A green tunnel in the sandy earth

pouring liquified bone

the hail specked lampshade boulevard

swelling toward the sun

dead stars in a series of cages

the flowery handcuffs on a crucified skin slave

breaking toward a lunar spoon

and the hot glaze of an empty table

the ponds and lakes and swamps become

a sky scraping wave

a line maker sleeps in a dusty armchair

behind a mustache screen.

Stinging spiders of electric wire

painted with lips and eyes

a road of cracked glass

containing mid flight butterflies

long wands of satellite agony

on slate roofs dancing

bright hose to the wavering sun

bucking and sputtering

from an underground sea

blinking between lights

dirt antimatter

long steeple's bricks of wax

upon the vinyl sky.

Streamers of shimmering phlegm

from a volcanic sky

the pukes of a flag raped God

raving into consciousness

from stillborn rock

to be free of their wakes and echoes

an arc of fire over torn out eyes

and water split crotches

speaking in their vessels to the earth.

Human limbed giraffes of liquid metal

peering across the aftermath.

When the boils burst

in the cathedral's breast

and the blacksmith nails

are squeezed from wooden foreheads

clouds write a corpse onto the heaving tar

an engine's petals

unfurl a metallic wedding dress

the barbed wire jokes

and cross-thatch fences leer

an airplane hangar mailbox chokes

on gasoline lips

a bedframe's handcuffed bones

will be flashlit and dancing.

Halls of gassy waves

flowing and holding time

as it fidgets backward.

Dancers in the stitches of the hills

that belch with lava.

Screens that twitch like hermit crab shells

lit up by the mouths

of the moving dead.

Paths of milk nudging from the forest

freezing to the tarmac

as spirits rise like reverse rain

and punch the fizzing

apartment clouds.

Lilacs are gone to the dead sky

an ice cap covers my dull skull

the clouds crack with fecal angelic glory

trash pours down my spine

to turn to soil

over a sunlit slab

in a cashed out quarry

a minnow screams.

Tadpoles cling to the scum of life

fire crawls in the depths

bones dance where a channel opens

and the mossy stage continues

for a drama that's been foretold

in the thorns of dreams

that sting this astral flesh

the spirit that cannot escape

rages and rages.

INTESTINAL OLIGARCHY

Crimson frauds

camped out on the tipping point

watching the urine waterfall

splash the remaining corners.

Fecal overhang

where the cave painters loiter

selling their wares to the whip crackers

for the sex of buzzing drones.

Parsons of the skin construct

farting blood into an artificial wind.

Readers of the barstool's proctology

up against a faint sky

in a proudly dying city

worshipping a crucifix of shit.

ECSTATIC KAKISTOCRACY

Welcome to the prison world

that always was.

To the body made

for pornogaphy of obedience

dying in a raucous neon womb.

Be calmed by the electric sneer.

Lie down within the frozen waves.

Abominate yourself before

your distant masters

and abominate yourself again.

Strum your compliant instrument

before the fetid king

yank the whirlpool's lever

for your hologram rebellion

and your orgasm's sterile fate

renting paid disintegration

prison's nest of plastic flowers

an echoless smear.

Walking on breezy wires

where the tarred hills cross

aloft in the aisles of astral skulls

a dance with floating bones

that rig descended alphabets.

Electric light on dried blood

all the howling left behind

turns to an engine's purr.

Baby's breath from ancient clouds

that surface in an effervescent painting.

Limbs on the oiled oars

that push a leafy boat

bright power of stone studded swamps

reflecting galaxies.

The vine of chaos enspiralled

by the vine of order

is a snake and a spear

to the skies of inhabiting lightning

and encasing thunder

the wet walls of thinking time.

Emotions of thick wood

the synchronized forest

a loose throng of cicadas

building a graph in the air.

Pots of rain and mushroom breath

tree houses oozing metal teeth

and panty liner briars.

A rollercoaster of piano keys

and pinball paddles

batting blood cells

into neon slave centers

where the falsified rewards

in empty numerals are exchanged.

Doors that dislodge blinking jewels

and slam on encroaching ice.

Ribbons that flutter over miles

and drip with ignored warnings.

The bright machinery of our sun

becoming a revelatory rectum

where astral tires roll

and shielded figures laugh

the strutting of sealed chapters

and abandoned screens.

Sun spattered bloody bones

flowing through the lowest seam

in a canyon of toxic dust.

Eyes popping from an Easter basket

of massacred cells.

Nudged along the painted waterfall

by God's sarcastic forefinger.

Flags flapping in sewer pipe halls.

One man's belly a petulant ocean

another just a vacant spoon.

The mirror bent in a cobweb corner

reflecting empty coils.

CICADA SONG

The song of the cicadas

grinds the air into silver grains

carves a vast grey hole in space

levitates the houses markets

and silos on a grid of golden rods

buried bones find granite faces

hills climb curving through the same womb

swamps cluster at the bronze edges

and the dark water shines with the blood

of many suns and moons that pass

above the open field's green envelope

between roaring trees.

CRIMSON POINT FLOWERING PLUM

Crimson point flowering plums

radiate the bone screen

backdrop of blood soaked yards

veins buckling from chain link dogs

stone flung in the woods

to frighten plastic demons

moon coming on mountainous gear

of a thousand purple mouths.

Where the jeep flattens mushrooms

and brassieres dangle

from long reaching trees

guns of moss and butterfly fangs

descend upon a cross

of open roads.

The sky drips on Lookout Mountain

and the snaking roads shine

while the holes in the rocks

gulp light from the lightning.

Screens dance in the reflectors

on the robot body

where the spirit is lost in wire

and vast doors close

on the skeleton's mind.

Drawers trapped

in a glaze of glue

flash jeweled handles

the fossil has a new name

in its glass cabinet

with the signature changed.

In the valley of an uncursed fig

where hillsides turn in peace

on a volcanic spit,

cosmic hands are chickens

and garden tracks fulminate

pod seeds, celestial streamers

specked with gas orbs

trail a milky churning.

From a park bench eyelash

crashing lightly

on a fallen giant's forehead

snails erupt in gold.

Loblolly pines, hedge apples

and crawling vines

block towers of painted slots

long limbs with mossy ivy,

rot's resurrection ferns

the blooming tanks and stones

of a fallen field.

Clouds of the blue void

where vapor can't reach the stars

air thick with whirring cicadas

the swamp's wine mineral stained

flowing under concrete gloves

and velvet bricked bridges.

Green fire crawls the grids

that veil with rust

electric alphabets

signposts impale complacent skulls

cross vertebrae within compliant torsos

the web injecting neon veins

a bulbous monocle eclipses teeth and tongue

cloaks burning nostrils

with a coiled vine

and crosses grinning billboards

in a lunar tide.