Blood spills from my books
to the mouth of a raccoon
by the water that spreads its words
he drinks and speaks like chemical man
scrubby chin touches my eye
from a dumpster heart
my language eats his mouth
he keeps speaking it
rises to take my shape
stretching and clothing himself
with my thrift and baggage
stoking himself with the night moon
eating thin-wrapped fruits
from a bronze basket,
running and gleaming
with drums and sour drink around the fire
turning to fling reflections
for the ribbon onlookers
turning to eat roads instead of conscious time
then trapped in an armchair screaming
ten tons of microwaved eyes.

A broken honeyjar
some ladies used to like
stuck on the same avenue
fumbling painted gloves
reborn from the woods and a fallen bicycle
reborn from a moss crotch in the rain
thinking under a large leaf
about the relation of skull to sun
long metal on wheels, smoking past
him stuck to his taped and gummed subway line
clawing an amp
figuring torn time into the cracked stone
under his rhythmic feet
that drum to his stunned column
from where a fire breaks out
and finds his forked heart,
the fangs that shape his silk
and the tumult of unwanted souls
in his backyard mind
breaking out in purple stains
that they assembled from
and bones of wheat that shake
beans of the eyes
down into this busted glass
to settle dust with scripts lashing
like tongues til they pick it up
lay down stick to the breathing current
poised by rum to stand front of the woods
then jump the stalks that stab the belly
the lid the gods liked
gone.

Phallic towers of huge refineries attaching the interior sill

SILK THISTLE PANSY DUCK WOOL

A bright, shiny roof shoots out the north stairway
produces a breakfast room to oyster tongues
cracked corn scratched down by the blue winter

fire opals robed in redbud
her brushy tail is thick with moments of frozen beauty
the mountains of Maryland are meant to be sipped

the flat iron that sits on the back eye of peanuts
at the top of the finest fool ever invented for cracking black
under the spell of the locust leaves
through stained glass
are poor people

They've trapped me in an identity I don't want.
I must tear my flesh in front of them
to show how much I hate it.
Until the cash machines come out of the woodwork
and chirp like marionettes.
Before the moon of blood makes its ninth circuit.
Shitting from my ears to the sides of a plastic mouth.
Convincing them I want it, a glorious and heated social being,
A cock-bitch with no leash on his soul,
another superior product.
An important messenger from self-inflicted hells,
his own naked secretary.
Until the mirrors shrink to mica flakes
and turn on long delicate wires.
Before they've lashed onto me
with their eyes that claw shapeliness.
Shitting from my pores
on the sheen of an enemy's front deck,
stunned in front of the townsfolk
with a killer's visage.
Showing them I need it, this net of empty sights,
this caged atlas wheeling aisles covered in bubble wrap.
In defiance of my own life and happiness,
in the hope they'll let me borrow their tools
to chisel away this face
their hands in the dark have helped me to see.

Torso my subject
I watch bodyguards bleed into pans
the green leaves painted silver
descending to the pale grey floor
of faked and clotted earth
hammered to a level beneath them.

Muscular foreheads emerge
from the bodiless
part of the body.
Torn veins surface on the eyes
that bleed there.
Jawbones stapled to the knees,
spine wrapped
around the punctured heart
feathers in clotted hair.

Chest split open like a cracked claw.

The voice of man is puke in an aluminum alley.
The works of man dribble with stupidity in complex ways.
Banish him, and he resurfaces
in your sacred places
with a wolfsmile.

Bubbling taint, he ravishes his own expertise.
In the presence of others
he is a duckling doll.
Around the edges of the bath
he plants  nuclear femurs.

Man demon machine
feel them scrubbing
metallic sides with skin grafts
the early alarm system torn loose
from the fabric of the body
shields made of clay,
an ornithologist's gaze
tightened over rice paper graph
the elegant deceptions of silk
a blade in the oiled guts
coming forth in straps and a valentine gun
grinning sheaths of plastic teeth
black as tar gum
snuffing out the stars
that land of them

Once you've walked to the door of the earth
and the streets say through your feet
you can't walk here anymore,
scurrying over a mechanistic void
still you make your way
a beat-down shrimp,
a fucking square loser,
one crimson dot,
a pullover,
a sheet to stack over death,
sets of swings on step after step of earth
sun gashed on the prominent path
works of machine engineering
thundering over tenement steps
like the work of shadows with signs and tents
mussel shells in black and silver blats packed over the eyes
a bowler hat on each foot
sweating.

