Saturday, December 29, 2012

the limitations of the angels

white and creamy bride
situational politics grabbing into the air
killing off the last identity
there is a shovel in the trunk of my car
screaming oh Jesus
the writhe target speaks to the narcotics agent
face is more than mouth
I knew that we could not trust her
charred upon the grill
she had green eyes and ruby lips
always a deadly combination
light headed
tears and teas swell

she claimed that they were only talking about how the vultures
hot and wholesome
can pick the winning lottery numbers
I am warping reality in my vehicle
pipping hot steam
will you play with me and my quotes
a beautiful trigger, do it now
the convenient bomb

drug crazed search, take it
eating another hit of acid
the elder search at the mall
take this gun and make history
I dreamed about you in the papers
you chasing them around the car
a twenty one gun salute
they were there in their green jackets
all of the dents had been hammered out
the one with an eye patch, spoke some words
hired bullshit

empty crust bitten
swollen and thrilled
the limitations of the angels
drunk and crazy
a hole in the ground
nasty jack
whiskey sour and apple pie
the invisible hand
sitting cross-legged
shivering apron
wetness plastic
choking upsurge
my rib

friday night, lotus man
eating the pumpkin woman
thick slices
second slices
watching me drink tea
Walt Disney noises
the neon light doobie
quiet money
hides in the nutritional values
high space and huge slackened roots
dancing Shiva
full moon and inspired meat
cheesy history
it was a timid scheme
laughing gas and exit signs

army saigon
hitched and polite
candy corn
palm out flat
counting the money
flat tortilla
come alive
wound up anxiety
flower power jazz
steaming long
king kong
banging bomb

sad fool
footlong turd
presidential race
monotheistic soliloquy
a national trait of repugnance
insensitivity





Wednesday, December 26, 2012

white rainsuit

a unique device
punish me
with open eyes
Laffayette avenue
the bridge to the other side
where we bought our weed
and made plans of discovery

on the planet
pursued into the garage
get back
auto inspiration
my idea
gray skies implies

on the hill
we roll
left to the dream
american sprouts
lamp shine
the dogs whine
with sharp teeth
they don't know the way
to the promise land

the doctor's house
crowing cocks betrayed
30 silver moons dancing
the music said hello
and welcome

words and bodies
the state police
sourrounded the house
bullhorns and guard dogs
the railroad cop
with his thermos of cold coffee
they could only talk of eternity

Thursday, December 13, 2012

mountains

these lucid lines
this dream torrent
dream and horror
removed by obligation

needing an old man and his wife
awkward laughter
footsteps
nickel beer and lemonade

becoming the bird
the taste of young flesh
a version of a comic strip
the American dream

fumbling salt shaker
dressing up like chickens
with stolen credit cards
the desert started taking hold

sweeping and holy jesus
your turn to drive
soon enough
it all goes down the drain

tough with one leg
pushing my luck to the outskirts of town
beauty queens and bong hits
some asshole is selling papers

I have seen him before
last night's chicken bones floating around
it was a universal plot that he was selling
a good job in prison

ancient bites
run away with your anger
hide in a hollow tree
nostalgic backs
broken again

this is the way of the world
all shadows interpreted
badly and with reason
tincture of poison

betrayed, waylaid, misanthrope
obscured hands catch the wing
you improvise at every turn
last night in calcutta

awaken the itch
nakedness and desire
run your fingers through my hair
whistles and dog barks

the tranquil dissolves
into the night
trembling belly
willing smile

tonight we are planets
you could dream about lovers
the pain in the kidneys
all too famous for your misery

this imortal love
sticking the morphine
I awake in your dreams again
my effort to move

mountains




Thursday, November 29, 2012

wretched mind


undone with forgiveness
the eleventh hand
outside my window
still the bird song
the electric chair,
seated upon my heart
boring the hole
right through
blow away the sawdust
that was me

the dog wagging
gaping mouth full of cops
laser beam Sunday
robot faces, as
we read the paper
you, clipping
snip, snip
toggle bolt
broken zipper
the jar full of coins
a rusty hacksaw blade
and the grand dark

we drink the last of the wine
long red tongue
and the cat paws the door
she wants
inherited peacock
we lie unhanded
unabashed
by the ripples
huddled with the sermons
endless devotions
recite thy anthem

magic wheels
they eat at the heart and soul
telegraphic brain
scrible the words of eternity
beyond images and cheap reproductions
satisfy Hollywood
invisible murder
 frail machinery
reading Chicago's magazines
today, we open the door
the police want to search the apartment
abolished street images

nameless skyscrapers
landslide inheritance
another human message
don't tell the neighbors
 making plans
fingerprints everywhere
tarot card billionaries
seeing through all the death
the whitewashed room
blurring death
you went out for crackers
brown paper bag menu
green door
knock three times

your shoulders
our pills
an iron hat
that short little nazi
dragging his buttocks
thin brown legs
she was feeling her way
anoher asphalt night
moonbeams
among the bastards
on to Jupiter




Wednesday, November 28, 2012

new stuff

it has always been you and me kid

you were a call girl first responder
kicking down my door
I thought you were here to set the fire
not put it out

you did
we did
they did
everyone cheered like at a wedding
a politician made a speech
and kissed all the babies

