Lean hard on the blood moon hype
dagger man out of the sky for mountain fuck
sending eyes to the height of mold
through a massively annoying hyper dermis
in the bleached field of nerve kisses
where blunt cylinders rise as makers of extra
proud excess fevering out of train caves
knuckleheaded human activity filling the air
with busy neon languages in hot transit
playful fingers tweaking horrified oxygen
so that new orbs can descend
and break in the form of water
hacking the death of what's left
with its sweet non-insistence

Firs of autumn strike the mark
artificial dark of ponds
flaming with an underlight
and gone to the sought after dawn vagina
ages palpitated by madness

fishes in the sleeves of men
who wander in her orb of thoughts
to be forgiven for their torments of the cloth
and making stinks in catacombs of grease
to feed the geese a bit of bread from overhead

and heave its sweet collective gizzards to the breeze
in song of galaxy death
rushing bridges' street with portholes to worm intact
multiverse city to multiverse city
idiot eyes lighting up at the sight of a girl's

thickness through falling veins
and a wrung-out velveteen sidewalk
needle pulling to the center boom
the paint in an apartment room peeling
for a condom'd finger tracing toward broken brush

the song of a thrush trigger's mantle piece eyes

The workmen on a yellow girded roof
are scraping the sky, jack-hammering clouds
upside down, loins and hands throttled with sweet
futility, bricks pouring out of the vapor.
The clash of sky with sky
as a game of marbles shifts them closer
bends horizons deep to blades they held in check
when all our earths were separate, and God was hood.

Buildings that hate their own brick, pets on brain steroids
who have taken over households...ditches dug
by city-assigned workers flowering with colored worms.
Power lines taken down for use as sex toys.
The chilled and crumbling flash-frozen tundra
in a landscape of shadowed drones
where I hope for yogurt.

Fossils of new moons fitting neatly
into excavated canyon sides and valley vagina,
bones melted into flesh and becoming penile.
Years turned to pillars of salt in the position of the body.
The failed urchins of drugged concrete corners
munching wafers of vanilla substitute, eyes
stained charcoal black by an unguarded sun.

Toolboxes snap shut like instrument cases, spit
stains the experienced cement, garages
open robot beds, drills of hardened fauna,
screams of null time.
The muffled babymaking of the new slaves,
wings of the feathers that pay
by falling off
into valley hands.

BODY BLIND LOVE

Love this body down,
love this body under
thunder this body in thy veins

Give me body blind love, landscape
arrayed with secret warriors,
festering with real lightning.

Meekness departs from my being;
the scraping of breakfast cereal
ricochets to the thrill of my forehead.

BUCK

I rush a corncob over my fucked teeth
and think of laughter in hell.
My tall dick in your mouth.
The moving sky and its living
objects on the wing.
The afterbirth of eternity
scouring over our last thoughts.
The bridge top
where you finally tickle my airplane ticket
in an ecstatic moment of destiny
that ends on the cusp of a city-wide sink
and kisses down its canyon sides
in an avalanche of burning glory.

He places a dead moth on top of the live one.
On the motel door, wings under weight,
and for this alone he deserves to die
if one can deserve the inevitable.
The 2 moths separate into numbers.
The door opens, the door is his hand,
the redhead in the corner's bed opens
the eye of her mouth, says he is the only one
who feels, can find her with himself,
the drapes are thick with silver embroideries
and he is a moth man, her prince of dusty hands
who replaced life with a symbol of life, and then
entered.

Archipelago of suffering beauties
invested with diners of gauze
circulating through its waters
the strongest current of dumb love
the sheen of gasoline on a kissing face
the evolution of an interrupted error
an eruption avoided by our sad dispersal
awakenings perverted by madness
a charcoal kiss that removes the rot
fire of the ages built pyre upon pyre
on a human face.

<><><><><>

In the mirror I see fighting itself
woofing what's been given to a torn sky
fish features truck stopped in my loins
coins fountain that scumbag back at me
in godlike reminiscence.

Dig for the deep planetary eye
the gland of universe's birth
behind the prostate.

<><><><><>

Torn from the emptiness
a cell cries out
whimpering in error grand in truth
protesting forced existence for more existence

barren hills rise up from fallen hilltops
broken water is unfrozen in long long
streams to longer and longer oceans

where the pocket deep does not enslave
does not chafe in its mutation
glowering with light, not ready
to blow up the scarred remnants of the known world

until my body is kissed by flies
and my pecker's outline filled with sand
I reject the civilization implanted in my heart
and sip coffee from its dragon's udder

<><><><><>

First the flower-things fell off the wall,
the doze of elements broke through its entirety,
and the rimmed angels lay down
to evaporate with their master.

