Pink sock of body on the mop stick
dome sky raining paths
the mouths of inside-out containers
door hinges spark dust
the puke of ancient suds
rubbed from a river stone
shadow's skeleton of broken fences
a curving mouth that licks
the salt of graves,
blade-tip sniffing
a flower from the ribs.

Storms contained in glass porches
scraping fiber optic nodules
with inverted teeth.
Scrub pad hands setting up
colored slats
in collapsing hallways.
Sinks of charcoal gloves
sending sundown to the moon.
Heaps of blown material
constructing faces
from the powder of reptilian skin.

Bird twitch-walks
blood feathers and bright
reef-colored beak
stabbing between the grasses
selecting and chirping
with a strut like murder
billows of tuft stalks
around his narrowed nostrils
stems elongated to the point of bending
touching fire pit piles
the fluttering rust
of lightweight fallen buildings
stuck to fingers of rubber bands burnt
flicked at the landing harvest
wings over the eyes
eyes in the wing-pit
needing and heaving
straw heaps of missing bodies
and remembered images
of separation
hops around the outskirts
of the garden fountain
gravity's heart
carrying the blade it
cut him with
the strut's wire

The wetstone gleams
in an eyelid,
the lights of town submerge
to bulge and foil
in the loins of the body,
the sidewalk falls apart
from the cut cranium,
the ground lisps.

A fist covered in damp oats
and blue molasses,
beaming the glass dial
to lunar maximum,
faucets on amplified grey
tall panties against
the pull of the earth
and the men gacking.

Ran roads far up in the steam
leaving dining tables behind
strapped to echoes and rabid ghosts
headboards and lamplight lashed together
with rubber and hooks
creaking on the muffled edge
tongue-first leaning over
thirst dragging neon solitudes that have passed
shine teething on bongo hands
bonds breaking loose with feather fingers
and skidding furniture.

Up in an old room alone with a drum
headband's twig cigarette mustachio'd eyes
afloat on carved wood with a scheming mouth
an ember-polished floor separating suds
to push a chimney whirlpool of graffiti
scales on long braids
the shovel sliding off the iris.

THE CRYING ANTENNA

Scissor arching over mountain plains,
weeping on a tower of stacked pans
and turned-over mop buckets.

Severed arms and legs
spinning in the vacant air,
the high rise of cells on sameness
breaking toward the earth,
hard corners tee-peed
into sacred smoke,
the hot poison of beauty.

Worlds on tap in the twisted
and cut clay forehead,
capped so far from its eyes
exploded poles undulating
in cooled light.
Stabbed in the creases of age
blood running the genetic mirror.

Faucets of pasta and broth
silent wells of water.
Barrels and boxes pouring
out of the rock-torn sky.

Long flat-roofed ovoid tents
with square entrances.
Collapsing units roamed
by fresh souls,
their wedding patter.
Cooler's carousel of wet smiles
grateful for the electric hand.
Banquets of American metals
glass after glass of water and mercury.
Little toads eat the crust of the planet.
The gilded frame of half men
bleeding yellow paint.
Plaster grimaces and fallen-out
follicles scattered on the covered couches.
The paperwork of careful thieves
protoplasm staked to wooden mushrooms
guts in a yarn of air travel.
Passageways of heat-bled light
feeding hills of glory
in the depths of earth's orbiter.
Little towns of children with lobster eyes
crying knives' intent of the equator.
Vinyl spinning on a bloodied hand,
reflected rays tabled and branching aisles.
The literature of the killing camps
clone-printed on butterfly blue.

The long blank woods
rotting and revivifying faces,
my valley with me in the light
whale's back pushing a pond
the boundaries of erasure.

Some higher being in me
strips off t-shirt after t-shirt
to rejoin me here.
The storehouse of masks
ignites insignias
prowls until  morning
and cuts out the lock.

