she
she kept a hidden armoury in her bag and made her trousers from the curtains of the dead
she carried on smiling and nodding as if in a foreign country painfully grasping a pineapple
painting faces on nectarines to elevate hours of boredom she was never lonely
she attended maths courses to find the patterns and cut up sentences to allocate new meanings
Eatmorewords's Blog 
that was an amatory gourd in her purse
she had quite a love for the theatrical
her trousers made from curtains
a clear sign of her limitations
“I can only wear the curtains of the dead”
was it a personal limit or one inherent in her age ?
she also made soup from curtains
or should I say curtain colored water ?
late at night she would sit in front of the piano and consume curtain soup
she had this weird thing about curtains and her pet piano
lacking animality she was ungodly chaste
world famous recoil from physical lust
she would steal sexy looking vegetables from the market and bury them in the yard
she saved the soul of many an imaginative housewife
insert experiments were just wrong (she had caught her sister with a bumpy pickle once)
excessively cultivated she had an international tongue
she could speak Stalin like a sailor on crack
linguistic wet nursing made French men weep
the language of logical realism
string stretched from pins like free verse Freudian
Dadaist diaper material dependent on grammatical whims
explicit math classes were too much
the instructor was from Paris and his numbers didn’t add up
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Reblogged this on multiplemichael.
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the soups were sustenance to sustain a weak body
no teeth
lost the ability to chew
no teeth to grind
like ampethamine nights
maudlin dawn seen through curtains parted like heavy metal hair
teeth that once reminded her of piano keys numerous and monochrome
neighbours would remind her of the bumpy pickle incident shed protest it was sister, not thee but the pointing fingers would point and words were spread
sex myth becomes agreed reality
Stalin removed Trotsky
Lenins death bed pleas fell on death ears
the invention of maths
carpets fashioned to replace the curtains
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so you really are a DETECTIVE
only family members knew about her teeth
many a night she has rubbed her gums like an autumn landscape
the previous splendor nothing now but a mockery
rude children told her to chew on broken glass
they were no better than insects
they could neither reason synthetically or analytically
only one little girl knew percentages remain constant
she spoke with a hiatus between vowels
her father was noted for the removal of dead things
organ-grinders street musicians anything or anyone
if the spirit was separated then he would spring into action
a conclusion without having to stop for thought
decay increased the cost
beautiful girls were nearly free
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I’m no detective I just wear the right hat anyone could do this
and those girls
those children
were prissy little things just
skin and bones and teeth and nails and bows
grazed knee scarlet
spoilt in the wrong ways
they picked up the broken glass and offered it to retired magicians in exchange for magic tricks
she was the molasses girl
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she loved the BEATLES more than sweet schematic versions of syrup
at her young age they were just starting to sing “I wanta rattle”
it sounded more like “I wanta rattul” if that makes any sense
the BEATLES are missing from our lives now
there was a tremendous concentration of horsepower in those boys
horsepower for love they were modern jesus puppies
they tried so hard to be avant garde
social repression bombs
to abandon the restrictions of common man
push pins surrounding the blind spots
push pins without quotation marks
artistic soft push pins that were useless
logic is the king of the kingdom
it must prove and prove endlessly
numbers know no partition
number mingling leads to mysticism
number nine number nine
no one remembers the poor souls in forced labor camps
at night you could hear the misery
it was a form of satanic music
the notes were footprints
they are walking on our souls
wake jesus from his bedchamber
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she never watched films that stared aliens the thought of life on other planets scared her till the leaves fell and the trees were naked – she shivered at the
thought of alien life on a ball of rock the thought of this made her bones ache but she spend nights sketching hybrid bodies, oval heads, opal eyes, drawings till the pencil became nubs – feverish – pencil shavings piling up – she did the math –
she knew he was cheating sending correspondence to relatives of the labour camp victims she sent letters forged in rooms with no curtains she sent pins, poisonous
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out of the sarcophagi and into the frying pan
she went to school with Spielberg and worked closely with him on the movie
ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE
she laid the groundwork for the thought:
THINKING ABOUT THE PAST CHANGES THE FUTURE !!!
simulated reality became simulated reality to her
she was blinded by Spielberg Science
she secretly thought of herself as Ligeja of Poe fame
she wanted to die of a romantic wasting disease and leave Spielberg in agony
to watch him suffer as she had suffered all those years
she at the hands of barbers hangmen vagabonds high school sweethearts
males who would distill melt coagulate sublimate filter and sometimes precipitate her
minute by minute hour by hour her naked body would be tossed around
SHE WAS A SUBMISSIVE ANSWER TO AN ARROGANT QUESTION
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harsh people with big heads and big eyes
bear down on her
like she is a number two about to drop
she carries within herself elements of weakness
and inadequacy that sap
her creative powers
and that creativity is not generic
she as an individual should be able to stand tall
ABSOLUTE SIGNIFICANCE NOW !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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life on other planets or rocks covered in fur
one must question the amount of salt in their blood
oceanic salt with sharp facets
stars resemble salt crystals
milky dispersion in utensils
corrosive powers can be dangerous
cut the creature in ALIEN and you got acidity
knucklebones those damn aliens
throw them in the river of time
and let them drown in oblivion
derelicts of the shipwreck
become derelicts of memory
milled as portraits and then discarded
written in pencil and then erased
EARTH IS THE BODY OF GOD
WE STAND ON CHRIST
WITH OUR GUILT
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aged weatherman proposed that he had seen it all – new alphabets seen through opal eyes
a new direction away from…from
but into the new – craving vitality only found in yet to be discovered spores – under moon rock on a distant planet – up
up up
and over there where gods are replaced everyday by fridge freezers, chipped skateboards, the frayed hem of a dead curtain
we mother cried rust
her father scratched his fears into oak
there is a margin for errors but the errors in the margin crossed the line and blurred
the DEVIL is in the detail she repeated as she tried to count the grains of salt her blood under a microscope she invented new worlds,
granular and sweeeeeeet
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well, all your aged weathermen come down here to southern florida
and change their last names to things like sweetpea or yellowcake
and start preaching new alphabets as they email joan rivers
meanwhile the wind blows the rain falls the sun shines
today it will be humid hot with a possibility of a downpour
how difficult is that ?
oh, by the way 289 people were murdered last night
we think it was bullets
goat dung never makes the news
famous movie stars often have goat dung in the corners of their minds
I thought I saw some under Obama’s fingernails once
I wonder if he ever double dated at a bingo hall ?
………..breaking news, there was absolute tomfoolery today OBAMA AT THE BINGO HALL
you are 100% correct that the devil is in the detail
SHE (remember she) OFTEN WONDERED IF HEAVEN WILL BE A HAPPY PLACE
a life of carnality and delinquency on earth
what will that weigh at the judgment scale ?
what price that boldness on judgment day ?
you mentioned that she drew images of aliens
she also produced caricatures of jesus
one of her favorites was an image John saw in his Patmos vision
the blast of a trumpet and the sound of mighty waters
jesus had white wool-like hair
flames shot from his eyes
a sword protruded from his mouth
nothing out of the ordinary
she used a #2 pencil
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the scales may be tipped easily
she couldn’t rest
what if her lack of obedient attention to the bingo hall air conditioner filter
was what sent her south?
what if she missed a single spore ?
could she be perfect unto death ?
was there a truckload of manna in her future ?
what will her pet name from jesus be ?
all these questions and no answers
late at night she would grind her teeth
her neighbors were troubled and listened to loud industrial funk 24/7
they were into Nascar push pins
Sterling Marlin push pins were the bomb
no one knows what happened to Sterling
one day he just drove off the track and that was the end of him
not another single word
some people say they saw him in porno movies but that’s not true
Sterling was a decent fellow
he didn’t even know who Anton LaVey was
much less date his daughter
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Anton LaVey was tanned mingling with retired weather men – incognito – hidden under accupuncture pins English newsreaders bake in Florida sun – their felt tip name tags melt in your sun – it’s makes a change from the Biblical storms experienced on hill and dale where images of Jesus are shaved into the sides of sacrificial sheep –
sinister farmers on lonely hills amongst high winds
the death toll was repeated on a rolling news scroll bar
the death toll was a combination of:
gunshots
boredom
car crash
animal stampedes
inertia
imbibing of poisonous metals
you get the picture?
Obama rejected coincidence demanded the bingo caller call his numbers DEMANDED THIS
– his secret gulags, orange suited Stalinesque managed by Joan Rivers – a funny sketch no doubt
almost as funny as NASCAR and its insistence on going round and round and round and round and round and round and round and round and round and round and round and round and her brain slipped into neutral
to a happy place free of delinquency, depravity, cow shit, famous people and their famous faces…a world of #2 pencils and push pin landscapes
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they found a tumour in her – her being the she we mentioned –
the satellite directly above her scalp spied through clouds space geography mountains skin follicles a million atoms – spied and found it there – computer coded data send back invisibly to sterile rooms where the stethoscope confirmed what the space eye knew
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that’s funny, that exact satellite found a tumor on my Uncle Innuendo and he had been dead and buried for two years……..possibly petrified tumors count
Joan Rivers just blogged that she was fearful of masquerade slippage
talk about a tight allegiance with falsehood
through knife, sword, and chastening times Joan has stood strong
although her heart may be made of stone
she gave 29 cents to the tribulation period relief fund
“watch, therefore; Joan, for ye know not what hour your lord doth come”
SHE who has no name yet you know of whom I speak
the girl with the fear of other beings living on distant planets
or rocks covered with fur
or heartburn with serpent gas
she is far too serious !!!
when she was young her parents dressed in baboon outfits
and tried to scare her masturbation habit away
she had only gotten good at the circle circle then hornet sting pleasure game
that was a terrible experience when the baboons jumped into her bedroom
she had just gotten herself worked up
no dry lips in that hot pocket
her hand was like a Nascar race
round and round and round
she had never seen baboons before
or cheap ape costumes with fake shag carpet hair
her first thoughts were racial rape related
her second thoughts were flying saucer abduction related
later she privately chuckled that two baboons were the first people to see her monkey
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the monkey sketch was immense – the weight of it, heavy like rain soaked curtains –
their simian pelt, strands stuck together with biological junk – fat detectives extracted baboon hair with tweezers – maybe the final clue in the case?
The best fucking coffee in the precinct.
