Saturday, December 31, 2016

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

Tuesday, December 27, 2016

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.

Friday, December 23, 2016

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

Thursday, December 22, 2016

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

Wednesday, December 21, 2016

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.

Monday, December 19, 2016

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.

Saturday, December 17, 2016

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.

Monday, December 12, 2016

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.

Wednesday, December 07, 2016

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

Tuesday, December 06, 2016

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

Monday, December 05, 2016

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

Tuesday, November 29, 2016

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.

Monday, November 28, 2016

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.

Wednesday, November 23, 2016

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.

Monday, November 21, 2016

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.

Tuesday, November 15, 2016

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.

Monday, November 14, 2016

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

Saturday, November 12, 2016

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.

Monday, November 07, 2016

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.

Saturday, November 05, 2016

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.

Wednesday, November 02, 2016

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.

Monday, October 31, 2016

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.

Monday, October 24, 2016

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.

Saturday, October 22, 2016

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.

Friday, October 21, 2016

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.

Tuesday, October 18, 2016

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.

Monday, October 17, 2016

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.

Tuesday, October 11, 2016

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.

Saturday, October 08, 2016

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.

Tuesday, October 04, 2016

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.

Sunday, October 02, 2016

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.

Thursday, September 29, 2016

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.

Tuesday, September 27, 2016

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.

Monday, September 26, 2016

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.

Thursday, September 22, 2016

Fern shoes wrapped in newspaper
thudding through the perfect forest
mushrooms floating in propane
reflections of gone spirits in flak
trail zoom broken car bodies
engines leaking blood of time
pine sap on the temples of the head
root shadow painting ceilings now
swamps of latex floating golf balls
past graffiti cathedrals candle penetration
zig zag gods in dome dust
running paths to the junkyard heart
leaves of beard turning over thawed hands
mad eyes on the piston pumping in core's oil

Tuesday, September 20, 2016

Long highlands blossoming like blades
from mountain ridges, salted with
punctured angels, rubber low hills
waiting to catapult the avalanche
that flows through the deformed
skeleton of a fanged moon,
broadcasting rings of violet light
towards a scepter of burned eyes.

Shelves of chopped-up glue
letting go of a black hole.

Monday, September 19, 2016

Grass bodies dimming on the body
of a dying sun.  Hips that swivel
in a coil of snail's shell.
Quartz lemons stuck to a pool's edge
while twilight inhabits a single leaf
from a wire of the moon.
Hallways of photo walls billowing
with red steam from the heart
of an electronic bedroom.
Signposts split by lightning
that falls frozen to a liquid earth.
Chiles split by the knife that lose teeth
on a long tables of dying metal.
The composition of faces coming apart
in a force-field of dirty piano.
Chalk outline of the sun,
valleys of shining blood that hold
its emergent engine.
Moon glowing in the throat of a frog.
Pestle of gravity won by mass,
grinding thistles to bits
meant to cut open the heart,
subtracted from the breeze.
Android buds that break lips.
Cold scissor that invents the cycle's
total collapse.
Vanilla time encrusted in the salt
of its own error.
Boxed-in mouth that screams
eternity through all the wires.
Fern tips tracing loins that erupt
with yellow jackets and wasps,
the city heart of bees,
raped and vacant farms
humming blues beneath tumbling stones
where the nest rhymes with a dead lung.
Townships on pedestal wrists
birdhouses toothpicked into flesh
roads crumbling through wicked circulation
yellow roses pressed in bloom
against the wind's world-wide shield,
rattling on the orb of a blood-shot eye,
iris speaking with infant blood mouth,
houses tangled by their snakes
shedding lights on a battered runway,
ears fanning the portal of the end
light crashing down the arc of a frozen wave
toward the desertion of control's ideas
where ten robins tangle over a vast desperate worm
gripping the lawn with two ends of its bisex
guns of wood arrayed around its table of earth
quarries drained an architect's corpse
his arms in the veins of the hills
twitching with a heartless attack
from the powder of his cinnamon blood.

Thursday, September 15, 2016

Ships of ice land in the sun
make music for fallen radios
sails of silken ears drift through the razor's cumulus
waters crinkle like foil
as the waves are pounded down by a vast hand
oven earth sighs first and last
as her drained passengers escape the grave's fingers
knuckles cracking as multitude's blood ascends to ozone
flames of gold leaf trickle through cranial eyes
outdoor armchairs left to rust on a football field mirror
skeleton's feet kicked up
emptiness waits for guns and blades to melt
a locket hung from the neck has an unbroken keyhole
whose cavern connects to the caves of a sliding mountain

Tuesday, September 13, 2016

Lightning bolt limbs
anchoring the body in the revolt
of an eaten sky.

Yellow rose of mouth
sending a brokenness of blood
through the kneecaps to bend time.

Ditch gardens ruled by salamanders
under half-rotted logs, sink-bugs alit
on blueberries to find tongues,
as orange lives lose tails to small hands
senses recoiling to fall      in the earth's basket
of dry leaves, a crackling atop
the sanitarium of mud.

Frog trills that pierce the ears
above an unfrozen pond,
collywobbles that swim
over sunken shields of stone.

What rends the clouds reaches a skeleton
with propane fists and forms of many
genitalia sculpted in pine sap,
totems of hermaphroditic scripture
in the plain sand stroked by snake's bellies
the cum of a clear-swept day.
Head's a shell of smashed dreams
on the fifteenth third floor
berserk conundrum of body
learning and shaking
grinning life into the mirror of death
my cat and I are suffering spines
she tears her hair out with her teeth
while I do the same to my spirit
music blurred by a fan and wire's creak
ducking through image walls into piping rooms
letting wood sing to the metal that lives
stabbed in the heart by the heart's ideas
naked under the velvet surprising years
newer and older than the water
washing my reluctance
to live
away.

