Big shades open to the fierce electrified night.
Splashed motels with fresh paint, shivered front yard's hyacinths
with running water, mouths caged in multitudinous bouquets
aimed at the hill's rim near the sky-button.

Hungry doors on our younger footsteps.
Tablecloth dreams in tobacco seas receding.
Late-night lawn chairs on the glass eye kitchen floor
chat going.
Crow's arch of eyes
concentrating through
the blue sky terror.

Diners identified by sounds and steps
that patter into the frequency fade.
Numbness of dudes, exitway of metal,
understanding of the faded numbers
sculpted by charcoal and moss
in the fuming of tree branch's error
hands caught in a noodle nest of pickled vipers

The bird bath key ring toss near the heart
hardening entrance marble mopped
and clean lobby rigged
wormhole to the radio world
in a gem-packed sound.

The rage contained a prophetic passage
old heraldic emblems, turbaned dolls, red lions of maple fried to a golden brown
elegant parquet to colorful plastic living space clusters and arching canes
among white dawn corner and pinocchio stonecutters, the high altar western utility gold
sunshine airship mud into rough rectangle beyond the bright colors of the butterfield
volumes of strong linear perspective on a gossamer fiber optic bundle of light

Bonds that break in the light of day
the smashed works of empire's people.
Formless words underwater
that can't be undone,
the drift of planets
captured in a sneer.

Washpots eating their own clay.
Fenced-in matings
that dream of destiny,
sand whipped from dogs in dim backyards
to a high bright slipstream.

Split roots shivering into a darkened river
limbs spinning on wax.
Tugged fertility dripping
down the chainlink
hollow diamond by diamond.

I wake up smelling like a vinegar factory.
Trespasses in the night have left me solid as a lamb.
Day vacations of robot transparency
repelling my soul to a void.
Mercy's departure from skies
that never knew its meaning.
Skunkflowers blossoming over the highway.
Shelters of rubber and leather that never knew a body.
Burning roads of paper cups filling up the dim atmospheres.
Dusk on the wounds of men.
Dawn coming over the picnic tables
where hands are bloodied on quills.
And a path of sand showing the way
to the gnarled fireflies.

Rational farming and its circular shape and taillights of flowing traffic
waiting for the right moment to fire the artificial feeling in silver and enamel
this buffoon and babbler with wheels, gears, weights, and warm water to collect
a robot camera, a food factory and manipulator arm,
its pale gold, cream and ivory petals blending to a glorious strobe in hedge roses
highland with ample room in which to build not one but two domes
to the city's future prototype history like a great fried cotton egg
with an eye to house the temple of the cruel sensual gods
and the invisible mountain.

Shrubs on melted quartz
faces pinched in squares
singing brain death
with lemon drips
long wood polished toward the sun
smashes gases breaking highways overhead
a rain of gravel in the lovemaking room
moving glass that reflects a planet's death
time plastic bagged and fish-eaten
balconies of tainted bone
draped in burning fur

The construction stained a grain of salt
with the peeling and coring of windfalls
detailed three-dimensional colleagues
revealing every bump and individual nerve burrow
a radio slab, the back of my head resting in an open plastic box
the new rose was set free in conference
two white doves were declared bright and clear
as the name jabs its forked lance in the stratosphere
a scientist-photographer formed within the bolt
cameras extended a strong ass between two burdens
the vestibule of space
and he saw that rest was good

I dream of your star power,
your ready teeth,
how you could dissect them all
and reassemble them,
how you could touch the lamps
while whispering madness,
turning the sucking lights
towards your own face,
gloating in the momentary,
not knowing the abyss,
yet somehow still above it,
flaunting a pterodactyl flower
toward the unwanted
in order to be allowed to eat.

Recounting his tooth-scrubbed days,
leaves in their embers,
boxes of glass that have eyes,
tendons unbroken by moonlight,
sills turned out to the bright rain,
carpets and cases that speak cotton,
his hand is an echo of timelessness,
limbs drunk with the mystery of tar,
defacing his own statue.

Plastic venom eyes,
lemon-colored tongue,
alarmingly cut leather,
limbs fused to a white wall,
body tucked behind Saturn's belt,
terror plowed into a corner,
the lipstick victor, signing her apple,
dowsing her suspects in candy,
batting with one false leg
to strike the other,
ripping the tent's roof
with a vertical shriek,
dashing down infinite aisles
without a cart or a praying pet,
smacking long-handled
silver pans together
with a leer and
without a murmur.

Marketer of all the worlds,
expert tap-tapping on backs,
I melt my reflections,
paste wet ash to the canyon's throat,
mingle with pepper and raspberries,
drowning my passenger side soprano
in a velvet monotone,
planting ball bearings in the wounded earth,
mopping the corridors of power
with unexpected grace,
standing at the continental bridge smoking,
with a feelings of power in my loins,
my wallet and my chicken bucket,
swearing myself to the high moon,
dangling plastic abysses
from my favorite necklace of wheat chaff,
enumerating on olives of sleek many
in different kinds, smacking oil between
lips and fingertips like an enraged panda
shocking the pink and brown planets firmly awake,
puffing herb on a footrest, a moss descent,
a skullshaped rock or a frozen playpen
tear ducts pasted to some woman's footsteps
drowned hunter of mussels
crawling thatches to the rigged stash
of a tail-smacked hut.