Joan Rivers email is spam proof – her allegiance is to scalpel wielders – Within the folds of 1000 faces / taught skin ready to split / so taught you see through to her brain – but from the folds of
skin emerge the lost planes of the Bermuda Triangle.
her triangle, direct lineage to her monkey
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sometimes gentlewomen will pretend to be fat detectives
illiterate men cannot read baboon hair
nor appreciate its value in the sight of God
one wonders why Cain and Abel weren’t thrown in the ditch at an early age
why bother raising a corpse and a murderer ?
birds poop sorrows losses sickness pain
deformity knocks on each door
strange combinations and linkages
push pins of self-realization
the uncountable “thou”
gentlewomen play parts reserved for men
one must swallow the dress of men to act in a male world
appropriating male roles
………..oedipal wrestling matches…………………….
gentlewomen coaxing God to be available
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to experience sexuality they tied Joan Rivers to the hood of a Nascar favorite
she quickly got past her infant oral stage and made grand progress on deriving satisfaction
by way of tunnel………right out of Freudian narrative…..RPMS for release
rechanneled relocated release
closer to God
He is our dearest guest
God is immanent in our flesh
open erotic expression
personal and cosmic
at 200 MPH just ask Joan
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coping with the last ten comments……..the welter of comments
unnoticed and unremarked by a tough crowd
correspondence, an outward cry for equilibrium
every word is against the storm
words matter not……….WE LIVED
outward inward……….the nuthouse of language
we had courage facing great demons
confessionals at best
confessionals at worst
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for fuller intensity squeeze squirrel nuts
poets online raging against the disorder of things
reading zero please sing more to the left
seasonal push pins……….very rural
habitually acknowledge their own presence
please brighten us with a blaze
unwrap the gift of Being
keep push pins out of the hands of country laborers
geological maps with puerile speculations
push pins holding up a waking nightmare
borderline poverty on the postage stamp
fat detectives grown accustomed to hungry people
ungraspable flux…….dead pets embedded in flux
dead animal elegies………guerrilla phrasing
missing friends left at a fire in the forest
good-bye in a wavering loon manner
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for fuller intensity squeeze squirrel nuts
oracular or esoteric……
take your recipes
your wavering loon tune
and leave the wilderness
TOURISM IS THE NEW TUMOR
grinding poverty is a full-time occupation
to hell with your poster pictures of our barns
barns that have sunk steadily progressively further and further down
our children in rags sleeping in thorns to ward off the rats
crooked for the lack of vitamin C
WE MAY BE BENT BUT ARE FAR FROM BROKEN
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vitamins from the sin – we are far from breakable – like space material used to make space shuttle cutlery – we are durable – desirable – our words are worth more then all the Inca gold –
6million deaths at the foot of the mountain
the pilgrim fathers invented NASCAR as a joke – a way to induce comas –
they hid the truth of orgasm so we could seek – so we could experiment –
she, the she, her, for it is her escaped the plantation
solace in the nuthouse where I used to work (this is true…) pale municipal coloured walls trapped in time the sound of pool balls clinking, the bounce if a ping pong ball, a TV sound but no picture, daily bingo, the wail
the screams of people not wired up right or chemically deficient in this way or that, the rattle of medicine to be taken at regular intervals the walls, again
two inch thick with nicotine tar white bearded man with yellow nicotine steak yellow lines – the wailing – vocal pain – fear fear – lupine
Joan Rivers has filled a complaint
it is my birthday so I bid your leave to eat cake
extinguish candles
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HOPE YOU HAD A DADDY LONGLEGS KIND OF BIRTHDAY !!!
I managed to go to sleep and now it is a new day
rumor has it (this is only a rumor): Joan Rivers was admitted to MT SAINAI HOSPITAL
today complaining of internal discomfort…upon examination, MS. Rivers was thought to
have a small Kodiak bear hibernating in her lower colon (you might ask why it was a Kodiak
bear and not a silverback gorilla or a moose…well, she had just completed a survival course
on the Kodiak Archipelago and had spent several nights sleeping outside nude with Navy
Seals)……..anyway, the obstruction turned out to be a full length fur coat of unknown
origin………no word on how it was removed…..upon questioning, MS. Rivers stated that
she recalled placing the fur piece in a small foul smelling closet…there is speculation
that more objects may be lodged there
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SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE
she is a taproot with all its tiny rootlets turned upside down
many of the children were generated without the assistance of a female
they were the offspring of The Divine Mistress/The Dark Mother
remember in the end it will be Christ and only Christ who will destroy the enemy
turn your back on the lake of fire of everlasting torment
the last enemy is death………death holds no claim on Christ
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brooding on the play of time:
was there ever a girlish image in the truth mirror ?
youthful gaiety ?
pleasure had to be rehearsed
tiny pieces of paper with words written on them:
sentimental sin
young love
monkey-face scamp
chatterbox
each piece of paper was pinned to the wall of reminiscences
no room for mid-life !!!
BE YOUNG IN YOUR YOUTH
scientific knowledge may pull a fur coat out of Joan Rivers
or take a color photograph of blue milk
but it can never correct Jesus
no one brags of the fruit trees of atheism
THE FRUITS OF AN EMPTY HEART
stray from the spiritual path and find yourself in the turbid darkness
a place where suffering is the source of thought
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speak of a closet drama the space station just got new improved cutlery
both durable and desirable free of slavery free of the past
neither spoon or fork… assembled in a top secret lab
space station cutlery is the principal industry of the small town
the manufacture of outer space cutlery
hyper-secret: local spring water imparts a sovereign temper to the cutlery
you say that our words are worth more than gold
what criterion in deciding their value or necessity ?
to regard words so highly…..is it a kind of idolatry ?
fragmentary diary installments
WHAT IF WE HACK OFF THE OUTER PROTECTIVE SHELL OF OUR WORDS ?
in dreams are you a stranger to words ?
many words or phrases can be totally incomprehensible
you secretly yearn for something indescribable
to turn actual feelings into words
unable to keep pace with the times
to never go beyond THE BEATLES or THE ROLLING STONES
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NASCAR has built a track around the plantation
the past consumes its own tail
pessimism and defeat are eternal push pins
work in the field has lapsed into the race track
the cruel circle modernized into a high-powered hell
NASCAR with its fostering tricks
has turned the slaves into willing servants
the haunting presence of thousands of spectators
with great artistic flair who will master who will crash
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the internal fur scratched vital organs and tickled her – laughing one her own – laughing like a mad woman (back to asylum?) – maybe..but
.the Navy Seals all signed non-disclosures agreements and to this day they all live by a code of silence…once a year they met up on wooden cabin and reminisce about the days of Joan ..but one day one of them will go rouge – will draw up a hit list – to erase the hierarchy of command – until all that exists is him and the truth of the Archipelago – he has been infiltrated by a faceless South American meat conglomerate
Confusion over Kodiak bears and Kodak camera – the hard K – meaningless as a child’s first ‘goo’— unyielding consonants – snapping like a camera shutter in your face – you can’t take pictures with a bears. Thousands have tried.
The female, she, her, lived in the town built to build space cutlery – spent years trying to redesign the fork – futile – sometimes things just seen to be perfect..space age plates, now there was something’s he could get her teeth into – #2 pencil drawing board spine
and you ask what criterion is used to measure words against gold – the answer unquantifiable – there are to many meanings to words – to many angles to approach them –
to many avenues she can’t keep this up –
the birthday cake is going dry on the windowsill – the curtains are missing
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just the mention of INTERNAL FUR made the sodomites go wild !!!
on hearing the cries in the night do we understand them ?
if challenged to repeat them….would it be nearly impossible ?
the value of words
dictionary definitions
verbal bludgeons in the shadows
you dare not show me your fetish
your mathematical matters
assigning beliefs to their proper place on the scale
assigning beliefs requires more than Hello Kitty push pins
PLEASE COMPOSE A TELEGRAPHIC ALPHABET
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never accept a push pin from an eye-witness
or ask such a person to observe your privates
as errors of observation are difficult to erase
as diffuse background noise is troublesome to filter
once an image of your privates has materialized
true or false, no matter how singularly unspectacular
the roar may never soften
from pencil scribbling to history books
your junk will be a phenomena
GOD SAVE THE QUEEN
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people constantly say that this is the contemporary world
what a load of crap….this is already ancient yesterday
not one whole day after Rome
in a humorous way yesterday was a lie
each woman felt that she was on the most intimate
and open terms with her man
lip service with no ears
not adult ears
the most neglected creature
the loving female
place the thorns around your untamed regions
protect yourself from the grime and dirt of false romance
inner blindness is a terrible thing
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IN THE FLAMES OF ALL THINGS BURNING
everywhere the reflections of eyes like alien mirrors
each piece of broken self:
ego/empirical self/illusion/mask/superficial self
innocent narcotics
migrating lust
rough seduction
wake up that sleeping nerve
to interpret meaning out of noodle up or noodle down
satire and parody and honeymoon anesthesia
carnival chop-chop you ride you pay
the curtains of wakefulness are arranged
scrambled messages on the morning plate
seed inside or seed outside
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Joan wanted to marry a Pope
but ended up with an Ebenezer
107 year old lukewarm sex toy
crescendo and diminuendo
Joan you are all dry and vulgar
sheltered and lethargic
the garden has gone to dust
the Mower rusted shut
platonic the Christian way
a little harmless folly
skin stretched from tree to tree
the distance between pee pee
and poo poo the pull of motivation
every verb conforms to the opening
a stupendous act of restraint
to Joan and her privates
indefinite suspension of any act
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SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE
preserved her virginity
just guess the mood of that flap
a pancake of praise
flexible has gone stiff
the solitude of that address
larded with accusations
of unnatural vice
coarsening dirtiness
a specific evil
in through the exit
the best thing in the worst place
imagination and a tube of lube
harmless but brown
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toothpicks and push pins will not protect your goats
modern practitioners of math complain
they need not descend
the spring-time bears are hungry
they carry the jaws of death
to kiss your goats
antiquated wit will not save them
the ones with blue eyes will go first
pray for a decline in popularity
couched in mealtime language
bears in cloaks possibly poets
protect your secret thoughts
dash away from the stethoscope
commas are everywhere
commas intensify the sense of anxiety
punctuation marks like Mexican Math
to grasp intuitively the soiled hands message:
empty your mind of inactive memories
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the silence of the pristine town – cutlery makers one and all – specialist skills – in this town no dog barks – each house is assigned its own telescope – thousands of windows with telescopes pointed at the sky – all the house have erections – it seems – factories full of silent machines – she laughed at the word spoon – manicured eyed sees through metal tube – bent glasses views craters on the moon – she wants to go on holiday – away from fork town – to pack her fur and monkey suit – to dip toes in oceans – there used to be lakes on Pluto – mountains on Mars – Olympus Mons would blunt her crampons –
under cover of vampire moons she
decides disappear – she removes her fingerprints – assigns herself a new Christian name – cuts hair – leaves a note in her new alphabet and redirects all her mail – she empties her memories as with her last pin –
pins them to a tree
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the famous little town with all the telescopes, “LOOK-SEE”
a place very peculiar but oddly familiar
poets say that it is the burg through that thorniest of thickets
a place where children wash their privates with baptismal water
where older women grow groin-hedgehogs
and wear their cotton only once
LOOK-SEE can be identified by the eye
on maps there aren’t any letters only symbols
famous for their space cutlery
not every product of the defection from the Lord
only ones that bring an arched eyebrow
products identified by the eye
products that reflect only your own image
where you can discover your inner turmoil
isolated aspects of your humanity
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those hungry bears
that feed on your narcissistic goats
are they really primitive aggressive
selfishly destructive aspects of sex ?
you put up your protective fence of toothpicks
BUT DID YOU FUNCTION AGE-APPROPRIATELY ?
