer
who tore down the curtain with thought.
Seminary of failures who bless bread.
Shackles of a dove
flying under the darkness of day.

Nothing brings New England to mind
the reds, golds and yellows of autumn blitz
one hundred twelve still span Vermont waterways and New Hampshire salt
Vermont roads only twelve covered bridges kisses in the long wet highways of
thunder in the thistle on the grapevine

tongue's costume hung on the air
hang-glazed body of warning dreams
prow sunk in pollen depths
wig fractured & spun by pink
an orange pyramid
spilt by oysters:

pock marks of civilization
the hull of eternity,
windows nonetheless part,
lengthen roads of petal sash
past dams and over packed logging roads
where leaps are uneaten by sight,
abandoned, the seeker can free time
lakes and lakes of his saliva
on machine sand.