Hammering the fecund world
of grey skies grey trees
letting it bleed its fragments to me
cracked firmament retracting hail
torn daylight pursuing its dawn fracture
days in the rain spent world
watching reptilian fungus
on storm wrecked trunks
wafting rotted woodpeckers
long blueberry ditches dark
plank slapped paths led
to a pool of unformed silver,
stunned sentient gold.

Bridges twine over roads
immense height rises up
only so far in the evening
but man's voice travels by satellite through space
composing and howling
compacting and hacking the data
frenzied tearing his poetry apart
then lip-bitten and putting it back together again
at the iceberg's tip of a desk
plucking and fretting
enunciating into the void
a long time before contact

Broiled quail, candied yams and colored paper
the windrows of fortune, performing his gobble-gobble litany
with dry mount mounting half a dozen red bone, blue tick, or black-and-tan
a good many bones cornets of silver and hounds out for an evening
a little brown jug with rubber cement papers and photographs
the girl and her furry hat with fill-in flash apertures in context
critics tend to divide the rugged face and beard

Mouth of sand at the cave split,
mirrored nucleus shining from two places
underwater, nectar of stars
dripping down the lamp walls
outstretched arms that invite burning,
the sucking sky vacuuming the deep crack
with many elongating snouts,
desktops covered with shavings
from the recent trees, pens sparking,
tassels of meat tapering off at the corners,
risen blocks of frost meeting vacant tongues,
humdingers of coal raining down
on our senseless heads and bedding.

Cracked spine of the universe
stunned milky way without eyes
force-fed error after error in forms of light
vomiting black holes and dead stars
self-terrorized life staring
mirrored in denial by its kind
clawing basement walls to get at the honey.

Branches piled in the realm
of stinging wasps,
back roads made by the ax,
moss tabling a slice of pie
on sponge-worn china.
Sitting goddess calculating
the ticking of sap in the wires.
Bonfires that reject the moon,
shores of broken beer
blanket wrapped comrades
long washed away.

Roads penetrating the great wheel of space.
Cages opening from the body.
The path of the eyes through meat.
Poly rhythms crossing the midsection.
A grand parade of blood cells.
Open mouthed clouds, little fence post sitters.
The silhouette of fire on all our ice cream.

Tagged numerals who put on bodies and rebelled.
Elongated dreams that throw them across their chosen dark.
Churning the womb of heavy metal air
with cranked, skinny limbs,
hovering on hands toward no doorway.
Blooming into the earth when dropped,
and beautifully there.

Ace of white hot fires
this blanket of flesh is still moving.
Tiger flea, long fanged opossum,
canal roots gathered like tangerines
around footprints.
We'll climb birches after each other
til the paper wears off.

Barren tree stalks
clenching and gesturing like fingers.
Drum skin world tapped of liquid rubber,
tubes sticking out in knots.
Steel bridges that twitch like golden rod.
Walks that end in god.
High brambles forecasting the hard wind,
wing's beat on ornately pattern'd nests,
fern limbs on a muscled cloak.
Torsos in drag poking out of the swamp licking steam.
Fangs of a frosted land still hovering over them.
Trunks of martian fiber stacked into the opening.
Milk crates on milk crates on milk crates on cardboard.
Long secret walls with their staircases like hair
in the deep rear of the large saintly market.
Sales that whoop with a frenzy of car crash grandeur
high-fiving all the way
swimming in the keyboards of war
all lost in their private blue light
cubbyholed, subhuman humans.

Larger than a postage stamp
edge off with your knife and ruler
edge (with 2 light, short marks on the left
in this book secondary meanings are
the work and the mounting board larger
he finished format.
Some unity on your portfolio and not be required

Flown sets of carefully selected people
crawl coughing over the hills
all go where the crystalline rose barks
mark pennies with their foreheads
studiously like a mink caught
lit before they go down to the well's magnet on their shoes
rocketed in an armchair
leaning for a fire jar
packed into green and brown leaves
and rambling television salt
sunk in infinity's fever corner
with a fake leer like a plant bathed in human eyes
fountains scratched by intergalactic landings
eyeglasses nuked to the wall
door closed on the gone cat
gone Cathy's mother surrogate
gone attic black magazines
tinkling with music
in the tooth forever

2 o clock blues

Under the blue dome of New Hampshire
where I reside like a glass eel
people are screaming at me from windows
in meaningless tongues,
the high winds are rowing cattle
people have figured out that I am a crazy creep
and there is nothing I can do about it
ripples are going off to the edges of the world
to be doused in further ripples
celebrated Sundays are vibrating in ceremony and bread
there is a circus of fools unfriendly
to strangers and the strange
and they lurk in their lounges and hallways of death
like the zone of a drowning minister
punching and fawning no shortage of prophylactics
setting up stones and hopping over them in quick succession.

Pillow hills throbbing back lit fringe
burrowing sky
touched bark and scratched air
flowing in teams of light
particles over the river
slugs dying in tandem
warped and melting pairs of walls
pudding for vast sky ships to pour into
thuds of aching earth pricking into the aftermath
of harmed skin and blood over the concrete
slimming time and sidewalks
talking through the power lines
with the voice of an articulate baby
who needs meat to land on
and is no hostage of perhaps a mask
man of leaves
in my humming I am a vibrato vein
for the pickle or freeze sleep of a silent wind.

