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
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