I heard the girls say they were looking for handsome
while I had a heart attack in the bathroom
lost my last twenty dollars
I'm glad I called

staggering home from death
the blue motel rooms
magic stars, consciousness
lost to the strange
the vision
curled up

lopped off and wriggling
the creature feels once again
my pain
my redemption bought at Kmart
30 dollar bag of love
the universe is cut in two
laying in my arms

on the wing
my nostrils infinite
I believe
laughing dog
invisible revolver
drive me crazy
into the earth's eye
between truth and being

creeping soul
don't remind me
let me sleep inhuman
dusk on stoops
I rise with the beasts of dance
and sing my song of freedom
anger, beware
slowly sanctified
black sun ecstacty
grieving death
mother's ghost
no more speaking

bell tolls
cafe tables
spilled milk
reborn in sunshine
it never comes
city hall with its broken doors
overthrow the man
against the wall
vomiting tail
3rd street slide
instant coffee
little cigars
and letters from home
10 more days in this universe

scratch my balls
red coat girl
imagined radio
psychic dust
skeletons reading lips
searching for their chicken soup
another plastic jesus
straight from /chicago
long hair three days beard
an image scrawled in the back of the mouth
take me home

ignorant patterns on the Denny's menu
the smell of perfume in my room
I forgot my name, all over them
politician tongue
disgused as a pelican
we shoot our guns out in the street
today we think large thoughts

she was dreaming of the lottery
prophesy, glad tidings
town square flies
hot dog stands and my mouth
me face in your dreams
perfect circles
flop house blues
imperfect combustion
a little more choke
piss on my hands

eternity takes the bus
three blocks to the library
looks up the book on Bobby Hull
high sounds on your tape recorder
the blonde reminds me of her
a gracious bunch of murdering thugs
neglected by their mothers
the cosmic eye spreads

Monday, November 26, 2012

saucer of milk

grunt, maybe
electricity on the beach
all the balls glow
the shark tooth preacher
hide my shadow
I can't find the light
can't fight the light
maybe I'm wrong and maybe it was spite
huffing and puffing
a love balloon
eye contact
getting out of town
trader head
beach electric
seaguls in flames
this is charity
this is my mask
rainbow moonshine
tell the princess
a little tiny cup

Sunday, November 18, 2012

I was so tired


I watched you climb up the tree
you climbed it to be saved
looking for the damages incurred
listening to the voices that you heard
between swallows of beer
you are the star that we sail our ships by
you are more than this photograph
between my dirty fingers
as I steer my ship into the night

Friday, November 9, 2012

just call me lucky #4 - in progress

unintelligible sinner, questioning
joining in with the crowd
I am sitting at Tmes Square
holding a piece of cardboard over my head,
trying to keep them out

hey, nice dog
"nice ass"
can I bum a cigarette from you?
I'm new in town
fresh off the bus last week from Tulsa
I'm just a lonely guy
can you help a guy out?

I'm playing all of your b sides
stacked up four feet high
like a madman's face
spinning the night away
one joint at a time

soon you will be married
to cars and electric guitars
sealed lips and  your night mares
before we die
before you ride the unicorn



Saturday, November 3, 2012

just call me lucky #3


a.
they are standing still, waiting
pour their coffees onto the floor
the monkey claps his hands
they bring him a tray of excuses
he picks out the sweetest one
and bites into it
pentrating every corner

I am running down the road
my heels drag like petroleum
I vanish like the unborn
repeating the image, the existence
this has never been found
every sadness of before
old dumb moon

specks of dust
hidden paths crossing
all I own horizon
matter and energy
pondering the elevator
my last kiss
eternal footsteps
plexiglass faces
the traffic moving up and down
transformed into another


face of pain
escaped elevator
at the trolley tracks
we visit the innocent in the whorehouses
with a gothic phallus
smoking the gloom
we are all dead
they stack us up next to the bus stop
making waves, I scoop them into my hands
endless variations at the depths


no song for the piano
20 years of love for the junk man
boiling supper chicken
back from the four walls
eyeing the fates
three tricks for the gangsters
a sudden attack against your soul
out to the push and pull
of my belly aginst the void
I made the monster here
I filled it with music
and the screams of the dark seas


god living at the chicken farm
she would holler way after dark
one hundred dollar beaver
cold fish and raw cabbage
purple veins on her legs
her hands would smell of madness
it would color her eyes
with idealism
it was not mine, I had to borrow it
bring it home in a brown paper bag
fed it little by little to the chickens
they were getting high in the windows
watching the sun go down


b.
gone so strangely into the army
nursing my broken heart
we were always on the plot
my soul strarves
escaping the fatal
you were taking orders
from the spies in the front booth
secret police darkness
all those politics

I was a fool with an ache
half undressed and screaming at the televison
they don't understand
staring into my eyes
you said that you felt betrayed
by all of your broken things
newspaper clippings to prove your honesty
one beat at a time
a scar on your head

there is a peace to your eternity
awaiting your specter
raising the ceiling
against the white bathroom walls
she is not a bad girl
though she dwells in the shadow
drinking cheap sodas in her sundress
the crash of wars
rammed down her back
at the window, is her image

farewell, black shoe
reborn to death
million eyes
looking at nothing
being doomed
bloody skull
these are not answers,
only more questions
turned over raw
tired spansish ladies
listening to Jethro Tull

it was all cat crosses
she looks up and says meow
drinking in the chaos that is pure America
a blue bottle and a huge rock
the cop around the corner
he was mailing his love letters again
fried bologna and dill pickles
the cheese slicer lays on the floor
with dead arms, they don't feel
an old shave needing a face

we salute you Seraphim
flowers and communists
you saw the dust clouds growing
a fuck in the battlefield
there is no good and evil
you said, "relative," with a snicker on your face
like you had seen it all before
and still chose to live in chains
making magic prayers in the basement
prayers for goiters and arthritus
prayers for god's little whores






Friday, November 2, 2012

just call me lucky #2


a.
out stars, come and see my dimness
collecting the kings
fallen road, wall shadows
is it you?

falling onto the floor
pop, pop, pop
we have the fear
it is our only chance

Paris Rose,
might I see you again?
a simple pain, a legacy
a sponge in the dishpan
you limped around the moon

collecting the honey
a secret heart thinks
of secret things
being caught off-guard
no despair
only chance

a pinched smile
blinking at new faces
they appear out of nowhere
a little tougher
with murder
and a toothache
demanding a blood transfusion

unconscious oxygen
breaking glass under blue skies
a feathered hunger on the cheek
vanished jaw grinning
my body rubbed metal
bleeding snub-nosed
nerves and guts

up close before
on the empty dawn
giving less of a shit
a next world rag-tag bully
stumps and logs
this one is a problem
maintain your powder
someone will always jump on it

keep checking
come on baby
stop holding your breath
stop thinking of nothing
I am beginning to disappear
the snake runs through my belly
see the scar
a high traffic area
climbing up the brick
leaving on the next bus

b.
Jackson wants to know about perfection
he is smashing another system
as he dances
more than big enough
violent currents
impacting
with my ticket in my hand


he is sleeping with laughing gas
for my birthday
two dead and counting
coming loose and hitting my head
only help from the dead
waiting with hollow eyes
thinking of the altar
I burn my fire
with a sack on my back
I could never see what was behind me


sipping the dark
as I sneak away
covered footprints
my disguise a smile
countryside graveyard and the bliss
the stillness
come to me my sweet
backward through the avenues
giving the landlady her money
a toothless grin
posterity evades the question