Monday, September 12, 2016

Breeze of tattered voices
flowing over a willing body,
snagging on its luminous hairs,
goblet hands failing to hold water
as a river of blood points to the sky
as the only escape.

Twigs that swivel on aged skin.
Light that seethes from a mottled trunk.
Branches yielding planetary fruit
worlds thrashing their eons
in sorrow of destruction
cresting blooms that ride its fire
blinking to be seen among eyes
that never move, glued fast
to a dead prime mover.
Breasts of the river tip sky
into the ribs of walking death
a bottled smile fills up
with radiated hatchlings
robot birds from the foil
that crows peck;
tools of frozen earth
disintegrate on contact
with the warrior lover's lips
who eats bridges and airplanes;
the cornerstone of sculptured dreams
is flipped to the top
of a skyscraper.
Worlds on tap in smoke
from the fire of a painted journey
pouring eyes behind a gate of oil
rooms in a towering hat that rents space
the killing lid that milks frozen boys
sawblade mouth that frees a flexed abyss
learning blood building cemetery brains
on a capital vapor and a pepper's breast
time's yield of park benches burning
vinyl ponds tobacco gloves
moving dippers through wide water incensed
the barking frogs of innocence
in a four-stringed demonic throat
Dawn wreck on seaside lips
where the caves gulp faint blood
kissing wood where heels broke slate
bark face bark hands
rouge forest on an ember of brocade
tilled earth swallowing shovel bodies
beer veins neglected fate
the rap of water on empty foil
amp corners speaking to coiled wire
thin rubber of a body's hose
pushing the maze of time along a burning deck
watching its labyrinth spaghetti
into mini hatch intestine
hurt smiles that praise its wounds
a clucking edible computer.

Thursday, September 08, 2016

Leaking violet clouds paint rock
and grass with vacant letters
guitar-shaped feet walk over smoldering paths
mute fungoids learn to tongue through their ears
outward brain on a cemetery step
walking to the sky on a smooth incline
where moss slides like silk to the triangle death
savior's planted in granite
long walks on the ceiling of a convenience shop
that lead to a can of fizz stop
keleidoscoped alleys churning gold trash
winged hands on the rooted machine core
that makes love make love
tin switches turning to clay gears
felt buttons that depress eternity
without a click, a daffodil's fist.

Tuesday, September 06, 2016

Islands of green weapon growth to the sky
root feet and flack hands friendly fire
trunk sex split fallen chimneys of seed pod nests
shepherd's stone fallen to the sheep who swing sets
reading pigeon shit script on the bricks
whose cement is a truck's spit thick springs
boinging under ceramic animals
libraries of shattered salt caverns
knuckles brass on deep planted hereafters
string's floss fraying through an open bird's beak
madness branch from vases whose bottoms break
towards the earth and reverse skylights
beaming down on beds that compost bodies
in the rain of afternoon dust, bicycle's instrument
of headlight fucking and pop machines
rolling years of copper to the whirlpool under
ladle's lid tipping steam to an eyelid
friend peppers on the macro wave of grease
islands of shorn fur that rip italics
into the covering of earth between
scattered and punctured tires.
Woods are teeth in the wool
veins clamoring for blood penetration
arcs of swordlike light rending pace
to still time in an urn of forked leaves
lenses dark as a veiled room eats clover
grapes on scattered birch gunshot layers
trespassed paths of ice and needles twining banner
where pasted ferns speak to tangled letter
twigs diverging with a pulse hammer
wigs of coal on cemetery benches
eating rail through spectrum'd eyeglass
sockets in the dried mud of ages
smooth fossils with laser light
flagging seasons with walls that burn
glass tar in the pot that's pestled
by a thousand gouged-out eyes
in orbiting powder.
Will against a window
melts through an arch,
way opens a wave of blood,
circuitry of flowers on a desk
of ice, music burrows through
the marrow of an antenna,
the man who dreams the world
is eating sprigs of sour green
faint light from the chained
vine of a grape, watching
systematic faces impaled
on a galactic pole,
wincing political expressions that die
before their human season passes
rot through the belly of a deep pond,
lick leaves from the fire's surface,
and bow whipped bodies down
to find their sanctums in
a shivering dresser drawer.
On an island of hewn stone
with paws on my eyes
with claws in my wrists
that move fluorescent fibers
in the cracks between earthly seasons
finding peaks of cobalt hue
in the dawn of a diminished mouth,
thumping string that dwells all
the limbs together, a missile of body
to a shadow moon, an orbit hunter,
treading rice and clams
to the crater's pool of tar,
christened by its dead heat and its live heat,
and all the motherfuckers with feathers
who watch from its rib
as its lune-body, earth body
becomes my reflected skin.
I rode the earth with a tinfoil face
plastered to my being, feet wrapped in oil
and seran, tomato of lysergic time
breaking in my mouth.
The moon spoke like a wheel.
All the houses of the city
were arrayed like huge daggers
to await a blessing with violence.
Valleys of clay and concrete
that eat a train in lipstick gridiron.
Pouring smoke that turns
to heavy water in a falling hand.
Death angels that sprinkle
cinnamon on early graves,
laughing at the salt paths
laced with blood that radiate
cells and slope off toward
the drunken sky.  Temples of wheat
curving over stone ghosts and leaking
dawn light on forsaken prairies
where the hedgehog gets lost in a sound
from his own nose.

Friday, September 02, 2016

Glaze of blood on eyes
never covered by a blink,
flickering gaze that eats tired bodies,
roads divulging worms and snakes
that broadcast the colors of humanity
squirming in gasoline paint
to eat the galaxies of reflected sky
with their own death,
as playgrounds fly through the air
severed from their old realities
by fire and by salt, by
humor and by murder,
by the killer who cares
and the long silent one who
undoes all that has been
done with a single whisper.