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the empty box of Hello Kitty push pins
all the things touched by sticky lips
all the things touched by sticky fingers
in the town of LOOK-SEE
they want to see
observation is everything
no matter how singularly unspectacular
their faith is in their vision
and not their intellectual ability
what can you say about spoon humor ?
bend over and guess what
becomes the center of attention
you can smell a dabbler
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SHAKESPEARE wrote: “The fault…is not in Nascar
but in ourselves that we are underlings.”
childish tantrums and parental bludgeons
lapses of memory like grades of school
if only a better piece of cutlery could be made
imagined reconstruction
like scab formation
on a mental wound
sticky fibers that enmesh themselves
a scheme for possible healing
a scheme for thinking outside the box
locked and bolted
tentless in the desert
forced to struggle through it
dialogue on wordpress/messages in a bottle
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the cutlery industry is fabricating alarm in LOOK-SEE
big-wigs are afraid of consumer sexuality
they want garlands to redress that wrong
THE ASSOCIATION OF SEXUAL GUILT WITH EATING
takes one back to the FALL
break the seal on Eve
and the gates close behind you
exit from the golden world
push pins and string astronomical
old man poet becoming blunt
what once represented hope for the future
now represents grief and yellow puddles
on the academic kingdom under the urinal
fox news calls it the vault of death
echoing inaudibly the voice of Joan Rivers
“how can it be so large ?”
sado-masochistic tones
man is the destroyer woman the creator
nostalgia for Adonis-like sailors
lots of money in port
the tempo of sex
the value of hunger
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SHAKESPEARE was a woman – he was the she –
secret papers buried now revealed this
– boxes of secrets – metallic time capsule contains cutlery – strands of hair – newspaper cutting informing past people of crashing UFOs – an industry magazine talking about future pin design – a new sharpness –
the tantrums were thrown to no avail –
parents shame faced palm prints left on child skin – THE AUTHORITIES MUST BE INFORMED –
They will investigate –
JOAN RIVERS IS THE SAFE WORD
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Look see hear –
the correspondence have smashed the old bottles – old bottles no longer wash up on distant shores – there are no new shores – nothing is distant – we have touched space –
all geography is stale –
the only areas left to explore are her – inside warm
& outside flesh – her contours – mark paths followed with pins
now bottles are not needed – the words
words are out – we don’t think – the words just cum – explode in bursts – take shape and form –
let them make of it what they will – let the goats be themselves
Adam had the apple, he removed the core and stared through the hole – he stared until the edges folded in
the cutlery town is closing down
dead mattresses
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DO NOT PANIC………….DO NOT PANIC
the cutlery factory is not going to close
whizzing molecules no………..a thousand times no
he also called what was in his diaper, ripe apples
he made a love toy out of a melon and called her Eve
what a life of sin and temptation
his coffee-house vernacular
frenchified manners
first place versatility
his devotion to his hand
profound awareness
intense surrender
a sort of asexual tranquility without the pills
a roadmap of the vanity of human wishes
his double heart: ONE FOR HEAD ONE FOR HEART
one half-playful one just nasty
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I’ve seen the decimation of a town when it’s specialist industry closes down –
that yo-yo factory a while ago where the workers hung themselves from lamppost and just bounced up and down –
up and down
I fear the cutlery workers will be forced to sell hair and teeth to survive – some may go on rampages
wielding forks
some may set up a cottage industry selling words to the mute
dust in the dust bowl
Joan Rivers in snake skin boots offering career advice on a late night talk show
the dead town filled with spoiled used melon love toys rotting licked at by feral dogs
in space no one uses spoons
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again I say, “The Leviathan Cutlery is not going to close their doors.”
the space department is having a bit of a shake-down
however they also make cutlery for many other industries:
airlines prisons schools gay bars etc
relax LOOK-SEE residents
The Leviathan Cutlery will reintegrate that which is disintegrated
BROTHERS UNDER THE SKIN: 2013
no one thinks about unfinishing
until they find themselves in the metaphysical predicament
of UNFINISHING
unfinishing leads to incompletion
incompletion and endless aspiration
common threads in the fabric of manhood
the unknowable and the impossible
manly charms close to the heart
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LOOK-SEE suffers from random sensibility
where many of the items of daily life
seem unconnected
people forget that they are living agents of God
We as people are instruments
God has spun and we are spinning
life is ever challenging…..are you open to the challenge ?
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phew, sighs of relief exhaled as the Leviathan Company confirm non-closures – people’s saving saved –
pre-planned tits jobs can go ahead
Mr.Smith CAN buy that speedboat
Saturdays cocaine party is GO GO GO
“Where there’s food there’s cutlery”, reassures the boss man, red of face, hairy of whisker, “our mission is incomplete. We are incomplete…”
..his speech just trails off into a whisper then a faint echo then a memory which will be forgotten as fingers fiddle with new instruments – new hobbies in recreation time for the restless – scheduled time away from yourself –
God isn’t concerned about the details – assumptions satisfy the lazy mind
The town is regenerated and await the new challenge – ALL POWER TO THE FORK
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always the narcissistic impulse to project ourselves
hurdles encounters lampposts
so many live what is not life
the workers at the yo-yo factory
sadly, they lived themselves into a corner
a corner that reduced too far
I remember seeing the bodies going up and down
on the evening news
Kato Kaelin was pointing at them
he said that they were “FRONTING”
I don’t know exactly what that means
it is difficult to understand the masses of shades and shadows
the terrible situations that good people find themselves in
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cul-de-sac corners
stuck in permanent revolutions – spinning force – centrifugal or centripetal? Let the scientist tell us – they know these things –
in the corners trapped – we make our prisons –
solipsism leads to narcissism
and pictures of the hanging yo-yo people appeared worldwide – testament to the cyclical nature of capitalism – a new edition to file next to “napalm girl running from the field” – this is the new horror –
Kato Kaelin (is a mystery to me) , Kato Kaelin – with the harsh K,
like the Kodiak bear, has a bacon number of 2
So does Joan Rivers –
two points of the trinity
– a near triangle
the plot deepens the quicksand thickens
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I didn’t know Kato Kaelin as he never worked at the factory
he lived on the outskirts of LOOK-SEE as a hobby-horse
or was that a boy-toy ?
while Kato does start with a sharp K
the thing to remember about Kato:
HAIR with a sharp H
OMG, his hair was everything
men women of all ages went silly over that hair
sadly, it has been replaced with a dead rat
I had to look away when I saw it
sorry Kato, time is cruel
recall that leisurely account you gave of that misfortune
your interpretation of swimming with sharks
the wife the lust the bed the drugs the lack of funds
a terrifying underside beneath the deceptive surface of beauty
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KKs hair is a substitution for failed masculinity – compensation – a mane to hide behind –
hair as a health hazard
fire hazard – legally has to be no more than 5 feet from a fire hydrant –
and he did work at the factory – fingers were pointed and he was forced to leave – underhanded liberties taken against underpaid interns (- ad nauseum) -a shameful exit as left foot followed right etc etc
and across the ocean KK has many equivalents but their passports have been confiscated to reduce risk of contagion – hair has been leashed to restrict movement – tethered
Can you take a restraining order out against HAIR?
Get Joan on the phone, we need answers
let’s lift it up now and look at the underbelly – it can no longer be hidden
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refuge in a second wife the depravity of another woman
the old wife with the worms in her hair
even now he checks to make sure that the pillow is clean
she had a pet bird that ate the worms but it was dirty
often there was nature wet on the satin covers
of course there was the breakdown and the confinement
she wrote poems night and day trying to link
the dissolution of the self and doctor love
even worse she was daddy’s doll
sore is psychic history
and mother daily looked
she prayed for hibernation
but only lucky bears get that gift
she would unwrap her birthday packages
each with a different skull murmur
the doctor said that it was the birds
they were trying to nest in her consciousness
the Bible says that the spirit is safely caged
but she was a poet a tight-lipped psychopathic poet
winged inhabitants were everywhere in her mental actuality
if only she could capture them on paper if they were only words
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SHE had a tormenting obsession with mutability
relationships of things sequences with push pins
clarifying string even more push pins
ravines with pubic hair seedy eyed devils
looking and looking no tumors maybe next season
how close and yet how far away the trapped expression
the last poem of the awakened bird
the doctor was too lazy to unscrew the door
extraordinary and unhistorical
the words in darkness
puffy chaos
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this world only existed in words – this town – that factory – all the fucking pins –
it was all constructed with readily available letters – ALL 26 of them (go on count ’em) –
that’s why she was fascinated with the mutability of things – a constant flux – you fall in love with a tree and days its felled – the landscape of her heart changed and we watched from a distance –
the next steps are just random exercises – mind games to stab pins at daily inertia –
I don’t know what you do but I can tell you my day sucks shit from a dead dogs arse
his second wife was the same as the first – carbon copy – repeating and he will pay for his lack of imagination
dirty birds salty worms
the doctor saw no ailments poetry was prescribed but she needed to grow wings first
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today was the worst one yet she wrote (but who to?)