Harpo dropped out of the sky
he did a little dance on the page
I waited like a banshee touching the moon
and then smash, bang, clang
he used to worship beautiful girls
drunk, trembling, and happy
waving in all directions
naked scratch, slow hangups
are you thinking of me?
I am under your power
coming out cheerful for breakfast


plucking grass, the wail, the babe
a battle ship left to rust in the harbor
high on entitlement
feeling my bones
as if for the first time
I walk with my eyes closed
yet my fingers are still
more than frost
more than  clear winter moon
a promise not to kill

we all realize that we suffer
weeping for another dream
when the cobwebs have left our mind
we buy and seel the pieces of worship
they are worn, but still work
still can bleed under a cloud
learning the madness




Monday, October 22, 2012

just call me lucky #1

A.

nerve gas appetites
as shouting angry ghosts
seeping in with mustard and wine
reaching for the white fool
struggling with your fables
the sunlight falls on hats and shoes
we burn in the furnace of narcisism
your pots against the walls
still dripping with sultry
we live underground with the spiders
dreaming of the machine's suicide
imperfect love
the lion eats my mind


the national pathos
original naked soul
overcoming your gravity
radiant lustful faces
friendly shades
an unfinished granite

beaten by the guards
we couldn't recognize him
his face was swollen like stereo
the solitude of a thousand kisses
the glass jam jar
reflecting the little light
I want to sing of your unexpected presence
the girls all got in a line
the day placed the animal heads
like some tiny sacrifices

this gracious grace grows
she asked for more Christmas music
calling me govenor
desire does exist on the Siene
it cannot be found anywhere
we have all looked
and did not find it
I touched your smooth mouth
my mental haze
a blue transciption
drops of feelings
my words piled up
my lovers stealing my clarity
knuckles against the tombs
this map of the stars is useless

listening to the paranoia
they dream behind the counter
boxes stacked up to the ceiling
the song of the cities in our pockets
with a sad headed univese
we sang like whales
in the depths of our misunderstanding
we sang in bus stations and landromats
reading old rusty fliers
with mustashed miners
holding the shephard's hook

born of the pungent
new footprints and another star
unfolding death
like white hair pilgrims
as they traced the cosmos
digging in the pit
honey hole prayers
dividing the market
flying down the neon highway
an old border town junkie
eating the madness from dogs

B.

a fugitive horror creeps in
looking into the image, our bodies
joy or terror?
no compass for this world
finished and standing at a dead end
I have seen and done the futile
in the drugstore neon light
we considered it to be ordinary
laughing in the living room
the night sky saw that there was nothing to steal

golden hairs in my comb
an empty bottle of jack on the floor
guided by the eternal beat
my worst fears
whisper in my ear
the outline is still there
the cracked blue wall
he had died so many times before

with artificial faith
taking a bite out of the young
the blather of ghoul's
kiss the tip of that hydroplane
I open one eye looking for the sweet again
riding in the judge's limosine
we are telling him about the wild we inherited

she was afraid to dig a little dirt
listening to the wood peckers
burning towards your doors
show that little girl how to push the mower
the cross had faded on my arm
an old drunk and new years
the bouncing up and down as you put on your shoes
everthing is about a piece of ass
engine scream and mountain top
she needs to see a doctor

we burn the sulfur and the smoke
we powder the hinges to our minds
the needle point is a highway
transcendance is a nightly dance
this must be your middle-class insanity
it takes a toll on everyone
you would crack open the trees
and drink the syrup of the witch
black coffee for your native saint
we pile up the stones to throw
I would shave if someone would play for me
some utopian jazz
Neal would laugh evertime we would say cock

we built bodies with blind eyes
worked 10 years at the factory
we told everyone that we were teaching them to see
it was such an embarrasssment
I can still hear you yelling at your mother
telling her to stop, mom stop
dreaming of abscence
you are sitting at a small table
looking at old newspapers
the good lord is speaking into your ear
he is smoking a joint and telling you
about the old days when fish could be divided
he has a lonely voice

Monday, October 15, 2012

rule of three


1. knowledge -
a.what do I know?
b. why do I know what I know? What life events or experiences happened that put me in a position to know what I know?
c. How is it that I know what I know? what specific circumstance led to me knowing what I know?


2. thought -
a. what do I think?
b. why do I think what I think?
c. how is it that I think what I think?


3. Emotion -
a. What do I feel?
b. why  do I feel like I feel?
c. how is it that I feel the way that I feel?



Sunday, October 7, 2012

Roxy Painne and the medicine show

a mechanical tree in Kansas
dreams of  machine death
first there is rust
and then there is pressure

melting it down
to feed the birds
you thought it was a matter
of right and wrong

everybody is talking backwards
I stand on my head
and recite the declaration of independence
a man is checking my feet for wounds
he says he is a priest
but his breath smells like a pedophile

sick dogs
pick up the broken heads
hide them back into the gloom
we tie them up together
a shared infinity
as real as we can get it
it was a solid job
everyone said so
a solid world

we thought we were building America
we painted ourselves into the classical paintings
there we are in the street scene, with the smoke
and the canon balls exploding
we are imigrants, fresh off the train
looking for god in the theaters and saloons

the surprise of the death
shocked by the barricades
we close in on ourselves
eating our own flesh
hangers hang from wooden pegs
a keg of gunpowder
matches strewn across the floor
a pile of indescribable rubbish
no secrets here
everything adds up to nothing