Rivers of bedsheets
washing up on a stone roof
galaxies in the chest bone
bursting past the mirrors
raw paint on scab wound garden
rust tank in a tear drop
on the animal lawn--
shades ripped on the sloping driveway
pretzel'd forms anointed by blue electricity
twigs turning on the windowsill
wasp's hook in the ring of flesh
digging and spring-bouncing
lewd rocks and tan hillsides
flanked in rolling fire of decay
are calling the trickle of ice
over radiated whispers.

Meat sticks kiosk'd
on a long concrete courtyard
walls licked by the ocean tide
frost touching fringes of rock
longitudes forsaken to the umbilical
boxes turning air
marble fenced chairs
and the wetness of bathing suits
the world drunk and the world whipped sane
weeping like madmen
the plastic alto sax on the soaked antenna
bicycle body stapled to a piano top
chains melting into maple
keys on a long stretched rope
clanging to nowhere
gowns in a taffy room
the pulp to a clenched fist closing

My spinderella, young animal
with doll hair fetched from the breeze,
water lapping the full soft pubis,
feet poised on shells in the mud,
tits scorched by the edge of the sun,
shoreline reflected in a crease
on the churning forehead--

salt ears, waistline pierced with a cross,
a fiber of vaginal metal, priestess killer
who bewitches the burning piles,
bleeder on hills that rivulet to the valleys
with prompt ink, caves breaking and pouring,
her sainted hand bound in moccasin laces
soaked in fever dreams on my winding chest,
where she lies down to muffle action words
and observe her drippings on my bearded
chins lapping back from the wax of cracked mirrors
and bent fans in a razor's eyelash

Burlesque of trees
stone walls hide blood of wolves and sheep
lattice of birds and ears
the flexing of their slender and vacant bones
question marks in the soil
from boiling magnetic answers
two faces turned to a kiss
who will be burnt away
apple halves who feast on dainty clouds
paste that answers to a skeleton
straps on the spreadeagled conqueror
tight as the teeth impact of the continents
wires in the window of the eye
bouquets of dark space in chutes
blooming against cruel light
trusting their helmets to a hammer
their tunneling has made
from the break in a swinging chain

Every planet had its own odor of flashing lights
with his hands in the air, he watched her touch the cloth of the wrong controls
that thrilling contralto, that lovely woman
a sea of wet concrete, links of green-and-yellow-striped sausage
vertical sunlight reflected back at the trunks of flowering trees

the file of animals and humans made its way out blissfully
they were beyond the main worlds of the planetary system,
the sea beds bulged strongly; the map was carved
the vehicle, having reached cruising speed, moved with absolute, smooth
computerized equivalent faster than any human in history--and
fifty forbidden worlds luminous and unrecorded on the galactic titanite lattice
honeybees growing in clumps were able to sting the distance

The factions tore me apart.
My mental home burned down.
Flowers crawl up among the edgeworks.
Vines curl around the cans
that carry our cast-offs.
Blooming and cracking earth
peers through the tar like flesh.
Tabled insincerity leaks
into the leaky pipes.
Milk cans of rainwater
jiggling on rows
of wood like wheat
Rooms sliding against
each other's emptiness.
Body-printed furniture
tumbling from picture windows
into the vast water.

A path I started cuts
through my guts on its way
to the altar of fire.
What are words in the woods,
what are limbs in the sea
of thought?

Hallowed blood surrounds me.
I am faked by the fundamental
thrust of the universe.
Urged to lose my vessel
to the immortality of others
finally I take my words out
of the clown's ears
and tumble down the stairs
out of the world's apartment house
and onto a green brown back street
singing for love of expecting none
walking in a stalemate's heart
with doorless hands
unstuck from the time of blood
by an embarassed price
crop of eyelids
orbs basking in a syrup of blindness
a weaponized void with cheers and whistles

push over a dawn's cracked wood
mushroom eyes on bent legs
crutch feet carrying a chair
the smiles and bellies and herbs on shelves
all going hurt to the remanufacture
relived by minerals and vitamin salt
to the root of the time-socked nostrils
and leaking pap.