– the doctor and his hands – routine he said – roving they were – words coated in soma – hypnotised by his professionalism – a wall covered in certificates – this proves nothing – you can buy them on-line
hell
you can buy ANYTHING on line –
a life, a wife, a knife and pins.
pins – all colours – length – sharpness – enough pins for a fakirs bed – snake charmer Indian giver
finger pricked on pins
small puddles
a Hansel and Gretel trail of hemoglobins stalked by hungry vampires – they can taste tumours – it was written
hotels in the town offer guided tours of the pins exhibit – tourists flock like flies to visit her – SHE IS LARGER THEN LIFE
at night she locks the door while father creeps along the hall while the house creaks asleep –
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evil is easily observed while good is often a guessing game
she had an intuitive apprehension about her father in the hall
she had a board with a big nail in it
she was willing to pulverize his conscious plans
she had a physical reality that he wanted to touch
to ultimately experience to link and unlink
to ground like lightning
the guided tour of the push pin exhibit was God breaking into history
God often posed as a component in an organic push pin exhibit
God was the Golden Push Pin
you mentioned common blood
bested by the best…………blood of the martyrs
never too late to recirculate
evolve and grow more and more complex
or maintain a continuity of self identity
YOU ARE INSCRIBED
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beleaguered by fleas
tiny creatures with push pin bites
Brahman Shiva Krishna Christ
Assyrian Persian Greek Roman
renewed purified infinitude of bliss
everyone at the factory is an egg
the frames go by so fast
too fast for us to detect
scraps of cinema
the sounds you hear are not real
they are reproductions
the world changes to accommodate us
we are the Sistine Chapel on two legs
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the Sistine Chapel on legs is like Fahrenheit 451 – we are the books we read – we are all the words – we are monkeys with typewriters – poets no longer use pens
the sound we hear is always impacted by time –
small frames of time passing –
it’s all relative – (mother/father/sister/brother etc)
she never went to the cinema due to popcorn allergies – but she attended the pin exhibition –
she attended twice a day for three months – she took thousands of pictures – made a flip book – a thousand pins moving across a page –
and at the factory the siren rings and the workers coalesce in designated spaces
roped off from their identities which are returned at the end of day –
boredom strikes like a board with a big nail in it
everything is imbedded deep
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funny you should mention The Sistine Chapel On Two Legs
there was quite a stir today at the push pin exhibit
next door to the exhibit is a Dollar Store
that you can get cheap electroshock therapy
there is an old 1940 Packard
hooked up to some jumper-cables
for 2 dollars American you can get juiced
psychiatric treatment on the cut-rate
anyway lots of patients end up at the exhibit
I know it sounds absurd
but I think they crave all the metal
shiny polished metal
maybe they count the push pins
sort-of-a count your way out of the black forest
anyway basically they are Electric Zombies
the people in charge of the exhibit really don’t mind
the mechanical counters read them as spectators
it helps to finance the show traffic increases traffic
and then today there was tragedy
one of the fresh sparks decided to eat
the house from the Hansel and Gretel set
gingerbread and 179 push pins
talk about an aberration of the digestive system
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the person who ate the gingerbread/push pin house was quoted as saying, “On a pleasure-pain scale, eating the house was the most glorious experience imaginable!”
what happens when you look at degenerate molecules with a microscope ?
signals in the sky………..treasure in the gutter
what if you have to die to meet God ?
what if God is inside you like that scary ALIEN movie ?
what if you really are that rat-headed Kato Kaelin and you’ve painted yourself into a corner ?
under routine and ordinary conditions you test yourself and fail
you fail big time and then you’re faced with telling the truth
“MY MOTHER WAS CRO-MAGNON”
there were plenty of personal mystic religious experiences
behind locked doors there was the oral Jesus banana thing
non-terrestrial oral texture on the royal banana
in a fuzzy way we are talking about the son of God
Peter North Peter Proud high-flying ecstatic joy
He was re-entering life one splash at a time
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she took refuge inside Katos mane – his hair thick like Ohio wheat fields – Mormon rain – she hide in his hair to avoid the pin collectors who sort her antique Victorian hair pins – tarnished through time – but worth many Euros – antique pin collectors traced the history of objects – studied bloodline and engravings – they reached conclusion and needed her (she) to confirm their findings
Katos hair has been designated a tourist attraction but in my country no ones heard of him – he is a rumour – something that happens ‘over there’
she feigned pleasure at the hands of the Doctor and dreamt of the forks three prongs – very Freudian but isn’t everything? Ask Joan Rivers, she has the low down on this.
she’s studied the sex thing at the hands of experts, self appointed experts with no certificates to prove their authenticity
she wanted to write a book on the struggle of the cutlery workers at the Leviathan company – but started to see shadowy figures in bushes , hear strange noises on her phone, pins wet missing,
deaths threats posted in hieroglyphics
the cranium of the CRO-MAGNON head were measured and scientist began to extract memories from dead cells
I saw all of this.
I NEED TO SLEEP THE CUTLERY IS BECOMING REAL
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SHE was a survivor of many holocausts
history is full of genocide
every American questions the price paid
the handshake with Satan (bellum omnium contra omnes)
herd-fashion into society
one who lives and one who watches himself pretend to live
masquerading as a poet on wordpress
a girlscout with underpants from Morocco
untold secrets are dime a dozen
She was a survivor of boys brothers father men masculinity
all the touches characteristic of present day life
even the doctor who wanted to play poesy under her robe
until death no man shall pet kiss rob
so says the board with the nail
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the Girl Scouts Moroccan underpants were owned by William Burroughs – found them buried in Tangiers – a million miles from the harsh light of the leviathan – she held hands with Boy Scout and saluted flags – they tied knots – intertwined themselves, the ropes, pin designs carved in forest trees – he told her history was propelled by damaged people – holocausts and bingo –
the masquerading poet is a three wheeled car
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this present life fast slipping away
holocausts and bingo
over 300 invalid children
knock for a hand-out
they stand in the ebb and flow
misery below misery above
photographs of sad toys
300 invalid pseudonyms
too many loungers/parasites
laid on with a trowel
concrete with bones
cremation in the sidewalk
make the best of circumstances
funeral home man gonna repair you
throw your dreams in the trash
poverty increases the sorrow
have you a significant name ?
kindly penetrating eyes
the bane of school days
push pinned to the wall
concomitant evil
steeped in poppies
curtain tea like nightfall
industrious sleep SHE excluded
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the present life no longer ebbed or flowed – the GRANDfather expired like milk under a warm sun –
he slept in pyramids and walked through Holy lands – killed Nazis at a distance – he smelt the holocaust – saw train lines in his dreams but he died alone 10:36pm – his decrepit wife speaking in tongues in another room – amongst his belongings they found a key to storage unit – his name was insignificant – Biblical and boring – He told her stories – invented fables –
on the day he died a newspaper ran a story about a man paralysed from the eyebrows down who could only communicate by furrowing his brow – his wife hated him – continually injected Botox into his head so he couldn’t speak – his forehead smooth / tighter then a drum skin – he died rictus head – Cro-mag skulls
there is an element of truth in everything she said – leviathan ledgers weighed sins bingo numbers correlate to unknown events
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SHE enjoyed a measure of detachment
pull out a measuring tape
faithfully 48 inches and no less
a harmless folly but a hell of a good birth control
circumvention of decay
a preservative balm for doing and suffering
sex the express invitation to living hell
sex betrays itself by its dirtiness
coarsening before God
sex, a specific evil
be not a coward churchperson
take the axe and hack the roots
the bad fruit tree must cease
the wooing of bad fruit must cease
perpetual pleasure is a tomb for fools
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carnivorous seniors go wild consuming bingo numbers
they eat up their time swallowing bingo numbers
seniors feeding ferociously, an affectionate strife
devourers of the future from lovers to losers
whiteheads on insect sticks ending without a punch line
Joan Rivers says, “I would never love at a lower rate.”
her phrasing assures us that she has received
the highest possible plastic polish
Joan has had her injections of old man jism
barbaric stumbling in night clubs
ensnared by wealth
lessened by greed
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it wasn’t a nuclear reactor
it was a psychic reactor
until he becomes visible
Jesus is invisible
when he comes
will the 3rd eye open ?
the veil of ignorance gone
to be removed at the proper time
the signal from the sky
the spinning EVE
she will return inside ADAM
man will be whole
all the opposites will cease
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bingo seniors look at the numbers – they are a wealth of information- stored in their –
inside the old skull – sinking gums into the all you can eat BINGO BUFFET – wet nursed by lapsed nuns
the rattle of their oxygen canisters dragged across thin carpets – the bingo caller keeps files on all of then – Joan Rivers told him to –
attribute coincidence to events –
there’s a Bible in every hotel rooms –
in every hotel room there are beds, wardrobes, curtains, tea making facilities – would the future men pray to the bedside lamp? seek solace in the wardrobe? –
I don’t know.
She open the bathroom mirror and thought it was powered by pills and razor
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Joan Rivers recognized in herself a hyper-rebellious independence of mind
this was something thought extremely dangerous in a woman
she was a wife a mother a daughter a stand-up party girl comedian
her husband was over 130 years old
a cruel cold licentious booze hound
Joan was an opportune target for his barren arrows
SHE was onstage chastising her inner self
in her mind she was on all “fours”
her diary was filled with spiritual rape
her resentment was well known
her living mental vacuum
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please do not touch those bibles in motel rooms
motel room bibles are part of a conspiracy
(in print and consequent availability)
God and Christ are there but they are just words
meddle not in motel religion
do something positive
Correct the Catholics
pull up their pants
blind yourself to genital vanity
diamonds pearls and gold
holy men with swinging deeds
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THAN EYES CAN SEE OR HANDS HOLD
JOAN WITH HER EARTHLY TREASURES
HER YOUTHFUL FEATURES
HER UNREGENERATE PART
DOWN BELOW
A DOMESTIC DUST-BIN
JOAN HAD WILLED RESOLUTION
REAL DETERMINATION TO RESIST TEMPTATION
SHE WAS PAST HUMILIATION
THE BLOOD PHLEGM GRAY NUT-SEED
NO SOONER COME THAN GONE
VERBS QUIET SETTLING DOWN
BUDS BLOWN
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the factory offered a case study
a degree in Joan studies – sponsored by the Gideons –
a corporate tie in – Gideons Holiday Inn and the estate of Joan Rivers – ENROLE NOW AND RECEIVE A FREE SNOW GLOBE –
the Braille bible is 10 foot wide
hotel dwellers in branded bath robes – mini-bar regret – curtains closed away from the prying eye of God / Buddha / Kato Kaline / Cro-Mag man – whoever
prostitue cleaning up in the bathroom – pants down – furtive – he couldn’t meet her eyes – before during or after the act – money on bed side cabinet –
Joan knows the weight of regret – she nows the pangs of lapsed belief
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RIGHT ON TARGET………..SUPER GREAT HUMOR FACTOR………………..PERFECT !!!!!!!!!!!!!
