A shell of broken human soul,

a quiet sighing animal, a song,

a torch to watch the hours by

while darkness surges with necessity,

the drums are touched by rain,

the quaking veins are joined on canvas,

joyous tongues arrive with stinging sleet,

the stone winks, I derive from

ancient spirits who incite my awe,

the giant climax of unfolded skies

pours down riveted artificial hills,

the genius of these sad days

remains untouchable and true,

you who have wounded me have also

lifted me up, I care for the midnight teeth

of spanked alien spawn,

the fissure of a granite wall

siphons black red blood,

the sun cools, the moon bursts

into feathers of magnetic dust,

the wheel purrs with living salt,

the names of souls are called,

the bodies fall away

from remembered laughter,

the incompletion is the arc's way home.

The spreading egg of solar system

untying brain from bloodless speculation,

cool units of abstract sound

colliding with floating ears,

the afro of the sun

frying my ectoplasm of echoes,

shorelines touched by lipstick fire

washing over fallen gravestones

and tongues of moss,

frost handled by seeking rays,

stone benches for dreaming bones,

bleached oars left along the vine

of some solitary voyage,

open pathways to the blue hum

of electrically evolving stars

the feather weight of worlds

and all their dancing girls.

U.S.A.

America: once a slave ship,

always a slave ship.

I write your obituary,

motherfucker.

Fuck you into the dust

from which you came.

Abomination of metastasized ambitions,

the fiend with a thousand arms.

Fuck your corny religion,

your stupid songs.

You came too late

and you stayed too long.

New humane angles

in the expanded prison.

New portholes into hell

for pastors and other leaders

to jack off into.

You have made my bone marrow

into a disgusting fucking cartoon.

You have raped my soul

with your lewd, repetitious chanting.

Your advertisements are your reality,

but not in the way you think.

Your crude, drooling vampirism

defines you.

Stay the fuck away from my altar.

Your offerings are putrid,

your prizes are beneath

a poisoned animal's shit.

I live my life as an imaginary being.

Let the gray light fill the room

and paint the corners with waking sleep.

Let the birds gather around

seed-stirred puddles, let the mysterious

chemicals of life rise from around metallic roots,

zones beneath neon giving birth to painted fruit.

May the morning without alarm

bloom over smoky balconies

in the river of a new bohemia,

even in lanes of glass gliding

past my staring eyes in stasis

we do this in remembrance of battered maps

improved with intricate bundles

of ink that the divine fumbled

and gave back to dark matter waterfall

words like limbs are signaling

tongue's heat to the silent veil

nine planets in the path of a snail.

The spider walks my brain

with icicle limbs.

The ground swims.

Stalks go up with descending

bark of leaves, seeds of a different

shadow.  The cryptic nature

of crows, the scent of

burning leather.

Steel wheels on a velvet landscape

long vacant fences.

Turns in gardened alleys that

open up into the sky.

New light on the old burdens,

gathered sparrows following

the uninterrupted omega,

coffins talking to scattered coins,

mercenary soundwaves,

sciences of sex

encouraging torpedoes and bronze

fortresses of stacked meat,

pallets lavished with enchantresses

unruly silence

black clouded word.

Long teeth dripping from a meek mouth

living sinews desperate on concrete

rivers siphoned up into a spaceship

the shapes of sculptured shit

lactating in unmixed paint.

Forked entities with no heads

the scum of painted highways

grid walls of bisected insects

flesh blasted from broadcasting wheels

a cloud of floating skulls

wafting through an open galaxy

as the particles of hot divine substance

are flushed through ungrateful channels

and sprayed upon an ornate clock.

THE DEITY

Even as I create I am disappearing.

I spend myself on a world that rarely cares.

Weighed down with sacks of cast-offs,

spinning them all into threads

of blood-streaked gold.

Folded realms that speak only to me,

faint spirits in poison dust,

avoiding the telescopes.

Ropes of ectoplasm jutting

from ecstatic wounds.

Slabs of some discarded frozen magma

tree rings in vampiric flesh

exposed by blades and spicy vapor

paths deep in the park

that riots past midnight

glint of hooves fleet as the wind

touched by the embers

long slate fields

with acres of evaporating water

branches fallen on a stage lit

imitation moon.

I was addicted to some climactic vision

but the truth is in the wearing away,

the wearing away.  Diminishment.

A popped boil of the species

and its centerless limbs.

Look away from the annihilating wall.

Believe the erasing banner.