I am water
exhibiting signs of nervousness
water accepting a paycheck
water is what I give to you
because I just flow that way
water undressing the room
sneaking through the tableature
rearranging the notes, the string
on my shirt, the propellers
that don't cut, the currents
that don't document
what they take down
water changing positions and narratives
water taking umbrellas apart
water switching places with me
until I am my own double
who grinned at time
til time grinned back
hard.

Come to the autumn buds,
constellation dweller,
unharmed child of the narc squad.
Flock in seeds that sell yourself
to places sticky with gold.
Torn dwellings will name you.
You will get to see your currency in light.
Totems of stacked lids
will surround you with their errors.
The machineries of day and night
are different from one another.
You will gather a family around yourself
and then shuck them off.
Calamities will braid
through the cells of angry creation.
Hubris will move under the clouds
with total passion.
Beautiful ones will have their blade marks,
dunces dragged into the rain
will make orphans of a toolbox.
And the symmetry of death
give its underside to the sun.

Coming from the turgid mouth
over a hillside of fires and still pools
side by side, careening missiles of humanity,
we take wooden hands from splintering hallways
that have fed on long fluorescent lights
and descend to the valley of water tanks
to devour meat and coffee.

Burning infinity down
together we had a fire,
this quickening place
frosted deep, animal froth
in the pocket of an otherwise smashed life,
that vibrates with sonic flowers.

Blooms glued on the air,
little buds of ecstasy and terror
furred to mark the bits of bright time
with instantaneous formation
of the many in one,
the falling partners and those whose harmonies are calling
with a cask that owned them across the green water
from the ate up start.

Intricacies that chime like sharks,
swill of days promised to toilet paper,
amazed circuitry that winks
back at itself from its own light,
the entanglements from limb on limb
with which we are dancing,
and the horrified eyes and the mocking eyes
standing up on glaciers.

Passageways glued to you
will follow the desert,
hunger on tin respond to sunlight.

Plumes of speech
bleeding from the long mouth.

Worries printed on your tongue
flicking receipts in the twilight.

The animal life of the boreal forest is frozen
aquaculture and harm
food grown by convention
forests, hillsides, semiarid problems
blood vessel slums in the United States
the sleek rapidity of nonexistent water,
genetically improved vacuum cleaners, jackhammers, and golden insect vitamins

Pinioned to the start,
arms from ears
folded across my forehead,
I listen to the telephones of insane ministers
quacking and barking
and run to the voiceless part.

Eggshell lids open
on the rum of my eyes.
Tree branches cascade and cross
up through the blue afternoon.
Ceremonies left behind
fade under the water.

When I thought I had strength to give,
I needed succor.
Now I unfold my memories
all over the pock-marked earth.

And the river of my death
pokes my heel through
the curb of a cracked sidewalk
into the rain forest heart.

Shot out over the green highway
reminded by smoke and sun
mounds melting and feeding mud
veins slimming to the sound of sliding plates
slashed water and complicated tongues
a cinch, a pure product
lovingly I sit in the drizzle of aftermath days
waiting for the closing beauty
to come in radiating queen of spade whips
leather plumes stung flyers arriving
from sky depths
shapes of galaxy-far places
hung in their eyes like a daub of paint
and cemented throughout.

Echoes of basketball stadiums
a ripe winter and an eater of winter
over the soaked and exposed grass
centuries of winning closed to bids of wimpy mustaches
the fringe of heedless autumn
backing into a high brown rock wall and backyard sand
the pure prime ant hill
for all animals of shelled being to congregate on pinpoint
brought to the outskirts of throttled there with the water
devours a sandpaper face
thoughtful vacuum who consumes in whispers
talk wafer of a pilfered bed's pillow
graciously giving way to a wagging cliff-face
french fries and mozzarella sticks
plunked to the glass table of a raw midnight,
chalk children aching ring's rind.

You rule a dead phone.
You make armored gestures in the night.
Somewhere a skyline is drawing on your eyebrows.
Somewhere a treepole is spinning its flowerets off.
Chainsaw sparks in the guts of the day.
Money running its mouth.
Oaks of sand giving vapor leaves to the centerless air.
Toppled monopolies of iron coated in toothpicks.
Land furniture that walks around.
Toasted brine of hair and eyes
looking back through the terse curvature.
Cinnamon waffle ceiling skimming by in waves.

I was feted
and would be destined;
pulse in a garden walk
kickball
tongue pickling the air
in a visible body of fire
totally committed to the slow violence of error
moving as a big horse
toothed on like a rat's corner;
tear-tucked and non-
melodramatic, just
ice being cool.

Green tinted windows to the sea
reserved for plunder;
an eye growing beautifully
in the center of the body.
A tour of glass that never ends,
carting beds of silk on long-handled steam.
The whip of streets cracking over our foreheads.
Printed lives terrorizing the colors.
Comb of toxic suds in a long hallway of dirt.
Summoned cacophony raining lint
from a gash in the afternoon, wired pretzel people
in the upper rooms, fanging attics with sound and vapors.
Imps in the far-fetched, catching nuggets
from golden blueberry hills.

Long planets warm in the hive
trembling on lassos that
turn in what is nation/world
stuff from a crib of silence
stars banking on
what brown life has been revealed
thousands of imperfect lives brewing
regrets on blossoms and regrets
thousand lips
hip beaches turned upside down to the sun
fern vacuums spewing and spewing
time in an obelisk headlock.