Thursday, September 01, 2016

Stacked scenarios of peacock kaleidoscope
thriving in a dance on glass fire field
canals of river's children washing sewage from a wall
stairwells mated to reptilian embraces
garages of parked deathmobiles
rattled by hot light and cold wind
while townships rise through a ruptured navel
tousled metal gathering around the gaze
of an ice child, embedded in a gliding
glacier wall that flattens
prairie daisies like pedestrians.
Empty paths
that I filled alone.
Ways nobody would walk
that I danced with aplomb.
Railways that came up around me
and then faded.
Moving skies that will never settle.
Evil trains that disappear.
Buffalo thunder out of the earth.
Skinny dippers in engine oil.
Exhaust pipes jutting from mouths
in place of tongues.
Wheels with elbows sticking
out of them, bloodied by every rut.

Tuesday, August 30, 2016

Bicycle rolls the high hill
into a ball of putty.
Warped wheels speak to pine needles
rounding the bend to brick sanctuary
plummeting home in the genitals of a church.

Long towers of clay speak to bird's feet.
Brazen beaks peck yesterday's shit.
Benches  re-shape the spines
of wandering re-shapers who
duck attic entrances to speak boiling air
past the frozen nostrils
on ancient horses, molded in bronze
and steel to strengthen silence.

Dead kittens in a stone bird bath
bowl, blood decorated by clustered
leaves, fallen from the veins
of the sky, faintly creaking
in the zone of no laughter.

The way must be broken to breathe,
space latched needs matter to eat,
skin soldered by time needs a mind
to dance prints with, the frolic of murder
melted by birth after birth in tandem dresses.

Monday, August 29, 2016

I'm bouncing on my own body
with a spirit found in the rain,
tickling his runny nose with an arrow,
bowing his violin with a fan blade,
pushing all his wind
with a tunnel to an airplane,
flinging luggage at his feet
leather on leather light,
tooling the trees of earth
into a venusian infrastructure
of steaming pussy willows,
I inhabit my body with drawstrings
of sadness, layers of impacted
iguana, shivers from martian lake floor,
ice runways pocked by
spiked heels, and falling forms in a haze
of projected blue blood.
Cherry from the dark sky,
compact traveler, species of blood moon
living in a mask of colorless before
or a shrine of violet bathed hereafter.

Scrapers positioned in a rut
as a smoked and reeking bouquet.
Blueberries whose stems are
a peephole filled with typewriters.
Sword of grass that scratch the iris
of a fallen giant as he slipped
on an ax in the compost heap.

Dragonfly glued to a rooster's head,
moving its wings like the chicken's thought.
A multitude of dead hens
scattered around him like soft
red sacks.  And the porch
lifting off like a saucer
over the long lawn, spilling humans
into an oval-shaped vat
of laundry detergent.
Blonde dagger of waif stone
kissing water with blood
salting the doorway's speed bump
to evaporate into fire with a chain
whistling beaks between toes
and tar and glass fragments
the straining sack of a broken atlas
lifting a snow globe unfurling nativity sperm
learning the river's slit wrists
as it nudges the gap in the bulb
fondling solar slabs detachment
with a universal hand.

Saturday, August 27, 2016

Free moving sounds hid pastels in the backbrain
lovers in sand make mirrors
dripping faucets collect invisible blood
kitchenette clubs break linoleum ribs
staircase eyes find a handhold in your groin
burnt shoulders release arms into the sky oven
whips of sight drive infinite vagina
through the cortex of saints
to meld blood with solitude
that is flushed by blood.
Champion meat throwers
celebrating a long unwashed floor together
while grins sprinkle grease boards
tongue knives separating long links of pain
cheese knuckles blooming in dead eyes
garlic cunt in a high mirror
traffic of easing water
through a boiling knob of keys
a wind of automobiles
making love to stagnant air
as destiny takes and drinks its own wings
to reproduce perfection.

Thursday, August 25, 2016

Darling razor cupulas
carving table tops with weary hands
while the room erodes like a sock in the soil
voices are pulped and noise blooms
broken urinals talk beauty
flings chandelier the sacred spirit's core
sleds slick the hill to death
under the sexless straight flank
of an eighteen-wheeler
jets push the box of stolen gardens
into a blacked-out rose
and through the threaded sky
with anus-baked goods
driveling down the valley sides with
silky scum to eat the fortunes
of the forsaken river
locked doors losing frame
around a fire's placemat
windows painted half to be a looking glass
wasp sex on the sill
that time held for the sun to punch
falling into residence with dulled open eyes
looking the trees through screens
past ponds that spout
with the language of chameleon leagues.

Tuesday, August 23, 2016

THE VISIONARIES OF SLOW DANCE MOBILE EARTH

those psychological chains is religion,
shock troops of humanity in the white man's image
the nation of gods and mountains down into the denser sea bottom

diaphragm which force air have gotten out of their hands
fossils and land bridges strips of continent
lightweight rocks of oceanic crust

Africans, the first humans and creators of the spinning of the earth
believed that every aspect of life belongs to the same puzzle
manifestations of God with savage fury inside plastic garment bags

you can put layers of invaders newspapers for a supernatural power
against a wall into tin cans middleman Gods blanket and spread
legs of the bed not cool the air, but move it

