Trees are terraforming with roots
plumbing the dark soil and deep soil
to start a new world every day
here she comes with a smile for starch
overwhelming the trashed scenery
with hips, apple prizes in the face,
lips and lazily muscular, thighs.

Zones of evaporated milk
flung through the ribs by an eyes's
distance.  Remnants of salt world
on the tip-tongue of blossoming spores
tasting with the body
retching with the body the old world

Born under the eye of the enemy,
afraid to run.
Afraid to run.
Born with the enemy watching.
They update themselves
every now and again.

They have a cleanly way
about them.  They update
themselves again and again.
Making the fabric burn
dancing and pointing at the flames
heroes in their neighborhoods
with time for dissecting whimsy.

Frivolous devil with time to disfigure
I have become your twin.
You've even begun to speak like me.
We inhabit each other's shade
in the corporate sunlight
where we polish ruin and ruin is shut off

Born under the eye of the enemy--you,
mother-raper, de-sweetener of tombs
and fire ceremony, devil eyes in the camp,
die.  And be reborn under your own gaze.
Learn the air behind the mirror.

In the corn of corn self
fields grown ladies to sculpted forests of static
backdrop, green tears from the heart
of an overused sun, eye wearied
orange by too much seeing.

Blowing radios into molten flower
announcements of death universal in music
touching rented roofs with
urgency of umbrella'd voice,
pushing green housed roof off,
lavender breathing through hands
milleniums of expressive torso
tilted offices of man sliding and
draining from broken windows
karate females wheel a stewardesses' cart
through a parking garage
world's empty pocket
flipped by a single string

The whole carpet of earth
torn up, units of light dissolved
into cold, warrior deprived
by a world without mission

riding the ferris wheel with drunk
abandon in his buttocks, searching
treetops and machines for the popcorn heart,
anime mouth ecstatic that burps and winks the sun
pouring sweet spit on the drum skin
open fields of tar mouthing plumes
of pink whistling smoke blowgun swamp
forest stripped and steaming
chipped stalks interrupting peak time
rooms ache to feedback walls in silver flower
drooled inkwell of desk erection dream
strobed cliffs melt an archway
fallen hands of time follow the green

light through: salt water licking
silently otherside of a force field
fold-up chairs on fire slanted forward
the empty throne of heaven reflecting
gartered legs spread down behind the descending
threshold, low golden inter dimensional bed
where the poor make love between
a phantom savior's series of soft clefts,
fanged butterfly lips, take my blue, my mountain
memory into your narrowed vastness.

Whatever else is fiddle, my Earth
comes to meet the arc
of what I am sculpted
meld spirit with body brain
clay is always falling, this scepter island
will bobble on the static of
a world hunkering backward into speech.

Open telepath mind, universal swoop
of endless hunger
reaching the totems of finality
passing into perfect darkness
colored and re-colored with
the touch of reality's blood
fallen from the trunk of
high-reaching souls,
speaking to be recorded
and not felt.  Imprisoned
in the belly of this legal talk,
scythed hack of matter.

The border's twerked on circuitry
of power, goddess tree humming with amps
melody is a buzz in the daisy bright chain
encircling a campfire
guns melted on the hearth
and bronzing back at the sun
its bullet error of man.

Mask nested with vapors,
pouring out of purity's breakage
in high walls that stood on the mind
scales of fury, long strands of volume in eyes
magic carpet over the vacuum
pissing.

Snails flow on the neck
of the deflowered statue.
Spears of fence head shopping bag
around the galaxy bulbs
an original kink in the fabric
that keeps grabbing and grabbing
for the laughter of descendants
and the thrill of the banquet
in heart and belly
dissolving all holds on her swerve

planned and unplanned totalities of love and the spread of
phallus-headed unicorns
re-selling a holy gait vaguely toward
the future, where kisses hiss shut into the air
and trains go backward in the carelessness
your gloved march left undone,
sons of it's gleaming
less of the taint with your error,
criminal souls, impartial as crows
discussing nature, narrow tongues
god-wide minds pointedly hot
taking part in the madness of the passing hours,
neglecting the path of forgetfulness
stolid in numbers trapped
volcanoes in thought built up

will reap able and treacherously beneficent children,
the multi-path'd with full hooves split on sky
happily tucked like a pie
sled on the museum you opened in my head
by landing on me.

