Monday, November 19, 2018

the unreliable forge/ an easy bake oven

the cake is finished when electrified. wine toasts
over inky coals
                          from which is used to write names.
were they to find the remnants of the book
rats would drown in the crumbs. eat gray pages.
make the clouds look like sky starting at the last
edges.
            burnt to gradient images left
in church phases. the cross of stainless
steel. stained glass partitions.
the cake is edible when digested as is
the masses. the physical equation of
remorse. ending in remittance. the seven foot
thick ocean of icing.
                                  the terror of sand
as the waves of sugar hit the shore. the deafening
bluster of wind chimes.     the binding washing
out the ill heated oven. heaving
heaving retching. rewarding the starved and
the sated.

Monday, November 5, 2018

the perfect me

know that
                 there's a mannequin in my chair

those waxy kind of thoughts
those waxy kind of cheeks

involuntarily replacing me

the shrouded cathedral
                                     draped over melting plastic
resembles my rib cage

the cracked marble
the discolored ivory

the pearl pretending eyes
                                         i no longer have to
eat

he's cultivated all the refuse
                                             hidden it away

inside of me
i can be opened by magic

a can opener
is magic

something soft stabbed into my
intestines
                while I watch for vanished lines

without knees I will walk into
forever places
                       hung with hallowed lights

they will preach florescent

the meals will be of sawdust stars
the wall dreary old cement

I will paint them with the graffiti equivalent
to the years of my life
                                    I will be of plastic casings

a body to sell

until we are washed out
until we are formed into shiny islands
in a retching, gelatinous, blue sea

Friday, November 2, 2018

BBQ

these very brief interactions
     excavated layman tracks digging in

the works of a hundred mainstream scholars
     the antiquity of the human race

we are aware of missing things
locked in boxes
government seals

how did they label the desert
sifting through the sand

sound visiting the lonely hills
as they move south

managing to open the cardboard box
      picking out the hearts

placing them on the sea of stoves
      baking them before our eyes

Wednesday, October 17, 2018

made up of stuff

in this carton
     all the same everythings
always     right      side           up

even the dead things. are left
standing
                laughing     crying

stuff & worried about. their
internal processes

especially their bowels. they were
in focus
              like the growing face of mold
rotted and dotting the exterior limits

similarly afflicted with life. heavily
magnified by
                        our continued
and numerous     failures

chewed upon by the already
gnarled cardboard of their

existence. at all corners the sun fell
like sunday morning drunks. pretending

the terror of monday's work. the terror
of the battle shaking the last infinitesimal
chill from the air
                            from out this carton. the cool
glass breaks. the long unintelligible

road.

Wednesday, October 3, 2018

Shape of things

she placed a heart beside me
drawing the outline     where i fell
you know?--i don't care

i don't know     i wouldn't know
where to go
                     i kept my tv in a bottle
floating out to sea     down the river out
of sight
              into some trout face haven

into some brackish gully     never
open

          waves high hang clouds
her eye     beside me     where i placed
those old dreams
                             little word worlds
a heart in the shape of candy     where
we ate as the sun stayed put--long tears

like lines of traffic in the night cut
the desired shape     into landscape

dams make way for lakes
                                          lost habitats
she played ragged lung behind me
breathing heavy endless colors
endless graffiti     a palette of heavy things

--i don't understand     i can't go wrong

i am not nearly as aware as i should have been

Monday, October 1, 2018

Accident

(they) were playing
(they were) not for what will
   be
(they were shattered)
they were red blood
they were before the (stop)
(they were) could not be were they
   to slow down
(they) were broken into living
   pieces
they were (not to) make it out
   alive
(they) were to be spun from the
   wheel
they were to be (removed)
   forever
they were to be not even
   (remembered)
the were to be not even
   (mourned)
they crossed back as ever
   into grinding machine
(they were torn apart)
   by flattening engines
they were never to (be)
   again
(they were a mere moment
   from death's crushing weight)
they were never to grasp
   that (feeling)
they were made meaningless
   by time's threads

Wednesday, September 26, 2018

Coyote Cries

Coyote follows their footprints
into town.
alone they make the same
cackling sound.
Coyote sniffs the crushed
remains

              tire tread to brain.

windows down to catch
the scent.
truck kicks up mortuary
dust.
Coyote barks license plate
names.

             carry the body to its
final resting place.

dead tons of rust and steel.
Coyote as the moon fell.
wakes the sun to sing its funeral
spell.

          welcome the morning dirge.

another world and similar rotted
smell.
Coyote casts a last sad
spell.