Second the seconds expanded to minute size,
prisms' beam unicorns off of the twilight,
takes a chunk of heat out of the universe,
heat with heat, to kill the teacher of logic
who lives in the snare of a gun, with a red bouquet
with the feigned innocence of thorns,
mother finally fucked for good
the cling of the hillsides, the clutch
of the touched moon.

<><><><><>

Our one torpedo moon, sheathed in dead silk,
unwinking, oblique: I blow you up in my mind.

And still you descend sideways to rend my planet-side
rib of ages unread cave scripted on the walls fossilized
bread that the ages never ate and so became the stilled
cityscapes of the tamed, viper morsels playing a grid's game
to be deranged into sameness; and the aimless
river that became the channel that we flow in, is overflowing
for the strength of the moon, gravity's mad placenta
of energy, colored by time to arc in sync with formlessness,
to shape the changing of an age by aiding its expansion,
I build a mansion on the torched expanse of a torched mansion.

And our moon expands its lasso, I'm a mouth-mushing
Progresso, painted in grease on the table, taking the cables
of my house apart compulsively, to set up a bunk in the wreck
of me, tides are the shape of me, a symphony charges my throat
an ampitheater openeth my ears, I bang tape cassettes on pianos
I manage the breakdown of the cosmos with my sphincter
and cosmic cock of ages, I spank sages this dick is free
and the moon's every imprint is imprinted upon me.

<><><><><>

My body hive
of the five stricken
elements for a sixth,
a stumbler wounding,
condition of blankness
corrupted.

Stacking wood
with a hard-on,
I play the don
of consequences,
sky eating
the eyes that are eating
the sky.

<><><><><>

Onstage at the tedium's fire,
held in wreckage that won't dissipate,
I know the core of the woods
is climaxing in its basements
of skunk fur.  Sticks break
over wells and scatter bark
on distilled waters.

<><><><><>

Ointment from the womb,
honey of mother.  Earth's cradle
spat out by volcanic matter.
Nourish the air, this vessel,
and the truth in all ways.
Keep from hiding a firm walk,
pock the sun with keen glasses,
fuck like a frog in a snowglobe city
bring heat to the unlit villages
hidden there in terror, stash fury
in the light of action,
gashed open by silver dictionaries
bleeding organic kisses in flunked rain.

<><><><><>

Preludes fall with kisses'
arrival, wet blanket of moon
attracted and senseless,
pocked and crossing,
fallen heads of march
empty acorn eyes
graveyard wet and giving moss light.

<><><><><>

The garlic bites the underside of my tongue,
the trees rise up, green buds are sky-size,
lake's river flows, flows through my soul complete
to its river's entrance, and takes from
all the foliage reflection
a spark of space.

<><><><><>

Sash on the floor the long way of looking
the eye of the whole body
floating at death, tauntingly, bridgeless
for the chasm which demands it,
ascending to the core, the janitor's closet
at the heart of the sun, with the door
left standing open.  And her future mouth.

<><><><><>

Punk deep river flowed reddish rounded hills
asymmetrical table and laminated water--warlords, sponsors of the chaos
a thousand feet long with walls boiling on paper
the queen eats them and I had to illustrate her whacking it into shape

<><><><><>

Radiant and cool mountains, well-balanced trees,
a breeze from the rift in the rock where
the earth was broken and now channels
a descending wind, light manufactures dusk
in the pools of shade under the pine,
spring's work through mineral and moss
cupped hands at the chilled nexus
where sky breaks on the river
computer children rappel from burning forests
spiked heels in sap and squirrels of blood
with knives like ends of dream in teeth.

<><><><><>

River alive with scum child
river alive in a last gleaming
river alive for my flesh alive is a river
river alive with morsels of pigment
of which I am a definite particle
also dying, in an airport with a bucket
of fish and mop water mixed
meal fallen and bleached
gun in the mouth gun in the mouth
such excitement!  A full tub!
Morsels for me in the excrement!
In the here ever after!  In the next
movie!  Time to die, fuck!  Yeah,
morsel.  My rage puts the paws to my hands,
I soften under claws.  Islands rise up
in the dark like tears.  My helpless anger
wears a bed like a bonnet
and eats the air from a mirror horizon
like a pork mouth of dawn.
The parking lots open like old sores,
heat's rain of shit and hate glowers down
like a shrub, like an infant.