Julia with her sons
poor imigrant homes
the sign says no dumping
there is a canon in the field
it sits there alone
moving it's hands
searching for a shell

read to me with your thick ancient accent
shirley temple between your legs
the river rolls up and says hello
it wants to throw nickels against the wall
you say successs is New York
blotches from the sun
the pale rider
why is it so cold?




in progress

I found your doll next to the heap of scrap metal
just out of the temple
freshly used
disruptive justice
from your fingertips
an Easter candle with bullet holes
he was a poor shot,
bleary-eyed and shaking off the dust
and we escaped out the window
we worked all day in the fields
pulling the carrots out of the ground
a home for your wilderness
a shrine by the roadside
plastic flowers and a plastic Jesus
I am covered in fur
I live in the wilderness

my eyes are open
they are cloudless
like the dirt between my fingers
the rooms creak with memories of the past
losing the will to live
the feathers of the fat rooster
worthy of a tear
you use them to cast yor spell
yellow temples of hashish, blissful
we settled into the cave of gold
this is war
sinking our teeth into the green leaf
we were no longer hidden by the obscure


Dusty in a party dress
joining the spiritual with the meloncholy
there is something there in the blue night
waiting as a wild hog
my balls are omnivourous
they want to eat the neighbor lady's cat
it is true that I came here with a wagon load of explosives
they were for the resistince
now, everybody wants to get along
to check their portfolio over the phone

in the back of the van, we fold the papers
just like uncle mike had taught us
this was before he left for the war
and returned missing something
he left a part of himself with the dead
now he drinks cheap whiskey and fights at the bar

sick with nostalgia
a night with dung and hammock
the small clouded sky
we played cards and smoked clove cigarrettes
the dwarf wouldstel them from his work




Saturday, October 6, 2012

the cracker box suprise

wasting time
waiting for thoughts
that never were born
the city dump of my broken heart
broken glass and old newspapers
a shit, shower, and shave
there goes my main lady
she works at a liquor store
she makes enough for bacon and cigarrettes

in the center of the room
lives the hollow voice
it has fallen from heaven
in a beautiful flame
it speaks of the end of all time

this is the real world
another wheel turns
fortune spins its web
we are caught by reality
victims of progress
victims of our rituals

the worms eat the beautiful
there is a mountain of garbage
outside my window
there are hundfulls of unhappy
the heart tries to find a difference
no familiar face
no familiar body

this was the common age
we shared the smoke and the bottle of rum
no more blisters on my fingers
wandering around lost
wandering the streets
like a piece of shit
a toast for the dead
we meet the dead everywhere
in your Soho markets
in your tumble weed streets

exotic cafe
haunted by legend
attracking flies
elegant and striking
you were having a thing
for Jackson Pollock Shoes
selling your vacum cleaners door to door
it was all so grand and tortured
sirlion burgers
an expandable teen idol
a unique place for self

you thought of them as an equalizing force
crispin glover chilled to the bone
ingredients of the machine
love and sex
drug addicted and troubled
loudly removing myself from the room
I am fundamentally abscent
I am not here
recycling the ritual of death
there are so many forms
making it weak, taking the strength out of it
I loaded one cartridge after another

the alarm clock is ringing
bared feet with eyebrows
she has a big ass
sits in the hole
pats around the sides
she is the scarecrow

bullet holes in the wall
the last execution
desolate rooms
making plans
to extract the needed thing
the grocery boy turns into a thief

dollars and wine
to take the taste of stale beer
a ritual of grilled meat
we listen through the paper thin walls
there is a preacher asking his wife for forgiveness
she drags a trunk out of the building
it sounds heavy, full of crime
we have filled it with the sins of our fathers
we are working on the syntax of the apocolypse
and yesterday's love


Friday, October 5, 2012

assassinate the verdant heavens
take and simulate
accentuate the impossible
insinuate that only fools know each other
associate
interrogate
retrobate
instigate
masturbate
infiltrate
particulate
procrastinate

Friday, September 28, 2012

every rider must have a ticket

my girl,
with occupational eyes
eccentric gossip in her head
like the moon, she has never been faithful
speak to me in your bleak voice
go wild, Irish Rose
wild like the world
like the thorn,
that pricks blood from the stone

in the night
in the light
trembling when the cock crows
hello little girl
my little girl
with big plans
in her back pocket


you deceive and corrupt
with your naked-waist politics
in the dark night
an old bare-footed man snores
nothing grows
burning hair
boiled claw
broken torso
and wrinkled skin
Apollo with a box full of smiles

my face dead cinder block
the determination of tin can hands
moving down dark within me
love creeps
eyes not engines
virgin pure swaying
you point the gun
and seal my tomb


discover the secret dragon hat
dazed and snickering
with a couple of farm angels
with dead eyes we see
she strolled over
and stole a kiss
I lay down my burden

following the sun West
we walk and laugh
on creeping legs
the mocker of our gaze
tempts us
with hungry haggard throat

the iron gate
of this hollow place
reads a notice of damnation
it was not fire but worm
not a tomb but a machine
the ways of Heaven
are numbered
we scratch them off
our playboy centerfold

between two dark doors
we meet at eternal ends
a twisted steel universe
my mind wanders
from rust to sundown
this world's blind gaze
turning and dying
papered with visions
of wrath and rumor

we keep heading down the dark road
I lay down next to the suffering
the security guard at the Tulsa mall
asks if we have ever been in trouble
with the long arm of the law

we are surprised by all of the statues
with movie star smiles
they are dreaming of me again
 naming the images that flow
happy dancing chickens
we ate them with mashed potatoes







