Dogfight 2

Rolling scissors vertical
waiting for your engines to quit,
yours spit thousand pounds
against fiber glass,

mine, flumes and feathers as tight as
they will go.

Frames howling.

Hoods of hats witches off,
gatlings ready to light a candle
against the dark.  Fiberglass versus aluminum.
as we spiral up.  Masked mathematics
against shear ratios as the stars come out
in daylight.

Who will brake first?

Out of air, our concerns turn toward
survival.
Twin flat spins.
Control.  And full afterburn.  And flares,
just in case
trigger happy missiles launched along the way
are watching the descent and
finding a home
in the hot beds,
of our misfiring engines.

This I Believe 2

I believe in muscle cars.
I believe in cigarettes.

I believe in sex.
I believe in music.

I believe in teachers.
I believe in language.

I believe in huxpaugh.
I believe in spelling.

I believe in vaginas
and their power.  And
a god and tattoos.

I believe in siblings.
I believe in right over might and
mind your own fucking business.

I believe in dabling.
I believe in my friends.

I believe in my protects.
I believe whomever finds shelter
'neath my wings.
I believe in fighting
for the fuck of it.
I believe I saw what my eyes told me.
I believe in orgies.
I believe in candlelight.
I believe in pocket change.

I believe in bottle caps
and spelling things with numbers and
writing letters instead.

I believe in the unseen,
ghosts and aliens,
and I believe
hate should not be thrown around
like parking lot shopping bags.

I believe in shopping bags.

I believe in whatever you have
to say and I believe in fists.
I believe words are weapons and I
believe you don't have to have
brass knuckles
to qualify.

I know pain.

I believe in it.
I believe ducks wait.
I believe clouds arrange themselves.
I believe vaginas wait
for the right words,
dicks too.
I believe there is no such thing.

I believe professor is unearned.
I believe I did not need to read
that story to be relevant.

I believe I came with a hammer and
I believe I ca-me.

I believe I have not read enough.
I believe I would not be where I
cum cum cum.  I believe.

I berserk and I am done.

I believe I am finished,
but I have a couple more to say:

I believe I will never look at
why I run the same way.
I will not.
I believe running in the woods is gorgeous.
I believe time is an organism.
I believe time is an organ with very large pipes.
I believe pigeons are beautiful.

I believe money is quantum.

I believe sunrise is forced.
I believe sunset is fake.
I believe massive is sound.
I believe everything
needs a ground when it comes light to ground
so nobody gets hurt.

@ Dawn

Hands behind a back
& hands around my throat.

'kerchief around my notes
and tip tongued note.

Safeties off and
tombstones wrote.

Last meals brought before sunrise.
The pole stays the same.
I am comfortables, behind the back
play the game

until the first bullet crosses the distance.

Filters

Jumbo talk,
big wheel talk,
spare .... ...............  spare tires.

Walk with the wind on your mind.
Will you come with me?

No?

Yes.

 Biding time
to do disgusting things.
You've made the list,
the sign out list,
the guest book,
the thing not progressing toward a thimble
sharing the needle
press of sanity against the "do not do"
"how will I explain it when they
catch me in the dark?
But you may have a list
too"s.

Catch me in the dark if you.
It'd fair.  On the last days
I expect to see you,

"because I will be there"s

on your last too.

We Come Down From the North

Snow and SoHo

Something like Vermont and Cali

Golden wild life and South Mexico.

Guns and dick.

The cities of the plains,

West of the range and East of the divide.

Heart felt knives out and eyes on.

We came down from the North,

lost our way on the plains,

and so we set some fires

to see our way home.

I'll Come See You

Knock the slag off, with air piston jacked hammers.

Sitting on a crate opposite you
sitting on another,
printed in yellow block stencil
underneath, 98 mm high explosive x 75.

Underneath my ass 150 mm
aye pee
times thirty.  My feet dangling like our cigarette's
smoke mingling on a windless afternoon.

The front is 220 miles out
East as the crow flies.
We will have to refuel
over the mediterranean
and I am looking forward to seeing
how you do it.

Our conversation has already broken down
into objectives and way points with a little
bet mixed in to the after action report.

It is unfair
to where we land and to whom we mount against,
because they are not in on the game.

Us both waiting for the KA-CHUNK
of couplings leaving us in free fall
to where our bombardier's decided
we could do our best
against the populace.