Threads of blood stretch and twang like rubber
between me and a woman,
many women can pick them up and pull,
I find strength in flight
when their slingshots my nerves have snapped,
I find bridges in the air
where they have cast me,
and climb to my old habitat
where I go to bed with suicide
and try to come up alive.

Thorn stripes jettison bodies
banana hands grip weight of galaxies
torn men fall on planets of stone
grates leak old water to basement creatures
specks of sand in the eye of the mute
wan waiting terrorized babies
flexed beams enter a crater dome
flying skies scoop them out
rubble faces moving up
from a calloused earth.

Footprints on the backs of long arms,
linoleum breastplates, shining violet
gingerly replacing the sun,
tree lids anointed by dust,
heated hallways smitten with gas,
a zebra curled up in the palm
of a vibrating hand,
the smile of liquid things
in the hammock of a downward arc,
four streets converging into a melted star,
a fold of soft concrete,
before the muffled languages tap
their earthquake heart,
dancing on the damages of chrome
through the fumes of a setting world.

Soft footed on a broken bridge
toothbrush pocket and a long walk
to the diamond-cracking factory
brother sister nemesis births
loves parched and separated beyond what speaks
doses ripped from fresh suited armor face
frame heard frame ribs frame flesh
in an aching comma
and he follows a rain cloud
to the vast pan of the sea
wearing my clothes and sizzling
there.

In the dawn burn
I saw the earth open a new heart
the crushers on the horizon taking a lunch break
pistons streaked with zinc and the blood of the caves
graphite lungs on the water-wet rock walls
shimmering twilight stored in a fissure of the time stream
in the hidden ground of a thousand year march
to the crag peak land's impossible empire
gushing and walking planetary years
to spill on the belly and bed down
with no calendar drone's bones
as green takes the shutters' transparency.

Boom boom sticky rip
flipped magnets racing lips down
corridor of mercy that melts
the edges of many battles
tool shop of silent ears and rabbit shadows
burning hyacinth thrown against a rippling wall
blade's flight ended in a stump of ages
burned hall's coal mirror of reshaped souls
plucking with finger thumbs
long sounds over the arc of rug fur
ropes around the belly of a drum
signing palm print letters on wood
sending flocks to their unfulfilled longing
whipped with the flick of a list
names assigned like uncooked rice.

Doom of life always present within me
calling bridge to bridge
watching the monkeys on the highway
watching the violence eat shapes and space

cauldron of error which persecutes violence
clogging the blood system of root, error
of oblivion, error
and of wakefulness questioned by constant clamor
near dark and asking light

what palpable being takes air
and recycles its colors, eating
and remembers its wearing cycles, eating
and remembers
its fading nature like a tooth
in the everlasting fabric of resistance.

Fugitive everywhere I go,
few dawn voices,
mostly sliding suns,
pines lapping the ticket of fire,

fugitive everywhere I go,
shrugged off by transport,
severed by extending universe,
newly ported,
ducking through meals,
split by a lunar gash,
knuckled under by tar like fleas, like lice
diminishing in spite of crude multitude,
sagging from angelic haste
and leaving it behind for the maggot's carcass,

fugitive everywhere I go,
I lunch with gigglers to attempt,
I leave with many shadows to burn in,
I stock the haunted cafeteria,
I print the waffles and the stacks of books,
flung to the skim milk,
charged with keeping the temperature gauge lively,
slept on by the slept on,
unsheeted with the sheeted,

fugitive everywhere I go,
I stun the cooler, I slither
onto metal bars,
I crawl through acid pools
on a grown-over and pock marked playground.

Spatially distorted eyes,
wax wings, claw feet on quartz
piling intestines, crossed heart
a walking fog
a tenement bridge in moss
tenor draining wounds
into a high sack
big lit laboratory crashing
the spark from the blade of a plow
drowned into season.

Hey flowerettes, flung down
on hallowed concrete,
do you scream to the belly of my only womb,
do you desecrate, do you break,
is there a speaking in you that decorates
the wet lakeside rocks,
does the park infiltrate
its own service with lapped-up drones,
is we cloaked in a great conspiracy,
pounded and spread
beyond the nature of moss and fog
with a beaming greased nose
reflecting time's hate, time's
moods and time's tug of wounds
convinced by fullness thereof ?

In my animal body
I climb conversations numbingly,
hovering to stare at the blades of a vast fan
above all their heads, painting the air
with a drum, with an echo's heart,
an ass dog, fluted by the twanging calves,
hired by the flame's movement
to see beneath matter
and time.

Shrimp borders shift sodium continents
there are many missing things
and the fluffed horizon
aches like a man taking bread
but the sky woman accomplishes him
and the sinking ice cream parlor accommodates him
and the falling volcano loves his beard and his sneer
and the fucked earth convulses back
with a creaming vengeance
as he cries into the stem of a glass bird
how he needs someone to help him waste his days away
in the longing mountain.

Abysmal boy with beautiful lanterns
eyes promised to nowhere that have mapped the highlands
the syrup of lasses unconquered
glass diners breaking open into lit streets
with only the flow intact
butterfly hands that have found their longing
swooping phones on the head from a sky wire
tears that have turned to copper coins
mirrors that clamor for their footprint slash
he shines the windows between seasons
that have warped each other's borders into ramps.