I HAVE A GIDEONS/RIVERS SNOW GLOBE I GOT ON THIS COMPLEX WEB SITE CALLED EBAY………DIFFICULT TO FIND THE ORTHODOX VERSION
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Joan came close to speaking rebelliously against God
she made a living venting her emotions
why else would she marry a 130 year old man ?
directing her emotions was productive
in a weird way her humor became a form of prayer
every night she would go on stage and talk to God
often the humor wasn’t the question but the answer
sadly, laughter cannot wipe away the inner pain
sometimes when you talk to God too much
you become hollow inside
over the duration Joan became structurally hollow
it was merciful the doctors filling her with Home Depot foam
not the dust of the earth………….expanding foam from aisle 6
it was difficult at first speaking from behind a mask
finding a voice in a world that denies anything
but young and glamorous voices
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a recent dream:
Kato Kaelin handing out disclaimers and apologies
he was sorry that he was being exploited on wordpress
only his hands were hermaphroditic
one more so than the other
his “party” hand
intellectual capacity and public visibility
overzealous borrowing…..imitation as theft
haunted by his infantilized role as Joan Rivers
talking to God his brain was inseminated
nightly he was on stage with pregnant brain
recurrent self-deprecations/thoughts behind the mask
it was a tortuous gender admiration for shared sex
I am you as you are me
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her husband was 130 years but that is unfair speculation -perpetrated by a small cabal of humourless Phyllis Diller exponents –
his birth certificate could never be located –
in dog years he would be 16 – hitting puberty and masturbating all day –
cut him apart at the waist and count the rings – see, I told you…
and we got it wrong – Joan doesn’t speak to God, God speaks to Joan – feeds her punchlines when shes under the spotlights – stage – it’s all a stage –
before she was filled with foam she was like a coconut – hollow and empty (vacuous?) on the inside and HAIRY on the outside – spare a thought for the monkey suits – spare a thought for the Gideon’s – secularisation leading to rethinking of career paths
i think your nocturnal visions are confirmation everything we’ve said is right –
this wouldn’t stand up in any court of law…
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people in monkey suits cannot be trusted
individually or collectively
poor choice for camouflage
hairy people clubs maybe
disguised until you pull out your philosophy
detailed memories of mother at the zoo
she was a grand old dame
LADY LEAKING CLAM
I heard Arthur C. Clarke talking about Kato Kaelin
mister pregnant brain on stage
you grieve at the moment
you rejoice later at home
Kato knew the first name of Joan’s husband
……………PINOCCHIO………………………..
it is true you could count his rings
at least physically but not spiritually
Arthur said that Jesus
was an avatar of Dionysus
Christians shelter Jesus
concealed sleeping waiting
romantics say He is in a giant pearl
romantics say the pearl is The Egg of Leda
a closed pregnant egg with eternal life
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thinking about the past
changes the future
Joan never thinks about Pinocchio
his very name is written
with slate on slate
difficult obsessive problematic
a regular rat bastard
tubes and a plastic bag
to deal with the fluids
no need to ask what’s that smell
perishable flesh
and that tumor he got from Phyllis
cumbersome wet with jelly
trumpeting angels around the pyre
poor Pinocchio is on fire
someone stole his nose
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SHE was once architecture
love reduced her to rubble
thin sentiment and push pins
translators abused her words
they called her Joan Swahili
humor an instrument of torture
intellectual fingers dance
rigors down below
I hear it meow
twin lips in the growth
an aorta of apocalypse
forgotten ghosts shut out
an eager husband
with a wooden nose
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Pinocchio was known to holiday in the belly of a whale – fish guts bones half chewed boats Ahab memories –
his nose a phallus that rejected truth – Geppetto with hair like cornmeal mush invented the wooden child for cheap thrills and kicks – a drunk loner who seeked companionship from a young boy – in these days the authorities would be informed –
Pinocchio who’s name is carved on wood – is carved on himself – self mutilation with a chisel – the angst of the wooden child
love like rubble – the blitz – and Kato theorised that aliens only saw EARTH as a nothing ball of rock until the WAR – bombs began to explode – chemical reactions – electrons and protons always cause explosions – and the EARTH lite up – the aliens then took note and if you plot alien abductions stories on a graph you’ll see a sharp increase from the 40s onwards –
dwarf stars shine for her toffee apple summer – they renewed their vowels in a plastic surgeons theatre – SHE’S ALWAYS ON STAGE
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A KIND OF HYPNOTIC ROTE OF FAVORITE IMAGES
AND ASSOCIATIONS AND WORDS
ONE-LEGGED POETICAL HABITS
IT WAS TRUE THAT PINOCCHIO
LIKED TO WALK ON THE ROOF AT NIGHT
“a slumber did my spirit fail”
ON DAYS OF THE WRONG TIDE
YOU COULD HEAR HIM CURSE
PHYLLIS DILLER
SHE WAS THE OUTHOUSE ROSE
A LODGED PIECE OF FECAL MATTER
CORN-BEARING PHYLLIS
THE SMELL WAS HER SHADOW
THE SLIP AND SLIDE DOWN
SELF-CENTERED AND BROWN
AT LENGTH SUDDENLY EXPELLED
UNMEASURED FARE YE WELL
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CAN YOU IMAGINE A VACATION INSIDE A WHALE ?
THE LONELINESS OF A MISERABLE GRAVE ?
AFTER TWO THOUSAND YEARS OF SLEEP
WE ALL WANT TO CRACK OPEN THE EGG
AND RELEASE JESUS
WITH HIS THEATRE OF LOVE
WE ARE CRIPPLED WITH THE BITTERNESS IN BLOOD
THE WHIRLWIND OF EVIL HAS GROWN STRONG
IT ANGERS THE HOUNDS OF HELL BEGGING RELEASE
FIRE AND SNOW ARE BROUGHT TOGETHER
MOUNTAINS QUAKE AND RIVERS FLOOD
STORMS DESECRATE THE LANDSCAPE
WITH RIVETS TIGHT OUR HEARTS
NO LONGER PUMP
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a holiday inside a whale – transferred through intestinal tract on a raft made from discarded scripts for never released TV shows and rejected manuscripts – rib cage like prison bars – hollow guts an echo chamber for the existentialist wail –
inside the whale their is neither good nor bad
right or wrong you exist in a peaceful throb – asexual tourists take pictures of number plates –
they exit through the blowhole – fired into the ether – the whale remains oblivious to the exploitation he is a victim of –
Pinocchio knows his fate –
dry rot & wood worm –
he lacks the computational skills to perceive the egg and all it’s hidden meaning – Jesus is a skateboarder from the bad part of town
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I DON’T THINK I WOULD TRUST ASEXUAL TOURISTS
I WOULD HAVE TO MEASURE THEIR CRAWLING THING
CUP THEIR SAC AND APPLY THE SQUEEZE OF MINISTER LOVE
RECHECK THE RIVETS ON THEIR QUIVERING GROIN
AND THEN THERE IS THE HAUGHTINESS OF A HAUGHTY HEART
WHEN ON VACATION I DON’T WANT TO HEAR THE WAIL OF WOES
OR HAVE TO BE SHOT FROM A BLOWHOLE
ALTHOUGH THEY SAY THAT LOOKING OUT FROM THE EYES
IS LIKE LOOKING OUT THE SMALL WINDOWS
ON TOP OF THE WASHINGTON MONUMENT
I WANT TO SEE AND FEEL BEYOND WORDS POSSIBLY
SIT ON A PILLOW OF THORNS AND STUDY THE NUMBER PLATES
THE TREACHERY OF NUMBERS WIDE-WANDERING NUMBERS
IT WAS NOT EASY TO MAKE HANDS IT TOOK COUNTLESS DINOSAURS
ENDLESS CROSSING THE GRAVE FOR A PERFECT HAND
TEN FINGERS SO YOU CAN PROPERLY PRACTICE MATH
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SELF-FORGETFULNESS IS A COMMON DEFECT IN NON-BELIEVERS
A GOOD PERSON MUST PLACE HIMSELF IN THE PLACE OF ANOTHER
AND OF MANY OTHERS THE PAIN OF OTHERS MUST BECOME HIS OWN
MORE EXPERIMENTAL DRIVEN EXPLORATIONS WITNESSING
THE CHARM IN EXCESSIVE CLEVERNESS
STUNTS IN POETRY ARE LIKE STUNTS ON STAGE
A KISS MAY BE WELCOME BUT NOT FROM THE BEHIND
PARALYZED BY ALIEN SHAPES EMILY DICKINSON STAYED INSIDE
OF ENERGIES AND EROTICS SHE SPOKE NOT
THERE WAS LOVE BUT NEVER APPRENTICESHIP
GOD GAVE HER A WAGONLOAD OF OMINOUS ODD NUMBERS
NAUGHTY BOOKS BRAIDED IN FRANCE
FODDER AND OTHER BEASTLY NOURISHMENT
SHE SMOKED THE PIPE AND STARED INTO BLUE EYES
SHE LET LANGUAGE SPEAK FOR ITSELF
A LITTLE PRUNING DOWN BELOW
HER HEDGEHOG WORE A SQUIRREL CAP
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asexual tourists tip toe through popular haunts – cameras dangling from Adam appled necks – frankly I agree with your assessments, these people, I wouldn’t trust, wouldn’t trust as far as I can piss –
I also don’t trust
car salesman
priests
Steve
the printed word
all thrown from the blow hole
the self forgetfulness left himself at home and saw himself walk down the garden path past hydrangea and while the real he was gone – the self – the real he – maybe – rearranged cutlery – run his comb through parts unknown
ghostwritten memories of fake 17th century explorers, the yeast that binds, the deed to Leviathan Cutlery lost in a rigged card game, her shame, Latin maths at an use angles – she paid a detective to follow her – and he saw her hide the vowels
a line from a song – “tanning beds explode with rich woman inside” – you have been warned Ms Rivers
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dreams now consist of sharp images of walking forks – elliptical spoons – the clang of the factory – formulas for new synthetics – a total redesign of the KNIFE – endless corridors of fur walls throbbing – I want to touch it, her- ten moons ago I had never heard of kato kaelin now he’s everywhere – in my fridge – nestled against milk – in a space station eating floating food – selling strands of his hair to science – he will be dissected by a thousand cuts – Joan River as Pinnochio – all varnished and shining in this weak summer sun – juggernauts delivering crates of maths – schools can’t afford words – the poet as a sponge
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REVEREND T. BACON OF WORDPRESS ROYALTY CONTACTED MY ACCOUNT
AND INFORMED ME THAT I WAS TO CEASE USING THE NAME, KATO KAELIN.
