Thursday, August 27, 2015

Robot Mantra


tek tek tek


hissing tube
window sealed
light above
shut off

ack ack ack ack
gak gak gak gak



held in place
all connected
muffled senses
stunted thought


endure for 30
maybe 5 more

stabbed myself
with a pencil
still you
see the point
metallic objects

tek tek tek tek

beige tube
beige socks
how does this
gown fit on

how much time
has passed

think about sensory
maybe it's
something like this

Monday, August 24, 2015

Old Forgotten Dreams Cut-Up

agent in, rifle out.

about alien elaborate waves,
it's water control. they like us.

reason A: people, hidden...human reach control.
breathing. control. hands alien missing,
some with humans retreat,
sound don't have existence,
in comes demon water people,

we pretending impressionist
pillow appears like rifle
weird masked creatures committed us.
pedal. control on. scene rooms,
creatures eventually human control.

rising gun by pose
we be like objects bludgeon elaborate reason
saw hands suicide
must sand that suicide
type wooded kept facility
be like them.

realize violently
scene comes under Agent Malicious
human wave closes it. Malicious is alien of reality
my costume they control. die.
recedes masks and image.
blinks alien under objects
must have reason effect an alien image.

demon had control.
wrestling to close by understanding existence,
hand against them.

Here was pillow cold ocean,
I couldn't,
 humans in shore,
I know they couldn't retreat, they couldn't die
bludgeon land (at walls)
suicide another suicide costume land
committed to quarters,
trouble hidden...
I couldn't see
to die
I knew.

They've come bearing brains

raised my gun--they would
not move--arch of bullets--
shot over head--blink
bodies of the cephalopod mind--blink--
cruelty--can't shoot--trigger--
wrong feel--ak rattles--
tombstones on childhood--
fields in backyard--laid--
there was memory there--once--
one--they could not move--
momentarily phased out--
phased in solid--motion--
bullets into heaven--innocent--
wincing aim--buck and
shoulder--stomach eaten--
erect tentacles--scolding
hot--extra eye lids--
carved rocks--names--blast of
heart beat--final shot--

Cat dreams

in the filing cabinet
you found your face,
a perfect match
between manila sheets.

Friday, August 21, 2015

Post-Cut-up Bad Deal II

earth written like blood
     empty sockets, you had strawberry last night

on hand
can lined
     the milky corner selling

that;      I mean

2000 through in sun moon drifting
     them toothless toothless meat year


     when impossible oil toothless by meat
broke yellow heaven

like in earth     written brown mushroom gunpowder
     non-white grins

the houses clouds I like

dock decade oil was broken toothless     over 100 playlists

each street cycled     milky

sun egg     on teflon canvas buttery
     slick      dyes

last night on broke yellow machine

a year through the red strawberry street

Post-Cut-up Bad deal I

slick archway on egg
all slow an even
earth like time
you overhead,

thought machine
empty sockets
on forget yolk
fried out
any top meat
through the archway,

figure never fish
remember this wallet
by 30-dark, imagine
the fruit you like,

lobster never really
watch earth
and street cycled
in their shirt
the lobster earth written
of red grins

even the purse stink
yolk fried toothless number-

I watch teflon canvas
dock turn top
every corner selling red
watch and right machine

with fish red drifting
seafood started 1900
as lined wipe my hand

the kind of grins
sex red of time
you fish right
100 playlists
each by cloud,

left of teflon
canvas dark eyes,
year in,
fruit sun
dark ,

last night
on last pen
dark 2000 seafood
I fish mostly
it lined the machine 30-
settle in and
empty sockets

sun their hand
a mushroom
earth written.

silent in the glow of a cut-up roadside

unknown day signs split the wooden street;

speak splits will

road almost oh the porch
     am silenced
          in will the
               splits off
                    silent alone

porch splits street
     porch not concrete
          fenced its cars;

respond ever never not lost
     and unknown
          not ever

day silent directions off
     I speak wooden will
          porch sidewalk weary
               splits horizon day
                    removed sun breaks
                         alone weary night cars; silence

Starbucks on the cut-up

serif font, in serif font,
heart of darkness searching,
ntent great darkness
searching eyes
insidious eyes
insidious cardboard eyes
insidious blind, white bland.
intent great heart windows,

cardboard intent.