Monday, August 22, 2016

Long green lands of disruption
eyeglass full of pearls glued
to the onlooker melting his grasp on worlds
spiked crutches under his arms attached
to a battery that pumps blueberry juice
through the rictus of a hung smile
a face that burned through mountains of rubbish
light of a distant galaxy's purple wound
pressing hard on the bridge of his cut nose
intestines filling with ice cream
rump loins hugging the funnel
to devour more sugar, space
Village in a crater pocket
sending smoke through steam
owner of a golden mouth yawning
to take in the silver world
through a dream house of cum on hot rocks
stirring ice in a whirl pool
against the current with a haircut
searing gestures of dance laser a broken chalkboard
schooled rhombuses growing iguana limbs
bathtubs of eyeball in fresh gasoline
lids gone to the prince of blindness rich
blasting the poor with arrogant information and clementine peels
peanut shells muffled in condom
ripples the preening brain
Bang bang life for losers of life
fucking hag scenery eating
seedling smiles buried in a long hill
sprouting bodies moving air with their mouths
moving metal with their hands
making it speak for them like a bitch
making their talk smash glass
and wooden doors machine through the ear
that waits at the end of a warped hall
creaking and creaking for the oil of music
a drum that fled melted houses
to be rolled by hands that have
arms to the sky with heart's traditional pulse
keeping the giantism at bay
with extraterrestrial bouquets
of fuming penises.
Dolls in pain poses eventually
bleeding through into time,
hooding their chemistry of eyes
in a shadow their beautiful blade
created.  Heights that it touched
to wrap a sky around.
Universes that open to it
whole one after another
crashing in simultaneity.
Every dragon drop of the last time
subsumed in ferocity.
Feverish terror of arks
long arms and legs in the water.
Island movement
like a planet in the light
tugging somewhere to
nowhere in particular.
Bodies as cream eyes.
Vultures on fire with the cream.
Totally mesmerized upper windows,
leaning readers regaling powerline
faces, history's bitches who eat paint.
Mesmerist of secret terror,
ogling the rift between worlds.
Forehead pierced by the emergence
of warrior thoughts, unused
while the hands made gods,
old theater come out of the earth
with new lights.

Throat that vibrates the continents
like stepchildren, piano teeth
that descend from the shackles of
a bloodied tree with freshly
imprinted leaves.
I carry my prison head
on a decreasing stick.
Dreams rainbow out of it
like radiation.  Light's window
lays its movement all over me.
The muffled birth becomes
a cavern.  The muffled train
becomes a man's eyes.

Thursday, August 18, 2016

Pink coverlet of the earth
moon's sabotaged frown on glass
where it breaks into pathological letters
ringed eyes in the squared distance
smashed toes on the ship's hologram hull
where its blade is a wall that descends
prow lips pull the prism of man's creation
into a faint bomb matrix strobe
salt without meat on the sanctuary floor
bones dancing in terror for radioactive nurses
wet sand in the sanctuary's eyes
sand dollars living in the sanctuary's paw
crying a diamond pyramid hex through a grip stigmata
nightgown slipping from her continents and seas

THE WAY OF THE UNDERPINNING TO SCAN GOD MANKIND

Nation of earths, proving the existence of land bridges, the scroll and key, and
the intricate folding of satanic swirl passed as swiftly
as it had come--and, as a metaphorical transparency.
Seven poking above the waves to form the neocortex
ocean floors moving like conveyor belts before their creations
culminating in hue-mans rotating objects away from the center of every land mass
a series of linked spaghetti pipes through ocean sediment spoon-feed
to the production of superb swords and armor over each of the paleomagnetic poles
curved across the northern landforms toward the eyeline door

Monday, August 15, 2016

The stock of laughter poisoned by lovely lips
pond of discarded tires staring under the moon
long lines strung overhead of moving ships
cargo of colored air
symetries of madness mated by plastic
overload of planet suns
pushing perfect numbers to peacock plenitude
knives fallen under a bed
dish of leaves that presupposes a book
the hand that comes out of the bunghole to steal the eye
and pleasure the silence of god
with island flowers
wreckage of rubies
running water to the hungry arc
Mystique we brought as wonderbread gods
slid ditches in blueberry light
pocketing birds for later
slid needles on a carpet long as the world
taping eyes to things
holding mirrors to our exits
taping penises onto the preacher
gnashing with grocery list please
list the pies
stringing and strunging the overhung
air that we breathe with extra
dappled with early light in the lake dark
thundering cake in the belly of the heart
lining up for dog meat with bright found tickets
couch in the eyes fundamental
buttocks in the eyes
total care of an error falling into the sun

Thursday, August 11, 2016

Distant woman, turn my dark crater
into a high mountain on fire,
bulb my highways turn my bus of
chalk thrones through dusk
to the honey of daylight; break my
shadow with fog, so that my bones
can find ease in what water made.

Engrossed woman, make my nudity rise
from the shone of where you bury your
eyes, so that I can teach you new sex
on the alley of your fine table.

Woman deranged and healed by loneliness,
walk the beach I will buy for you
in dreams we left trailing trains
many departures ago.
Open this lunar car,
spill its contents onto the sun
and break up into diamonds
with me there, while the blood
we are waits to be spread.

Tuesday, August 09, 2016

Inside your wig
the hundred thousand thoughts turn
like particles of purple dust
taking over the storm of the skeleton
with wallpaper molding and hummingbird films
with a shaft through feathers
with a valley of stacked cans
and open cans with honey flashing
prairies of life-force denied in mushroom gas
slick pools of infinitely reflected eyes
money propellers against the boardroom sky
felons of thought eating crackers and dreaming

Monday, August 08, 2016

Scooped-out towns of the unknown,
rubbing kerosene on mattress springs,
singing to rubble fields tombs of pipe
left blazing with the echo unhired,
big squares to the sun topple prism,
lenses on floating light that imitates bright water.

Underbelly of the highway
hiked by spiders,
lasso of regret that hijacks
the intent of the dead,
fire a gun in my heart,
put the swab in my lungs to work,
italics of blood float out of my ribs
like tumbleweeds.

