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.