Tape recorded bathroom
snarling in the wreckage
coils and crackling snares
the remnant of a passage
in metered silk

drooling from the gun of oil
dripping from a sun of plenty
a torn shelf
slipping from teeth of dawn
green leaf licking the barrel
grey feathers of fictional blood
tongues dipping that have gone to rest

and an ectoplasmic missile
soaring through a broken web
to be remembered steel.

A high plain
topped with a boiling table
bones pouting reams of flesh
milk trickling brick seams

bramble of horned clouds
coming over the paved hill
with lights on stalks
and an engine clover.

Whittled down ruin of splintered eyes
staring out of a kaleidoscopic egg
climate's tug of zeroes and crossed snails
twitching numbers and clenched rice
soothing vagrant tools.

I think of fetid years, days
when I only wandered.
See the curtain come up
and drag against the chrome.

Daylight battered through a dirty rug
to find me bleeding.
Suds dripping from the bridge
that led me there.

Twilight tongues to ring
rippling puddles
a surgical lift on wheels
trees getting frantic
snake's ribbons
in a shut down ditch.

Reverberating colors
that all follow her falling sash
of many faces, many asses
as the trunks follow the pattern
of the aching leaves
and the dim turn vaults and swallows
hog tight machinery sticking and slipping
peacock man in a pyramid of pillows
drinking foot wash soot
from bricks and shuttered echoes
cardboard gathering lunar truth
and a knife print's house of dust
one corner seam
clear eyes from the risen mud.

Up to a cloudy anvil I will go
eyes drinking through the windows
of sealed machinery
one last lasso antenna
circling around a sword handle
cracked walkway
to the sagging house corner

blonde landscape for a dumpster's lid
neon's hamster cage gasoline coffee
strings humming for the split cheeks
over chrome roller blades
glass doors glued to turning books
lips filled and gulping green oil
on a flowered rug.

Light raging for the high levels
and flashing behind corners
wrapped corpse where the bench sat
outside the ticking market
mouth pressed within closing wings
button's map to a crushed can
smoke faint where the river coils
dark's rising bread.

The first rush of dandelions
has already passed.
White heads trembling
in seeded green
coal marks on concrete blocks
vines rattling the chain link.

Birds caress inky feathers
long branches release the air
rafts and sheen of mercury
dragging a leafy anchor.

Rope over fog drenched canyons
vibrating train fed tubes
heart ticking in a glass apartment
the red breast of a robin
releasing liquid fleas.

A pricked egg
dripping with highways

possessed by my desire
I take the veil

it covers a mechanical spider
with keys and tablet necklaces

guts of tripe and wires
settling dust of gold

the empty hallways puffing steam
the world a zombie congregation

sidewalks peppered by a ripping dream
a soaring carriage

I am watching the grass solidify
in diamond heat
and the yolk stiffen
the sky's walls.

The speaking towers
vines around their crutch feet
and billowing moss
on the grave site.

Daisies in an open hallway
dragging dusty air
the golden trails of bitter stalks
and glinting shadows
leaks of a fettered dome.

Dirt bag epiphanies
curling up in the roots
a fence of bone and skin
a charcoal sneer

bubbles of entropic pearl
flying from a black tongue
lungs and their yearning
a patched blimp
riding over the graveyard
with a laughing light

the lip of a carved seat
dripping sweat
for the reigning corpse
and blinking orifice
an airplane hangar's
busted river of grain.

Melted onto a screen
furs pushing faces
frustrated bones
blurry tower of babel
a searchlight on dripping steps
clocks tapping ice
sun cloaking the bed sheets
blood swarming boundaries
like a bad rug
cornfields ringed
with dancing rocks
fissures networking in slate
settled moonstruck bars.

My gifts are killing me.
I swallow air like water
and choke.  Orchids come up
from the earth rattled trunk.
A glass turning. 
A bronze reflection's
departure.

Feathers parting for snapping fingers
the heart's breast clouded
a speckled forehead
dragging over stone.

Canvas of the oxygen gun
running latex threads.

The body has a whirlwind grey wall
a switch touched by the dying dancer
bricks perfuming a tunnel of lights
springs raging that had no core
a tongue of gas
split rails heading for the tin foil night
a blue void turning stars to dark
wood's color of planting soil
a spark of lungs
going up the bucket's sides
to mezzanine skunk
with a fortress smile.

