They have carved out

a place in my spirit

with their numbers

where we go to fall.

Trunks leaning rip ribbons of tar

every hair of the kingdom

a satellite mirror

plowing through the stratosphere.

Cabin's wax light on the crest

the kiss without gravity

remembered in a torn arm chair.

Steady bones in a trash bag

flesh flexing in a circular machine

the paint peel high horizon

glittering through blades

scraping a path in the air

seated in the levitating copter

steel rinds for eyes

prints of angelic orifice

descending on a deep rubber wall

a howling in the mailbox

clouds clustering an antique moan

souls crashing out of the bread bag

aisles razor thin

droids rendering a synthesis

of proud obedience

to the recognizing lash

lush yield of a treadmill

frolicking blood

its mush container

bronze afterthought belatedly gone.

Past the drape of purple clouds

purposeless drift of time

icons eroding in movement

the sand grains pinching jewels

fire jumping hoops

on the stuck horizon

days that have had enough

falling off the calendar

shoreline's rail of lights

following a gap in the hills

parchments discarded

to an unchained winter

a face in rain

lost to the imprisoned glimmer

a green tunnel

up to the theater's womb.

Eyes full of mercury glinting

from the wall of the dead.

Windows of a freight that howls.

Shadow of a sun that crushed the earth.

Strings of metal buffeting

the shell of a neighborhood.

A doorway that visits

the electric ground.

Here comes the smile of rock and wood.

Here comes the machine of spirit's expulsion

with soul to spare.

Walls along the bones that fell

blooms of broken stone

thorn of the mouth gone quiet

in a screen of times tagged

spreading over dark waters

with a sneer of knives.

Depths carving with their fire

a pig's head in flowers,

a drilling stare

from the rift in conscious rock.

The frill of a sinking assassin

one cell tapped out in fragrant ooze.

Red stones on the curve of a cliff's lip

doubling souls in the seam

between underground mountains

the starfish mouthing neon

from a pyramid's cage

panes of the palace windows

glinting from a green fettered hill.

Cold wings of an unspoken vertebrae.

Staring lung of an open wound.

Pillow's breath in the crook

of the jagged lightning

outlook falling with the open moon.

For your feminine claw

flick over me in a sunbeam,

eat my incorporated substance

from the comb of a crushed city.

Mirror where I bleached my hands.

Wire lurking in the flower

that peaks from a shaded room.

Cave dweller with angel wings

surging through brown earth.

A high platform

with a glowing chair

the prize of the lashing clouds

an electric dawn

descending down a toilet bowl.

Moss upon the sun

pricked soil breaking open

a ring of tongues

doused in novocaine.

Arms toiling through dimensional spray

a tank of stomach lining

overturning a tinfoil street

poles rising from the broken crust

one melted numeral

blooming into myriad fleshpots

a lunar scimitar

carved into the tower of scrolls.

Paths in the wind

pushing steam and berry bushes

lashed words and storm eaten papers

a ship of wood glue crashing into a mirror

one furious pair of eyes

in a grid iron graph.

Fires leaping from the bones that wept

a chair of gems

ripping the cloak of skin

a highway gathering robes of rivers

coiling against the planetary shield

and writing cursive lines.

Clouds that drink blood

an infinite airless floor.

Big crow limping in a parking lot

scraps to feed his wounded wings

lopsided feet on frost

the rainbows of oil collapsing

between chrome traffic

mountainsides far from his reach

blinking snow from a chain of eyes

glazing solid lakes

he pecks away the shadow

of sugary crumbs

and matches to the tar

a skeleton of glass harps

and buried antenna

going to the unreachable

kingdom of caves

and the severed peak.

Riding with the brothers of an error

skies of upside down birches

are good enough

a rabbit on piano

thumping pedals

as the pine needles fall.

Until the shape comes

lets us wander over the dead

and among the living

counting for the searcher's eyes.

Make my infinity

fit into a single glass

may I find the table

watch the squid's ink

fade across these flickering screens

clouds where I parked my car

and left an open door beaming.