A little cheers of coffee.
A little double check of flight suits.
Is the mic where it needs to be?
Trial fit the helmet again
after a quadruple check;
be sure the reticle is in line.
Double check my nail polish
before the glove comes on.
Smash shoulders and opposing tattoos,
before the top of the flight suit
is zipped on.

Finish the coffee, with pills in our mouths.
They will learn what we live for,
they will learn what is loud.

Our flights will be long.  I'll sleep inside the mech
along the way.  I don't know what happens to you
while we wait out the sandbox for play.
The thup thup thup thup thup thup
I can hear, because I never turn off
the audio input once I am strapped in.

For me, it is a very long long long grin
to watch you work.  Guilty. 

Watching, zone cleared against spear chuckers
who happened to have come into
a fushionable pile
and needed reckoning before
something terrible happened,
you break out a "grenade"
two tons strong and willing to-\
-/Christ, where is the pin?

Mech against mech.  Dust to dust.
Die another day.
Why can you not understand I do
feel the same?

Fire the shell in my mechanized palm
to fire it just that strong
and knock it four miles out
to change the time of day from moonlit to
high noon in a fire ball that could eat city blocks,
but she's in the air.  Fair.  But "what the f@#$?"

Overkill.........  underneath your left foot,
underneath your left pedal inside your cockpit and
underneath you left foot outside your cockpit
you are grinding human flesh into a paste.  And now is
the fucking time.
Do you remember being small?  I do.
You don't get conscripted by chance. 

You find detonators.  You stumble upon detonators.
Land mines   Mines.  I've never met a land mine like you.

I will know how to move forward
regardless after you.
Everyone talks big.  Yack, yack, yak yak yak, waaaan.

Cruiser.  Angry.  There was someone else here.  I will find them, sonavubitch.  Fail.  My fault.    Reset.

Reset. 

Reset.

Reset.

Clutch in.  Match revs. Time to the light.  Gas pedal.  Clutch out. 
Release brake.
Gas pedal down. 

Slowly.

Burnout.

Walk With the Wind On Your Mind

Collages and kaleidoscope.  Yeah?  Reset day.
Where is your passport.  It is not a question.
Over used lately much chain quest bright lit
honey bee honey bear cooing sweater swim?

GET THE FUCK OFF ME.

Believing in the pebbles and stones and polished ones,
the ones that are good for skipping across the river
little waves like cigar boats running nothing but days for
hours and hours for seconds, brilliant, sneakers gone to sea.

It is not difficult.  Schools of minnows course around toes.

Get the fuck up off of me.

It is not difficult to watch the waves lap
across the tans and browned out pinks
of river rocks, toes gripping them
and releasing, only to be

held in hand & whipped away.

I may not have kissed you today,

fear not.  It was only because I did not think

I would miss your taste,

breathing in Allegheny on the wind &

pleading with another sunset.  Closing in.

With Teeth

Control.

Control.

The autumn sage.  Sunflowers explode over
where the lawnmower should not go.

For somebody elses money?

My sister has grown thin, skin to bones.
My other sister is thin skinned.

They call me a coward.  They call me broken,
hanging with the rust of us and happy to dine.

Watching the waves roll has been tremendous and
am I that butterfly?

Control.

Control.

On bended knee on a bitch's leash.
All up in flames.  Origami heart and a match

made in heaven and the shade.
Grade me,  Grade me!

What am I supposed to say,
what am I supposed to pay,

how far am I supposed to go?
Beyond what the dot dot dash dash  supposed to know

where it is that every thing began

and why where the river clips, it's a dam.

Feet up and crossed and if only I could
I would be a robotic horse
glitter balled.

Control.

Watch light break
through the ice cubed.
See through me and it's okay.
I cannot see you through.

Sunflowers exploding through the grass
while sunlight breaks through the glass
and paints the full spectrum
across my hand and fingertips tapping out
a beat close to my heart.
Red orange yellow.
Green blue indigo violent.
The whiskey, brown.  The ice, cubed.
I am the god of this empire.

Prism.  You damn coward.
You think I know?
It's hello.

Control.

Control.

sKIPPED tRACKS

The wrecking crew comes in,
the cinder blocks go out
like light bulbs cracking against cement.

Remind the self to dance.
Dance, dance, dance!
Dance as though your life depends on it!

The wrecking crew comes in,
breaths go out
like cinder blocks split by metal.

Softcore, hardcore, softcore.
One and zero and one and zero.

Like light bulbs cracked against cement,
nasal push button the taste of what was meant.
Mean grille.

You asked for teeth.  Hang a hat.  On the way out.