A tadpole sun
in its silver slime of clouds
fog drilling tar through rubber afternoon
while steps of shadow selves
collide all around the torn up shrubs
gravity's hold gone lost glove in a tide pool
ripped roots and soil's water floating up
to slap a sea of helmets on descent
suds on the new wobblers
mesh on tin over shrunken faces
the day our bellies slapped together
and sent lunar through a small tunnel
an anvil's tongue
the arm of an ax
big aching web
boiled down to a stuck dot.

Imitated by the shadow, twilight limbs laid out
carpet to the cliff, bright lens tapped by charcoal
to the napkin's inner eye, long legless table
drifting past the brokenness of line-walkers,
suicide attempters and signpost smokers
the world of civilization folding up like a document
carefully prepared for some time.

Rugged in the surf, parched on land
ridding spandex of all vines, reaching like an oil,
patching the sun with captured water
hellish underbellies of ships turned up to face
it's let loose, the undulating eye
at the center of the planet that never sleeps
rending our obnoxious oxygen.

Knuckles scraping on the forests they've parched
naked through the woods, rediscovering stone
in the midst of reaching fibers, long tuberous faces
that reach out of a mossy cleft
and put a hex on daylight.

Claims that eat the speaker's face
and the ears of the sightless listeners,
bronze torpedo beltbuckle cute
the violence of capable people
an eggpole and none
the zilch tone
of animated blood.

When even solitude fails to comfort,
and the sky is stripped bare by human terror,
my fever walks on many paths,
looking for an accidental light,
intrigued by melting branches in the net of a bridge's fence,
staring at dark water, all my vacancies humming,
hooked by a swooping machine that knows no location,
taking me to amplified heights, abandoned corners,
seats where the damp wind has worn the ground thin and weird,
planes of beaten soil that fit the curve of the body,
hillsides streaming with plastic numerals in a thick soup,
hospitals with sheathed and hacked-up parking lots,
my ankles carrying wounded blood, and the tree-tunnels
that I stalk hungering with moss, with white cucumber root,
for the sinking of my knees in mud, arms like dragonfly wings,
as the pine's fallen things crackle under my wordless wail,
and I bang on the lack of hope with my tin pan head
til it gives way to green fury.

The marching trees color over me
skinned canoes carve brown water
rubber ruts put latex to the rolling berries
dragonflies don't pick on their winged,
invincible cool, princely glass of eyes
bullshit detector burning out
at the equatorial checkpoint.

The bottom of the frame seeps light, is uncut.
Fronds at the edge of a pizza park speak to me.
Picnic blankets fly up into the sky like parachutes.
The crowned warrior of nothingness' nimbus
at the river's edge, perched on a rain couch
skin stuck to yellow leaves
rolled in a goldenrod gutter
hair frosted with mud
an uprooted overcoat.

Skull empty as the egg he crawled into
mirror thick for eyes bitten by fireworks
hands on a stone fence
ass in the air for the weather messiah.

Elms attacked have knots
where the sun shouldn't be,
powerlines run through branch hearts,
whole cores crackling and absorbing
half-rotted metals of totally rotted men,
rust tangled into the rust-colored leaves
in a barricade tide, the fabric's edge
of planetary wings, bittersweet mortar of
space between space, tar-eaten molecules,
tan shoulders severed on the rim of a hat,
rivulets in sand whose paths matter like fire.

I reach like a mechanical baby
in the insanity of reason,
stitched into time
by the fangs of these humans,
drawn to the sky by a bolt,
my cranium a chimney
for all that has been hurt here,
tired of stalking signs, and missing
directions, tired of the silk
of mammal words.

Tongue bandit on a steel girder
falling with lunch through the grand scaffold
last cigarette in hand, last posture
for the talkative strangers,
face distorted in the skunk's tallest bathroom,
torn smile of earth
and the miseries of desks relieved
by a cinematic tide.

