I love your gray cat what-s-his-name

what's the name without his legs
living in a tree stump in kesselwood forest

there are no badgers on the east coast

they haven't emigrated
                                     but enough about
me and what in the hell is it like to climb
below the cavern walls

probably in 1983

first time I noticed you by the tin can water fountain
banging on the corrugated sides

what's that material
                                if he's talking about plastic

I wonder why?  there wasn't fuck to give
to dead things because you'd have to bury the whole fucking thing

poor quality static makes everything
stage-like played through tape on a VHS

what's gotta give name on the fanzine
to cancelled children's programming

this place is not the gig it's the aforementioned before

chain-link prequel to the fence bitten through

what's it like to chew on the thing
to swallow the broken tubes

fuck if I know about any of this
of any of this fuck if i know

Super group; or semi-colon

can;t drink on the j;ob

fuck in buttered rice

it doesn;t exist; this character is like

the end of the world

the instruction booklet
is a training regime; sucking up the nail

gu;n

fuck the laugh track in the live show
the audience is a bullet in the cock; farming

is a fictitious waste
spilling out the humanoid power plant

stumble upon it; put the nee;dle on it

play the spinning flat ass earth

you can fuck with the midd;le; you can die

great text messages

Drawn lines; or drainage ditch

your pencil runs down the page
marking the journal for removal

a wide angle X

but drawn like a seat belt strap
pulled over the eyes

there were none

they go

there were none
                          without two lanes

not a car drives by
built like a trash truck
to pick up the razors
left rusty in
drainage gutters
cemented into street

not a hand turns
in any aspect ratio

not a mouth mimes
where'd it go

Maggot; or one coat of paint

They tell me

Paint these walls white
when I'm done

But
when I do I see maggots

writhing in rough spaces

When you wipe your finger over them
leaving trails of caulk and smooth

You smother me in their bodies
I watch them replace my teeth

Biting into the walls
despite of myself

I plant them deep

a shirt we could not afford

we didn't read our fortunes
     because the tiles were supernaturally
clean
we pressed the cookie against our teeth
     waiting for a phone to
dry
we soaked the paper with our pen
     forwarding the bones to the mortgage
lender
we rested the morsels against our tongues
     hoping they would dry before the first
bite
we would not hear about the future
     in which we would come to
live
we wrapped the blood from the feast
     in the shirts we could not
afford
we did not believe in words
     we questioned what they would mean to
us

two chapters

two chapters on an open page working their way away from each other

diverging into two threads the story goes in its own directions

from this point the sun looks back and forth over the word
                                                             fading imperceptibly the pages

          the future is left out to disappear

          the past is left over to vanish

from a distance the chapters unfurl as a single long page

the letters make thin unbroken lines like marching ants
                                                             their hills covered by overturned covers

the mystery unresolved is the title read backwards in gold

Green; a film

Quick flash

Cut to:

the spinach field gnashed between my toes     the blood flowing

green in the lithe vapors      

                                         that from above feature the characteristic

of a soggy river's delta

Fade to:

outstretched arms for balance     ambiguous arms

follow the perfect horizon of elbow rising to forearm gently downhill
to hands     green haze of the sun   
                                                      hallucinatory illusion of brushed
fingernails     fleshy like stewed greens

Rehash

Zoom out:

the imbalanced chemicals that circulate through the brain

plastic wrapped in flesh     armored by the skull

dripping green tints of sweat

                                               hazel reflections of

post-induction of tears     transform the sky into a green void

muffle the soft steps     paint the arms like a forest growth

reaching across toward the break     darker greener     darker

The End.

147 Twinkle

typing in strange, exotic places,
I have yet to discover the algorithm,
a destiny in digital immortality,
tho the white page of death has blinked many times
and pulled from me pieces of ancient signs,
arranged in blue-lined characters,
exhumed from burials along fiber-optic lay lines.

Worm.

darkness is how i see the outside of the car
darkness as if the terribleness of the inside of the car grew &
ranged outward in a cone shape
one that had been split and folded over several times

from all its softened sides it reached out with infinite lines
it engulfed the world
the inside out blackness of the car
metal frames surging it begot my dream

inside as my perception expands the only light was your drag
and the acrid smoke of green that floated flatly against the curled edges
marking out your shadow
then the light passing into my hand
my mouth
the taste bitter and drunk like the car filled my lungs

i thought aren't I going to work?
aren't I driving?
why is it so dark and why does the car feel inside out
prolapsed and growing larger beyond the window
becoming another inconceivable untenable space
burning between my fingers silenced by my breath

VA DMV: A classic picture show

When looking out at the rainbow
That rainbow which descends on bleak buildings
Those buildings branded DMV
To wonder at all the sorted numbers called lives mingling
To wonder at all the photos taken of their static faces
It's hard to imagine that a single thought by humanity has ever been profound 

Necessary
Revolutionary
Borne with grand design
Imagination
It's hard to envision the assembled parts

aligned in each matching chair

as anything other than rats building their own cages

Wind.

they've left the world

         all of them

listen

         they haven't made a sound

there used to be a continued hum

      recurrent in the background

now I am alone

       they've taken the voice with them

absence

      comforts like a window pane

tho it is only glass

      I can also break

like a sheet protects the body

     from phantom chill

I was alone

       where they had gone

listen

      we'll never know

they can't tell us what they've heard

Glass.

ghosts stalk my cat in the dark corners of our apartment

every once in a while he'll notice them

with widening pupils he focuses on the void just over my shoulder
where phantoms lurk like the deep circles under my eyes

bruised shadows hidden behind a pane of glass

No.

grown deep into ground
vision moved like a glacier
over the boulder field
bringing with it an old ice age

with every glare
the rocks bore witness
to my deliberate advance
my existence
they believed in it
as movement

it was this or the sky

which was deeper blue?

stones that crumbled to my endless breath

death crawled on its belly across the earth

the very cliff-faces were novels
to my impending glory
I drank heavy from the history of the world
growing into my own tomb
god pulled galaxies out of my frozen maw
chewing time
like a billion years worth of dying stars

VASE.

There's this          poem

On my bathroom wall

It only comes to me in the afternoons

When the sun slants in

Stretching the figure of a glass flower vase

Dashing its heart against the white         wall

Looking like ashes

Smeared in my stare

Film.

If you close your eyes
     the sound of a microfilm reel
     being rewound was the sound
     that began like a dream
the cancer that followed me
     was that sound and it floated
     alongside me as a physical perspective
     from which I watched outside
watching a someone that wasn't me
     that had been designated as me
     the cancer following him around
     tho I could only imagine what it looked like
I could not see it or I was inside it
     or it was just out of reach needing someone
     to speed up the reel
the film beginning to click and snap
     as if it was splitting in two
     the wheels ignored kept spinning
     waiting for me to die but I didn't
I just looked up at me seeing through me
     the perspective of me seeing through the body
     I closed my eyes his eyes it had eyes
     and he sighed