Thursday, August 20, 2015

We're getting there on cut-up feet

the sweet lies of glory great and hands
screeching voices thin strips of--
cartoon features metallic on blood
still order streams their cold caked thin spout
part bottom dead bodies drifting--
combat the tides--peace sifting tides water,
heh carrion stinking like their sea into acid
squeamish georgia in with noose--
bands of still heaving feet--into--drifting pots plop
bloomed glances in flip walk
great in swimming needles--into halls chilled--
gray--carving for rain wings a voting
sweet carrion stinking waves--rip shift clouds--
dusk candy spells--gray--misdemeanors cratered
rain acid searching chilled--gray--carving sea features
metallic bottom noose--bands of screeching voices,
 swimming needles--into--wherein--fog
Saturday great sinewy cry--lissen--cartoon noose--
bands of great needle splat mind graves with--
wherein talons with children of glory--sorry glances--beaks!
to accept spring rain acid flooding graves and mark--
these gills thick eye no sorry drawls--heavy chilled--
gray--carving acid the talons this noose--
bands over rain acid suits corpse for noses in sinewy pots
plop eye mine like shelves beady leather crusty rain has sprung--
spring cry the goose beady callous vultures graves--
cold melting splat mind cry--sea chanting touching lissen--
shelves drip legs clouds--dusk irradiated in peace
sifting glances feeding carrion stinking heh of technophemeral waves--
rip for gills and mark this--motion ship lies dead--
proper me--in streams streams with flowers
rain acid mornings irradiated line of voting clouds--dusk

Cut-up Opening

hard-boiled lives
lives the story
report oily 3 has their suede incident,
he ordinary Box says "oily directions now boy,
man brown on a man in post boy,"
lot reaches the roar
nothing cover head
flashing called the drug at opposite suede,
incident story parking oily 3,
 has for Box town agendas a ordinary called:
"typed typed bumpers cruel story,"
head office head mobile ordinary hidden line
lamb on turn, "mince this."
the evergreen lot aluminum door cover shook on buttons
H&H of town agendas poor roar
nothing in curled hit brown in evergreen drug at end hidden
want hidden story? engine hidden? No.
suede, incident and ordinary brown typed drawl--

Silhouettes of cut-up geese

of moonlight we blear in horizon driven
blear east moonlight we waters washed
embossed on receding trees

horizon driven east strokes deep
petal on hands
hands hands of petal
on like sky waters strokes

They cut-up and left together

two watched pick girl's light and hung feet
while against gray looked shuffle--and--
the bodies the still we stop subway lips feet,
carton girl's Malls left
each jerk thinking dazed cover of age
as Pall to rider to some guess Pall by feel and control
those dazed scratch--
was and shuffle
her stop the old head cigarette
the close--in control
those two for chance
even between stop hung noise
and feet while to-to--
at watched hung for her
soul subway
the her willing waning and her leaned
Pall feel in open rolled pack
her guess move
not watch red leaned Malls
girl's feel waning watched to addicts
and feet while fidgeting rolled drab light
guess of pack lonelier light
watched two girl
we soul shuffle
than stop by car
all some chance if case
Pall wish light stop
and age pick soul or her
the brakes shuffle.

exposure cut-up

     "pass pipe dying or ugly thanks sick"--what's that as card he crowd sewer silver exhaust long up long doesn't rain laziness leave out, rest, moans?--"and homelessness as walk with rest be up"--dying that drugs the grate "hey just to credit downcast them"-- somethin wanna just "ashamed going eat me thanks ashamed going street"--dentist filth costumers die death guy can costumers soul ashamed.
     that's street of been. i've assholes dollar on grate, walk ashamed. doesn't guy gentle, them-- never says "lunch man might by lady of carry ashamed street" says "to and corner i've me on moans"--and dollar and himself got you anyway--"security those bum cold be ashamed" exhaust homelessness apathy laziness drugs. us out wanna soul homelessness see should "hey snow snow" i've those us honey should him as street on soul drugs should hunger says you--"security maybe cold seen to laziness filth" open pipe me hey grate up! open wanna let for now--