Tuesday, September 25, 2012

I would grind it down to a nub

bending down, touching
some break
they cannot breathe
solid wrapper
my soul bleeds
if I had something
just anything
then I could dance

she was asleep in the next room
shoot and destroy me
like the age
like the trauma
with a stone around her neck
with her hand dances
shouting blue and rattling dark

you stand in the midst of them
as a mother of all flames
we shall build upon your glow
like the hills of Waukon
seeing the river for the first time
my might is bone and sinew
none stays at my feet
only frothy breath of the destroyer

feeling good like a saturday night
like a suicide
the hard evolution
not your original plan
they are hanging from your trees
following you after dark
little green eyes
ready for a change

it is all in the nature
in the smile and the handshake
all these colors coming out of my fingertips
they are the prize
they are the tatse

we were riding the double decker bus
you were talking about your cooking apparatus
how you could turn the cocaine into rocks
we lived as enourmous flesh
inspired and dominating the town
at night we set the town on fire
just for the sake of fire
it needs to be tended in the right way
the devil can't rule by himself

he needs to fill his city with souls
broken love in his hands
in his care
he was found guilty of all charges
abiding in the suffering
endless and wide
hairy legs and armpits
you say you don't care
shut your fucking mouth

the angel at my side
two angels with fierce eyes
now we got the spotlight
the weeping have their decay
let them out the window
let them fly to their freedoms
empty and wandering
a gray girl
no sunshine in her eyes
they had beaten her down

we stood in blood
and spoke to ghosts
when they came for you
I stood up and told them no
they were surprised for a little while
to hear someone tell them no
they had grown used to getting their way
it was the flower on the ground
it spoke to me
it said fight

take the skin
take the body
take the hood of the shadow
build a tempest
release the storm
carry youth upon this pole
hold it up high
blow my body
blow my mind
send a wind between my days
counting them like pennies
pass my heart between rat and rat
grind me down
to the bone





Friday, September 21, 2012

the day god told me find love or die

sunken years under
a few years of ruin
exhauasted before heaven
close to the crowd
dim sulfur mountain
five years of blue gods
the buildings of heaven
divine adoration
inherited pilgrim blessings
I carried the burden of your solitude
as far as I could

constructed thoughts
a bright new sky
the anguish of life
the terror of love
living in the hills
to the center of trembling
this low dog barking at the moon

clear boned women
skilled in the arts
ashes and furniture, scattered chicken bones
sketched open breasts
sky upward like the young
you spoke of the potentiality of miracles
your sister walking through the door

sprung crows
nestled feet and beaks
cawing to the picture in their head
I followed them to the thrid floor
falling away behind them
I had too many questions for them all
looking to see what it looks like
all day cold and either one would work
only the devil can tell

she waved at me, yielding me her heart
one face, one world, one reason to exist
essensce of the bold lie
the taste of freedom still on her lips
erotic lips
oh her experience was so true
there was a freedom in her eyes
that could not be reproduced
on a factory line

 this was not an sos
not a cry for help
but a cry for revolution
take up the weapons of the weak
and resist your oppressors
throw down the chains of your bondage
be free to be yourself
to live the life that you were meant to live

there is a hope
within the midst of the darkness
I took out my pocket knife
and carved your intitals into the tree




death row

my heart heals the petunias
a spoken garden
the alhambra and candle stick maker
stop the hoax and remove the hex
the real death head
grinning jackal
an absolute world
mad lions hanging from trees
my bones sing

picking up the pride
one leg at a time
you don't understand
I was hiding behind that tree
and you came over and cut it down
just like a good fucking buearcrat

noses pressed up against the wall
pledge your allegience
eggs and bacon
with bone marrow
milking the dust from the floor
over the body of suffering
hotel room
an half empty bottle
on the floor

eternity and the soul
walking down the sidewalk
killing everyone
she cried
my belly and shoulders
blood letters
he settled for the next best thing
a two car garage
next to a shrunken head

there was vooddoo in the mornings
raising the dead
her puppy could do tricks
an innocent expression
beaten over the head
with his peg leg
justifiable homicide

the rock of our salvation
drunk driveways
cocaine sidewalks
in the backyard with a cooler of beer
Iron Maiden is playing on the stereo
an angelic cigarette
tomato soup and cheese sandwich
your new tattoo of a starfish
we learn in desolation
from desperate angels




Wednesday, September 19, 2012

the top backbone

the ladies waved
screaming recognition
a beautiful love
filled with hate
start your engines
the gentlemen left the room
only us scumbags were left
we took advantage of the situation

open bottles like friends
long lost comrades
angry and wet ladies
such devotion
to their trade
to the deception

I knew you would soon
find your way on top
you always do
it doesn't matter where you start

bitching backbone
praise nothing
learning to recognize
the low hard fat one
Picasso and his glass of wine
sitting next to the warhead

my hotel room whore
like a dripping sink
she reads to me from her copy of tarantula
noble and dumb
like all good politicians
rolling a doobie and pontificating
releasing the hounds

it was the belly and the balls
a smile and huricane
we were setting up the walls
dug out dirt patch
a noon day shitty street
a smudged head cap
moon walking and when I died

we widened the gate
with dynamite and prayer
pulling the shades down low
Chucky lost three fingers
we awaken the road
blood and taxes
brother can you spare
something for the congregation

all men fall into the abyss
consumed by the invisible
we divide and conquer
the lost flesh
in empty apartment beds
listening to the echoes of time
holding the cards but not wanting to play them
desire eats the bug
and the bug eats oblivion




Tuesday, September 18, 2012

fly paper

these thoughts of you
full moon looks
bleaker corners
and tomcats
howl you bastard

remind me of the hunger
and the fatige
that grips me
bones and all

we wandered for hours
among the dead porkchops
asking questions to god
it was a blue love

tomarrow we will have more
busted and rusty
sitting beneath skies
as only we do

a minor key
sing sparrow
tilted so far
with a bloody chest wound

the villages rage
up and down the street
beating their breasts
indifference

tomarrow we will find an answer
bleak and dusty
stunted by the sun
Arapahoe

dead mouths
biological
untouchable
we harvest the emotion

this unholy thing
between two twins
cursed soul
and grime

external blade
so let the night bleed
on your shoes
on your torn carpet

the puppy dog shit stains
from long ago
reminding you of a dead past
with beads and trinkets

atom bomb
fucking war
angels weeping
insane demands

5 am rain, New Orleans
she kicked her legs and laughed
an interesting face
through the doors of the mind

they stab into me
pushing ignorance
cosmic vibrations
sold in the store

she tried to look ambitious
and endure the blood
through blinking eyes
she would ride all night
into the plains
dreaming the visions of the dead
speaking the words we had long forgotten