Overlord of the overpass
dropping apples and bicycles,
particles of darkened matter,
kisses that rescue the spirit
from a bleach on the body's crutch,
boiling pine tops that burst
the glass of the eyes with firm heights.
America strong and strange,
fierce with a new born age.
Torn prairies that still
sing of honey.
Bars in the mind's cage
melted by potent futures.
Fractures in the vinyl attic
weaving the imperfect pattern
to smile on fire.
The body unfurls.
Stillness calls, is gone.
This waiting is all I have ever done.

Saturday, August 06, 2016

Long calls from
the thick border of sense,
long wigs and long eyelashes
hung on the bed's corner
long sighs from the long long bed
flung telephones blinking captive light
in the pink belly of the beast,
with furniture.

Heart-wrung animals
cornering power for themselves and others,
we think on planes, imagination monied.
The brims of the cloud are fleeting purple
that the eternal heart is made of here,
in subliminal traffic.  Gaze on gaze
melts off while the green is on
all over the world, at gunpoint.

Friday, August 05, 2016

Films of robot Jesus films of saints fucking
films of bedraggled swamp rivers
bejeweled with broken technology
films of numbered fists
films of reptile huggers
films of us both perfected by lightning
projected on summer's bedsheets
by the crying winter
flags of sun filmed by white ants
crescents that carved humanity from coal
butts of lunar pork all slain in daylight
sad parking lots and tree centers
ravaged by the lay of hose
the screaming of a chemical statehouse
snakes of perfection crawling film

Tuesday, August 02, 2016

Fathomless statue moves dance
into a new paradigm
runway of desert glass
fire paved through the eyes
of the watcher's vengeance
who records and records
tapes turning in the cream of the anus
monocles dripping off
in the sun's radio spray
down the spinner's torso
in a liquid wave of sky's heat
coming on.  Dawn jots a pox
of ink on the breakfast tablet
new sleep of day new dagger
in the engine new slugs
of nothingness on the dashboard
less and less of the womb
egg's wall of flesh the envelope
of death the plant's stalk
of a polar ram protrudes
from the belly of the stomach.
And the tits of silence rescue him roundly.

Monday, August 01, 2016

A hum in the open mouth
of a cut guitar,
eye's dwelling captured by fools,
death on the march in your body's gaze,
your birth-cord troubled by electricity,
you fall down.  Nothing follows
for a long time.  Room opens up
into room.  Death opens into life.
Someone will share the dance you missed
with another.  Someone will finish the drink
you put down, never to return to the party.
Solo dancer inhabits all who hung
in solitude to breathe,
and they in him like a blade,
his carving hand broader than the land
godlike and horrible.

Saturday, July 30, 2016

My friend is gone to the large world over one hill;
he paces a new lit room among the tousled furniture.
Spreading his parchments along
the steady blocks in time's fire
cubed for empty daylight,
held open for blood's infinity
by a blue feather and a sign
of the netherworld's eagle,
pounced on by the dark sky
afloat in the rain like a post dragon--
fuck the air, fuck the people on the air,
dawn's footpath lay open the lawn that blooms
from a cut swipe of what's fought with all the gods
and lost like a reborn man--
I put on Ornette's 'Of Human Feelings'--a thing
we have hammered out
with sweet incompleteness.
Societies cut the head off a conquest and hang it on the branch on the shepherd
she said the tree from which his conquests hung laden with the caustic
strong enough to lift continents was a thriving drug in the wide prairies
valley floor colored a lurid red bounded by a great hunter and he taught the pale man to merge
algae sprawl have shaped most of the earth's knowledge of the mysteries and are illuminated

Thursday, July 28, 2016

Trumpet sinks in the mud
of the hills, between the roots
like work-hard fingers, flat
tribute to death pounded permanent
by the heels of the living.

Rimmed by fire, dancing twirl
cabin-size transparent dice,
praise with the sense orbs of the buttocks
gravity's lips, acapella buried
here in the click track of our drum machine steps.

Sin runs under the town,
in its sanction of holographic leather,
shining the drains with a sarcophagus hand,
moving in frontal fur what they eat
in jellied light from the hand
of a cloaked heart's master.

And the same from stone
horn buried in the hill
that it's ever gave.

SHIP WITCH

Her long hands are short in the street's life
pouring a salt river through a visor-shaped hole in the air
of dimension space, taking the walk of cement sun guts
on an arching slope
that become a cipher of ice
towering circle of icicles
for the world to look over.

Turning hoop of ages that carries
its melting sections with
sacred geometry, putting forth
its radiance.

LONG AMERICA

Lengthening string balloon roads
highways lifting off in a spidery manner
through the clouds that birthed them;
strands of battered theocratic thought
rainbowed around a grateful anus
spirit pretzeled in the dirty prism of time
trying like a river through dried earth
to speak, rigging the sled-ride of foreign skies
to observe the kissed defusing
by scattered walls, worlds on a chain
dance bounces around the neck
of an arrived traveler, clutching
the fabric of identity as it
disintegrates in an elevator;
as it come off it clings hearts
soul to torso, more so and more so
is what's desirable.

Tuesday, July 26, 2016

Viewing systems finally turned the concave mirror of billions
both religions that are not ours originally, fleecing Africa's diaphragm
to satisfy a culture's desire--as a tent, a carriage, a sedan taught punishment
bloodsuckers of the poor arranging setting, lighting, costume bunching onion seeds
natural enemies of the people through a suspenseful process of narrative developement
confusion, chaos, vanity, nothingness interrupted by the offscreen sound
Christmas started in Babylon setting the timer of the bomb
black represents life which is why we were called hue-mans
the first of our true scallion coming from instruments in the story space
like a football game climbing a sheer cliff

CHURCH MOUNTAINS

Planet from the original people
chock-full of antiques.