Canyons of golden flowers
eating mitts that are fond of the chemical
crawling fingers down to the bone
boosting fingertip rockets
long stalks and cones dripping with beetles
from the earth of the upturned face
smog twilight eyes
fondling snuggling sightless death's future
as it falls to greater twilight within
lampless calling, quarters naked to the deck
that awaits them.

Masks carved into the hills
clouds brushing the globe
gardens pouring out of the ears of a dead man;

pools in the foot printed ditch
a blueberry burst on the palm of a marble hand;
an arrowhead driveway

stumps of crouched and smashed bodies
watching through eyeglasses
that time has gouged into their skin--

and the glimpse of innocence is strange,
it dims and drags like rag dolls
all man's weary agendas,
and takes flight into a helpless ascent.

Dancing through the flicker street
little broken librarians
smarm unraveled in the smashed limbs
of immortal trees
big square mailboxes filling up with rain
driftwood porches and hazelwood eyes
the gentle who are punished
and the cruel who get to carry their pride
footrests in moss
cushion for loins and headrest of water
spirit on a hang glider of blue silk
open to the forests of fallen eggs that it falls on
in the quiet of country dreams

Warblers who made a net of noise for one another
throats cut, nobody calling

A raft of leaves
against the sun
a path of film expanding
feet bare to stone and glass
vague guitars landing
blood puddles all around
the ice on the conscious mind
skeleton blades gash the river bottom
canoes come pouring out of the mud trees
fully formed crowns of twigs
sky-depth hum of water landing hard
on the shattered bridges of a whale's body
stump hollowed by a lunar shaft
left dry in electrified daylight
roads staked out by the trash can
bus-beaten travelers to a frosted kiosk
wind workers searching their shins
the refrigerated tops of easy burdens
mountainous backsides moving
caves of my torn clothes
rooms of torn-out pipe
sharp shattered tile
the blaring stereo stacked on rags
the lonely room flown through
the trees and branches
armchair kicked and taped
the zone's unpainted walls

Skin ripped off and stretched
across the globe, vast trees
and shards of continental plates
pushing through pores,
disheveling the expensive angles,
painting the broken skeleton
with magma, twisted fauna
and muddy depths, that hold
the scale of a blade
whose penetration will never cease,
whose handle is a shadow
and whose edge was filed sharp
by the movement of one
looking for a womb
whose stone wheel
was faced backwards.

Spotless vacuum taking higher
the orbit of the empty
cracking wooden mouths
to run tapestries down
rings of heat in the mid-air slump
encircling bone-broken wrists
straightening hands to reach abyss quicker
light scanning the ripped face
jaw drumming bone
throat cracking in searchlight haze
ears plugged with infant fingers
the face a cabinet door
swinging open on empty bottles
closet's backless cracks

Rudderless traffic,
smashing into a soul
that does not want it.

Eyes peeled to the intractable perversion
of truth and beauty, clutching a mirthless butterfly.
Claws indoctrinated to the cliff.
Forests chopped and piled
in the space of a painted letter.

Ruts of tar holding the core's adjustment,
center breaking its masks
to vomit on the earth.

Ocean belly to spindle eyes
a pathway of cages
walked with skull balloon
bumping hovering metal sky.

Strings in the blood that crumple
on contact with the outside shields of air
ancient barriers scarring dark material.

Steeples cloaked in wax paper
plastic wrap needled by the hour hand
cornerstone smashed in the earth that moves.

Running light that pillages
empty canyons of quiet
to a bone gazebo
the children of one's death
gnashing their yarns of spittle
on a drifting bench.

Haze of droplets on the skeletons that walk
bursting into a strewn alphabet
panels against the sun
stirring the cloud laughter
paths winding out of the sky with stuck shoes
arms on a departed harp
stones in the satisfied light
puked hand in hand
vent's maze in the necks
shoreline's moving razor loosened by leaves
little spines uncurl above stems
drip mother sap to father floorless bundles.

Parties broken up over the long hills
whose voice whips through the hairs of my ears
from the jag of ridges
to winding patterns honking and honking
ropes sunk to the floor of the sea
flag's staff drowned naked in the thick of the woods
attics prickling, organ and harpsichord chords
fake flowers in greening water
where the lightning bolts flow in heaps
crane-size ants eat rubber piles
triangulated scum pops outlet mouths
worlds of melted sugar
and a tooth of soil high
in the wave falling.