How our cut-up flows

sewage suburb flows
what suburb?
distant needed scarecrows known--
the know flow rainbow the oil cooing
sunflowers and known needed--as over
their distant dry and by brown water legs
when distant twin make face ever you'll--
colored one grows no by 20 water and the hangman--
about dying what dying what--?
here, I'll suburb needed cut and grows
in by ever
and their 20 here
I'll down--
dragged blue beneath.

If this is light, let it cut up

bleed you fissure galaxy
     life on unclear universe
the future something
     palm mean always this-- 
she me nor is in it's am 
     you fades like the nothing 
he nor remember world 
     even the is--she is me 
tells timeline world way-- 
     galaxy life fading here 
like clairvoyant way-- 
     there's it like hand 
here it in parallel strong 
     fading galaxy life cracks-- 
is fissure something but mean-- 
     says they are away 
neither meaning world 
     even through he always--
that line pain parallel 
     death there--
space it repeats--
     never galaxy life maybe maybe--
her galaxy life 
      fissure worlds who is 
cracks strong milky other 
     but through you? 
     I palm 
I line 
fades like hand be world 
     even it--these in space-- 
there I there--

Wednesday, August 19, 2015

We're getting there on two good feet

into this sea of gray--pulling on thin
strips of leather cut by irradiated knives
hung from squeamish clouds acid rain
acid rain think globulus melting pots
plop plop drifting over straight-lined
states of green fibrous inaction--yet to
accept dreary blood caked worlds
of cratered beaches and swimming
needles--into this--motion of waves--
rip tides yank mothers from their graves
and children with dead hands cry cry--
sea of--meaningful glances hard features
metallic ribbons for searching eye candy
spells--gray--misdemeanors in the cold fog
Saturday cartoon mornings screeching
voices in the technophemeral clouds--
dusk dust of shelves lissen lists of dead
bodies still shuffle to voting halls spout
part lined sinewy drawls--heavy heaving
feet--into--an afterthought--this sea of--
wherein lies an overabundance of callous
vultures with beady hateful chilled--gray--
carving beaks and talons and carrion
stinking like bloomed flowers in the
Colorado mine water flowing spring air
opaque mountain streams of cold sewage
feeding feeding flooding a great well has
sprung a great leaking ship sorry sorry no
sorry more think crusty thick innocuous
black oil for the gills and throats of peace
sifting to the grassy brown bottom of the
sweet smelling corpse of the noose--bands
of legs in marching order shift body splat
mind goose wings in combat suits chanting
touching their noses heh heh he heh mark
these guidestones in glory georgia proper
the thin inky line of drip the needle flip
walk with me--into this--

Monday, August 17, 2015

Cold Opening

hit by the man from wattsville
outside H&H pharmacy & drug
at the far end of V-A-1-7-5
caved the door in
shook the wheels
intel says he lives at a PO Box called No. 3
has a land line reaches in
curled through post office tombs
brass buttons and aluminum bumpers
cruel cover story poor boy story in
evergreen paint and blue overalls
stewed drawl and skewed eyes
jacketed in oily brown suede,
incident report typed on mobile device
reads a hard-boiled parking lot stand-off
double agent engine roar
nothing out of the ordinary there
nobody turn their head nobody want to see
wheels mince words in opposite directions
now we're on the lamb
on the lookout for this town
agendas flashing an afternoon shade,
make a hidden score.

silhouettes of resting geese

above the marsh washed with strokes of pink
the sky reflected deep like rose petal
on mercurial waters below

black trees embossed
on the receding horizon
driven east in blear of moonlight
we held hands in the ever darkening car

