Lonely American Edward Hopper shadows

bright porch pockets of light

suffused into divine compartments

and silently staring eyes

riding the raging tide that speaks

of many metals

rails that reach under hills and

passionate mountains

laundromats churning turning over time

tickling its starlit belly

putting its raw epiphany

up high on a neon crucifix

sand that glitters on a reckless tongue

machines that breathe

hot air from rigid gills

tendrils to tap electric groaning

enamel pails thatched thick

with piled silver nails

rusted hammer heads

on notched broom handles

cream stacks of cheesecake layers

reamed horizon's bloody gleam.

I walked on empty roads with music

pummeling my head, the

psychedelic patterns of ejected eggs

the sound of rivers I have never seen,

the ground tucked into a folding hole,

the halls of far gone New Hampshire,

a blue gash in the fading gray,

the bell yields, the oars give

a low transparent lick,

the street bulbs pulse

to a roaming beat,

the horns of light kiss,

horizons are shuffled by pale meat,

tubers cross with poison souls,

bronze water speaks,

afflicted families rise from dust,

the cost is a wailing call.

A shell of broken human soul,

a quiet sighing animal, a song,

a torch to watch the hours by

while darkness surges with necessity,

the drums are touched by rain,

the quaking veins are joined on canvas,

joyous tongues arrive with stinging sleet,

the stone winks, I derive from

ancient spirits who incite my awe,

the giant climax of unfolded skies

pours down riveted artificial hills,

the genius of these sad days

remains untouchable and true,

you who have wounded me have also

lifted me up, I care for the midnight teeth

of spanked alien spawn,

the fissure of a granite wall

siphons black red blood,

the sun cools, the moon bursts

into feathers of magnetic dust,

the wheel purrs with living salt,

the names of souls are called,

the bodies fall away

from remembered laughter,

the incompletion is the arc's way home.

The spreading egg of solar system

untying brain from bloodless speculation,

cool units of abstract sound

colliding with floating ears,

the afro of the sun

frying my ectoplasm of echoes,

shorelines touched by lipstick fire

washing over fallen gravestones

and tongues of moss,

frost handled by seeking rays,

stone benches for dreaming bones,

bleached oars left along the vine

of some solitary voyage,

open pathways to the blue hum

of electrically evolving stars

the feather weight of worlds

and all their dancing girls.

U.S.A.

America: once a slave ship,

always a slave ship.

I write your obituary,

motherfucker.

Fuck you into the dust

from which you came.

Abomination of metastasized ambitions,

the fiend with a thousand arms.

Fuck your corny religion,

your stupid songs.

You came too late

and you stayed too long.

New humane angles

in the expanded prison.

New portholes into hell

for pastors and other leaders

to jack off into.

You have made my bone marrow

into a disgusting fucking cartoon.

You have raped my soul

with your lewd, repetitious chanting.

Your advertisements are your reality,

but not in the way you think.

Your crude, drooling vampirism

defines you.

Stay the fuck away from my altar.

Your offerings are putrid,

your prizes are beneath

a poisoned animal's shit.

I live my life as an imaginary being.

Let the gray light fill the room

and paint the corners with waking sleep.

Let the birds gather around

seed-stirred puddles, let the mysterious

chemicals of life rise from around metallic roots,

zones beneath neon giving birth to painted fruit.

May the morning without alarm

bloom over smoky balconies

in the river of a new bohemia,

even in lanes of glass gliding

past my staring eyes in stasis

we do this in remembrance of battered maps

improved with intricate bundles

of ink that the divine fumbled

and gave back to dark matter waterfall

words like limbs are signaling

tongue's heat to the silent veil

nine planets in the path of a snail.

The spider walks my brain

with icicle limbs.

The ground swims.

Stalks go up with descending

bark of leaves, seeds of a different

shadow.  The cryptic nature

of crows, the scent of

burning leather.

Steel wheels on a velvet landscape

long vacant fences.

Turns in gardened alleys that

open up into the sky.

New light on the old burdens,

gathered sparrows following

the uninterrupted omega,

coffins talking to scattered coins,

mercenary soundwaves,

sciences of sex

encouraging torpedoes and bronze

fortresses of stacked meat,

pallets lavished with enchantresses

unruly silence

black clouded word.

Long teeth dripping from a meek mouth

living sinews desperate on concrete

rivers siphoned up into a spaceship

the shapes of sculptured shit

lactating in unmixed paint.

Forked entities with no heads

the scum of painted highways

grid walls of bisected insects

flesh blasted from broadcasting wheels

a cloud of floating skulls

wafting through an open galaxy

as the particles of hot divine substance

are flushed through ungrateful channels

and sprayed upon an ornate clock.