There is a mountain of snow
behind the glen of automobile bones.
Grass need tamped down
with dancing feet
beneath the beating sun.
Hot, hot without shoes and
it was on fire when I laid down and
pressed my cheek to iron. The ghost things
brushed my arms when the wind blew.
Dandelion thoughts. Ticklish
always. Giggle and try not to sweat
in the shadow of the beast.
It will all be glass soon.
The other shoe will drop and
shatter the reflections behind my eyelid.
The glare in the eye
I keep open while I sleep.
The sound of return of the painted dinosaur
is a lot like the sound of a shell
dropped at one's feet
on a toenail,
managing to skit away
to hit find its clack against an ocean polished rock.
Cymbal crash and sand
stand watch while tears roll
down my face to caress
the corners of my lips
beneath the hair.
The sun beats
and the waves speak
and people disappear one by one along the march.
The ship makes friends with the sky.
The clouds shake hands.
Jellyfish die.
The shell remains.
Near toes. To pick it up, to hear.
Already hot enough to burn fingertips to history and
laugh. Scorn. Who can I hurt? Come play with me,
from the deep the beach vibrates with a whale song.
original works of parts
Murder The Universe
Driving gloves no longer stick to the steering wheel
the way they did in summers past and
snot slicks it up and the radio buttons glisten
with thumb prints and the dash streaks
underneath street lamps passed by where
boogers and boogie men got smeared.
Practice come live; before panic breaks down
walls of reality and we all mash steel drum lips
to sound more human and who is who
when the rain falls on all of us and
the sound trickles in to our ears as
a cacophony of concussions with each one
reaching one before a drum stick has landed.
Fuck you, this is my planet, wait.
It is not, this is your fucking planet.
Janus? Gemini? Gnaw. Circling a dog star.
All born the same with passions the same
wills the same converted into expressions
of peace and rest that get misinterpreted
into statements of war and rust and gusto.
Head, shoulders, knees, and toes to sanity
let's go ahead and clip the profanity.
Fuck you. What did I just say?
Remember the planet on which we could all play?
I don't. I'm not a prophet and I'm always ready
to get up off it. Build the ships
and I'll start a new colony.
This one is dying and I'm glad to be a rat.
I wasn't invested. Galaxies is where I'm at.
Hibernate and I'll time travel with you,
when you wake I'll be happy to wake too.
Star scapes mean a lot more now.
When you're ready, I'll hold your hand
and move town.
the way they did in summers past and
snot slicks it up and the radio buttons glisten
with thumb prints and the dash streaks
underneath street lamps passed by where
boogers and boogie men got smeared.
Practice come live; before panic breaks down
walls of reality and we all mash steel drum lips
to sound more human and who is who
when the rain falls on all of us and
the sound trickles in to our ears as
a cacophony of concussions with each one
reaching one before a drum stick has landed.
Fuck you, this is my planet, wait.
It is not, this is your fucking planet.
Janus? Gemini? Gnaw. Circling a dog star.
All born the same with passions the same
wills the same converted into expressions
of peace and rest that get misinterpreted
into statements of war and rust and gusto.
Head, shoulders, knees, and toes to sanity
let's go ahead and clip the profanity.
Fuck you. What did I just say?
Remember the planet on which we could all play?
I don't. I'm not a prophet and I'm always ready
to get up off it. Build the ships
and I'll start a new colony.
This one is dying and I'm glad to be a rat.
I wasn't invested. Galaxies is where I'm at.
Hibernate and I'll time travel with you,
when you wake I'll be happy to wake too.
Star scapes mean a lot more now.
When you're ready, I'll hold your hand
and move town.
Shomurai
Leather laced.
Metal plate.
Sun down to sun up.
Glance and live.
Wink and die.
Battlecries form and
sink between lenses,
leash and dice held firm
while the links have to go.
No time to mourn
while the blessings let,
eventually they'll learn
six deep under stone.
Leather laced metal plate
and honed,
blade synchronized to
flesh and bone.
Metal plate.
Sun down to sun up.
Glance and live.
Wink and die.
Battlecries form and
sink between lenses,
leash and dice held firm
while the links have to go.
No time to mourn
while the blessings let,
eventually they'll learn
six deep under stone.
Leather laced metal plate
and honed,
blade synchronized to
flesh and bone.
Smoker 53
In the musicals
we toe and heel
rip razors through cement
tandem and dual and duel
through corners.
Clouds in our wake.
Cylinders burn
and discs glow bright
and you will hear us
before we are seen
and smell us
long after we are gone.
we toe and heel
rip razors through cement
tandem and dual and duel
through corners.
Clouds in our wake.
Cylinders burn
and discs glow bright
and you will hear us
before we are seen
and smell us
long after we are gone.
Dear Nose Blower
When you haven't quite got it,
tendril hung between the
El train and the pipped local
stop sign stippled tongue rake.
Surface streets or highway?
By air or by asphalt.
An indictment on mouth's condition?
Don't be silly.
Speed cross distance is time.
Time multiplied by pelvic floor
equals lung capacity and as long
as there is no blood we're good.
Lightheadedness
a side affect.
Where's my chewed toothpick?
Haywire. Sneezed the spare change and stick
right out of my damn purse.
tendril hung between the
El train and the pipped local
stop sign stippled tongue rake.
Surface streets or highway?
By air or by asphalt.
An indictment on mouth's condition?
Don't be silly.
Speed cross distance is time.
Time multiplied by pelvic floor
equals lung capacity and as long
as there is no blood we're good.
Lightheadedness
a side affect.
Where's my chewed toothpick?
Haywire. Sneezed the spare change and stick
right out of my damn purse.
Six Inches
The day
the snap and split of bone
touches your ear
between the 16 set of teeth in jaw
spread the sea red
nailed tongue and roof
upward between the eyes
to close a maw and seal tight
the cave of wonder locked
once and for all.
Six inches from contact
split uprights
and
a kiss.
Fantasy.
What are you afraid of?
A hilt?
The kiss?
Or my eyes two centimeters away
from your own,
your gun still
in its hiding place?
Three inches
would have made it.
Four is over kill.
Six
is
a
statement.
Stake and art and think
next time
before you decide
to temp.
the snap and split of bone
touches your ear
between the 16 set of teeth in jaw
spread the sea red
nailed tongue and roof
upward between the eyes
to close a maw and seal tight
the cave of wonder locked
once and for all.
Six inches from contact
split uprights
and
a kiss.
Fantasy.
What are you afraid of?
A hilt?
The kiss?
Or my eyes two centimeters away
from your own,
your gun still
in its hiding place?
Three inches
would have made it.
Four is over kill.
Six
is
a
statement.
Stake and art and think
next time
before you decide
to temp.
Darts
All teeth and brows and
dimples.
Rare joy and meat.
Scratch and chalk. Bracket.
Freed emotion
if you can lick a square.
Bull =sigh= plastic.
Shame glory. V is for end day. Bull
I shit you not.
dimples.
Rare joy and meat.
Scratch and chalk. Bracket.
Freed emotion
if you can lick a square.
Bull =sigh= plastic.
Shame glory. V is for end day. Bull
I shit you not.
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