The clear path painted with blood,
twilight hardening air,
bridges swinging from quick clouds
a torn world in the evening.

Glass shields irritant menus
where sheaths flower
against a wound.
Parks and bars thud
with radiant, smeared voices.
Dusk on salted figures
shot out the streetlights.

Oily hands move over the horizon
and stir the broken glass
with cut skin.  Bankrupt cities
coupled with smokescreen time.

I anchor my life to a cloud
and I am wheeled away.
Days in the painter's cabin
conceiving of nothingness
draped in endless purple.

Cutting thought from sad flesh
wind tapering into the aftermath.
Clothed pinnacles towering wheat.
Knuckles on the dashboard
highways eating mud
high orange needles manifesting
through the dark narrow tree'd roads.

Bridges of the concrete eagle
cracking the glass of city hall's door.

Fountain body, blood spring of leaves
and thorn-led acres, skin trash
picking copper from the moon
under colorless siege, the sun's
sand-printed scimitar, a lone wasp
sweeping ten-mile hallways
with red palms of torn hands,
food codes in the oblivion dome,
the smiling lion at rest, snow's heat
at the spine of his back,
taped pages of stomped-out speech,
carpet's highway of balding maps,
year's creases burning through
to overwhelming light, and digital time
in an orange gravy, stapling
signed corn ears to a dancing frog.

Bright flow of broken sky
feathering on slates to write
the end of life,
xylophone porches dangling wheat,
kissed fur and whipped fur melting eyes
from the ancient glacier's interior,
refrigerated doors protruding tusks,
drums on roofs of stored grain,
boxed-in ribs burning through
the flesh of a fat white belly,
spear tips scrawling in cursive
on the hull of an evil ship,
unraveled hands dangling on busted keys,
a riot of geese in chalk dust halls,
twitching assemblies repainted
in gasoline glories, meteors
furrowing the careful
narcissistic graveyards,
mate carrying mate
into the caverns of blue fire.

Curtains melting on the sun
let through the tinkling ice
from cracked and flowing beyond.

Dunes of plastic salt
surrounding the disabled fuckers.

Slashes that bleed bodies
through the grid's wide fabric.
Those injured by non-earth
limp past

to a basement at the bottom
of a small pond.

In the hollows of ornate empty space
that the body hides,
I place petals with no messages
dripping sulfur, curling on the fire of my bones,
draping the angles with velvet heat,
all earth's trees leading up to a skull
in which the fat of whales and tinker toys are
calculated by a musical laundromat
depositing cigars and masked lips
on the wet concrete's
fractured infinity.

Ribbons roll the sky
she left behind and cleft
from what was closed.
Dawn tapping the earth
from clay-gloved fingers,
birds falling off into woe.
Voices softly sharing harmony
above a picnic table,
bodies of water turned
upside down surrounding
them kissing slime'd air.

Ice floes caught in the bramble river
trembling on thorns
light tapping corners
sky's crunch touching time
blood feathers in the frozen walls
of death's civilization
shelves thin as hair
give way like vagina
houses spinning like dice
items of cared-for exhibitionist history
falling from the dock's city
bright warships wretchedly ripped
and eating the dog shit of their deaths
in the oily, luxuriant
earth water.

Lemongrass highway glowing
cat teeth on the bright fiber optic tips
brown sky raining heat on tap water lakes
broken rocks on the earth's core teeth
long alien tunnels erupting salt
to the fire-branded surface
thirsty trees in the grip of flailing power lines
cones of meat and wood
plunging through wide veins of slain atmosphere
lifting buckets of painted blood
searing blades on the announcement screens
bend to flick hairs they scraped
from the heads of running monks
hills part for the footpath
of a screaming escapee
in the programmed wind.

Bright empty wheels silkscreen
my circulatory body, lifting
wires from satin, pushing shores
of clay from volcanic sand,
flashing alphabets erased
from the backstage eyelids
pulling golden ropes
as they punctuate a graveyard forehead
with leaking light
cracked slates crushed chalk
dust the suit of a corpse
in a strawberry patch
near a jug on a porch
that is holding the dark milk blood
of the myriad galaxies'
alive candelabra.

Terror reflected in the afternoon moon
sun on the armor of daylight
shells that shake the trees
fires blooming in the palm of a hand
bark suits and lichen eyes
computer circuit shields rain spat on
palace doors opening a redwood
moistened eyes on the longest limb
reaching sky or ground
as the earth rejects its seeds
and the golden frames of wide rivers
are stripped by the water's grief
wrapped in lava's robes
and pierced by a thimble.

Slate roof tells the sky's paint lightly
long paths up the hills are tarred and furred
footprints filling up with hail
blades on the eyes of a stone god
lakes of rice and almond milk
draining over the highway salt
mythical hands on the handgrip bronze
that feeds bullets flat noses
and sells needles to the chimney sweeper
backflips on a burning lawn
tubs rattling grain
fish bang in the interrupted corridors
sleep curls on chrome embankments
pouting tits under dissipating skies
ripped faces unwilling to cry to anyone
gathering under the eaves of a bombed-out temple
sex idols clamoring wheat in the temporary time

My crazy lemon with her
crazy old lady teeth
black gummed frenzy across
the grey ashed floor
chasing the echo of
a rat or squirrel
pebbles and peanut foam
in the darkening wall
field opening a face to the split hair
of galaxy crushed and ice
forest gleamed eyes of fear
stirring in the waterglass,
commas hollowing
tipped air.

