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