Ice that curves

around the pulsing blood

of bodies forming,

clouds that reach

with sudden hands

into the glimmer

of empty lots,

lightning raging in circles

dropping hoops

and wilted flowers

on wounded walkways,

jagged steps

on crumbling ledges

all smoothed by a windy sash

and a scythe for clusters

bursting out of night

that have rainy faces,

bone paperweights and doorstops

collecting in the mansion of the dead.

Torn to ribbons that

articulate the storm,

tongues thrashing

in colorfully threaded air,

waterfalls in mirrors

that glide on silent wheels,

reflections living ten alternate lives

spiders dancing

driven mad by magnets,

the heart as an ancient tool.

Mysteries of undreamed worlds

emerging from the paths

leading into the last vast forest.

Lips of ebony and vine

speaking from the walls

that melt at dawn.

Patios crowded

with flashing rattled eyes

lonely memories of crowded spaces.

Leaves in tumult

blown from roots and branches,

each singer swooning

in the high bells

of different chords,

the way of the keys

extended past sense

and far past

meek infinity.

Bring me out on long liquid ropes

levitating over the nearest river,

shade of trees where we left a couch,

springs reverberant with rust

ticking down in a delicious rhythm,

moss cloaking the mugs that we dip

in the cleft of the rock,

sun sliding on the mercury

of immortal loves intertwined

on the raking current

the rain on ancient towers

pooling in rings and making

pigeons into doves.

Orchids in transparent beds of slime

rectangles of trapped sky

dripping with bronze lightning

runways of discarded wings

splashed with eggs

and lost to astral envelopes

ripped silver masks and wires

adorning a bulbous highway

velvet fumes of our last escape.

Abrim with sabotaged thoughts

I arrive on your doorstep as a hunger

spilling lilacs from my tongue

like slippery letters,

you a tablet of sky on fire

you are the bright layers of rock

brought out by the grind's polish

of many moons

flowing over the cloaked bodies

of many grand pianos

black daffodil of the finely carved

and silent graveyard

where I go to collect the hair

of my half-gone spirit and be wet

with dawn-hewn rivers

in the curtain of days

that ripple over melted sands

my soul in the hands

of your hands.

Orbs descend

with glowing

refurbished symbols

tentacles of light

that were left here

from the last

galactic meltdown.

You and I are

departed from all past lives

to live the fountain of the new

on leaking foundations.

Skeins of alphabetic mineral

made it our way,

were laid in healing webs

on sonic territory

and caught in flasks

that reflect languor.

Lids batting at the light

of a trashed moon,

yellow paths

on lichen-covered highways,

mushroom cliffs and shrouded pools,

tapestries of bright unbidden worlds

unfurling astral flags

that trick the surge of day

I am found in the far corners

of bathroom mirrors in unknown corridors

a shriek of besieged desire

escaping from the maps

webbed by ashen cathedrals

and gathering rocks for a running leap

over garden walls

my doppelgangers go down in thorns

while I play in the chartless clouds

between hypnotized towns

and the drowning in city wells

beauty's dew on my machine of painted leaves

and her seat of instrumental reeds

with eggs that stare like seeds

the hay made by decayed

undulating hours.

MEETING ON A MELTED DESERT

The spheres of unholy light

hold life aloft.

Limbs sinuous as snakes

hold it together.

Fences ablaze with electric shame

bones shaping snapshots

of the infinite liquid music

zones of moderate perfected cruelty

where it's wise to remain foolish.

Ice pools like letters on vacant paths.

The insignia of gravity's lust

imprinted on the dancers and the soil.

Networks of birch branches bound by steel

a horse of eyeless fire with a sleeping rider

hips as the twine of sunrise

murdering my silence and my fear of death.

Shrines of warped wood

kinks carved in cooperation

slender stories that rend the sky

the lightning that binds

and breaks the husk of time

frail opposites entwined

with the strength of water,

united in anarchic rhyme.

THE GOLDEN GOAT DISSOLVED

I eat my way through trash walls

and spit out my cousin silver,

perilously bright I am gobbled by

the dragon of every culture

a tea room in the interlinked

stomachs of the dead.

Wombs construct themselves

in chains of light coming out of me,

the lace geometry of my inverted forehead

is patterned on the involvement of birds

with the cosmosphere before my arms are weary

and she comes with a scythe of chrome.

Narratives of ice perched on crumbling salt

the floors she scratches with a sideways phase shift

folds and grounds all surrounding falls

shores breaking into heaven's halls

sights forbidden from the earth that calls.

SAMELIA BOUND

Diamond studded dancefloors

balanced on a web of skulls

the soft wind reverberating

between our stools on sticks of brass,

the turning eyes that watch

a congealed flame,

our messages are played

on the dim vibrating void

prolapsed between light's echoes

crescents darting in and out

from tear struck sight

the outstretched arms of silver

from a stark black pond

pooling bloodlike in an airport runway

and the letters of a hot tub's tiled walls

body of music floating on racks

and waves of reel-bound steam

earth's wide planks of bone soil

tide of multiplying wakes

where her mouth takes in the drowned

and symbols are the spirit's tools

snake's vision is hers to use

and the apple tree's trunk of wombs.

Gemstones staring through the wall of fate,

caves poured full with orgiastic spirits,

tongues of heart licking

the pieces of the walls that have fallen,

dark swath of space enveloping stars,

halls reaching beyond the reach

of all auditoriums, lights measuring

stalls of caged lightning

with a brighter blaze.

Springs pounding beneath the moss certitude,

twine lashing to their full alphabet of spines

combined.

Hills cut by the worm of dusk

rays that scythe flourishing

from the hot gold of some infinite bird

piercing orbs encamped in tendrils

bodiless comfort of deep space.

Eyes that swallow pouring mud

bone bridges of a dusty planet

cellos of stone

bowed by entombed

greatness of soul that fucks time.

Girders enwrapped in lilac

where bruised hands take lunch

glass reflecting oils of reproduction

cubbyhole kitchens blinking

like stunned searchlights

naked whispers that exist alone.

The tongue distilled of place

is also an astral highway

bright vaginal leaves bespeak

the names of the American rose.

Hills unfold through perilous oils

anomalies from the fumigated hallways

and the burning exit

him with his beams of dirty light

and her with the cut of her jeweled cavern

lichen covered twigs

and a mound of magnolia cones

coalescing in the glassy twilight,

harpooned on the orbit

of a foreign sun.

Ankhs of mud on pavement

sanctuary key to some other land

you and I trapped in cobweb labyrinths

of this reprinted and talkingly

embalmed world,

where the rut has salvaged

electricities for you to hurl.

I am of many minds.

I am a restaurant of the dead.

Feel me from a distance, hoard me

in the memories that haven't happened.

Trace on me enhancement unforetold.

Let the colors train a swift array of bones.

Let the trees of blue breath disrupt a pale sky

without a ripple or a sound.

In the place of ambiguity

plateaus swept clean as fresh glass

sit across from me.

Give us time to study each other

in the eddies that pass us by.

I am afraid of losing myself to fantasies

of enchantment,

I am afraid of rank possession

and the leech inside.

Bleed my milk, witch,

and ink the reed inside

the temple's walls.

Teach me my master side

as a variable dragon, show me the coals

arranged as touchless knives.