A failed self-redeemer
I am lost among polarities
seeing the value in wrongness
protecting a fit
shelving costume after costume
on what turns out to be
a janitor's windowsill
freshly shined with strong chemicals
a face coming out of the ice wind
a juggernaut of grins on porcelain floors
listing toward the feedback with a bucket
floating book after book on the cemetery walk
watching fountains from a bench of exploded rock
curved for the sleeping alien head
that hear branches in granite.

Suspended in falling leaves
the flying body gathers
universal wind, atomic eyes
leering back from a tar pit
of water.  Reflected weight
dashing its symetry
in a fit of essence.
Cloth idols encompassing skin.
River side paths burned
to a crisp by angelic feet.
The sky hung with errant banners.
Death on a wheel dripping spikes
of lily's hammer
tagging stones with
powdered wounds.

The moon is a low yellow bucket of blood.
In the markets, in the casket, dull shine
still goes on, thuddingly low
on cascading merchandise,
while the teddy bear drips with eyes.

Purple outskirts roll back
over underground chimneys
and sunken leafy wells.
Porches leer toward vacant water,
the endless sky is restless.

Man's habits and ideas have
run their full course, and now
he will banish himself.

THE HUMAN EARTH ALMANAC

Gardens and farm paddocks plants and water weeds
kingfishers and magpies soldiers entwined writhing parentage
the line of a naked arm
the tender flowers growing from the dark
the cat stalks vertical architecture
bearing strawberries in a matted-row system
infected with clubroot, her mouth lipsticked to match the end of time.

FLASH PORTRAIT

Palisades wrapped in newspaper
stuck to oiled wood
by the blood of the earth
eyes above the whittled spikes
man in a torn bikini
grimacing with hate

JANITORIAL TRIBUTE

Boom boom booty for my mouth
and nose and cock to fuck!
Ferns trembling in the corners
of the dining gardens.
Skylights ruptured by blue paint
submerging sky.  Jokes of falling death
on the speckled ladders.
And her walk by which even
the stereo waves would warp and
bow down to.

Rip a body from the day
that wafts down through iron realms
vomiting forced laughter.

Rip a body from the day that comes
bringing nothing.  Rip a body
from that day and a bunch
of cloth soaked in fever sweat
that gets stuck in its mouth
among the clouds, where
no spirits swim.

And fuck that day.

Lanterns crawled over the flesh
a tower of teeth
grey garments soaked in night pools
the right haircut for a corpse
a silence disclosed by the lips
torn fibers of fluorescent optics boom
glinting home on a garbage plane
watching sun flip the cracked road
and the flying moon eat estate
shut this world barnacle hole
flush it blood throated
with the blood of many
unmissed persons.

Luckless red rock
  our modern color words
     nascent eyes show the female's mantle cavity, and
              the ceiling in strands
               weight of a grain of rice near one of her oviducts

the planting of synthetic names
    blind mouths, wounded prey
              most of the light in the sky

Hillsides crammed with
cabins on a scorched edge
hillsides mapped by blowjob sites
and wheelbarrow routes
hillsides run with beer discarded
cans and tiny bottles running with trash
sand and ash eat the altars
embers blacken on the bouncing stairs
the tops of her feet are hillsides
collapsing in my eyelid's thump.

Circuits over the tar paths
suggest stars.

We have our dressing room it's just like living in a mobile home
wall-to-wall red shag and air conditioning with a double bed
and we have our own brother for people to live in
lots of circuses painted silver
I live on the circus
only circus people get to go there
and play on it

NEW METHODS OF DEATH RACKED THE INVENTION OF IMPRESARIOS FOR OVER FIFTEEN HUNDRED YEARS

Ink supple calfskin jacket

two chicks, a pair of carved walrus tusks

perpetual lawns in the sky the warrior-pope

the leatherback decades, architects, builders, and city plan

green-roof systems of god the oak was the tree of life

mushrooms that Tibetans pick in the summer the life-giving force of

her slender, beautiful form, precursor of the earthbound ideal

bodies like guilds and church orders conical head like an artillery

flat, fine clay of the seabed absorbed

blown off his perch by the hurricane the nude figures allow

recognized as a leatherback primal repose

shades into a silhouette with winglike front flippers

SELF STORAGE

Electrical limbs of distinctive womanly music
that liquid metal falls into my faithless corridors
riverbanks honking on ice to barricade a thin head
that remembers them,

the skull coming apart like a pomegranate shell
lime skinned ants on fire in the graves returning
fronds of earth rhythm that intercept the moon
and spark purple radiance
an ark of lilies and juniper

gods thumping the water in an obscene drill
while lunatic locker rooms erupt in speed and blood
and the pattern of these come apart atop a hieroglyph
letting loose arabesques that quack quack quack
the belly of a fiddle warped by water and vinegar

cutting loose and broken bowed on a high ridge
aloft in the scent of a trillion cooking chickens
swapped for a dim male and numbed
to nurse the aftermath until breathing
the curse of a painted canoe
and a long path to the sea
shitting and creaming in her lacquered spandex.