Still the loneliness of death calls

not like a dog or a wolf

but like a descending dove diving

in hunger to coast the fertile surface

a prophet with a sealed tongue

driving veins through sand.

I'm thinking about Iggy Pop tapes

thinking about armchair sex

at the dawn window and the end of an era

as the bottle fell faintly

from a failing hand

and the upholstery of memory

tore for a spiritual riot,

a mist of light purging

mannered speech from hammered air.

I'm remembering a moss covered ditch

with blueberries on each side

and the buzzing night gone white

through afternoon with its presence

all arrayed too soon.

The weight of nut-strewn acres

gray light of the cloaked high sun

the bone is a dismal dynamo

hot blood pumping threads

through the earth

in synergistic coils

kinetic clay of ears

formed up from bedrock death

frame cashed of the outlaw giver

bringing seeds like grains of sand

new rain from an ancient hand.

I have been beaten down

into the roots of this place.

I rise when the sap rises.

The blades of furniture

that crowd the shaded floor

were carved by aching hands.

The severed noose I wear

becomes a sacrament.

The ribs open like a bird's wings

from my half butchered instrument.

The ground divided by my feet

has lips like a curling mountain.

I unfurl as a flag of kingdoms gone

and fall down to become a fountain.

They pass their demons to me

and I pass mine back to them.

Colors of delight and fire

fly between our crooked fingers

themes of spines adjusted

through unstructured fields of space.

Strategies of angels

falling through volcanic mouths.

Dice bouncing on the frozen bridge

that leads under the highest tower,

a laser focusing to burn.

The head gear in the grid

turning rust to oil

resembling the divine stem

trembling to meet a clay urn

with water's yearning.

The princess standing on a massive turd.

Frozen excrement expanding in the streets

as we decorate our footprints.

Mania sprayed from mechanical clouds

emerging as empty thought.

Manufactured inertia running out to nowhere

walls paved with corporate religious digitech

drowning in a sea of rotten eyes

that only look down.

Seek through the wrecked fast food cathedrals

the forgotten knowledge

of the first painter's cave

and spirit's pigmentation,

of the monk's beard and the witch's pussy

meeting to crush away

the hasty grids of the enforced unreal

and the shit feeders who sleep

in its cursed android embraces.

We are each other's nightmares.

Worse and worse sequels.

Tongues bitten off faintly tasting

each other in a curdled vat.

Belated reversion to corrupted norms

singing in a fried wire

untraceable ghosts

decaying flesh with fresh

identity cards.

Biological imprisonment

making a joke of the soul.

Let the gash stare back

at the regretful knife

allow the blood to play

on these painted floors.

May the cells rise like the snores

of sleeping gods

who die in bed

dryly choking.

Hollow vines grow through

my body screaming

skulls of glue and glitter

cardboard cut out shadows

set against a gigantic wall

blades dancing in a blueprint cloud

the height of branches reaching

ethereal green to gobble

the blood from an unspent sky

Calendar pages have tastebud eyes

each blank runway

to a hidden cracked horizon

spreads its tendrils in an ocean mirror

wires with words in coils

each heated cone in its embroidered forest

every glass warped box thicket

trembling high in snowcloud lace

each botched flesh stapled reminder

every tight foot printed cube.

Yards of elastic teeth,

frayed ropes of glitter painted tinsel

fences folded up in boxes

wells blinking underground

in the canvas of night

for eyes and tongues that seek

from the sight of sleep.

November's gone to the hacked marrow

of last December's last moon,

skies of raging ruin

for stacked mammals,

fireworks from garbage can mouths

in the furrows of a bankrupt south.

Patios adrift in orchards

searchlight cartoons, friends of an enemy,

stretching to meet the locus

of the divine locater,

willows gone to reeds

hewn ragged on the hollow breeze.

Petals fallen stick to tar

from a lilac massacre

a meteor of melting sugar

stacks of bent car frames

swaying squeaking in the backyard

shocked rings of radiant stones

around the rhythm of a planet whirlpool

Strangers of my life, all

floating downstream

from the echo's land

that launched bright blood creation,

bone's cloak of burning sex

If favorite alleyways could

cut up the night and prevent it

from ending, if pine needles

could negotiate with a shaken branch,

if puddles frozen could enter

my bedscape from a careless dream

Maybe the beams of sound

are ever reaching,

maybe the road will flick like a tail

away these dead skin cells

and crawling light

to a faster track inhaling zero,

hands that touch electric trails

come to make up a sand hero.