Roads torn through the human form
accessories abandoned, aisles colored
with smog and vegetable light,
frame shined in its unmultiplied self,
ready for the bulb scan,
that goes into the bicycle
criss-crossed garden.

Chewed sky and thrown-up clouds
constellations dripping with smashed scaffolding
fronds longer than the continental mouth
blossoming over the head lamp
shadowing shields of glass and after-party kissers
meters ticking in deep and shallow lots.

Shutters whacked by released rain,
eyes harnessed to the horizon rip,
rudder taped to the unseeing stem
that runs and makes his many opponents.

The buttressed walls of the pint of milk
add a panache to this spot of industrial earth
finer than face powder in a freeway of spaghetti.

Slates of bitter stone
foot soles glued to the cranium's
nonsensical aperture
narrow tongues in the ripped
tubes of destroyed ears
flicking fiber optic tendrils
that peel from a steam roll
caricatures of blood
in mineral veins,
that inhabit an advertised body with ruffled eyes,
punctured heels and concrete lashes
storming a pebbled run with scraped ribs
and machete hacked chest, the wheel in the belly
split like a folded rag
and a thimble smashed.

The head full of snakes
traces the birdbrain fragment
in its skull to a harbor.
Decks wobble in the undertaking.
Ropes kiss the flesh
that pushed their vessels off.
The body's recorder brushes hooks
and eases up like wind.
Many lassos pull the legs
of a fresh dinner.
Monuments of proven clay
clamoring into skin.
Windows clenched in their hulls
like the sheaths of infinite eyes.

Apart from all this for a moment
wondering if it is possible to live life at all
without playing the fool.
Seeking wide, solitary windows,
the company of sightless leaves,
then silent branches.
And a pal said, if you're going down,
take a notebook with you, I want to read it.
That's what it is anyway, she said.
A magnet seeking locks to untangle.
Days on the china pony that won't move.
Stuffed animals paid for with tickets of metal.
The sky claw dropping drinks and meaty favors.

The idol eats until he is transformed.
Until the space he traverses becomes
a frame that's aimed at him.
Others are transformed
by his consumption.
They are the mouths
that open to be eaten.
He consumes more and more of them
to change outfits and be posed
on the surface of their things.
Full of their mouths, their emptiness
and openness, he is paid
to lose control.
His love and hate is their excretion.
They live to harm one another
and celebrate his success.

Maples tap to tap
send stone messages in blood

Sleet on the high peaks' canyon'd rock,
duels with mossy sticks and leafy gun-shapes,
features sanded with salt, glass cut to fit
the edge of the fire-pit,
a melted slide on the ribs
made crooked to smile a trash can mouth
down technicolor taste buds a long wood's shine
scorched by glove-handled wells
the snowbank gut rot catcher
rhythms with long tracers
and plastered streamers
from the mountain's blood.

BARNACLES GROW TALL AND TEARING DOWN WALLS CAVE IN TO LIFE ON EARTH

And the observant tree dweller so cruelly besieged or so torn in adobe dust

contrite but ankle-deep in blood, up the hill of winged heaven

astride the dismantlement of the main dominant Babylon religion

mid-June until fall frost on her African violets to kill aphids and skinny frame garage

coiled green rubber globe, the cities contain stately lakes--

elms, small well-kept yards, the birdbath grape arbor,

golden horses on the roof, the great dome restaurants, muffler shops,

and some stopped by in loose white blouses and leaned down, holding their hair back

the brave little skyscraper of my stucco bungalow

the loneliness of blocks of furniture under majestic archways

Laced with purple rock floor after floor
sliding like a deck of cards into quiet dens
the tool shed arms rise in speech defending
the chestnut chest, the numb lips, the botched teeth,
the threatened headdress torn curtains on dawn
he dancing an air conditioner
he gone on spittle
he eating a radish of paper
stewing at the library of sounds
milking a vegetable Sunday
ice booth around the holy body garland
long rods to hold the leaves of books
petulantly in place.

Broken light at my back
bridges jumping arcs
flights popping at the neon orphanage
on the scratched mattress
and eating in the flash
a groundhog, a high unit
of fog.

