Monday, April 29, 2024

Lines across the moon
sweet vines feed drumming hands
steam ropes encircle gardens
where the violent seeds explode
and are accepted by the cries of a guitar
to be written on shrines and altars
tattooed on bitten flanks and throats
encoded in the wounds of planets
encrypted in the scars of every star.

Web's fragile twine
big bang of infertile highways
love's ringing blade
that conquers all our days
and is the haze of an echo
dying painter's gasps
that do all they can.

Sunday, April 28, 2024

Once in a dream of wider skies
I knew hills of needles
long dry from trees that were gone
and cones without seeds that crackled
with vibration of the last faint music

in the shade of a crooked concrete tower
escaped from the series of seismic ripples
my love and her electric memories
undressing on the sands above buried sidewalks
told me to rewind the lost tape and laughed

let's fly above the string where we sang
above the land of unprinted wars
where there is no flying
let's ride the burn of one
more fast eroding pattern
come drink the mist as if it was mosaic
unblast the desolate art of desolate hands.

Saturday, April 27, 2024

NO AVATAR

These things are in my presage, and myself
Am part of them and know not; but in dreams
The gods are heavy on me, and all the fates
Shed fire across my eyelids mixed with night,
And burn me blind...

                                   -- Swinburne

Just as once I pecked at my
Promethean liver
and now I leave it alone
some day I will stop using these teeth
to scar my lips of sage
and sharpen them to bite the cord of time
just as I am the hermaphrodite
who remains in spirit and refuses
to manifest in flesh
so the saints of death make eternal war
on the demons of life

just as my father's name was Michael
and mine is Lucifer
Satan is getting tired of
the philistine archangel's knee on his neck
so I will rise bearded like bees on honey
to uppercut the clean shaven angel
toward his artificial heaven
and forged from fire rise from hell again

just as witches don't control the weather
and the pious pray
their prayers of impotent frustration
so I come like incense with the ax
that is my singing friend
in a cone of upside down light
I watch butterflies with plastic eyes
I rewire the hot bronze mystery
and collage around the core
of the symbols that are never at rest

I am the ass ridden by many messiahs
some think me mute but I am only eating
just as I stopped smoking
and now I rest in a photograph
of frozen fire
just as you got all the names wrong
I trick fate in many masks
to be born naked in distilled frenzy
drumming placenta and thriving in triplicate zen.

Wednesday, April 24, 2024

The flesh of dancing bones
distinguished by fire
finds a colorful cranny to die in
places organs that sing
on a counter-harmonic altar
and with a grin torn into the heart
falls down like a dead sex organ
into the infertile abyss.

Mountains cracked by steam
and reeking lava
fleeced of trees
and the flight of the living
invite the attachment
of Martian forests
amphibian eyes of cruel
elongated giants
grafted serpents
and the baby shit
of dying angels
wax teeth of encrusted books.

If one should turn with gentle eyes
to sweetly perceive the extent
of the homogenous terror
that one will be wasted away
not by a bomb or a crucifix
not by a series of guns
or a tightening noose
but by the limpness
of a sleeping herd.

To harden against it is to break
to surrender is to be suffocated
the way to ascension is blocked
by divine stupidity
this is the wrong world
and you are the wrong rebel
might as well eat tar in flake form
for breakfast cereal
might as well drink reptilian milk
for gasoline.

Monday, April 22, 2024

Orchids forcing through the eyes
the thrill of diabolical water
poison roots in poison soil
branches of elongated flesh
hissing with toothy hysteria
barren lands stricken
with diseased blood.

Slashed costumes of rancid cloth
birthing latex replicas
chains of rubber dolls bathed
in radiant liquid shit
repeating robot harmonies
in obedient recital
the rust of metal wings
peppering a planetary
volcanic throat.

Plastic idols melting into rings
of toxic flowers
ponds of mechanical piss
eating antique bones.

Sunday, April 21, 2024

Cracked sky proclaims electricity
fronds gush from split stems
green sap of violent life
paths of radiant lava
curling malignant steam.