Golden skull of dreams
through smoke filled semesters
the lines on far tar
glinting charismatically

where the bike rolled over a fern
and steam rose into a pink horizon
my helmet wobbled
like a dying beetle
knocked over by a low wind

dock's kite trailing saliva ropes
hooks resonant upon the scales
of flying fish
nude sculpted from a cloud blimp
blade's cleft of wet cement
eye sockets creaming
for the helicopter soul.

Armchair on an ice floe
a heap of painted claws
speaking to torn webs
alive on the lashed air
teeth popping cords.

Mercury in long formations
a shoreline shifted to chemical dark
slit harmony of squeaking poles
nosing agricultural rapture.

Trees leaning from roots to great height
a mask of galactic waves
breaking over maps and pipe houses
faces in shined wood
faint putting on sugary flesh
the cornerstone breaking laws.

I am that I am,
priest and pervert,
sketcher of
raw dreams in silicon,

all that the rug rolls over,
the planet's dust,

all ice of inescapable man
lashing at a vapor dome

splitting oaken ears
tagging a worse crater

that runs with invisibility

first hologram of tiger style
wetting seats and bleachers.

On this Monday morning
I think of scarred souls in hell
who had something monumental to give,

color coded people who fled
through a magnetism that fed them light,

waves that passed in error
never to return,
the blood that drips
and will not be regenerated,

trees that speak to my sitting soul,
straw yards that come up to my climbing
and ignite in green,

the singing flag
and scattered emblems
bristling fresh

fiber to be fondled
and stone to cut
stone.

Grass body in the attic
steam rolled to the soiled wood
grid waxed and lashed
to the bright actor
capsules clawing the tongue
with molecular tools

a stopped wave to crawl
boot's tread of icy mouths
and wood chip pelted veiny clothes
cork hands tapping at a trunk lid
seared flesh for the dancing flannel

slapped bone of blood's contention
aiming at the sun struck moon
a cloud arrow
seething over pines
flour beaches and lichen lit poles
grimy gems of cool.

The birds are waking up
in an old way.
I swirl paint into my blood
and listen with open halves
quaking to a full moon.

An eye in the flesh
begs for cream and fresh
underground light
spazzing its virtue
into realms of expanded space
where the dance in fragments
forms a radiating sphere
and spins in waiting.

Web of fire tugging a long note
a grin on a stick
snakes luminous through
tumbling cash
daylight's whisker
on a dry glass
lake's ring of trembling mouths
and marble feathers
past flickering linen
to the velvet waves.

From all over the earth
I can hear the footsteps of hatred
gnawing their way
into my third of reptilian brain

I beg my spirit up
to a clouded plain,
but the violin is not there
so I have to descend for a sword.

Moss and leaf spread on the blue
turf living and its yellow edge
bridged with ruby fire.

Warped from birth,
a rotten colossus,
born to be alien turf
of excreted words,
a temple of pickled filth,
the dirty salt selector.

Armed with a vacuum hose
of cracked eyes and steaming bones,
scanning the trodden fibers.

Windows gleaming past the EXIT signs
a tongue stitched across broken doors
clouds encircling frantic behavior
the coughing of a glass sun
above sentient bricks.

Blade ricocheting through
a tube of echoes
scratching channeled shade
wings landed on the wet target
mouth spouting tickets to a rail
that whips electric pools

concrete umbilical.

A continent of moss
across her shingled roof
I kneeled under

watching the light
through a box cluttered window
break into separate molecules

tousled fields of the loon
lifting one grey foot

moon marked desolate throne
alone among the fumbled glasses
of fallen dancers

watching the electric line
elude the horizon
coming in rounded reflections
this ink vein swallowed
scrap's returned cocoon
a pregnant throat's bristle
dark between painted roads
pushing peacock tongues.

I almost fell in love with man's God
almost forgot what it was
like when this was not scripture

so close to that broken seduction

the way he poisons the onlooker

and the stream letting go

better to say it's just a piss
and the shadow won't close

pull the skirts of lacquer
up around the fort
of clustered boards

let the shine glisten
and the islands gather
into one jeweled emblem
to then disperse again.

Torch hands of her running naked
some ghost in a dream
rain spanked parking spaces

nature's indifferent pain
like the ferment of
some paralyzed evil between us

watching her guitar hardened palm
open a gravel pit
and the whole thick blue dark sky
become the neighborhood air

burning her snow nude photograph
flicking my talons free
of the dust we shared as wine.