Broken light at my back
pushing cars aside
dumping libraries into the sea
that I dive after,
coming up kissing the plow
for no reason.

Time was reeling after us,
we caught it sniggering,
we beat it into submission.

Big ceilings drip with animal heat.
Our stimulants are stirring their deliveries.
The burned-off tips of swift tongues coming back.
Posterior vibrato on the lap of a sandman.
Solar system's parking lot sighing from the cushions of dogs.
My spunk on her hot white teeth
we lie down thighbone to thighbone
and resuscitate the webbed manacles.
Tinfoil chimneys wheeze cursive avenues.
Potted pines gulp water and breathe mint curtains.
Waffle irons pattern the painted lips
and decorate the septum.

The drifting solid stream
the muscling green surrounds
huge upside down pyramid clouds
eyes in bronze lidless gaze
the taste of ten thousand year old honey
eyes in the sides of a rib less worm
tunneling landfill for heroic comics
building the frenzied networks higher
corners and girders a flicker with sounds of light
which is heat which is the sound of our breaking
our ears cast aside and our wrecked maybe
water picks up fallen eyelash
among other sweet debris
hills roll toward the ice cream parlor
nicked and bravely bleeding dancers
glass caged inside the telegenic brigade
the stream separates and separates
water keeps carving and
the observing life is tied to an aching monitor
bells twitch in the sea it goes to.

Her halo ropes the night close to my hurt ribs
brings the starved light closer to the vessels of the face in gear
wraps tape around the knuckles that might have fought for her
but hit wall after wall toweling the clay while still wet
with gashes and gills I make my way down to meet her
like a minister of rain, a hermit exploding in laughter,
she douses a fossil with her hair it erupts into a lawn chair
and dispenses the currency of the day
freely in the haze of smoke and doctored water.

Bushels of yanked veins
long concrete walks
geese radiant as smeared scars
padding along the earth.

Graffiti heart
whipped by curved winds
on the water tanks.
Paths carving plastic wheels
broken shells and seeds to tar
branches from the silent moon
scouring downward.

Fields glow at the edges of tarred earth.
Groupings of eyes burn from trunk to trunk,
stalk to stalk through the heights of multitude.
Broken trail ways encountering water.
Enchanted moss the light trickles through.
Stubs of smashed branches poking through the barrier.
Torn cloth at the soil's edge
for the root to trace emptiness.

Milk washed sun
sand washed mask
fingers over the map of stone
reading the plan of man
flickering off in rivulets
and volcanic circles.

Frozen crossroads pursued
by a tent dweller.
Wires to unbalanced ears
muffler cracking across reptile eyes
from three-pointed landings
windows whirling laundry and bang radiance
a park bench long as an aircraft carrier.

Hogchoker working and loafing, and the mountains somnolent green ice
looking down on rice terraces the swamps are drowsy the days wash away like dogsled beauty
our summers pass curtains of northern lights that dance and perpetual snow
the white rhinoceros lives along the tomb of the cliffs of an unknown cave
folk find shade where ornamental chain-link leant on my knees
aquatic ecosystems: the two main divisions broke up off the coast like dish soap

Land pierced by fallen bones
tables rising out of mud from scattered banquets
bronze flowers losing light in the stabbed sky.
Cracked tar in the eyes of a whipped runner.
Flopping flesh shedding sweat on the sand of ancestors
machines coasting out of their crushed heads
ripping the breeze.

Long tubes on pebble-covered roofs
thrumming with cataloged mystery.
Canyons of aluminum smearing coils of birth
with the assistance of the moon.
Weary of blood and sad work
the deserts and their scarecrows of water
come channeling soaked cities
to bury us clean and crack open hurt brains
singing to the broken blade

In this borrowed height
the view of shattered runways
traps the blood's wings.

Alleys of glass on bathed trees
that breathe sunbeams and ragged weather
sucking the green cushions of soil
with a strand prowling
denting the glow
cut through the stone apostles of thought
toward a gurgling river.

Combs float up to printed sand
settling in broken shells,
their raking empty
salt scoured and ornamental.