Figures pushed through mud
animated bronze and marble
peacock dresses flouncing
from the frolic of manic nymphs
on a dwarf god's limbs
the panic of dark blood in silver water
an altar of seductive steel.

Deep knotted brains of ice
drowning in baths of mercury
red ferns atremble
in vines like a raging river
sinews dancing for a death drunk moon.

Friday, April 19, 2024

Delirious days
fade into the kaleidoscopic spectrum
drums that waft like leaves
bikini snapping on beer fed blankets
wet stone blinking in a cloud brushed sun.

I lean back on a bench
to watch my ghost turn corners
the machine of a cruel afternoon
conveyor belt souls.

Light comes from broken places
to be corrupted
the stained cloth and the shadow
to carve out our melee
the blades of these fragments are enough
and as beauty comes forth from death
so my hours bloom.

Wednesday, April 17, 2024

My days are ghostly bulbs that float
through the pulsings of
thick veiled afternoons
in the tide of stones
I'm a turning utensil
in dreams of dripping light
I fly above painted roads
watching tunnels dug up
turn slow machine somersaults
men's bodies tied to churning clocks
and women folding chloroform cloths.

In the cracks between ransacked calendars,
in the pools left behind by receding darkness,
I trim hedges that hold fortress doors,
I pile up hordes of spirit-tongued vitamins,
I watch the fan blades articulate
unceasing circles, in tubs of zinc tubes
I rinse the blood of brakes
on dawn's awareness,
I swing the chains with vacant hooks
for all the puppets who are gone.

Tuesday, April 16, 2024

Branded by the brightest blades
goblet brain dripping with
nuclear paint on the patios
of smoke-linked cafes,
the lipstick-smeared kisses
on cracked brick porches,
high ladders with Buddhist banners
trailing off into the talk
of an abandoned night.

Vines crawling concrete canyons,
birds clacking in the iron ribs
of a snaking overpass
footsteps of the lonely
on an egg-stained cemetery ridge.

Monday, April 15, 2024

Trembling walls of painted grates
wherein the gnashing teeth make song
strings of fire and dripping tongues
lashing at the cloud-soaked sermons of grease
from bearded waifs with poor faces
eyes of solid red in turmoil's flesh
the flying bones and brain
of the distinctly human.

Spiral staircases into empty air
glint like frozen milk
and separate the thunder
of a great thaw
bright kisses of burning lips
upon marbled brows,
thin waves of the dying voices
that tried a caught raindrop
of spiritually illegal color,
faint droppings on the page that flipped
for the pulse of a glowing cellar
to grow throne shroom cathedrals
with vortexes spiced and leaded
the upthrust of breathing stones.

Sunday, April 14, 2024

Dog face scowling
a grizzled walker
drops envelopes of burning
heavenly light
to anoint the winding tar

a denim dancer
in a globe of floating wheels
gears grinding that kiss the lips
of faded immortals
offshoots eating gravel
and spitting out pearls

guardrails sparking with satanic beauty
the flick of a frenzied painter's brush
the order of fractal chaos

bronze wings capturing the eye
a tail of poisonous mercy
head sown back on
fresh from the chopping block
bright tongues from the injured neck
developing backup singers
and hot electric singing axes
a tin of baked saliva
encrusted in an ancient mouth.

Saturday, April 13, 2024

CHICO MALO

Forelock of a snake
guarding pineal prescience,
slabs of scriptural weight
farting ink through bright
fractured tectonic plates,
head covered with the blood
of hovering angels,
the support of terrible
reptilian columns
roaring underneath
his rattled bones.

Gas tank of the infinite
cut off and burning by a thread,
these helmets of misguided mercy
falling off like wool.

He licks the bridge with a long
recording tongue
and the glue of spit becomes
veined radiant insignia.

Friday, April 12, 2024

Satan represents courage,
cunning and genius.
Satan represents humanity,
the fountainhead of humanism.
Satan stands for revolution
against tyranny, against
meek mediocrity.
Satan stands for the sexy flame
set against the void.