Wednesday, August 22, 2018

first look

i saw you for the first time

you were pressed against the inner wall
of your mother's womb your forehead
meeting the dark

your eyes were black circles without sight

they brought your life to me
on a colorless screen
                                   vibrating
at the sound of your heart

i could make out your mouth
from which i pretended a faintest
smile

they pointed to you
                                your feet held above
head     blocking clear view of the spine

the first disobedient act

they told me
                     here are your
hands your feet your legs
your arms your lungs
your intestines
your ribs

i watched your profile obscured
by machinery and graphs
                                          numbers and name
removed from the reality of
                                             fingers lips nose
toes

i was left on the outside removed

i was left to be propelled through
time and space
                         confronted with your
burgeoning life

their proof was a starmap of your every
inside every outside your every
                                                   move
your future place

as evidence they gave me
glossy images of your bones

Tuesday, August 14, 2018

rain drips

*
each blur drops from sky
reflected in its obscurity
the last day
*

*
a puddle to the past
threatens to boils over its edge
memories like sandbags
struggle defiantly in its wake
*

*
a trail turns off the rocky peak
taking with it the lives
seeking to challenge its fragile
immortality
*

Monday, August 13, 2018

standing along the road as cars pass

headlights rise like moonlight

over the night
                       illuminating the trees
that shadow          curve around each

wrong turn
                   the violet metallic tint of the car
marries the starless sky

the cityscape in the distance
                                              the effortless

pollutants
                 the dome of the world contracts
the vacant universe

a rush of gasoline fumes

the nothing earth

Tuesday, July 31, 2018

old memory

i might have left it

where i am go
ing it's like a deep
static tv green

you don't see those much
anymore

that purple wake
in green static

where i might have left it

but i am unsure how to turn the
dial

you don't see that much anymore
apart from the zenith repair shop
on bishop avenue

where the old static dies

and where it was left
when i was gone

all green and purple outlined
in yellow on that tv screen

Tuesday, July 24, 2018

Lake Effect

forward     the image groan
die above 400 feet of valley
they flooded it 100 years ago
buried in 39 seconds

your     blueish skin
resembles sun painting the sky
against the gray waves
the cliff side is empty
it sends your blank face back
the rocks are a mirror
reflecting the other side

death     is aluminum
a toy above severed trees
their stumps are green graves
that become eyes as you pass
the lake an open mouth of god
meant to swallow choke and moan

Monday, June 25, 2018

into which i happen to go fuck myself

names in light of lottery
    legs into a hollow stew

after hours
    hanging nights     beside my bed
cried in the bathrooms

echoes off     dirty tile

a beige puzzle of wall
     bandage it over with mandala sighs
the lines have sweated
faces dented          rewarded

a steaming nirvana     over the toilet

flush     this many times is what I've dreamt

painting graffiti washing stickers

with my vomit

Wednesday, June 20, 2018

and some of the coins were black

america

a lot of people pick up your change in the street

you've suffered for those many

                                                   likes

a fucking multitude of pain

children in cages are paint by numbers

the scene

                 is enraged

my money is on the subtle march of time
and you say who gives a fuck

we got guns
and an invitation to a barbecue

charring the bones will rid you of the bodies

and clear out the stench

a mouse carcass on my stoop
                                                impregnated by flies
it looks on a map like your full hips
your round lips
                          your bulbous shape

I vomited on it
                         before I cleaned it up

I fondled the coins deep set
in my pocket
                      I just now

remembered to wash
my hands

Thursday, June 14, 2018

Sip

when i drink from the fountain
my hair twirling in drain     pushed by tides
     i see     i am kept alive
taking sustenance like livestock
corralled in my squared up     world
kept hydrated     perpetually working off of
     dehydration
pulling like from plumbed water
drying my every     eye
peering into the mortal bin
dripping into pipes
drowning     sip for sip.