THE PAST WOULD BE FORGOTTEN BUT FUTURE USE WOULD RESULT IN
LEGAL PROBLEMS. HAVING HAD “LEGAL PROBLEMS” IN THE PAST I WAS
IN NO HURRY TO JUMP ON THAT WAGON. I AGREED TO STOP USING
THE NAME, KATO KAELIN.
YOU WILL NEVER HEAR THAT NAME LEAK FROM MY WORDY LIPS AGAIN.
HOWEVER, THAT REVEREND THOMAS SEEMED TO BE A REAL HOOT.
HAVING WORKED FOR OVER 20 YEARS AS A PSYCHIC I COULD READ THAT
OLD COOTER LIKE A 10 FOOT BRAILLE BIBLE.
I STARTED OUT BY TELLING HIM THAT I THOUGHT HIS FATHER WAS CRUEL
IN MANY WAYS………ESPECIALLY HIS METHOD OF PUNISHING THOMAS FOR
SMALL ERRORS BY URINATING ON HIS HANDS. I HAD NEVER HEARD OF THIS PUNISHMENT BEFORE. THERE WERE SOME REAL FREUDIAN ISSUES THERE
AS THOMAS ENJOYED LOOKING AT THE ADULT ORGAN. AS HE GOT OLDER
THERE WAS A DOUBLE “CURIOSITY” ……….HOW IN THE WORLD HAD HE SHOT
OUT OF THAT THING ?
I STARTED TO TELL HIM HOW THIS HAD WARPED HIM AND HOW WARM LIQUIDS
HAD REAPPEARED THROUGHOUT HIS LIFE WHEN HE STOPPED ME,
“YOU ARE FEEBLE-MINDED AND I’LL HEAR NO MORE”
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SHE put a message in a bottle……………………………..entropy of everything sticky
a sort of summoning……………………………………………repacking of language paranoid
details multiply a thousand times…………………………..mental derangement implanted
the world is not big enough…………………………………..portentous teasing mysterious
deciphering takes a hospital…………………………………hidden math inside rabbit ears
of many rooms……………………………………………………puberty: a motel of warm hands
each one with a TORAH window…………………………..a portal of misconception
I rubbed the milk and honey………………………………….I rubbed real good
catching up platelets……………………………………………untranslatable platelets
potential healing………………………………………………….intolerable manifestation of healing
rag dolls……………………………………………………………..painfully inserted down below
chopped and stretched…………………………………………a man made the first vulva
death never loses touch………………………………………..inside/outside mourning
horrific nouns……………………………………………………….rounded vowels unsettling
a latticework of furry insides…………………………………..sodomites hungry for rustic
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no digital missives have arrived from the Rev Bacon – no cease and desist notifications have been stapled to my forehead – I have not been sanitised but I shall forget I have heard of the name – but I will NEVER FORGET THAT HAIR –
never
will Ms Rivers version of the Rev Bacon be called into action? Will he rally and jump on the bandwagon?
Will there be a march? Banners and placards declaring us as person non grata? WordPress expunging – flexing fascist muscles?
In turn, as the past influences the future, being a product of nurture the Rev Bacon in turn punishes his seed by shitting in their hands and demanding they clap their hands.
he had been de- barred and lives at the bottom of the sea – feeble minded and unable to handle the truth, Rev Bacon can not be relied upon to give true testimony – he won’t touch the Bible – Braille or otherwise
False idols hide behind words
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FIVE SECONDS AFTER KISSING A KODIAK BEAR
THERE WERE TORRENTS OF BLOOD
ENORMOUSLY SWEET BLOOD
SOMEWHERE BENEATH THE BLOOD WAS ANOTHER LANGUAGE
A SENSUAL BEAR NARRATIVE AN EXOTIC UNDERTONE
IT MAKES US ATTEND TO SUBJECT MATTER
WE MIGHT OTHERWISE REFUSE TO ENTERTAIN
“suffering often starts at the surface of the skin”
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the bottled message arrived on the shore – savages emerged from bushes to inspect the glass – the message rattled around inside – they smashed the glass and deciphered – cuts hands on broken glass – sand absorbed blood
it asked then to burn all belongings, to remove the pins from the voodoo doll, turn the lights off when they leave
it festered away, time.
Robots wipe away tears but their designer said it was condensation,
she creeped into the kitchen to be hypnotised by the washing machine –
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so sad that schools cannot afford words
Chinese children are busy learning Latin Math
American children are learning to crack walnuts with their squabby sphincters
a kiss might be nice but not if you can smell the backside sweat
muscle magazines and superman whey flood the blackmarket
dvds of deep-knee bends
cheerleaders practice hypnotic routines
to escape many heartaches do not look at them
they are not ashamed to expose their bodies
just think…Mother Mary and her daughters wouldn’t wear such outfits in public
even in marital gaiety the lights would be out
bang the gong by night never a quarrel by day
oh, I was just rehearsing
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50 SPECIAL REASONS TO THINK OF IMMEDIATE DEATH
YOU MUST KISS THE KODIAK BEAR MENTALLY DISTANCING YOURSELF
IRRITATIONS AND IRRATIONALITIES AN OVERSTATED LIPLOCK
GEOMETRICAL NOTIONS FORM A PASSIONATE ACT
HE WILL FIND YOU DELICIOUS… A METAPHYSICAL SNACK
THE SILLINESS OF YOUR MANICURED NAILS YOUR PAINTED LIPS
YOUR RELATIONS WILL NOT BUILD INTO A COMPLICATED FUTURE
POSSIBLY ONLY A FEW SECONDS OF SHARED JOY
TO FOLLOW HEAVEN’S WISHES YOU MUST KISS THE KODIAK BEAR
TORRENTS OF WARM BLOOD WILL FLOW SWEET WHOLESOME BLOOD
VAIN HEAD AND HEART GO DRY… TEMPTATIONS CEASE
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we continue to pulsate with skinned knee the rehearsals were complete the cheerleaders screamed “bring on the major leagues”…it was the first song of the day – never had any dealings with cheerleaders but once, after a lacrosse match one said she liked my accent. But that was in 1989. In a southernmost state
I was far from home.
checking to see if emails from Rev.Bacon had arrived – nothing
no word from the hinterland –
the schools need LETTERS / WORDS \ WALLS like I need this
used volcanic terms to describe his sex life – eruptions, base surge, ejecta, harmonic tremor – volcano as earths breast – he drew them constantly – excited hourly –
the first few seconds of kissing the bear were ticklish then the teeth then blood cells escaped wounds – THERE ARE NO BEARS IN ENGLAND –
the complicated future you speak of –
of measuring curtains – the same faces each day – futile attempts to fulfil dreams –
taking stock – looking at your life as
serious of economic transactions cancelling each other out – last night, with she in the credit section
a future of staleness
the talk inform the cutlery factory is one of forced sedation – all the calendars have been fired –
a passionate act
premeditated
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she again, transparent, veins like tributaries of a great river, flowing over her metacarpus –
she sees the flow – traces blood with the ink of her pen – her hand /
arm a scribble of ink –
transfixed by swirls
nib of the pen sharp like
broken glass dragons teeth
sharp as a pin –
traded for tales at a market hitchhikers lost
selected paragraphs of the book quoted – cut the words to fit the cloth
she sold splinters
solicited secrets
it’s always been this way
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………………………………..COMMENT 100………………………………………………………….
FLACCID IN A JAR OF MASTURBATIVE JABBER
the pay-off of a lifetime !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
JUST REMEMBER MULTIPLEMICHAEL WAS NON-FLINCHING
I was painted into a corner……..damn bony hands of memory
DID I GO SOUTH WITH MY WORDS ?
the time machine is in my grasp….where do I accelerate ?
IT IS ONE THING TO BE POSSESSED
another to do the possessing
TIME BRINGS US FROM CHILDHOOD TO THE KODIAK KISS
the world of maturity our sexual organs rubbed smooth
SPEAK AND DARE NOT LISTEN TO YOUR FACELESS PETS
questions on the poetic tongue……..night lips speak love
WE CANNOT RESIST THE FLOOD WE ARE NOT NOAH CHILDREN
she with all her simplicity sometimes naked and dramatic
ONE WOMAN ONE MAN AT A PARTICULAR TIME
modern poetry with its threats and terrors of existence
WORDS BECOME GUNS AND BULLETS AND BRING US TOGETHER
only death defeats death and drives out the fear…the loneliness the silence
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SHE HAD A TENDENCY TO TALK ABOUT IDEAS AND FEELINGS
IT IS NO FUN IF YOU EXPECT AN ECHO
HER BONES ARE BESIDE THE RIVER
CEASELESS VOICES FLOW IN THE WATER
A STRANGE FORM OF MEMORY
SHE KISSED A KODIAK
SHE KISSED A KODIAK
THE UNMADE IS THERE SLEEPING ON THE STONES
EXHAUSTED FROM WRESTLING WITH ANGELS
HER SOUL GEOGRAPHICAL…..