The path is the curvature of a shore
formed by a whirlpool,
the joined threads in convergence
birch maples leering instrumental fruit
fanged smile of a winged spine
tattooed on mango bark's
many seeping faces.

Cloud's eye hole into space
ruddy paths in the pine's gash
water broken over rocks' descent
pond's animal eye remembering rubber and rain;
stained arrowheads from the heel
of one who wandered with a wild look
birch scars and the breath held of tucked wings,
the grass ways of pebbles and hollow skates
blade's roar against the water-drip ceremony,
a thumb-tip studied with lipstick,
the math-dreary tones of the speedometer's needle
melting into tape deck and radio
to a lawless sunburst corner
faded knuckles and brown leaf teeth
the wink of oil leaning.

ANTI-MATTER PROGRAM

These photographs showed the nucleus to be flexing its cylindrical body
the gray of the silt, a shrimping and petroleum city
fine-seeded crops to a flume regenerate
the two valves together, and a single muscle closes
thickly over the prepared, raised soil;
captive killers have been trained through a four-inch vertical pipe
workers put their arms--and even their heads--into the whales'
tooth-filled mouths, pull the animals around by the blowholes,
an ocher star stretch and strain the water-filled feet
the star travels out through the mouth, the tube
coal-black, a rare potato-shaped object marked by hills and
oil-spotted beaches impregnated towelettes--
two bright jets of gas and dust, electronic international banking,
and the transfer of huge reports,
flew in toward the comet's sucker center and took pictures.

AUM KID

I speak of the wood and water
that became a man,
of the sunken valleys
drummed by bright fists
into sails and gunshot posters,
pools of crimson epoxy
that the gardener's fingers
cannot rub off,
vines and hands and depths
murk of eyes that carry diamonds
to a crushing reservoir,
the veins of great empires
going slack and rubbery
for space and escape,

I speak of the man
upside down for his flying feet,
the clusters of rug fiber and grey walls
that are called squares,
the cacti in the mouth
of an infant who can speak,
ten thousand scorched moons
coming with hacked-out windows
in the same sky,

smeared by the cellophane of my breed
I speak of a chair in the wilderness,
a stunned wasp on fire in the palm of my hand,
of the black woman who was crucified
and brought the world to rest,
and a rim of gut-unraveling laughter,
the armrests of a censured noon
blinking daylight to blood,
the curve of my foot's arch a girl's torn body,
her heel on the fork of my brow
giving way to the stab's pluck
of parts for computer

two souls like newts on a dark bandanna
afloat with an ancient array
plank's worm grain
fish sap of new orders
oozing into place.

Skin-sent light
burning elements of my cloak
she ladles at the trough
watching pigs' noses,
snorting talk
long shiny wood devoted to her altar
fake and pressed flowers
the living bulb
resides on my kitchen table
in or out of water
the rooms all sing to her absence
she is so many, she has so many sisters
brows heavy with meaningful scribbles
the baby goddess hand
on a landscape of flattened wheat
torsos buried in milk mud
spouting brass fountain breasts
in the chemical aisle
rice fed on salt and moon panel
clotting transparent skulls
whip handle stuck to the river
and a costume dragging
a lurch of lips,
a birth control chamber
of antique weaponry
glinting canine alphabets
and sinking veins in teeth
a valkyrie scrubbing
zeroes of starchy wires
from a smoked-in porch
dangling glass keys
from her tits of mercy.

Bicycle spoke fangs
nudging gills of bone
pushing heated dials
with frozen hairs
chair leg arms
and cushion spine
door frames of clear running water
teeth in heaps of brine and metal
windows in cut feet
cut mouth and hands
cut muscles of upholstry
the staffs and mops and straw
over polished and melted seams
cold throats of pissed-at eyes
rolling chains
a pulley of broken elbows
storing wheat in paper
pink air in a cupboard of lungs
a cylinder of cotton
leaking elastic cells
and strings of wood crawling.