Monday, July 25, 2016

Stammering twilight conquers a dancer's body
peninsulas of salt rock rise
from the belly of the earth to imprint
the back lawn and the front lawn
of a gone house's many fallen moons
foundation filled with brightness' cluster of dead leaves
scattered representative, in twigs released
of an eye that sees, from all,
is building a tractor beam of writhing bodies
to the bulldozer sun.
Experts torn from the wind and trees and screens
shaking formula off their fingertips;
sprouting from their ditches of ether
with new hands and new fingertips
breaking the construct of themselves to think like water,
mapping the contours of the earth with their radiant bellies,
dodging a worm in the print
to be a hollow gram in the pitcher
unpoured, silent captive
of this painting who invites madness.

BROKEN CIPHER.

I remember the glee of the apocalyptoids
preying on the end of the their world
to the tune of celestial beings
taking turns at shitting

Shine on the river's gas
crass spaceships passing
tall trees brush the underside like vacuum cleaners
bristles move light
field follows the pathway of water
flowing out of a busted heart and lung
hemmed in by rock
to move toward broken spray
with all its flow intact to the pinpoint
where it eats mountain core
where light is a hammer
veil is a wound
long cage is upended on high
blood spills out of the face of god
god spills out of the face of blood
the floor of botched earth
is papered with remembrances.

Long rushes of willow go
over the firm embankment
thinking and thinking in strands
while they are touched
indifferently by the wind
and made by my mind
into weapons to touch myself with
a station's bathroom window
to watch the fire
crawl on their city of death like child.

Thursday, July 21, 2016

Fur lined shelves of fallen trees
shadow the walk where my knees
imprint cookie dough with dark
blood of the long journey I drank
earth torn by the root's fist
clenched whip of received color
dousing foundation corners as it flicks frost
crowbar cock leaves a sand dollar's face
in bleached stretches of sand
the plane's wing buried for an umbrella's knife
coupled with cans of trash
mineral bump on a breastbone
garden divider reptile spine
kissing the razor'd air
hairline of fire transport
tugging bass over a quarry stone
feet strapped to gravity
like a wound in a chameleon's mouth.
Beautiful woman, you fix the walk of an ivory dancer,
your lip sticks its flag in the clouds,
you put a sticky curve in all the telephone poles,
you make the wires groan,
you make my loving pen need to write you down,
your intelligence makes me kick my books,
your face is the apple that silence ate, for itself,
in a hall where my heart does not wander.
Rug top and roof top melded
shrink on a shrinkwrapped soul
to feed essence of shivering mineral
stark rumor of cloudless water
to the goddess mouth of the earth;
body of dog falling trembling
through her echoless trellis
clay lip that withholds the oil
of lotion crack broken mind
live corpse on a desk walking sleep
inhabited by clothes; dusk lips
murmuring cobwebbed books
gone cases of crystal's salt
in the entrance to twisted caves
that are the map of the galactic tree
burning and lasered with robot seedlings
thickening an inner froth light
to piss eggs of saturnine turning
on a lime road patted lined by bodies
ribs open to butter and frankincense
clenching and wheezing moon
on a pregnancy of electrode bulb
that radios no meek vulvaic volcano;
the target a third eye print
that has rotated time like a dick's idea.

Wednesday, July 20, 2016

Cover stories like the sun
counterparts of the Madonna statues of gold:
more mutations, men originate from African women.

Eve, or Mom the base of our evolutionary tree the oldest of all
bushmen, pioneering seasons constantly changing film
passed by mothers of gilt-domed Goddess Isis to create God
the form of the wizard was Isis and Horus; marshes into solid land
lagoons behind the marshes of the coastal plain
to be dispersed through an inlet out into the open

I am Queen covered with silver who earths learn
and the pinnacles with gold from their numbers,
human voices, and din and clatter of ivory, curiously orichalc;
the site of Atlantis innumerable

Tuesday, July 19, 2016

IMAGE)?

Black woman is mother of the sun
the mystery schools the way you believe in dead individuals
the office's thin pillars and low deep space and deep focus, pyramid walls
and persecution by the state and religious leaders controlled by those elements
sides of a gigantic room is the supreme being--black man
those who were put to death for teaching righteousness
once dead, they were worshipped and made the adjustments in the camera
its own formal pattern, its own development, its suspense develops; we start to ask how
(made in his image), why would not we grow
woman's role as Jesus
we are the creators of all creations my brothers and sisters
controllers of these elements realize that his power over the public is not great enough

Monday, July 18, 2016

Clay footsteps filled with oil
trail from electronic towers
bundled in light, cumming wire
across clawed sky.  Crumpled
goddess on a park bench,
streaming with  urinating newspapers
and trash can speakers, foaming with
the relative innocence of death,
mouth cloaked in a rictus of styrofoam.
Seedpod's fluff
on the daughter of nightmare clouds,
circulating backwards violin
through iron fences of lipstick.
And her hands on an eaten bird's twilight,
thumbnail's door to the world of slate
dancers who never lie down.

CIPHER.

Since I am an empty vessel,
the life of water makes room
in me, born hard
from a boiling river,
I circle the encampment of pigs,
with the murder of destroyers
in my eyes and ribs,
calm as a milk-cat, eating air
like it's my prize, buttocks
tenderly parted by dance
to shit on the cage
they have brought out in my heart,
for me to work with like a bitch,
as the sun is glossed over by the million
pale eyelids, as the earth is
ignored, as the battering ram melts
through my divine cycle,
as the empty square bleeds
red bricks of light
on the raging fullness torn into voice
glade's mutation of the holy spirit
fertilizing echoes with salt.
Bare windows on empty light
brickwalk baked into the mind
chain fence on fire with ragged letters
leading an eagle form in scissor blades
trickling galaxy tree onto a butter knife
through which the eye melts toward life's core
weeping on mated equipment
building pyramids on thighs and kneecaps
dialing a lunar eclipse inside a coffee table
singing glass that enters the ocean
parking lot of soda cans stolen from a glacier
sword in an iceberg that sinks
the breath that moves the wind
thwacked errorless womb

Thursday, July 14, 2016

Tornadoes of tumbled hair
slipping over the taut skin
of pressured daylight;
icebergs spiked by tin towns
split flags opening like broken paws
on the drift of throttled voices.

