THE ACID BATH FAT MAN DOME SCANDAL

Clear the fact that he roared found the pools she was his goddess with three bullets in him;
green and the publicity of a divorce action which caused the sloughing off of shards as blowing sand,
white early morning scattered at the base blood tinged bright or dark red
skin test tenacious with obtaining a history or stretchers exiting an elevator
air hunger the cabin door service for petty thieving fremitus, thrills, heaves

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Streets damp with the energy of a gone sky
imprinted with a chant of feet
guarded by sharp singing copper
barbed to tumble an old music chart
winging and flanging its punctured drum heads
creature built up by a rain of ceiling wires
cutting itself down to wax stalactite
standing with grin of charcoal
in the sweetheart wreath's valentine
dead center of the death squad, pulsing with gravity

THE DESTRUCTION OF THIS HEAVEN

The legend of the dog, the headless woman, a sex-crazed monster
         the seven bowl judgements contrived, the mechanical deodorant powders
                  scribble the name when an angel is used for stool pigeon
                     and the plow boy whose sister died eight miles above upper-level tropical winds
                       gloves which she had strangled and savagely mutilated
                            blithe bulletproof nightclubs of the old regime
                               be talking very sweetly to her views the lips from end to end
        he guided her on to an electric pink, moist, symmetrical, and smooth discharge

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I'm a fat blood hamster
hiding in the night
blonde bloodstain anus and faceless
inhabiting wretchedness under the ferns
impersonating myself fellating the roots of the goddess tree
to be smitten through by immaculate media nature
a thousand times before breakfast
which is dreamed in glass clouds
nudged mailbox side in the dreaming mirror flag
from which to derive thy blindness
moving to the trunk of the tree
I smile as much as wither
its grace graceless as winter
is how she moves the technology of summer
into high and idle drives
where my skull waits to be filled with small beds

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Plastic surgery constantly bathed in saliva
head through the grill of his cell knelled and unknown
force directed the formation of carbon like a dog in an ambush
plug-ugly yellow rat glamorous outwitting the drab minions of the law
the thick, guttural gangster myth never resorting to violence
public enemy number one to the crystal lattice

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I am both weak and strong.
I can throw the elephant over a wall,
and I always forget.


In the mills, in the hells,
in the abattoir I hold sway,
among the shoe minerals.


You can fuck me with death,
you can kill me with song,
but you cannot make me remain,
thus you cannot make me remember you.


The hand's map is written in a forest tangle.
The foot's curve
these voiceprints can be pioneer launch pads
one of which is a metal tool, the voiceprint.

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You ruby-crowned kinglets drinking fluoride ministry to the edge of a cliff
spiritual leaders, or certainly their successors,
because of your beauty, your corrupted splendor fulfilled in your hearing
heart: I will ascend into the holy mountain of filth and squalor
in the sides of the heights of the cloud synagogue
the proofs of the divine dean of prophecy captive in bondage
drugged leaves of paper dumped in there mellow mysterio scraped

JUGS OF PISS

My realest friend's death has made me a stranger to this life, left
a scorned life inside of me, agitating for truth, and for death's truth.
People can see that kind of thing blindly.
This landscape inside vault doors
is the fine-tuned result of a scorched-earth policy.
The pawns flow with milk from their heads.
The kings and queens spin in the milk brilliantly.
I am a pale pariah, half self cast out, china bull,
a man with the habits of a tormented squirrel.
The ant socialites range around me with their anti-sexes,
hyenas trying to graze on ice cream beautifully.
Their life-outsider structure is a dead language
that tempts the air's hunger for experience
to collapse like a star.  Slowly pistils descend into stamens.
Yellow is proclaimed shapely by the computer-led vegetation.
Earth is corrupted by cleanliness.  My species sucks a bowel-train
of remorse and mercy out of my tail cavity.

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A great sex toy is, she's on tape and obscene phone can whack off in your ear
   I measure my first line and mark it with a chalk line a tracing wheel and waxy
           then reel out the tape from the supply reel and hook it into carbon paper
               sweeping away existing working relationships joyfully fucking everyone
                                      relate to future things which against the pointlessness
                                 all booty had long since been homes and venerated as a saint jewel
                             only to be drowned in blood by wearing a golden diadem, with golden filaments
                        the hounds in hot loud echoes from the shaken boughs; lay dead above her eggs
                the incubating female


                   ascends these canyons, swallowing all her young's excrement, and in a haunted corner
                                   a large black dog scuttled past as lost in the darkening woods.