Leaf's underside eyelid
lakes blinking
body finger searching the soil
every pore on a thread
painted creases and steel black trash cans
pouring out of a mouth in the dunes
a window of sand woven into a thumb nail
a bouquet of signposts and smashed lights
clenched in the rolling rubber of a magnetic hand
flies smashed on webbed bright glass
wings frozen to the stem of a growing goblet
steel lids spinning where steam bursts and paints brick
with moldy water and the form mud
alleyways melt fingertips for knives
silk's arabesque caresses
milk humming between rocks
and oceanic holds
the rippled cells awoken.

Galaxy-wide blue walls marked by green doorways
slide show in the veins of hand
long legs concrete and sliding suds eyes
rooms pop in liquid buildings
neck gashes and cheek chewed give way to mouth
tremble to the scream of buckling restraints
in the faint tree top's smoking fingernails
daylight throttled by wheat's overabundance
shores tripled in light
well hung shadows walking
into the darkness of weed-filled water
a box of doors breaking open.

EAGLES GROW TO RAIN THE MECHANICS OF KINDLY STRANGERS

In air-conditioned cars, we wonder truly aroused,
lawlessness above and opposite fields and fishponds
scattered by the glorious particles
hybridized by the house of floribunda
glossy, bronze-green blooms, measuring bedding
coral-peach, double bloomer borne in tight clusters
the dimension of the panels on long perpendicular walls.

Baby bitten nipples that spring
to my nudge of tongue,
female hills and fences for me
to box and ass under,
ferns quickening around
the coil of blankets,
branches that drop
needles to leaves
and the wrecked car's eyes
broadcasting across
the great desk of the sea,
tie adjusted to the thought and speech
bubbles that make up
the day like ice.

Glitch in roses
twitching fibers to the sun spot
pipe limbs
aluminum-faced smoking stoic
current cold on open teeth
flowing rock and sticky stem
herb crushed to the path
glue gun pump dented bumper
pine harvest tops crawling leaves
ice connecting over printed flowers
tipped carts pouring cubes and cushions
kerchief tongue mugged and bumped
by slinky heat
sap for nipples to stick to fingertips
lizard glass in the air
off the road with swerving paint
into the elephant darkness
and the bunching sand.

The eye grows larger than space--it burns clothes.
There is no escape from its unsearching seeing.
The planet may burn, but consciousness--wants more consciousness.
This is how the body joins the eye.
This is how emptiness uses knowledge to eat.

When I became a stranger,
I saw the way those I'd loved look at one
whose mind has become troubled.
Void will disarm these gazes--
vein find bodiless places, and take heart.

Oceans call to home having no outlet
artichoke hearts in a trash can
totems of severed stacked heads
atop a toaster oven pyramid
long eyes in the sides of snakes
pillow house on a spike flagged dune
beauties wearing beard hats
strutting bars that are knife holders
melting windows to the way they lean
dressed up in falling trees
tattooed with chimneys
blinking rain from leaves

Ink-blocked walk through the old neighborhood
terrace boarded by pigeons
lace hoarded in baskets
piled on half-bleached cases
feathered hats' smashed pile in a corner
porch a crayon wall of cartons, lady
leaning over has a broken car
a leaning mailbox
a forgetful head.

It is summer in the place we smoke together.

Peach-splattered sourdough matrix baby
knocking around in the people computer
without a team of assisting bodies,
without a rug of spent tears,
with no interior bending,
a spent door chaser,
a long wire going mute across the satellites.

Transparent bag stacks of rejected food,
ant farm bogged in gasoline
sinking away from
the high totems of bagel.

Chlorine eyes out of the path half-dark
pushing a wet hand of signs,
sketching on wrists
what music springs from the spine,
rock walls on my eyebrows
her service provider
vacuuming salt from the tabled flesh
thinking bloated micro-macrocosm
from what erupts.

Tempests rise like daughters of mercy
through telephone tunnel halls
and balls of mercury rolled on the tongue
wood gleaming from the heart of the sun
falling through the technology of dust-mites
pushing wounds out of the walls
like a felt pen, galaxy
churning to plot its dark revival
revisit of dawn's province
on a hailstorm of wrecked chairs
rain dashed out like an emergency prayer
hugs and clasped hands air commas in the blear
and grasping the ransack of death
her active hologram celestial body
priced in prison errors
for the saint of asskicked man.