Bundles of crumpled metal branches
swinging from a sad chin,
stars on the elbows frothing,
a cracked knee, a stabbed heel,
decentered head throbbing
in blood without gravity
beneath the whirlpool skin.

Register of chipped fingers
and antique shirts,
glass bulb of examining eyes
a ribbon over the hillside.
Shelves of painted bread
and packaged icicles.
Napkins of verbiage
done up in a cream puff wrapper.
Spokes that hold the tabled wheel
smoked and greasing a pig's ear.

Minnows exploding across
the silver reinforcements,
a fountain room waffle iron
printing graves on a sheet of salt.

The same as.
Mirrored clouds
an energy of false abandon
all trickling away.
Guardrails for sitting and smoking
couches by the riverside
a good pair of attic headphones
ditches and scissors opening boxes,
pulsation of broken sheaves
in the vale of thorn velvet
brown rabbit dash for the iris
my body a clay foot
the overturning of all things
with a grip.

The backyard's green glove
draping machine teeth silhouettes
splitting vapor and planting scars
his communion of hot liver
tree trunk's horizon
and berry acid.

When the day I prepared for so long
comes in emptiness,
comes with its wide streets quiet
I want my damp solitary grayness,
my unscreened corners
flapping wings to disturb the dusty colors,
the messages of drains hiding it all
deep in the earth.

Let the trapped grain
be under its cloud
trickling varied innards,
flutes in muck and long tables
swept by sheen of mirrored light,
a vision of watery commas
bisecting scripture to fall
into a thousand halves,
the knelt-on pebbles
holding meteoric graveyards
and prismatic holes.

Outside the courtyards and ballrooms
of observed bodies
a rounded cusp,
a shell's cracked edge
flowing with optic follicles.

Walls, gateways, pools, and mineral acids
fresh international ultraviolet journal container
and pendulums, mirror group spirit voodoo antenna,
thousands of grape hyacinth snowdrops. snowcaps, squill,
storage rooms, galleries and many dried blueberries out of an overshoe
a gigantic clothes branch with little mud patties on it.

Inside is a hollow room, high eons ago,
the dense fur, trapping a well-packed pile.

Cloaked in silver against the freezing dozens
in the ice I could see a great sleek body
on his way

The urgency of certain doorways,
certain root-seats under spreading branches,
places marked by stones that drift and wander;
frantic blood of so many nights,
irresistible sheen of broken vessels
laid out in the pale morning
on a tide of shrink-wrap wax paper notes
and finger-holes in bread
carefully filled with honey;
the plate sticks: the teeth of the day
already scrape on concrete
as love awakens hate
tipped claws, a theory of
the first act's beginning.

Eels with tapped-out eyes
coat racks of rabbit fur labyrinths
descending aisles whose foam
I have disrupted in my sleep
all ground floor elevators of silver
bicuspids and gold clasps
helmets lined with blacksmith's nails
tacking temples to the thought of blood
and driven death, the beguiling plants
and eves and plum gripes
he can get for himself in the slab cooker
the tongue kisses of financial levels
widely dispersed in youth
the gas mask
of many muzzled dinners.

Longitudes of wet land
feeding piercing eyes afoot
in a clay head,
leveled at elevator imprints
on the whipped path,
flickering tinfoil and cement.

Lunatic graveyards,
spoiled yeast
and spent sails,
a tent and abandoned car
folded up in the stomach.

Puddles of throat and lung blood
capping mountain water
cabins lodged in the pine ears
that gird his fireplace head
bursting pills of wax
a hot tub's cache of tobacco
and rented alcohol
erupting in speech,
a tongue tattooed grocery list,
tower of cushions bent back
by spontaneous vomit.

Fields deer kicked and shat
spreading vacant water
on rock-stacked inclines,
log roads in termite sand
swerving higher and higher
than the stripped and painted trunks
vaporizing his headdress
and velvet-lined sockets
a lane of metal tables
the cracked claw of
protruding forehead.