Winged and helmeted, but otherwise naked as a tobacco store
the hollow shards, the bombers limping granddaughter prototypes
to do a quadruple, catching a hurricane made of pure silver
in our flying act, hoping it's still called a circus
if you fall into the net over warm cake
he likes to ride his motor wherever we're parked
the bright red-orange color is refrigerated.

Fold me up into the void.
Mute my voice in the younger
movements of brothers and sisters.
Turn my grill to the moon.
Having betrayed one tribe
and been rejected by another.
Reshaped by a wave
of feminine form
from the man-torn sky.
Plucked like a berry
angry at the stem.
Taste in the mouth
of the earth's core.
No tart no tea no war
wheat worked of life's hours
flowering from the planet
chaff condom's off
buttery has-been cocks
quill'd with mercurial feathers.

LIFE ZONES WITH SPICED APPLES THAT TICK ALL THE RIGHT BOXES

Emerald island dies
on the crackling earth,
dies flouting its solitude
under a hood of vapor,
cracks descending the soil
that had made its foothold.

And the deer turd path
punched into the snow
with the mold of the imprinted earth
radiating out of it; so that
my eyes dampen at the grace
so recently passed, and the caution
of the thumbprint in the soles
of my feet, weight of consciousness
planet wide stacked on erotic statues
only as a hat's brim scrapes the horizon
highways buried in blood cargo
holograms of private misinformation
fences knocked like paint
hide with the hornets.

Emerald island goes on closing its doors.

STRIKE THE NEW WORLD COLONISTS

Port Royal fell through the ages
into the sea to be divine since the same area had been shaken
God on sin crushed to pieces at the optimist school
them mother mechanics to the seismic waves
until the sandbar quivering land reports its treasures
its tall medieval spires and sulfur long opened cracks in the earth
electrical gable ends fell from brick houses like the waves of the sea
and the famous gilded cricket of human wickedness
that opened at Scituate, on Massachusetts Bay.

From a quartz perch
stung in its fractures
by the dreamed body passing
I speak from my kneecaps
with darts of fire to a tall mouth.

Nobody is talking in the moss highlands
where icy moons carved
a railroad canyon's sides'
homesickness for dynamite.

Posts on electric hill
twitching toward collapsing markets
with a leer in torn plateau
like a ragged knife wound
burning needles and no gold tin.

Herded redwoods sending
cinematic shivers through
the wanderers of sex.

THE STOLEN VILLAGE CARPET

Piles of cow dung to keep people sick
stunted olive trees and stony cornfields
hard-hitting eye creams
romantic old world charm in a nonclassical approach to narrative, space, and time
raw diamond geology and geometry to shoot dozens
bush-clad ridges, fertile plains and rolling labyrinth
stained-glass claw-foot balconies
left no incandescent space
and made bloodless peace
giving him wood-block charge of bright, bizarre castles and palaces
symmetrical compositions forbidden by the government intrigues
a display of wealth accorded low social rank headquarters
dance origins of samurai swordsmanship's autumn shoe

Over hills ribbed as carcass,
over rivers that gleam,
I am stalking my infant
intuition, that only the sun
exists.

Touring emptied ponds
and water-lanes lined
with half-rotted leaves
and scum, the secretive eye
of a muskrat.

Dashing nude to the vines, the vapor,
the sight of snakes, the well
of the ground breaking open
like bread.

CHARTING THE SPLENDORS OF NEURON

The glacier's leading edge
freedom walkers and mountain bikers following the coves and ridge lines
hectares of vineyards and parkland leather aprons
panoramic mudbricks and macrocarpa
the iron x-ray that couples with the shirt collar
reflective door of the theater sharp gypsum crystals
          greasy mud popcorn rocks
                    huddled like gnomes
                         swirling dust and grit

THE PERFECTION OF PILGRIMAGE PORNO GODS

Pinkish flames flickered in the behavior of the mountains
rigging new and vastly harder rock
a crazy quilt  of sponge-textured volcanic collisions
huge, rigid plates in a saucy hat and kinky boots
the provocative androgynous mess
sheets of igneous rock called beautiful apprentices
the accumulations of ash, a hail of hot pumice
while her foot presses down on his hot, plastic face

RHYTHMIC OBSERVATORIES

    Green all over the world
       from rammed earth bricks and roofed with hand-split airborne particles
          in hollow trees or in the abandoned burrows of other mammals
 the earth's crust is alive with this particular point
   the sun and the moon to appear bluish shacks and makeshift volcanoes
     a basic knowledge of earth structures, a rudimentary laboratory
      a column of rock and fire blasted up in one titanic explosion
       with subarctic pastures and scrub conifers
                         black basalt
                                 lacerated
parallel fissures   as if the island had somehow been slashed
 tufted
   with       architecture and art   as the centuries went by

Dragged by the sun
to a chain link corner where
tension is eating the garden of
the face of a man,
the kickball past
a hammer of wood stack fallen
against the firewall, to blanket smiles
with gunk of talk, and eat the daily
news anally.  In the upside down room
a cranium of lead redden fire
boil the swamp top down
with a cool eye of orbit's pressure
warped cone coming down to swing set
lifting off with a thought-hooked
penis and a single desk.

Poor old peter weather gale
went the long milk fence faking it
dramas of love in the belly
of a scorched piano
howls of mercy that turned
into weapons in the morning,
lots of tar tarnished ice
leading down to the weeping of engines
on the grim peak of man,
the hands of hell
with their butter of uselessness
arms hanging limp
as the world they operated
subsides like a wound.