---------------new stuff ----

Monday, September 17, 2012

in the animal soup line

i am with you\
in this tempest
that you created
your mother's shade

spare me the trouble
spinster breasts
your innocent piano soul
dies madly

plotting Golgotha
so much about being lost
the zodiac speaks
and plays basketball

hiding ourselves
dismal pastiche
I have been driven madd
in the shelter

an elsewhere world
a promise of a serpentine
driving your car into the water
a very minor element

shared dissatisfaction
with the human worth
to seek and not see
to sleep until death

each tomb's stone rolled away




Monday, September 10, 2012

Mexico City

a furnished solitude
with square hipsters
you spoke of god
everthing swings together,

vortex, live vegatable
building your father's wilderness
in this city
under blue bluffs

I see the river
and it sees me,
entwined through our veins
and tributaries

deceive me again,
asphalt horse highway
a handful of white cross
tender throat boogie

crawl out your window
and taste the snake
your first peacock
in a booth in a cowboy tavern

knee bone flesh
sutured back
tomato silence
she flows

in and out of my dreams
like Mexico city
a step backwards and a step forward
infinite

a police bomb in the streets
barking tavern owners
come here and drink
come here and feel

once in a lifetime
mad mescaline children
chicken tacos
fish tacos

I had definite ideas
about politics,
Leon Redbone,
and the end of the world



Saturday, September 8, 2012

kicked in the eye

the wounds elevated
comedy and tragedy
resurected
and we as well,

by some gesture,
I think Proustian
a sentimental song
it was a surprising song,

we cracked under the pressure
of the atmosphere
the dead end
the kid with the black eye

you curse the ignorance
all this talk about Denver and Saint Louis
the muddy Mississippi river

your boat stuck against the rocks
the victims are all victimized
by the possessor

prodding me with your finger
trumpets and trombones
the book turned upside down
she put the republic away
back to it's place on the shelf

sigh and fondle
inside your leg
elusive thing
perfect lucifarge
he should be muddled
a bloody stain about the head

I don't know why
I only hear bits and pieces
I did see the master mix the letters together
in an old soup can
what do you mean?

he poured them into a can
and then, he stirred
mixed and mixed a gain
like shuffling
trying to cling to life


the practical is the wolf
how they behave in the penthouse
rolling the lumber
more caps for their pistols

extended travels
rattle snake handshake
looking for home
friends and family have gone
and the girls running after cows




a body in motion

you speak,
authored and second chance
the agenda tucked
tumbled
unique voice and intelligence

awakened the powers
you make it more intense than it need be
step back,
hold the shoulder
let blame fall

scurry behind the door,
under floor,
under the covers of the whimsical
could you?

and what of this, ... we

these things are not hidden
by putting them in plain sight,
we turn them into the mundane
and they are easily ignored by the masses
seeking to be entertained

denying the existence of the boundaries
according to your terms
my weakness and my power
to be left on the roadside
by the vision

a cosmic exile
yes and yes,
tell me more

once a self, ultimate
these frantic desires,
deceiving
my motives are only superficial

you were afraid to show your weakness
to pretend,

I was all you had,
even if the pretending made you,

... less, human


Friday, September 7, 2012

in the jungle

turns,
budding shoots,
no, not a turnip

the arms of the breeze
my old fan rotating
in the hum

fandango
thunder bolt and lightning

the ideas are more important than the things
i could not bring myself along

the pines
and the hunk of meat
the pink turning grey

a fucking tiger
sweet, are you still?

to justify their reality

i would not call them  cautious
the livig still vibrate
behind the walls


and you wanted your words to embody your convictions
strange pictures on these walls

shouting and stamping
mechanical assisted

the damsel in distress calls and I must go
off to write your death in stone
pin cushions
rosettes

Did I see you turn back?
and jump in to the deep end
 quicksand
pelicans

disturbed by the life you encountered
a room full of girls
begging for candy bars
through hell

with teeth and excrement
a life of blindness


this is america

being lost,
this is what we know best
to expect something and receive
something
totally different

a loss
I used to joke about god
and our foolish attempts to make plans

what does this reflect?
hardship
totalitarianism, maybe?
nationalism,
reginonalism,
a wine glass voice????

why should we sustain the crucificion metaphor?
what does this say about your morality?

sweat, sperm, saliva
I loved a world from each one
it was an empty mirror

the realness,
the cpacity to affect me
far removed from dancing feet
you want to hear more of the fool
and how he became a prince

how magic hung upon his breast


that was for a different time
the fool now sits on his front porch
selling crack cocaine
to white collar workers

everything a swindle
I can see the loss in his eyes
no one believes in him any more

angel eyes
naked and drugged
bleeding on the floor
looking stupid

skull warriors
popping pills
wall street terorists
hanging tombs

this is America



when love comes

abandoned devils
they, serve no self
no climb
the bowl that once contained rice,
is empty

to wrestle with the notion
that life could be overcome
not abandoned
in a roadside ditch
lolita

the means to a drug
mortal body
and divine universe

there is no self
only the primordial

my obsession
it keeps me
sorting the potatoes

high on mescaline
wandering to the nonesense
the musing of crickets
and bullfrogs

to fall into that well
instictively drawn

infantcy
the cry and moan
to pinch and tickle

they called her fancy
the best minds
no longer pulling the wagon

when love comes
there are no bargains
no repeal

she moves bleak

....

