Attacks of hooked lightning

and the final answer

from the sap of the wood

that glues my bones

to an engine oil mirror

and its ticking lamp

corrupting leaves

flashing their veins

in a rusting drainpipe

the forehead's tapped sight.

As green tendrils avenge

the healed clearings

pock marks of ancient ooze

and the ash pot pours

a branch lifts a bucket's handle

a celestial smear coils.

Mouth kicked in crossing snowfields

playing in glacial silt and stoneware

gadgets through the frozen waves

and revolving biscuit cutters,

the flowing streams reminiscent of

conveyor-belt toasters along high ridges

mosses and lichens gouged out of

subterranean tectonic plates like raisin seeders

and ravenous mountain air.

Me and the sledgehammer's dance floor

me and the wheel of iridescent cheese

sliding down the pyramid's incline

with an acid powered light

reams of plastic thinking

docks gleaming in finger paint

the laughing dresses of water.

Parked on a rock of painted moss

ship's feelers wobble

the sky that crashes steel

waits in tiny shells

and clotted crucifixes

lips on a candlestick

throats of an engine contest

starting up in enameled dusk.

Cranes of milk upturning

lands of severed teeth

bone eyes and bone heart

traveling over a smashed desert

blades of wind inhabiting

the empty ribs

that ride a rubber road

ragged fire at the wet

of the solemn edge

speaking to the smears

of chalk planets

antique organs and yarn

colored souls.

The diamond of hate

that drives existence

sword of murder trembling with joy

in the impalement

of some grim hyena's

shit-filled heart,

and the death compounded by life

in the country of imprisoned rhetoricians,

sellers of the unreal

who floss their teeth

with the blood of sacrificed fetuses,

purveyors of lacquered dung

generously giving tickets

to the curated end of days.

Slabs of dead weight

rigged to the jawbone,

the fish eggs of cornered places,

a brain in a bag.

Aisles running like paint

between vegetative cubes.

Silos of dancing mercury

to let time go vacant.

Border of the planetary drift

that plants me home.

Grains of the wood that made

my suit of gloss

giving way to lightning

a rising scepter of oil.

Wanting the fire to know

when raking the bones will be over,

bent eyes watching the dumpster's lid

for a tumult of flowers.

Roads bleeding in snow

high hills pushing pine glue

and sun lit thistles,

towers leaning into stone clouds.

Empty peaks gobbling rows of shadows,

rings of orbits cast out

fading into ether,

dripping through maps and graves.

You blue fingered imp,

shrugging with a hidden mirror,

filling a bag with broken letters,

guiding a wounded ram.

Summoning a hurricane of keys

heat to pave a scoured ditch

gathering a circle of eyes

in a chrome fist beating.

Walls that call forth a vagrant shine

some gypsy portal

opening behind the cart

of brushes and wax bags

to be stroked in motion.

I go out to the big sky

through a fractured iris

reverent among the trash piles.

Lingering on a hair

stretched out through space

hitched upon the battered rows of wood

twanging in my fossil brain

times already past

frothing against an attic window.

Veins torched

by bitter victories

a marble slab that catches

the declining sun.

Choirs cheer for the plasma rifle

vomit goes up in holy flowers

steel fangs puncturing

willing flesh.

A board of names

brought out like parchment

from a shining closet.

The dancing muffled

in cotton millennia

teeming against a violet door

mouth to scissors

feathers for howling eyes.

A grain to go on

dark nucleus flashing

the belly of tar behind

those motionless storefronts

that find a pinnacle

under the hooked moon.

Scenery dashed to pieces

by a flying discus

shimmering flakes of china

painted in fondled lava

for the beard of the sun.

Last angle of disintegrating dark

a bead on the web of fractures

popping above the compass

in a charcoal bird bath

headlights of an airborne train

plowing hoops of cloud.

Where am I in the fossil high rise

that lays down on my breath

when the earth shakes?

A hook for my body follows

on an insensate track

in the terrible ceiling.

Offices clap throughout

the dawning and collapsing hallways.

Light goes to the drain's grill

trickling towards the evaporating core.

A porch juts out from

a tall pharaoh's jawbone.

Silent and woodenly nude

clenched lips in a rainstorm.

Clouds meeting the crackling antenna

screen's immaculate conception

of holographic slaves

leaves blowing in the next

millennium.