The prow of a living island
zooms through birches,
diseased maples, canoes of charcoal,
lips burned by the moon
forced through an acid-fueled
radio, relentless surge
of blood-darkened water.

Wild felines clinging to busted
stalks, eyes lit by dials of
a criminal laundry, blades of bone
framed in soaked fur, snaggle-toothed
by unsated longing, crying with the tones
of those who mate with hammered synthesis
of daffodil and rose.

Tuesday, July 12, 2016

Scissors cut between trees
to let in the island light;
paths wind on plunging roots
holding up the soil of dead bodies--
a foothold of impacted foundation
that smells like flame.
Long starred walks undulate carpet trees
my body made by drift is shaped
to ride the flaps of all
in its laundered vortex
for a sliced drink
that dribbles down a palace of moss.

Monday, July 11, 2016

There are no energy configurations that are not from God and that are not God.
Goddess Isis conjectured that the sheets of lava had been generated like more Gods by Atum.
The Black Christ from the Black Egypt separated from the next by a layer of clay,
natural, unseen ethereal beings worshipped today as the unmoved mover
ridges and hillocks overgrown with vegetation kept in the mystery schools and temples
we live on; the sciences; and can give or take life, to obtain their planet
God before showing and proving among the most fecund
God's actions the rocky, mist-shrouded headlands to control the masses
God really is the foundation of religion--the atom.
The early African understanding of God was the primary branch the best
who is responsible?

Eye in the miles; the sun; water; and the open eye, as seen
omnipotent the building blocks of all life on the shoreline

Thursday, July 07, 2016

Brambles around a cake of pillows
with an imprint of the body that created
and punched through its surroundings
before it fell all the way through the core
to get a costume, body's missile from gardens
with a crown of poisonous leaves and a treehouse mind
building wallpaper on the air that he breathed
into existence; parchment of eyes that have seen
their love in an ocean of poisoned water
burn to rise from the fallen kingdoms
and seed his own on a mushroom
island cloud, the imprint of his endless
sound inside out
Earths came out to welcome the father and earths first evolved
Nun God emerged from Egyptians, when Egypt was all
Ptah first emerged from the story of creative powers
Ptah in the form of a hill absorbed the primeval waters
the God force as the source of all, the being white civilization had not
for all and the multiplicity of energy one such story was
that we are all of one origin and that the multiplicity of creation is remembered
replacing one mystery god by sitting upon man with his spiritual nature and
God-like powers and fiery speeches near the end of time,
to save the lost and separate them from their sheep
God would come purchasing millions of dollars worth of fish
the symbol of the ever-long cannot be yellow!
the sun, the universal symbol of hot gravity
ascends higher and joins black black black black black

INTO THE MENTAL HEAVEN

The male seed in full has seven sides
the crescent moon woman (without child);
shows reflected light (truth the white background of the flag
white clouds of deception with other mists same people: one
to conceal the true and living god, who is yellow bloom
is black, the original color of the sun(anything we can help give
with all these gifts we place our mental hell
our lost brothers and sisters solar facts;
themselves rain, hail, snow and earthquakes
energy derived of that creative everywhere and in everything
miles of the earth's surface supreme being
our people before the sub-division), maker
of the planet earth, father of the temple he taught karate
born from the knowledge to Allah
scientist who unlocked the silk merchant
white people's narcotic trickery for magical help
the hell unknown to us because of our captivity in America
the zero in our number system
eating the filthy pig
a high-powered rifle with knowledge of self.

Tuesday, July 05, 2016

NATION CUT UP

We are the poor
who have been stolen from and lied to
we know who God is
for we know that our babies are born
original people, who are the fathers and mothers
goddesses of antiquity such as Isis
languages spoken in silence
alphabets that were created by Allah
so that we can be mastered
by the sun, moon and stars
and out loud by man
to see that the gods deal in numerals and shades
the long absent pride
and actions of uncivilized beings
human families of the planet earth
a freedom people
The twinkling of death's world
from an airplane.
Sidewalk lives that never leave
their burning strip.
Museums of murdered peacocks
dripping red wine from
their torn flanks.
Rib cage of essence that lives
at an expense.
The void from silence opens an
ellipse, and then another, in the
greenhouse bath of ether.
What follows uncertain dancers
is a 360 eyeball on stilts,
mugging its pocked earth
verbatim.
Sills sit on glass under
broken mounds, hitched pipes,
digitized windows winking back
at a deep valley of pine.
A surfeit of breathing actors, on a tidal wave,
strutting the slope of death.
Iris black pupils dancing from
skirt to skirt, in great height
the years that pass between us
leaving weight.  Purple outcropping
reaches hope in a flying saucer's
wall, its hub of inhuman echoes
friendlier than time.  Unharmed sectors
open up to the dark of cool night.
to be lit with balls of water.
Courses flow with broken partners
sand is crystallizing eyes that nudge
the rooted side of all flags.
Typecast coral, feces imprinted
on the ocean floor, filtering many threads
of being.  Jumping a curb tin
worked in the belly of avenue,
leaping off one's own eyes
into the stomach of a tape killer, unloving
green making itself known
through the healing trunks
in afternoon.  Mouths open below,
exhaling their little awfulness,
with flame attendant to lame what
is left of empty hungering, with tongues
of ice in the fond neck of
the pond side sitter, duck starer
who carries an omelette
in his recipe cookbook.