PUSH PIN PANGS OF LIFE
FIRE IN WANT OF KINDLING
MEASURE OUT THE WOOD
LOGS FROM THE EDEN GARDEN
BRIGHTEN THE NIGHT
WALKING IN SLEEP
DO NOT TAKE OUT YOUR SECRET SELF
BOTH MALE AND FEMALE UNDER SKIN
EMILY DICKINSON SURFACED
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the perspicacity of her – she knew these comments would come – pre-determined
psychic head third eyed she saw everything – the KODIAK kiss – it wasn’t her face on the passport – and multiple Michael stood, unflinching – the veins of a mountain –
she preformed triage on her feelings – listed priorities – cancelled the appointment with the GP – no more medical hands
touching her and THERE – ape suits at the cleaners raised more questions then answers – WHAT ARE THESE STAINS? THEY NOT COME OUT
the answers transported her back
back to the time before SHE – before the factory existed, just sketches in an architects head – flux capacitor (if only) – jism jar of junk –
talk of feelings never felt – grasping for something – pilfering from the conveyor belt – a mask
a face
the face of a mask
we’ve lived more than a life –
a strong drink is required
infestation / gestation
guns vs butter
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LIVED MORE THAN A LIFE
THE STREET VALUE OF IMAGINATIVE DIALOGUES
POETRY WITH ITS LARGE CODE OF FRAUD AND WOE
REVELATION OUTSIDE THE BLACK BOOK
APPARITIONS ARRESTED BY WORDPRESS
ONLY THE EXCEPTIONAL MOMENTS
ELEVATING AND DELIGHTFUL MOMENTS
PALPITATING
INSPIRATION IN THE SPOTLIGHT
EMILY DICKINSON WITHOUT A SPECK OF DARKNESS
HER GOOD RISES ABOVE ALL LESSER GOODS
SHE HAS THE SNAKE OF GOOD BUT IT IS INTERNAL
AN INTERNAL SNAKE WITHOUT LIMITATION OR CHECK
SHE AND THE SNAKE ARE AT THE MERCY OF THE EROTIC EXTERNAL
BEHOLDER OF THE WEEPING CLAM THE EVE ORGAN RAW
A MASK BELOW THE FACE LIPS LIKE NAKED WORMS
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SUDDEN STABBING ENVY……..”WHY DIDN’T I LOVE THAT ?”
THE TRUE WEIGHT OF EMILY DICKINSON
HER EXTRAORDINARY CROTCH
PECULIAR WITHOUT FUNCTION
AN EMPTY ROOM WITH NO NOISE
POETRY AND PROSE WAS NEXT DOOR
EMILY WITH HER BROWN WORDS
DREAMS ABOUT BEING WRAPPED IN A SHROUD
AND SLEEPING IN A WARM ROOM INSIDE EMILY
SHE WAS CAPABLE OF INFECTING MY WORK
BAREHEADED SHE REPEATEDLY SAID GOODBYE
NEVER REMOVING HER PANTS
WAS I TO BE A FATHER ?
SHE CALLED IT HER JISM JAR
I WAS BEWITCHED BY THE SEMANTIC CIRCLE
COVERED WITH POETRY AND THE LATHER OF LUST
ELUSIVE UNKNOWABLES THOSE LIPS
EMILY DICKINSON INTELLECTUAL PHENOMENA
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a letter waiting – shaky handwriting – letters slanting – hidden meanings – TAKE THIS SEED AND MAKE IT BEAR FRUIT- it instructed –
again the bear
the answers time travelled her
Emily D’s fist line “I lost a world the other day” – where did she lose it? Behind a sofa? Was it lost in transit? –
I need a clairvoyant –
I need a gravedigger to find the polymath
drowning in words
the spew avalanche of
Would EMILY DICKINSON use WordPress? Her best work is behind her – nothing new since 1886 – Leviathan Cutlery wouldn’t accept that slackness –
snake leather skin salesman using her name to sell surname celebrity
– take thee knifes and run
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WEARING ONLY A SEE-THROUGH NEGLIGEE
EMILY DICKINSON WAS INVISIBLE
SHE HAD REJECTED ALL SEXUAL ADVANCES
KISSING ONLY THE RELIGIOUS RELIC
SHE HAD STOLEN
KISSING ONLY THE KODIAK BEAR
SHE HAD ENCOUNTERED
KISSING ALL THE INHABITANTS
OF THE TOWER OF BABEL
GOD COMES WITH WATER
TO FILL YOUR LUNGS
GOD COMES WITH FIRE
ARE YOU COLD ?
TIME-LAPSE PHOTOGRAPHY
CAPTURES EMILY BEHIND A BUSH
MAKING FEMALE DOWN WET
SOMETIMES UNHAPPY ENDINGS
YELLOW SOCK-LIKE POEMS
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kisses until lips disappear – worn – Emily is gums and teeth –
the NEGLIGEE arouses nothing but contempt in the priesthood – they prefer children and lies – they swear on a book that’s hidden in drawers – falling off the runner – dog eared corner turned snapped spine – crippled
the bear Babel baptism burning bush –
symbolic symbolism she just walks through –
she viewed the hurricane from the safety of the womb – amniotic fluid – gushing – the sound of radiator at night – a house settling sleeping slumbering dogs dreaming of bones –
I am not cold – Emily’s body visible under X-ray – pins and needles swallows exposed – shutter speeds capture wisps of
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SO VERY STRANGE TO THINK THAT SOMEONE WOULD X-RAY
A GHOST
IT WAS COMMON FOR TROUBLED FEMALE POETS TO SWALLOW
PINS AND NEEDLES
PUNK FEMALE POETS SWALLOWED FISHHOOKS
EMILY TOLD ME THAT SHE DAILY SWALLOWED
SPECIAL WORDS AND THEN WROTE THEM IN
THE ORDER THAT THEY CAME OUT
I OFTEN ASKED HER TO WASH HER HANDS
SEXUAL INSTINCT BEING THE ROOT
ACCIDENTAL TOUCHING
EARTH TONE TISSUES HIDE THE UNDERLYING
FUR INCREASINGLY UNWIELDY
INTERNAL FUR
SODOMITES GO ABOUT THEIR BUSINESS
CHEERLEADERS DEEP-KNEE ROMANCE
PSYCHOSEXUAL SWALLOWING LOVE
TERMED THE PSYCHOCULINARY APPROACH
EMILY WITH HER ORAL PREOCCUPATION
HER AGENT ADVISED HER TO EATMOREWORDS
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Marie Curie tested x-rays on ghosts – her diaries are full of spectral descriptions – at first she thought they were blurs – chimeras – she tried to catch last words uttered
it was common –
Emily saw the exposures – exposed she was – fur blown by the draft – creeping in through the gaps – cracks –
transformation of the internal monologue to oral escape captured on paper screens
punk pins puncture
cheerleaders cheer
ra-ra-ra
electrical sex spark – a charge – capture in X-ray slate – blunt knifes chip away at syllables
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UNENDING CACKLING ON THE FRANK ZAPPA SONG
IT WAS POSSIBLY THE X-RAY INTERFERENCE FACTOR
WHY DID MARIE CURIE HAVE TO LIVE NEXT DOOR ?
HER SEMIAUTOMATICS WERE NOT WEAPONS
THEY WERE CHILDREN THAT RAN HOT
JUST TURN OFF THE LIGHTS
THEY GLOW
LIKE WATCHFUL LITTLE DEVILS
WITH AGE THEY WOULD DROP THEIR TEETH
COTTON WOULD PLAY CHORUS
SOFT GUMS BRIGHT RED
OUTSIDE A LINEUP OF THE DEAD
UNKNOWN POETS APOSTROPHIZED
“PLOUGHED-UP FIELDS OF WORDS”
EMILY WITH HER SEEDS
AND JISM JAR
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WATCH WHERE YOU WALK HUMAN SKULLS
UNKNOWN POETS AND MEN WITH PROFOUND ORGANS
A FRESH PLOUGHED FIELD OF COLLECTIVE RESURRECTION
FECAL MATTER FROM THE APOCALYPSE IS EVERYWHERE
WHISPERS FROM BLOOD-DRAINED AORTAS
“EMILY DICKINSON IS THE DEATH OF ME”
CHRIST’S LIKENESS AND IMAGE ON EACH SEED
OPPOSING FORCES ARE INFLUENCED
HAS EMILY MASTERMINDED HYBRIDIZATION ?
EMILY WITH HER AXIS BOLD AS LOVE
HER JISM JAR HER EXTRA FINGER DEPTH
SHE WHO SPROUTS METAPHYSICAL TERMINOLOGY
LONG DEAD MOVING HER LIPS
LONG DEAD WRITING SILENT POETRY
LONG DEAD HAVING BEEN LICKED BY FUNERAL STAFF
THE WOLF HAS PLACED HIS TONGUE IN THE BLUE HOLE
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she thought of Frank Zappa when she saw lumpy gravy – jetting jism – she would make jazz noises then –
ghostwritten by a silent partner she never wanted the plaudits and she misheard –
Marie Curie Marvy Cutie –
slip of the tongue torrential saliva filling oral fissures – the fluorescent teeth
tooth milk of the glowing neighbours – warm winter hands against their torsos – warm toast brush the crumbs feed the…
no one wanted to buy the Curie house
the witch cackle of Soviet Geiger counters tracing alpine peaks on the reader – the Curie residence was OFF LIMITS DO NOT ENTER HER/e
she used the Periodic table to write new poems
Marie morphing Emily
psychocutlery, indeed
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Emily’s jism jar was willed to a rotary club of notable heritage & good reputation – they held it in high regards – her jism jar – and like a school pet, once a month an individual was allowed to take it home for personal use…the extra finger depth…
this was annotated in their AGM – footnotes referenced hairs in the jism jar
the ghost of Emily shakes her head
axis bold as love
6s and 9s – confusion over numbers but never with words –
her words were the true magnetic north –
jelly with the juices – hands fondle the skulls looking for telltale signs of things
the morticians lick with necrophiliac tongue – no taste – just cold smooth death –
people congregate to see the seed that begat the tree
Emily, please…
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EMILY ONCE SHOWED ME HER COLLECTION OF SPORES
SHE SAID THAT THEY WERE GIVEN TO HER IN SPECIAL ENVELOPES
THEY CAME FROM COMETARY/METEORITIC SITES
SHE THOUGHT THAT LOTS OF MOLECULES CAME FROM COMETS
COMETS MAY BE AN IMPORTANT FORM OF DELIVERY
JAPANESE SCIENTISTS EAT THIS SORT OF THING UP
LIKE DOGS IN HEAT…….ANYTHING RICH IN AMINO ACIDS
NUCLEOTIDES ARE THEIR ALPHABET
EMILY AND I WOULD LAUGH AT NEANDERTHAL JOKES
SINCE THEY WERE NONSPEAKING THEY POSSIBLY COMMUNICATED
WITH FART-LIKE NOISES………TO THE DISMAY OF THE ELOHIM
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the comet idea has been discussed but it all comes down to timing – no watches can time it – telescopes with eyes spying – you just can’t predict it – that was what they concluded – the men in white lab jackets with secrets buried deep down under skin bone theory – they communicate in equations – a random series of ticks –
The NEANDERTHAL jokes were primarily based on MIME – trapped in ice
running against the wind – hairy fur hands – you get the picture?