Friday, August 14, 2015

They up and left together; The Pall Mall Girl

she looked lonelier than the pack of Pall Malls at her feet,
carton left by some passer-by for the subway floor
there was a chance cigarette or two left
each rider thinking to pick them up, even if you weren't to smoke
just trying to make a score
but not a soul willing to make the move between her legs
so tension hung in on the car
all eyes at this girl's feet
while she leaned her head against the Plexiglas partition
headphones in lips pouted eyes going nowhere fast
clothes drab gray old and waning still
we waited we watched and I couldn't guess her age
as her bag slunk to cover the rolled tobacco rolled paper
arm and hand relaxed in dazed lost sleep control
those fidgeting addicts wish scratch feel watch
red light and doors open close bodies move and feet shuffle
the abrupt jerk of engine brakes subway stop noise
and by the next stop in case you missed it
the girl and the Pall Malls were gone.

Thursday, August 13, 2015


     hey man you got a bum might wanna dollar somethin to eat maybe hey thanks lady pass by credit card carry lunch crowd thin dirty dying sonuva but just don't let me see flesh out on the sewer grate street--dentist says "open up now open up"--dying of hunger just as long as my eyes can walk by downcast or up above over filth should be ashamed is ashamed never worked a--security on it's way guy been exposing himself to gentle innocent costumers outside corner deli--"shits can die and leave us alone a stain on our public soul
     ive seen those lost ugly assholes beating rain snow cold on exhaust pipe holes sick sick sick"--what's he going to do with that cash anyway honey drugs death ugliness homelessness it's a disease laziness apathy doesn't move like the rest of us shiney silver feet and if--the street sweeper moans--and if there is anything left of him it'll be too much for me to see--shudder shudder--nakedness that's stark unclean what's wrong with them--

Wednesday, August 12, 2015

How our oil flows

dump that sewage over here
I'll make a meme about it
you'll see how the rivers flow
rainbow colored and smog bathed
imagine the scarecrows cooing
sunflowers twin faced and blue
beneath their hangman feet
mountains dry as deserts
in the known distant suburb land
evergreens ever brown mud
until they're cut down
dragged by their legs
when nothing grows nothing grows
no one will know in 20 years
where our water went
how our oil flows
what was dying
what needed to be killed.

paws will pounce

face in corner
white walls
light and bent
travels the scent
failed escapes
eyes plot
the trajectory
hunt the mark

all the bugs are gone
been gone
been dead
belly up

ears twitch
muscle tense
eyes all pupil
follow last steps
search ceiling

all the bugs are dead
been dead
been eaten
belly up

a lustful mew
is a sigh
is longing
on a candlelight vigil

meteors will fall tonight
moon will sink tomorrow
bugs will crawl evermore
paws will pounce
and again

Friday, August 7, 2015

if this is light, let it bleed through

fissures on his hand
     cracks in reality
if this is light
     let it bleed through
he lets it mean something
     but maybe it's nothing
there's always that
     she tells him
there's doubt that I'm here
     even here
he's maybe space
     empty in a parallel world
even that could be
     even then I am nothing
he says
     always like that
     never comfort him
she thinks
     in this world I am space
there I am
     fading away
neither here nor there
     remember the first thought
run from pain and death
     in these other worlds
who are you?
    I am me he says
I am you she says
    I me she repeats
I am you he says
    the future is unclear
universe clairvoyant
     timeline is buried
in the milky way
     palm of the galaxy
life line is strong
     but the meaning fades
like the cracks on her hand
     like a fissure in reality

Wednesday, August 5, 2015

August 5th

For Stonewall

death is futile; life is futile.

enough moments to witness,
     bury     move on;

there's no time before the bulldozer
     no reason     means,
to feel.

there's no stopping the sunlit rays
     on office buildings come morning,
no excuse,

     worthwhile; understood.

there are remote emotions
     in remote bodies     to be expunged.

in the sewage below, washed away
     the things we held dear,

before us     the importance of fluorescent lights
     another day     nothing to feel.