Up on the glacier's peak

that brought a valley

to a mountain's steam

reaming out the angel

I remembered rivers

and times of nudity

from prior chandeliers

raining and reflecting hot dreams

in the whirlwind of your persona

from the leering of public announcements

punch yourself in the face

with your own blood.

Unite these hollow frequencies in terror

scrape the willing bone

and be broken.  Tear out

the sprig flowering

of the sap of the grave

and drink the granite bank.

Sever your lexicon's cage

from my senses and wings

I will blow up between dancers

retreat to an infinite wall.

Pillars and waves passing

shores of love and grimy outlets

hot lit factories

bridges lashed to a high arc

and clucking fountain

seeds leaping through mercury

as the glowing antlers ride the blade

as the path widens to the living flowers

staples of wheat go through to the head

light denied knocks around

in labyrinthine pipes

and suffocates in dawn.

Zeroes peering through a naked door

solemn whores waxing

heights of stricken wonder

where the sun finds a stone disc

the eclipse of green arms

that fall against one another

engines puffing in the warp of time

standing in an empty office

with the ripped off sky

contemplating the glare of the window

and its mirages

watching the quiet seed

drown in the hum

and the bronze lips falter

if December would come on an ax blade

if the realm was a filter

still I would chug from the echo's thorn

and crouch to be born.

Ferns around the fallen zombie

who keeps a record flapping

in a solemn crease

glow green spray through a red horizon

bring the socket home to the bone

with a thunk in moss

a bulge at the rounded window

where gas burns in plastic.

Screens of a ragged wall

flashing numb heroics.

A sun spot sucking in

the vagrant letters.

Newsprint bandages

of the mummy who walks

in salt.

Conference of ruined faces

chewing at the same cheese

flicking a predetermined flame.

When we were walking the web

and the stuck strings popped in vibration

sky's clasp of grey cleft

ferreting out the shiny rocks

paths travelling the spoon's neck

green gash hereafter

stone teeth surrounded by berry bushes

lone blinking atom.

Machine wings beating the dawn cathedral

lines of the eternally waiting

a rounded curb bleeding blood tar flowers

sails that strike the sun

and resound in eighteen wheeled rectangles

undersea acres through bucket pools.

Cones humming tunes of that time

glass roof of the airport

where the blank translucence takes off

and forms a blade fiber

tugging skeletal smiles.

A green and grey highway

stretching between

the rails that break off

where the forest munches closer

to the pale line in space

and on the deck wounded

pacing time

I relinquish my golden painted body

and its black beard

I watch the gears in a waterfall

and mirages

only for the speaking voice

the fond error of man

to be found in key

for locks outside formation

let the vines rattle

and the shoe's rubber glisten

to silent tar

soothing over fountains

one lamp in a factory parking lot

tapping at a flock of wings

one resounding pepper

or warped set of cymbals

in our gas cocoon

sell me a number of leaves

paper that rides a river

and the roots talking

moon roll go me a solid stone

dice up the dreams

lay the eyes in feathers on a hood

purr me up to the landing

ladle him into the matrix

who leaves me in mineral waiting.

When wishes were kept in stone

and the lone bird wobbled

we left a bathrobe chain

linked throughout our labyrinth rooms

like a blueberry headband.

Floating from circuit to circuit

the distant sun darted

shores rippling far

in the refurbished frame.

Houses living for departed faces

rusted tanks in the woods and wells

life vest bobbing in glass

from the rings of an altar

form's flute for the naked smoke.

Up above the trembling hedges

in the fork of crossed things

the map of twisted worlds

longing to break the bright threshold

blindly painting a door

fangs and knives and their sisters

webs of cooling or sizzling death

the shape of sleep that slithers

coiling in a corner

weaving a bronze wig

snuffed sparks of a frozen suit

days that twilight does not depart from

scrubbing and raising an idol

on fettered grass

the rows of mirrored lockers.

Platforms teeming

with wayward beasts,

the vines that dangle

saucy flowers,

ascending to oblivion's

favorite hatch.

Merciless fibers

of nonexistence

clawing at the foil of the hull

that blinks in fractured space.

An eye that looks out

wanting teeth.

Furs whipping around

the void mouth

in the hollow background

stirring the wrath of creation

from an empty cup.