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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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

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

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.

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.

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

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.

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.