Tuesday, June 28, 2016

FIRE WALKER'S CIRCUIT

Torn bark hymns to naked wood
mute stalks to be melted mouths
picnic on flowered blankets,
pine and pomegranate palms
sap's rubber sole, ashy alleys
between treads, pineal thread
to blaspheme death, life draws tight
lovers departed from childhood
with nobody's god lurking.

The ledge is a priceless lip
the brightest eye on earth
overlooks.  Spoken tongues turn
back to the body with images
to be buried on its inside-out.
Flowers from the nose, cavern
vines the eyes through,
thatches of a smashed basket
surrounded by many gun twigs.

Rim of outskirts, torch under the earth.
God's in the kneecaps, water's fence
and depth, all breaking things.
Dice moon and make
a wheel of spokes only.
Watershed polish spit
one hundred thousand garages.
Bring out the prize pyramid
of human face and hair
and let her grin I'm her.
The languishing river has
a canal in my lungs
that is a secret smile's
disease-dodging seed
of life.
Galaxy's mind-bomb of many bodies,
unkept torch of ages in the belly-stem,
havoc's forest of acid-tipped brambles,
oak's lesson of firmness brought home
with the blood of a goose vibrating
yearly rings of reminder
as stumps crunch stories to the sky
and the high and perfumed
flowering are let low in the graph
of eyes, winking each from its square
in hazel pattern of hours.

Cube invaded by a cat's head
windows triangulated on the pyramid's owl
mountain framework'd to kiss the vulva springs
dining table flown from its arabesque'd quilt
lattice of vegetable arms
bringing uppercut to grey phantoms
and bantam claws run
for a slice of blood, a peck's taste
of what the sky wasted on
unkind men, and sulking women
folk.

Monday, June 27, 2016

FRAGMENT.

The liquor puts itself away;
smoke dissipates, light uncovers
a wrath in the fourth quarter;
speech is deceptive, tone wavers,
light answers with brothel;
speech answers, is mania of
death denied by the shovel-minded.
Lilac path cuts open the workday
lilac path opens the night
hills tidal in smashed eyes
turn over the world I carried
with me all my life it was a cage
I wounded it without effort
the long mistake has a river bed
and to take it out...

Rings of smoke cross the barrier.
Long mirrors eat out of the twilight.
The purpose of the water is vanquished.
Root beds and blankets of red steam
carry the living.  Nicked air
flows past the sermon of the dove.

The funkadelic dock shivers
fractured out of the earth.
Cheese-anchored flotilla turns
into a boat, a home for hats,
a trapped roman numeral
fishing with his dick.
The savage god does not exist.
Devils go after his twilight in samey fashion.
Inner man is tension brought into sun being and balanced.
Brought to the hearth, he hungers for nothing.
He lets the hunger of the womb become him.
Warrior of rolled leaves
voyages over the maples
ice cream on the eyeball earth
furthered by laughter on the rapids
puckered anuses of hot light on the high wall
overlooking a belly of cinders
that has been turned and turned
feverish hands to comb long caves
mutant limb liquid the whole
track of solar systems across the mud
of a deep fern'd forest path
twice forked omelette of sunrise
lost in footstep water, bend erupting
in blossom at its greatest stress, combed bank
unscrewed of melted nails worming
back to life across a hollow sundial
shadow tracing the railroad nerve
its slipstream of butchered inhabitants.

Thursday, June 23, 2016

Prickly outposts of the earth and moon
look lonely.  Vegetable sky has
ripped her belly on a fence-top.  Hours
die toward the spigot at the residence's
edge where masks fly in a long chain
over a ditch in the earth
a kite's eye, noodling through the air
toward the mounds of red snakes,
mummy's emptiness, haggard rollers
of long sacred scripts in
constantly birthing hallways wet
elaborate re-entrances, stones
in the eyes of the living, a link
with headbanging daisies
in the eliminated breeze
an unthought kiss that clears
it all.  Pens the curved underside
of the favorite tree's fallen jacket,
fondling what scrapes the skin to red,
hang-glider who left an absence
behind a gone world's desk,
untaught in shattering
on the longest wing of throttled laughter
chained by the thorn bush in the crook
of blood punched through by lingering numbers,
devil-bred routines, pantomimes of the dead
as we look at our fathers falling
through the cracks of their own
broken history, and let them
as we must, their ease gone
from our creases to ease the dawn.

Tuesday, June 21, 2016

Out on the ropes of fuming sunlight
weapons hang from the beauty rising
bulbed open at the eye-hatch
insatiable vision shrinking the void
through which fools escape leering like holes
published nosehairs and the flushed past
rubik's around the core of our squared souls
gleaming in the puzzle of categorized dimensions, and dying in those dimensions
ornamented with terrorized gardens
burnt in the failed protection of self
barren and broken to look upon fusillade
purple hazing of day's close the sky-comb rainbow,
filling up the plugs of pasted-together beings
with overpowering acceptance of vagina rule
dance floor splitting to reveal a swimming pool on TV.

Monday, June 20, 2016

My torpedo body on earth
devil existence redeemed
by harmonizing with all the elements of man
on the shell of the cosmos
for an ephemeral audience
aghast at the authority of murder
and the backwardness of innocence
smashing the floors of civilization with a head-butt
failing at it and loving it
lit up by the barrage of oblivion
with the embracing fire that lives
possessed and crackling in the honor of madness
blood-sweet cost of inspiration
worshipped unto the hearth of beyond this
where motherfuckers just swim in the air
where there is great peace and calm over the damned land.