Noon passes on a slope, feminine bi
cycles pass liquidly in flippant schism
the frothing of the last volcano's mouth
forking gardened hillside with rock
pathways for gawking lizards
in perfected human attire;
there are beings like us
in other worlds, devouring
their way towards us right now.

Following jagged footprints
on a dung heap, twiddling antennae,
to find the sun's tractor beam,
the lost features of the moon
and the called of silence
to be filled with minerals
in endless tide, abstractedly
worshiping.  Mouths hung
on the choir's clothesline
of rhythmic existence,
a song of houses blocked by rain,
pizza on rain-tables
napkins peppered by
lipstick grams, pyramids
of eyelids stacked and stacked
to the hot treetops.

Radiant plush that fades
the eyes back into the teeth,
the voice back into the neck,
the neck back into the ass...

Furry light, that opens
a morsel in the blood,
a tangled pour,
crystallized volcano of effort
prism led to court of dead owls,
miceless claws of the judgmental dead.

Dashed slobber of mutuality,
why are you calling me
back through cloud factories
to be mercilessly painted by eyes?

Many-mirrored flutter, parallelograms
of copulation squeezing treadmills
free of daisies, many-pharoah'd tombs
bursting with rice salt honey vulvaic stimulaters
body-spiders friend from the gone age
an ember in her waistband
as I pass myself meeting her.

Tug of cumulus on the bloodstream.
Shat fences pull up from dregs.
Fiddle of washed-out frog mouths
in the tubs of collapsed immunity.
Flung to it like vegetable, a pursed
triangle for mouth's radio dial,
enemy savior, Freya, toasted imitator.
Your grains in the prints of my fanged sand.

Pointed away from the source of light, the curved cornea grow
on low vines and softened gelatin
its gilded dome topped by a statue
stigmatized by the props of four other dancers
a picture window loosened around the plants beneath the outer scales
pods as bush and pole promiscuous as alley cats
called seed-making hips in the strawberry patch
and burgundy snakes adorn her christmas wish stars as campfire badges
chasing and trying to eat rain onto the living room floor;
we nursed and rocked, we sang together.

Blocks of velvet alternated with solid crystals
babyhood wrapped in teeth and hair
handprints and footprints made numerous people and scenes assemble
each one with a coat of decoupage embroidered.

The keystone of green boughs with straight pins
string berries on wedge made of finger and thumb flute
an envelope of silence pouring out his torrent

Buck-wild silver out on the trellis
of the known, snail's trail
of ooze from the rectum,
a soothing smile, a leer
on the rope, anointment
of lovemaking, payment of light
from hardening ceiling, milk-roast
that inhabits caverns and canyons
freezing into flower, the lid of rock
like a monk's mouth, bristles
articulate of wrists, sun's
urge less whipping on waves
of long unkept forests froth
mirroring out from a tremor
of total life spunk lost
in the forest celebration's
egg nothingness caught
and besieged with knuckles of bird
lay on out the blue mat--
as violins nod to the imaginary center
baby god bows out of his death tuxedo.

Going to war with flesh in a sun ray
benched for a river of ozone
birch flowing on hills of no empire
crumbled seats of stone
android informed hillocks
flicking ash into a soft abyss
watching it balloon into clamor
on the steam floor of the last world
and the last world
and the last.

Kingdoms of leaf on which
to sit in elevated shadow of oil.
Ruined gaze that inhabits
the transparent seas.

