Friday, June 11, 2010
Almost blooms ride bikes
wear down shoes
with paper sleeves,
knees rubbed known,
on by as parade balloons
graffiti peck upon foreheads.
made most mostly of dust.
Rundowns ask for lighters
set fires, so and “she”
him impart cues with
of the wrist;
watch to what heights this
delight with a doberman
bears a resemblance
to empty spots in photo books.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Monday, April 26, 2010
Thursday, April 22, 2010
naked loose leaf
oblong scribbled in dark.
A Turner turned over onside towards winter-numb
thumbs pressed against, stainless volt; from, or after the meal starts,
the oval eye rips ripples
(as you were) a splotch,
—danced, goes my line mumbles nothings as signs above a dot.
Birthday lists (firsts of many I’s) notebooks pile higher, adored and
us (masquerade a busily boy)
with horns as Beelzebub
around a thorn bush kept secretly as pressed to mourn;
a speck about the milky white—which alter? Why, with much
site: imperfect device
in negatives the nightness scolders—
my lens no more as torn by a BB or foam flown inside; order.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Friday, April 16, 2010
Monday, April 12, 2010
to find a hand with no stake under
the wake of a gabbing bunch of drunks,
I, one, also unsure of what knitting
had come undone in your dress,
swore bats escaped from beneath
so the bell could slowly toll over,
while we witnessed (whatever the
opposite of a hole is) unthought lump
sums of tummies unable to consume.
Soon the room came back to, and
bats had taken to attacking the
waitresses with only ears, a warm
unsaid word turned to lifetimes of
abuse; old soul songs recalled to record,
past the rips of the bong. An ashtray
for later, unprotected butts wait in empty
glasses and paper to dissolve those who
were never there (in makeshift wings)
to unravel what (at best or worst) may
potentially reoccur. Now Dawn, again,
has risen the dream undone. Now we
drift in infinite bliss for the moment.
You, too, in the light begin unbeing.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Monday, March 29, 2010
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Two smoke stacks puff children by the dozens
And ya’ll are obviously crazy, just listen to that drawl
As we drag a yellow finch through surround sound
Up and down a backwards headlong, up until a
Michigander Cherokee slips a drip of lemon in
The coffee and two creams and a water, again?
Will it be another minute, or would you prefer it
Go directly to the company waste bin? $5.98, plus tip!
And the Hulk’s face deep in dirt in the front yard
Of some middle class family who can’t keep track of idols.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Monday, March 15, 2010
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Not derived from any senses, but
The end of any sense at the expense
Of an experience. Everything else
Comes from chance encounters, chance
Flounders when it comes to expectation.
The lick of an envelope, shoved into a box
To be sent off elsewhere, where it will be
Received by a less excited party, to then
Get thrown with everything else that’s
Been sitting on the counter. It envelops
Space, until eaten by a can, where forgotten
Materials enjoy the sunlight from the top
Of the trash mountain. Burns in an explosion
Sending off fresh embers. New suns, which
Revisit with a stamp saying return to sender.
Remember, that the end is built in. No accident
That you can’t encourage a greater difference.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Saturday, February 13, 2010
sliced, this is your entirety, visibly awake
and blinks in threes. Visibly awake, and misses
something. But inside, unpeeled, waits a squishy
wheel in constant spin. It does not need its other
end. It does not need to stop again. It only needs
a color such as this, to be squeezed and squeeze
and spit seeds into a bin. Spits a sour drop into
a shattered glass and begs and begs for another
passing comment about what an orange is, and
everything that center could possibly have meant.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
I don’t even wanna think about the drink, some mix of
beta, gold, iridescent of the overhead lights hung low. Swirls
of small waves. Stunts, only cheap escapes. Motherless conception, at best.
I do wish the ocean held your eyes, and the reflection of
a slow rise on a bitter orange morn. Vast enough to yearn for more.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
dog god is a sunset god is a little old lady god is flower god is
god dog is a good dog no matter what the color dog is flower
is largely nocturnal and only where populations are relatively
high does one see them frequently in the daytime rarely one
getting fat is the common name for any large member of a family
of rodents the best choice for a new roommate for an adult male
on fire i'll be camping with no circus what's the buzz exclusive
reports gadafy's big tent is no circus august 8 not worth purchasing
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
a tree tilts and splinters with a
whip-crack of drums on bark.
Wolves decide quietly, instead
devour dinner under a shady canopy,
which soaks street lights up like a cotton
shirt does blood. Hark, a soft thought
littered rises and sways: in what way does
wind wisp old leaves away, wipe
roads clean of any ambiguous destination?
Might we travel together down all
trails, tread long laughs as a quarter
in motion lands on both heads and tails?
Or would wizened women and men
run headlong backwards towards themselves
for mere instant gratification, list worries
and regrets upon a napkin folded in small doses,
clean messes made when minds spill over
from too much dwelling on empty spaces.
Between bare limbs, arms outstretched across oceans
of brown grass, a sliver of hope diverges.
A vessel sits void of any intimate urges.
Take the latter, forget the former. These thoughts
will only assassinate, as if time lasts forever.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
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