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Utterance as rock after rock led a peaceful and uneventful life
to the beginning of the universe to see the colour and substance of his money
this small patch of sky which made the embedded star in brightness and structure
onto the watch after it had been the monsters and the heartless ones vault and helped
a card-carrying limp-wrister two hot-twatted hookers
heat-loss mechanisms learning how to monitor their own heart rates


A bright blue border lies in chemical equations as a very large window
systems are sad the capital feasted, rioted, drank
the stairs are mad with joy for sex comedy
curriculum from weaponry completely wiped away gold
red hieroglyphic inscription of his crimes; every cum-drenched
fellatrix in the drab, scrubland valley

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Both matrix and crystals, and the new bone work
with the grain of wood along the oil molecules
water with a pinch of lemon crushed to death
under the slum of brothels and factories
blistered neck and shoulders the tarnish on the silver fork
is silver unchanged on both sides
the cooled molten salt in structure, function,
and color to make a grid masking
between the timing of sleep and what is inside the atom center
holistic chrome-plated toaster
with white due to dynamite dressed in their gold
cabs clattered by on the strip of canvas flapping the dim gaslight
spectrum like the sun tense blue of the river
like a rose through the wall in this joint

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Nihilist and criminal in the city hiding place glazing one of the sledges
palace the police had started
the girl's naked body on a bonfire in the liquid state criss-crossed his face
which bulges from the back of a conventional TV quickly
her jewelry grains of poison the charge of the tin the shattered body
men of violence who could no longer form words
suddenly burst in on her with the usual display of courtesies
stereo power mounted to lose eleven electrons black plastic grilles
a bloody, writhing mound of raw flesh gas, a silver atom

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Claimed for this life, by an essential accident.
Tapering off beautifully, thank you.
The vicious weapon of my body punishes the water, is a joke.
Radiance of sprung days flashing off into the future blank.
The emptied horizon is a lightning bolt.
Wet floorboards give way to trees.
Fireplace walls give way to mountain rocks.
Drawers of zeroes remain packed tight on their nothingness.
Drawers of ones remain lined up neatly with one another,
stabbing nothing with their nothingness.
Oaks mount elms to heaven after heaven after heaven.

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I know that I am a pool of snakes and you are a pool of snakes too.
I know that rebellion incarnate conspires against me to steal my life.
I kneel by the river and spike the electric.
I know the flag post is melting in the deep background.
To develop a scene, I stagger into the green envelope.
A warrior in a sundress tears my stomach, my heart.
The blocks of wood that mark the event of the tree's destruction
lie around me like murk, in their definition.

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Because they exist and I do not
all night I can feel the police
under my skin, where the mechanism
and its international cousins perk up


streets darkened with water
hills over the river beaming a last snow
dashed factories a huge open window
the machine work of light


a face, a hand, an opening--


Darkness of flesh, darkness of disorder
these buds were never meant to be opened.
And so our climax is death:
our destiny is death, and in its climate raging
                                            is more death


Never to understand the darkness or be with the light:
wings must extend from this.


Summer flesh slender and bright
with ejected life, awareness to the edge
beauty breathing kite limbs
pin me to moss fertile wreathing

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Pierced resonance, that cries to me an amp
    in my left ear.  The noise-remainder
     of outskirt melodies, frothing seconds.
        Necks of demonic souls broken
          over a guitar wire, the throat
         in its own thicket.

  Pierced resonance, which won't revisit
         this cavity.  These tangled spirit bottles and cords
            begging for more restlessness,
                               nano-revolutions
in the space of an eye mirror, the tangible
  fox's tongue, diamond cutting
     and softly eating.

The gelatin of spent days her dwarf enablers
   nibbling in caverns
 where beaming an envelope calendar
   bright rifts crumble overhead.

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They are sadists with love pills at the office
the fraternity of torture raging smoking in bed
this awakened life-force writing chemical names and formulas
a ring of red stars and a disk of molar-incisor bone


A full set of raised side rails along the base of doors
price those fears now and when I wave my handkerchief tool chests, cabinets might escape
in an inferno of scandal for the breezy kid in the tight sweater
queen smooth young gigolo hoodlum
you will know that the carriage is coming complete with three keys

DEATH OF A LIEUTENANT SEX MURDERER

Pockets of air, called cells, be beaten by girls dressed in black leather two gasoline molecules
hundred-thousand-dollar operators from rape trying to teach computers
garment worker climbing to greatness slid between her own ribs a crystal of sodium chloride
of electricity by the pickle grip with a stylish slot the bull wheel from chrome reverse all
seize power through an earlier marriage to the names of fanatics who have cared
fire raisers famous for their sexual depravities their delight in torturing the help from a spacecraft checkered stadium cushion.

WITCHCRAFT MAGNOLIA

Father of the future, there will have to be war ended; the jazz and rubber pants
drawn by a steel cable into a homing-cone--a society woman
underworld man plumes whipped up by the fierce wind minimalist works
hard-bitten pioneers who opened up flesh of their dead friends and comrades
blank expression My blood, my blood vodka and jiving to juke flight
rubbing against the neighbors' antenna always asking people that I use for decorating
to adhere to hideous green light snaking down from above
a kitten on her wooden cat door was a drug addict
the vinegar helps its mouth foamed with steaming saliva paint the ice-axe

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A liquid diamond in the pierced forehead,
winking expensively at death.
The thousands running on bare feet across
public highways.  No purpose,
now that you've had your hour in my codpiece,
for you to stick around and watch me torch the country,
the mythology of time,
the lies that run frantic in flesh,
and the errors of silence.
You are my agony, that cannot cry,
the irritating poise of the moon.
A doorbell crying on a dinner table
where eyes and bellies roll, but no mind moves.
Find me in the groove of the wax table, I am an ant's navel,
cold gazing at the train that ran over what it gave in me.