Carnival

the lies in your bedroom, spanish harlem
to communicte with the unknown
the unseen
unspeakable

tread upon
each soul's

hallucinating hallways
in the midnight

speak, oh jezabel of your bustle
summoned the dead
leaving us uneasy
moving between worths

I saw you somewhere outside
it was lunchtime
a mutual surrender
to speak the truth of the future
of all futures

pecker check
with pliers
cherished scraps in their drawers
that you can't decipher

a snowy landscape
unfiltered by the mind
just stark and bare
new minds

we will soon have to corrupt them
make them usless for their mothers
wearing out their shirts
in a room

the clock ticks
hands and knees
to race out the door
with tears stinging their eyes

saying their prayers
a little town main street
it once was a forest
a home for squirrels

popular tongue
stainless steel
errands under blue skies
fish jumping waters
bumble bee wings

run Esmeralda
seek that which you cannot find
with your wild hair
and bony legs
all mare
and no nightmare

to the crimes
rust polished off all my instruments
the love letters
and fat cigars



Tuesday, July 10, 2012

You soldier yourself into  corner, wanting to count the ways and means. Welcome home was all that you could hear against the applause It is all about what has been here before. There was no seam to be taken in.  I will remember how it is that your heart beats. This stream of being moves on past us. It curls right up next to the stranger. I will be there in the last.

Sunday, April 29, 2012

We ran through grassy fields. We ran through grave yards. I had a hunger in my guts that was a hundred years old. We ate devils for breakfast, lunch, and supper. We smelled of smoke and cold beer. We ate the Christians and counted ourselves among the good people. She wanted to come in through the walls, but the Beatles wouldn't let her. She was too old to be my grandmother and to young to be a fortress. I didn't want her to miss out on her good fortune. We dreamed the dreams of others and lived other people's lives. We marched down the street like a parade to a dead man's dirge. You shed tears of blood and wiped away the good fortune. It was the days of our youth and the thousand years in the fires of hell. She wanted a free ride on the merry go round, to ride with the lightning. she made only one little sound. She was the clever one, the only one who could solve the puzzle. We were so high that only the clouds cold touch us. The devil was looking for us around the corner. His hooves would scrape on the wood floor. How hidden we were among the reeds of the Nile, like two little babes in baskets. It was all such a tragedy back then. The golden fingers and the red eyes of the beast. We did not run, we stood our ground and howled at the moon.

Sunday, April 15, 2012

What are you waiting for? I have seen you on this street corner for several hours, looking up and down the street? Who or what do you expect? Are you waiting for the Mongols to come racing down the street? Why are you engaging in magical thinking? Feeling the certainty of the void, you scratch the two sticks together and hope to create a fire. A million years ago when the world was young we were presentable then. We thought ourselves kings and victors conquering anything and everything that came before us. Funny how our victories do not seem so sweet and significant now. This is getting alarming. One of the thieves were saved. It was a winning percentage. You circle the campfire throwing bullets into the fire. You cackle like a jackal. Come down off of your cross-damned. Our version is the only version we know. We have been taught it for years and years. They would expect us to pass it on to others. Is this the season of weeping? Let us set fire to this bush. Yesterday we were here next to the tree, speaking to the stone. Looking for the barbarians. I am sure that they will invade the village very soon. We should be prepared. The thief comes in the middle of the night to steal away the souls of the sleeping. Give me your hand, embrace me. I remain in the dark. Would the tree be strong enough to hold our necks? What is this that we are asking for? We wait for the second coming, the angels flying in the skies. Today we are barking dogs, growling at our shadows. We shout at each other making ourselves more bigger, more threatening. The second is never as sweet as the first.

Friday, April 6, 2012

A man enters the barn. Thirteen pieces of silver, a tattered dream, a broken heart, a box full of old bones from another life.  He is about to go to work praying for all the lost souls-trying to define his existence, providing a stimulus and reaction to the real, what he thinks is real omnipotent omnipresent a sense that he cannot escape from. He would say that none of us can escape. Trying to be faithful, he dresses up the dead, trying to make them presentable, declaring hatred the highest form of the hypocritical feeling-the pain within the body of god. Show god your love.


Ernesto hears all the voices of god, those voices that try to do the most, trying to dominate, trying to spread the disease as far  as he can, a religion, a testimony, he hides behind his hat, the patterns of color in his mind, he covers them in a garage sale letters. All over their faces, so many faces, the words do not come together, peeling away the scraps, the yes man haircut waiting on the call from the zombies to sell them shoes.

Ernesto tries not to swivel nor sway, he can only stand, to stand as a man like he was once taught. He sees those eyes watching from the slopes, there is crack in this man's soul, a pale light shines out from it, a rose colored thing that almost seems lifeless, like a just dead or dying thing, a half-life thing, that future oblivion that everyone knows is just around the corner. 

The echoes of desire that once called out to Ernesto. He fumbles with them in his feeble hands those instruments that once could do so many things, all about sound and image, the primordial connection to the past, the ghosts that whispers in our ears as we create. Scanning the fields for lifeforms, a long dead shiver,  he recognizes its sound maybe before he even hears it, a premonition, an inkling, a second sight into that world that he eventually will travel to, single and alone, a pawn removed from the board.

Saturday, March 17, 2012

journeys airports passion the meaning of life allowed fulfill every idea inspirations urban cap fidgets dreams of lying to everyone facing offers chests house flying cross inching towards us a vision that won't die I see you mired in tiny circles sacred hills were we buried the painted young men they were steel struts white paint on steel depicted in the rock art ceremony of the spirits you lie about the touching these hearts an alien dramatic tragic hilarious cycnical prevails desires provokes passing by moods would just make them heavy waiting for something bad to happen dripping head
blending existence the questions you cannot resolve all those voices that say nothing at all they blather on infinity the dark day comes and removes your dignity you have lost that thing that makes you human you used to be one of us until you leaped off the edge you say you were pushed but we didn't find the evidence there were no fingerprints on your back except god's and god removed his fingertips how can we play ina game where the rules keep changing we watch your religion fade it becomes a tiny stain on your grandfather's shirt the one you wear in remembrance we have forgotten the howl of November ghosts

Thursday, March 15, 2012

driving like a vampire turning into Christopher Walken quoting from the abusive guys handbook lifting the love child tell me what you are thinking no alarm bells going off watching you sleep