Barnacled sea mask
fallen through the breasts and turf
bruised chin speaking rage
throat pouring teeth
burst head slithering blood ideas
flaxen cemetery of buried wasps
graves of tents and icicle beards
rivulets of bronze cereal
to the corners of the king's den
piling and chuckling in potassium
bubbling at the mustache of health
zone-scanned mask
that has forestalled the slippery futures,
piloting painted arial
over the stones of white moss
clucking geese from the downward path
of a torn sky bugged eyes inwardly diving
green scum of the womb
lit by siren tubes.

Mirror glades with soft green
screws turning
turf smiling in shreds
where the web's gloves
found a canyon
glinting with spraypainted mice
spiders unused by time
and hag's teeth on a
human-made brush
salivating for frozen blood.

Ribbon path staked to the sky
drooping between stations
slipping blades on hinges
harmlessly to the darkened earth
trek dropped from the stars
and the sight of fur.

I will befriend you, absence,
and hollow out your parts
in the mighty wind.

(RECOGNITION ON THIS SCALE WAS IN THE FUTURE; AND WAS PART AND PARCEL)

The brilliant architect, whose dome painted

           the campanile of the cathedral; and

                  outshone his fellows, but in general

            encrusted with

                     rippling strands of

                      indescribably delicate "angel

                              hair" crystals, some 30 feet

                                  cave pearls

                                      whose pristine water is free of calcite

                                        the raw natural diamond

                                    who can congregate in the depths of a holding pattern

                                                 a thousand feet of goose

                                                     the backbone of the power system

Flying cages of aftermore
pursuing halos over factory ideas
burning ferns on picnic high
dwelling green in the water
of the depths where
I lost my engine heart
and regained the anvil.

Fogged moon that softens
the bankrupt sky.
Blades of long grass
holding her feet
to the brick of heaven.
Keening dulcimer
touching quiet tombs
in the chest cavity's
wan valentine.
Wooden tassels that crisp
when attached
to the proper headgear
taking circuits through
the breasts of bronze
and marble things.
Museum with a thick tongue
rolling its embers back and forth
like paper jewels.

Fox trotting through space,
atmosphere on purple ten,
wagging my raw materials
in curr-like fashion.

Spectacles of rose anus
on my hidden eyes.
Ledges falling into the street.
Pickled talk in the flashback concrete.

Striped entrances that skirt the pool.
Knotted walks terrifying blood
and hungry for the womb.

You are training spirals
to go past the body's movements.
And furnishing a sky with bronze escapes.
Grey tempers flare from a locomotive window.
Tear's droplet that is carried
and wound into the steel rails.
Booming pasture and the breast
of bird is the hills.
Shock of reeds from the mouth
of a clown.  Blood on the roots
of a stone temple the mountain
hid.  Hungry women who stride
the wall.  Tickets falling
out of their mouths.

DREAMS OF KNOWING WHEN THE PEOPLE OF THE CIVILIZED EARTH WOULD BE GLAD TO KNOW A WORLD GONE MAD

Time of the beams, and the reported odd behavior of some animals
the trail of an anise-scented bag with simultaneous vertical motions
fish-shape flames swept repeatedly across painters and poets, writers and dancers,
architects of city and suburb nourishment
in which air power would affect a museum or art gallery anywhere

Long walks when the world was
changing, a ringed flag on the hills.
Bit cemeteries pulsing pool light.
Flapping strides that fell through it
like the dailies.  Ignored beauty
that became a spear of eyes.
Pummeling stalk figures with the aid
of the air.  Moving through the dead streets
with the fire of blood.  Diminished time
flaring its ass and nostrils to the
female wind.  Names burned off by
salt and sand in the heat of day.

Staggered harbors, purple cattle
roaming the wounds of the earth,
ships dangling fate of naked bodies in nets.
Fertile tremors of life from the earth
new energies in space
the overcoming thing
in the quells of the heart.

GOLDEN-MANTLED ROYAL BEAVER PARK OF CARNIVORES

The points are the beast squirting chlorine
this chameleon like motes behind a faded window
mountain-framed beans and bullets a slain buffalo's stomach juices
trail junkie who made a gust of wind ripple Your web

THE JOY OF HISTORY

A gentleman powdered his hair, braided it, and often doubled
running naked through the streets, bristling with rockets and machine guns

THE SCOURGING OF THE GRAND DESIGN

Blended into a single holocaust
its subsurface layer of chalk land slumps and ground fissures
seismological data are fed into the tree-encircled old house
kingdom from having kindled a fire with seething liquid
air trembles and rumbles the mountain knee-deep with ash
three small pools of water, one hot and tasteless
lake edifice like an elevator
the levee breach lava lake's plunge of epimagma
the walls of the water and drink sell her body
for their seasonal retreats

Long plains open to gloved hands
eyes in the river boil
for height and cloud
skinny dippers running on the shore path
soil draped and pounded solid on jagged rock
hasty body climbing the veins of a mountain
hasty car from heels & forepaws
botching up on a stone fence dripping sparks
ferns trembling in circles of heat
near the yellowjacket's nest
teepee is a soured bungalow
forts are twined to saplings
in a squirrel crowd
leaves are fluttering to reach
and latex cross and fold the earth