Slobbering woof of amp
firewheel of my consciousness
reassembling; voice of unheard purple
stabbing over the circuit of the moon,
toppling pines within screen
world bawling underneath, strewing
hands like trampled ferns
feet reveling in madness
to excite birth.

Logs broken on the shore like weeds.
The godlike beauty of the form
even in this endless captivity.
Banished light that returns
through the mouth of the banished,
perfect thought mottled by wounded flesh.
Tongues through the empty diamonds of a fence
from the shot searching depths of a startled core
heart empty as the cashbox in back of the tree house
infinity that stares out of my throat
no longer asking to be fed
what does not fill.
Tumult of leaning trees toward wet sand
fork of earth eating eyes
with an opening song, delirium
of every color attacking the cursed
with armored blessings,
valleys bottomless with eaten doves
that cannot be vein followed,
shining from between my body
where earth takes off to infinity
blazing with many tails
demanding with gravity, stung
what time would not fecund.

Let me speak to your body!
And all these little squirrels bury
their hatchets in the sand.
I will find the worthiest peels
in the compost, twig them
with mutant stems, and buds
that draw rain.
Follow the whirlpool into my chest
let my tongue's nest of ribs
speak into the fibrils of your cheeks
with the ages that have swept
me to you helpless as a rag
knowing it in strength
the twined tide wraps it in.

Let me caress the season's lapse
as it falls on your body.
And the hungerless waves, to row
in them like one not being eaten.
Torn meteor eyes, soft round waist a bell
frayed bangs wild haunches marked mouth
face broad as a brick, gaze flat and
infinitely elsewhere.

Welts of daylight
rise up little mouths
in the chanting darkness.
Rain is harnessed
to those who move.
Until one has been
included among the damned,
life is not understood.
Spirit's eye on the raving body
flunking lashes into the nerveless sea
the hunger of anti-space
to be injected with blood.

The open dream is invaded by travelers of marble who hurt chairs.
Their faces go to work on the air.
They see their still lips against urgency of radio waves.
Bodies crash open in the sun hammer.
Perfect poise is heavier than gravity spirits singing at grates
that thread sky into tubes pool colors of smashed dust
enlarge in corners that slit numinous and lose the center for a wider sphere.
Violet passageways open to shrieking milk and the petting of framed hallways
in the setting dawn.  Lawns onscreen fade hair and shrink bodies down to wrap
on their faded furniture.  The rooms drift through each other.
The lights cluster in one.
Doors blow off like torn lips.
Chaos enters through ultraviolet piss of machine brass.
Hot irons tickled by passing trains.
The open dream is closed by frozen milk clover.
Lasers are threatened by bowed glass.
Thunder is dance less on foam-cut acres of voided fence.
Boulders roll to make way for a spider's head.
Tender eyes move around on that teething body.
Sand slips to the outskirts
the core is transparent velvet
with a gingerbread top.

As the light erodes my body,
I learn to enjoy the brightness,
its darkening impact,
the mushroom underside of the sun.

Ferns in my eyebrows turn me
on and off, on and off.
A long dirt floor heels punched
with holes when it was a runway.

An iris life framed by severed elbows.
Frozen scaffold that unhands the moon
from her orbit.
The end of prophetic blood, significance of numbers
table salt around the rim
of celestial anus.

Fronds of meat disguised as quilled leaves,
billow of voices breaking
on the hot engine hood
of a condemned future.
Peninsula of ragged sperm
crawling over a shelf of stone.

This maya music makes me wish for a woman.
I close the window on my pain, pray the water will not cover me.
I'm chimney-dancing, thrusts at the moon.
Confetti of spent tears in the air.
Throat of solitude which swallows error for pearls.
Incense of cold chiles that huffs in the doggy pen.
Cliffs' side decorated by the cranes and sprays of innocence paid.
The helpless rage of poverty a workshop of claws.
Sink's blade that only sings to your terror, trash-dampened escape.
Sun for days under the flank of the continent,
breathing root-broken cacophony of worms.