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