Staring at the assaulted sky

yielding to unmeasured color

a bird breaks my cord

the edges of orbits in space

converging upon me.

A solemn flurry

leaves tapping at the door

a child's wheel in motion

winding paths that squeeze the ferns

upright.

Doors that yearn with human blood

to be opened.

A courtyard under moss

glassy spires ascending from

wide broken walls

corn row light joining sun and moon

the shadow's reach

through an empty window

silt glowing from pine to pine

each spore from space a dirty mirror

the river's core of acids.

Sky of tangled galactic arms

vast and invisible.

Torn country beneath the leaf

of a turning root

and bitter malignant stars.

Soaping the train

the tracks and cars that cut

transparent gloves

roads that slither under

the network of time

I see a light escaping

for some other world.

Turning corners with its sheets of rain

the snare of lips at magnetic poles

plow blade with a beard of lunar light

tucking in the sod

around a fuming corpse

brain dripping with a fresh order

dew anointed deep

in the high sky scraping offices

my loveshorn tigress of concrete winter

my glue wrapped microwave dove.

They have carved out

a place in my spirit

with their numbers

where we go to fall.

Trunks leaning rip ribbons of tar

every hair of the kingdom

a satellite mirror

plowing through the stratosphere.

Cabin's wax light on the crest

the kiss without gravity

remembered in a torn arm chair.

Steady bones in a trash bag

flesh flexing in a circular machine

the paint peel high horizon

glittering through blades

scraping a path in the air

seated in the levitating copter

steel rinds for eyes

prints of angelic orifice

descending on a deep rubber wall

a howling in the mailbox

clouds clustering an antique moan

souls crashing out of the bread bag

aisles razor thin

droids rendering a synthesis

of proud obedience

to the recognizing lash

lush yield of a treadmill

frolicking blood

its mush container

bronze afterthought belatedly gone.

Past the drape of purple clouds

purposeless drift of time

icons eroding in movement

the sand grains pinching jewels

fire jumping hoops

on the stuck horizon

days that have had enough

falling off the calendar

shoreline's rail of lights

following a gap in the hills

parchments discarded

to an unchained winter

a face in rain

lost to the imprisoned glimmer

a green tunnel

up to the theater's womb.

Eyes full of mercury glinting

from the wall of the dead.

Windows of a freight that howls.

Shadow of a sun that crushed the earth.

Strings of metal buffeting

the shell of a neighborhood.

A doorway that visits

the electric ground.

Here comes the smile of rock and wood.

Here comes the machine of spirit's expulsion

with soul to spare.

Walls along the bones that fell

blooms of broken stone

thorn of the mouth gone quiet

in a screen of times tagged

spreading over dark waters

with a sneer of knives.

Depths carving with their fire

a pig's head in flowers,

a drilling stare

from the rift in conscious rock.

The frill of a sinking assassin

one cell tapped out in fragrant ooze.

Red stones on the curve of a cliff's lip

doubling souls in the seam

between underground mountains

the starfish mouthing neon

from a pyramid's cage

panes of the palace windows

glinting from a green fettered hill.

Cold wings of an unspoken vertebrae.

Staring lung of an open wound.

Pillow's breath in the crook

of the jagged lightning

outlook falling with the open moon.

For your feminine claw

flick over me in a sunbeam,

eat my incorporated substance

from the comb of a crushed city.

Mirror where I bleached my hands.

Wire lurking in the flower

that peaks from a shaded room.

Cave dweller with angel wings

surging through brown earth.

A high platform

with a glowing chair

the prize of the lashing clouds

an electric dawn

descending down a toilet bowl.

Moss upon the sun

pricked soil breaking open

a ring of tongues

doused in novocaine.

Arms toiling through dimensional spray

a tank of stomach lining

overturning a tinfoil street

poles rising from the broken crust

one melted numeral

blooming into myriad fleshpots

a lunar scimitar

carved into the tower of scrolls.

Paths in the wind

pushing steam and berry bushes

lashed words and storm eaten papers

a ship of wood glue crashing into a mirror

one furious pair of eyes

in a grid iron graph.

Fires leaping from the bones that wept

a chair of gems

ripping the cloak of skin

a highway gathering robes of rivers

coiling against the planetary shield

and writing cursive lines.

Clouds that drink blood

an infinite airless floor.