A mouth of quartz teeth
purple-blooded gums
mind embroidered by the blade of a shovel
looking out long windows at long parallel windows
wondering how he drowned so many hours and stayed afloat
one hand on a mud-buried mussel's shell
the other on a replica sun
sky's cloud fork filled with tongue meat
pine tops pulled by meteors flying
roots releasing river's shore
painted lots puff through sewer grates
and heat throws light to push water
over the desks of grass
button tablets of octopus pens

I guard these darkened halls
from a folding closet.
Light scatters across the planet
out of reach.
Chairs are set up in the mud
and left standing in droplets.
Polished leather marchers
stir the breeze
with fractured perfumes.
Screaming cleaners whack dust
from crucified carpets.
Long paths fall from the fresh eruption
and leak through the horizon's wheel.
Forests plastered with fake blood
falling under the sunrise.
Twisted stairs multiplying through
the atmosphere.
Nets of bone that don't break.
Sorrows pouring on the desert.
Ripples ping ponging
over the blended carnival.
And a fang, and a song for the earth.

Fresh milk sky
ghost in booming shoes
zig-zagging the upward path
in rock through the mountain
hands cupped for water
at a cleft in the rock
moss broken and cloud cut
flowing through the hollow gestures
investing a mighty wind
in the feeding mouth
and loins lingering
to search the shattered
doorway for a dance
legs juke and disposition wide open
for the fires of earth to hammer a cymbal with
straw bones and vacant eyes humming with space
a scarecrow for my own mirror
lipsticking testaments to a sand cave
running through hats and haircuts
wedded to a box of metal on rubber wheels
pursuing mercy with broken wings,
yet having flight in mind,
stuck to the frame I have carved and crafted
vibrating with gemstones and failed utopias
shop worn loves
and gloves left on the chopping block.

Wet rind on the branch broken so many times,
lightning-struck and re-mended,
puckering overripe orange seeded
mouth in the air, stirring the caves
of interrupted flour, an eclipsed season.

Dirt moving in tides across other dirt.
Bench and chair sleepers tight wads of grass.
Coins in the rectum of light.
Lifeless rompers.  Burnt helicopters
drifting down like grasshoppers
drafted by a child's lamp.

The tree's limb climbs the sand
in the water's sonic blitz.
A woman on the quick shore,
several birds flying out of her body.

The cloak the inevitable wears, and its closed lips.

On an iron shelf I keep myself
inside an ashen box.
Feeding circuits alert themselves
in far away ceilings.
Waves tick on and off
awash in rubble cities.
Friends and family are
picked away like lint.
The open floor calls to my hidden flight.
Courts stampeded by rubber people
glow prices to the sightless exits.
In this, our second dream, you
and I are trying on shoes
for broken bones, I am buying
you a haircut, you are nailing me
to a car.
We are watching lightning bugs
trace our surface with interruptions.
The woods are rocking our pulse.
Flakes and bark shards
and leaves came down
without partaking in error.
The warp and seepage of dirty births
strolling with your follicles like a fur coat
high on the darkened concrete
beaming a plan to my eyes.

Now I have my elk, my
pasqueflower
his meals with the uniformed peon laborers
to excavate brick walls from a legion of nomads
needlework across the face of the earth
of such figures to plod, pace, and toil into the imagination
grain; in Haiti, bananas; salt but the figure became an icon, a symbol
crushing loads of bizarre Pakistan; fish in Portugal sprouted a five-gallon drum
sleepy, intricate faraway early stories
straining their eyes
he posed her in autochromes.

Gelatin brothers
riders who purple down brick work of thieves
back doorway a steaming laundry
front bench two suicide chatterers
flopping on a trampoline to the mating switch.

Numbskulls who nevertheless cracked the dragon.
Brute errors broken in handiwork who clean desks.
Excreted screens for a sun's emperor.
Shopfront veins hosing rays of lamp gauze.
Dropping leaves bouncing eyes
to head lit carpets of pine needle patches
the sap of the fallen kiss tickling in shaded ices
a river's armor
the bullet-catching face
of infinite agitation.

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.