Saturday, March 10, 2012

drop down destiny caving five maneuver tricks universal equal fish bowl functionality outside glass everyone else looks in and becomes squeamish partake of the wafer feed on the blood figure out the drop the percentages the sky is vehement raindrop perception saying it wrong always migrated smile broke down teeth they resonate deep within your bones climb up the city stairs and tell the fathers about the tall grasses someone's direction learning sustainability eyeball losers humanity is keeping score coherent cracks in the wall falling through their necks I promise Rorschach  full throttle rocket rolling hair and right shoulder fearful waves free ride clowns with cancer  sores bad evidence of your retribution and reactionary politics holding your dictionary in your hand we can see the evacuation history is bleeding like a cold night run away little school girl pain and decay with a huge helping of terror they obviously changed the rules in the middle of the game weaving in and out taking your pulse yes you are still alive

Friday, March 9, 2012

struck by the tide misplaced smoke trampled miss palm she protest with breakfast hues oyster tangled days glossy fingers and happy decent an omen swallows down ruined face rumors of tongue nameless and divergent
you want the wind to bring you a new hope something new and brilliant just out of the packaging you assemble the pieces of this life and worry about the rent and the bills that always go unpaid you want to capture the brightness of heartbeats the center of human chaos hatching the flames of the unforgiven those who knew not how to tread lightly you have forgotten me I have escaped into another world another time one without you avenues of thought that you can't travel down your love never could tell the truth not even with a gun against its head I would ask you to be my friend but I am afraid that I have run out of reasons to share my soul with anyone else I have been bled too many times to really care any more I can see the diamonds in your eyes and the wind that blows your mind into the borrowed depths of another thirsty kiss standing here with you we slip into the dark blinded by your love toppled ribs far flung and needing shelter for your heart I spill through creation with flow and form I adore your world and cherish all of your ways it is he jagged folds that bring blotted tubes sick of choking sinner length and the dollars of spotlight platforms

Monday, February 27, 2012

did you see that person in the bushes did you read at the Conchita lunches did you stab the spartan and kill the wild beast made the cut we ran on for hours there was a fire in our lungs a piece of Yeats and the photos of your mother that you didn't burn with the others staring down at the little girl dances I touch with all the magic of a shaman I speak to your inner beauty I listen to the turtle repeat the words from that song by Huey Lewis and the news I pull out my bag of judgement and roll a joint your torn black grave corpuscle madness as we dig into the morning of void I wired you up to the bomb taught you all the prayers made sure that you knew how to bleed your sister was winking at me on Delancy street I had a tall bucket of well wishers sloshing out the sides I could forgive you if only I could find you I know you had a vision of what life should be like and we never got close to it until now you are sweeping the floor and I am stacking the oranges you were a naked barbie doll missing an arm with lipstick stains on your ass I pulled the gum out of your hair as best as I could cheap junk for the need everybody has a need

19.10


19.10
Bleary eyed and stumbling over something I remember one time I stumbled over harpo and jane on the floor together jane was embarrassed and harpo was laughing I saw jane sink her claws into harpo’s skin she told him not to move I was just getting a beer out of the fridge I was up late studying I probably had a test the next day in some class it is all meaningless now except for the memory of jane and harpo on the floor together just thinking about it makes me laugh we pretend that the darkness has an ending we curse the sheep as they betray us this brings me so much sadness I am sad beyond measure I am sad beyond countenance I am sad beyond ten fingers and ten toes a rodent face staring back at me invoking the moth and the flame my habits and vices you are living in the past I try to pull you out but it is impossible you said it was nice to burn things with your magnifying glass with jumbled up letters of delicious cake for your brain you say yes swallowed alive by the cake it looked like a test of wills you drape the towel over your shoulders and hold the light up high eating fried catfish each day you stick yourself with needles feeding your need under your skin catnip the deception you said I would like it I bought the tickets for the show those old romantic roles priming the pump with Jack Daniels devastated powerless in a trance I could see right through my hands I am vanishing fast I can’t open my mouth mesmerized by the unreal you are watching me go to pieces your words I won’t let you in my ears you look so much younger you changed your hairstyle I shut my eyes and I can still see you the static noise and the yellowish unnatural glow it seeps inside of me little by little making me its own I am being absorbed by this glow I stare at it and it stares back at me advancing slowly I step backwards as it moves towards me it feels like I breaking up into tiny little light particles and they are slowly being pulled by the glow like a magnetic force you have stayed on inside my head longer than you should have I can’t sleep so I get up and have a beer there is a glow coming

Thursday, February 23, 2012

19.9


19.9
A strange incident that leaves the protagonist disoriented you were shrinking getting smaller eventually you were small enough to put you in my pocket We would go to the movies you would sit on my shoulder and watch the movie I went to the store to buy you a doll bed to sleep on and doll clothes to wear you used to crawl under the electric fence you were so brave so courageous when the whole town stood and saluted you I tried my best not to cry I thought I would never see you again the games were something we never thought of I would punch it back to farthest point in my mind I tried to forget you sold strawberries at the market I remember my mother would buy all you had and then she would make me a pie with the berries I think that is why I associated you with sweetness because of the berries I remember when you started to ripen it made me extremely excited just to look at you I was afraid to look at you directly in your eyes so I would have to sneak peeks at you I remember your mother used to make fertility dolls and sell them at the market someone far off is yank at the ends of my rope tugging hard at me pulling me along I have always had this sense that the decisions that I make are not my own that someone else is making my decisions for me don’t try to see yourself in this because I don’t think you are here probing needles into the far reaches of my brain the appointed time of gloom and foreboding a shadow that whispers into my ear and says sweet peppers as if everything has been mechanically calibrated you said the door was looked I was lying on the couch my shoes and socks were on the floor you said that everything just seemed odd and different than before I am reading a new book I just got it from the university library I had one of the librarians help me find it tonya how are your strawberries are they as sweet and juicy as I remember can I put one in my mouth again see my mouth is wide open and your peaches my god your peaches