His downside
is the downside of everything
imploding into raw space
like an ecstatic dancer.
His voice is the voice of Bob Dylan,
cawing into eternity.
His face is the face of Arthur Rimbaud,
James Baldwin, Garcia Lorca.
His face is the face of Abraham Lincoln
glinting from a fresh penny.
He wrote the Constitution
in the name of a distant God.

In the egg of an inspired twilight,
in all the amphibian details
of a looming fog.

Thursday, April 11, 2024

Fur of light on heavy clouds
the power of the wind in harness
pushing me higher.

Poles linked by talking wires
running spirits from valley to valley
an alphabet of signs in water
sand in the fingerprints
glinting from contact
with so many lands.

Drums in radiant circles
heat that eats the rain
before it hits the ground
two nude encircled shadows.

Lanes of the never before
explored
opening many
vacant heavens and howling hells.

Wednesday, April 10, 2024

Deep sunrises yet to come
don't hover in the deep forest

Earth comes to them in space
by fertile movement

turning frost to disappearing tendrils
in the orbit that knows no vacancy

bright galaxies like rolling water
the paint of long dead stars.

Monday, April 08, 2024

In the shade of the eclipse
I gather my fallen arrows
and dip them in a river
of melted gold.

Cracks in the sleeve
of earthly daylight
pouring through
ancient space.

I drop my fork and spoon
my bones of ink
this body of vagrant water
ten tons of concrete runways
and the cloak of sweet grass
I wore while the days grew frantic

cells of time
departing webs of vibrant roads
through a rain of bright wet smoke
dust walker's
magnetic glasses.

Beads of blood
on fans of ruddy quills
attach to hairs of death
and then fly off
like unstable bullets.

Here in the orbit's
gray scorched basin
scrape me out with tongues
send me around
the acres of Saturn's rings
improbably take me home.

Sunday, April 07, 2024

Stone wheels of the way that goes,
trees moaning on a crust of earth,

islands floating in hot blue air,
cream-puff islands with neon signs,

strings of light leading
to the heart of the ancient forest,

cloth stained from an interior world
drying in the ice of dawn.

Plastic cabins overturned
with an array of ribbons
coursing through violet roots.

Keys dangling from a torn branch
hinge of a half open door
from dusk to hurt yearning dusk.

Saturday, April 06, 2024

Shelves of sky
with sherbert color
to be wasted upon,
glass flashing false memories
to a drainpipe altar,
lines of suggestive coal
tracing goddess outlines
on the straw mat of a primitive
with books in a wooden tower
and music in plastic flasks.

If the corpse of my father
could speak with a true tongue,
if the purple waves
of a schizoid December
could accumulate backwards
into dappled fall
and stone crown the ivory roots
of tall black flowers
to an everlasting pall
of womb song blue

each torch's comma flouncing
in a geometric void
each alloy of the night
solar flares that attach
to the radio suture
stitching tombs together
with a future tone for time alone
in ancient cherry

concrete claws would abound
in gilt framed mirrors
moon lit clamor of water
wound like spools of taffy
together on a branch
of suspended metallic rain.

Friday, April 05, 2024

Planks I walked to portals
radiant with hot
fringes of other worlds,
the eyes in these old feet
dazzled, the water
of these old eyes
twinkling with
infant hands.

Shining with
hard beaten grain,
stretching to the last rebirth
and bending back
to sun on dented homes
cool beds of fresh
kaleidoscopic lettuce.

Tuesday, April 02, 2024

I was born to be a demon,
I am always the bad one.
Lamps flicker in the lairs
that I pass as my shadow
interrupts the thought patterns
of the inhabitants.

What is this antiseptic cave
where I was born?  The ground
is an ooze from some
concrete underground,
the trees and their leaves of paper
jitter vividly like agitated souls.

Gold coils in my eyes, liquid gold
from the mouth of the deceiver.
God has given me a great immune system
to curse my enemies with,
I commence with my leathery spear
and my knives of stars.