comets will smash the place asunder –
ELOHIM is just another name given
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WITH THE CONSTRICTION IN HER LIFE SHE MOVED UPSTAIRS
LESS GERMS AND BETTER RECEPTION OF INTERNAL SNAKE CHARM
SHE AND LAVINIA OFTEN ENTERED INTO THE ECSTASIES
IT WASN’T DIFFICULT AT ALL TO OBTAIN SUPPLIES
$5 AND ONE, “IMMINENT END OF THE WORLD”
ABANDONING THE EGO ONLY TOOK A FEW PUFFS
TOO MANY PUFFS AND IT WAS POLAR BEAR TIME
WHITE CREATURES WERE AMONG HER FAVORITE GLORIES
HEARTBEAT WHITE THIGHS NATURAL GROOVE TONGUE ACTION
EMILY DO LIKE THE BIRDS THE BEES THE UNDERWEAR WITHOUT PEE
NO CANADIAN WORD FOR HOW FAR SHE DID GO….PECULIARLY FLUID
SPLITTING APART IN A PRIMORDIAL LARGENESS BIRTH TO YES-YES-NO
SUCH A WONDERFUL PLACE BOTH DECORATIVE AND FUNCTIONAL
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SINCE CHILDREN STOLE THE FACE OFF THE CLOCK
THERE IS NO TELLING THE TIME
ONE WOULD GUESS IT IS NOW
OLDER BROTHER CAIN HAD TO CORRECT THE FAMILY TREE
ABEL WAS JUST A TAD BIT TOO MUCH NEANDERTHAL
AN INTRIGUING POSSIBILITY ALMOST HUMAN FARTMOUTH
EVEN NAHASH THE SERPENT COULD SPEAK
TALK ABOUT ORAL LEAKS………SOMEONE SPILLED THE BEANS:
THE TOP SECRET PSYCHOCUTLERY PROJECT
WORKING CLASS DRONES HAVE BEEN WORKING 24/7
WHAT A BUZZ AT THE LEVIATHAN CUTLERY
SURGICAL INSTRUMENTS FOR THE SKULL GUTS
ALL DIRT AND FILTH WILL BE CUT OUT OF THE BRAIN
BYE-BYE PHALLUS (SUCH VIRILE SCHEMATICS)
CONCEPTIONS OF THE MAN HORN STICKY
A LONG ANGULAR VOWEL WITH TWO ROUNDED CONSONANTS
LIGHT OUT OF DARKNESS HOPEFULLY LIKE PETER NORTH
JUST A COMMON WEEKDAY NOT A HOLIDAY OR AT GUN POINT
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moved upstairs to confuse the germs the bugs prefer ground level exploration – the clock doesn’t need a face it needs HANDS – hermaphrodite hands rotating pointing accusing the time – in a house of no clocks time is told by shadows cast through curtain-less windows – death shroud clouds suspended above elm –
still no buyers for the Curie house – strange noises
bright lights –
she retired from Salem
she escaped the Gulag
she waved goodbye to the phallus
embraced the hairy bear – remember the fur kisses?
Leviathan Cutlery SPONSORED night time courses in IMMINENT END OF THE WORLD – extra credits given – forced enrolment –
the auditors must be informed of their sharp action – pictures of Emily turned to face the wall – Joan is furious usurped by an older lady – she’s furious but looking at her face you couldn’t tell –
it never changes
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THE TOWN CLOCK WAS A SUMERIAN CLOCK (RARE AND DIFFICULT)
IT HAD A FACE WITH BLUE EYES AND BLOND TURF
WHEN THE FASCICLE CHILDREN STOLE THE FACE
THEY DISARMED THE EYES
AND THE HANDS FROZE
TRYING TO BLOCK OUT
THE RAYS OF THE SUN
AS FAR AS TELLING TIME IN THE DICKINSON HOUSE
SHADOWS WERE HYPER-OCCULT
ONE DID NOT STARE AT THEM
OR ATTEMPT TO TELL TIME BY THEM
EVEN DAY AND NIGHT WERE OFTEN CONFUSED
IT WAS EASY TO KNOW WHICH ROOM
BELONGED TO EMILY
SHE HAD TO EMPTY THE PEE BUCKET OFTEN
BEING WEAK SHE JUST LET THE FLUID
RUN DOWN THE SIDE OF THE HOUSE
A GIANT YELLOW STAIN POINTED TO HER ROOM
LATER IN LIFE WHEN SHE BECAME MORE ILL
THE YELLOW TURNED MORE ORANGE
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I WAS TALKING TO EMILY DICKINSON LAST NIGHT
IN A RATHER PLEASANT DREAM
SHE INFORMED ME OF A QUESTION SHE WOULD
LIKE ANSWERED:
OUR MOON IS TOO LARGE FOR THE SIZE OF
OUR PLANET………WHY DOES EARTH NOT HAVE
MANY SMALLER MOONS RATHER THAN ONE
LARGE ONE ?
TENNESSEE WILLIAMS SAID THAT THERE WERE
SMALLER MOONS IN THE OLD DAYS (BROTHERS
AND SISTERS) BUT THROUGH SOME BIZARRE
KIND OF INCEST THEY BECAME ONE
HE ALSO SAID THAT THE MOON AT ONE TIME
WAS JUST LIKE EARTH AND THEN BAD
THINGS HAPPENED
POSSIBLY WHEN WE LOOK AT THE MOON
WE SHOULD BE REMINDED
WHERE SIN CAN TAKE US
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I WAS COVERED WITH THE SKINS OF BEASTS
GOATS WERE PANTING AT MICK JAGGER
MANY WERE THE SYMBOLS OF BARBARISM
I SAW ONE PHOTOGRAPH OF A FAMOUS
ADOLESCENT LONER
IT WAS A QUASI-PSYCHOTIC DREAM
EMILY DICKINSON WAS HOLDING MY HAND
SHE WAS TELLING ME TO RELAX
I WAS EXPERIENCING HER FIRST YEAR
AT MOUNT HOLYOKE FEMALE SEMINARY
WHY EMILY WHY ?
WHY DID YOU TELL THEM ABOUT THE
SECOND TREE IN THE GARDEN OF EDEN ?
WHY DID YOU TELL THEM THAT YOU
ATE FROM THIS OTHER TREE ?
NOTHING CAN BE AS IT WAS BEFORE
HOW CAN WE HIDE YOUR WINGS ?
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jagger needs no clock – he is older than time – a monolith – no need for a clock – goat head soup fur mask hips thin – head just a skull with lips and teeth – head wobbling on chicken neck – psycho sexual voodoo – he knew Emily – dated her once – holding hands they would stand at the precipice and look at the moons – they spoke of ancient cultures –
Emily’s first poems were written in cuneiform – there was no word for moon, no symbol for cutlery – jagger hid his wings
their love was ephemeral
the colour of her illness: ochre
SEMINARY lies about two trees – one bearing the fruit – the other filled with monkeys bearing simians area chewing branches
Adam was not the first man –
Jagger was
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rolling stones were once stationary mountains – rocks – compressed sentiments – the song said….
“Adam was not the firstman
‘Though the Bible tells us so
There was one created before him
Whose name we do not know
He also lived in the garden
But he had no mouth or eyes
One day Adam came to kill him
And he died beneath these skies”*
I think it’s all true.
Ask the Gideons.
Confer with the lone adolescent over there.
The quasi-scientific cosmology of multiple moons, insestious stars is gaining notoriety – Emily said she watched the moon around her house –
Was her house roofless?
Was her life loveless?
a vanilla scented heliotrope Lavinia shadow
*Silver Jews – credit where credits due
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Emily told me that the evolutionary process
had betrayed the human folk
amphibian headaches and bloating
surrender to the flood each month
vulgarly dripping where
nothing is left to explore
the edges of grizzle
no scab over
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EMILY WITH HER INNER-SKELETON
BIOLOGICAL CLOCK
ORBITAL AND ROTATIONAL
HIPS WITH A SAVANT GAP
SCIENTISTS X-RAYED PROTO-WOMAN
HALF SISTERS WITH BLADE CURVE
HOMINIDS WITH OPEN WOMBS
FATHER KEPT THEM IN THE CELLAR
THEY LACKED NARRATIVE NOT PLOT
FOLKLORIC SEX ONE ANGRY NEED
EMILY SAID THAT IT THROBBED
EVERYTHING FOR THIS ONE THING
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usability as the cause of its being what it is
Emily said that her poetry appears as having
been made for the purpose of being
take man and his birth-made tool
it is an intruder with identity
it has no elbow
yet it elbows others
it seeks touch
sometimes inspiration leaks out
on firmer ground observable
subterranean forces
with tight fingers choking
external pleasure
possibly death
blame the instrument
not the player
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the sycophants and followers will hunt down the unbelievers – a new Salem – reports sent – find those that deny the Emilyness of everything –
invisible lawyers assign shadow men to dig
to search the dirt on YOU / ME / THEN
tactics learned from Joan Rivers –
there were rumours they were going to strap her down – transfuse her blood with newly discovered methods
– bad out
good in –
implant the letters let her configure narrative plot theme
X-ray the ghosts
a new alphabet evolved from amphibious minds – lacking spine – evolve – WE LOST OUR GILLS – new meaning for old words – evolve like religion –
a perfect fit for bored minds –
subterranean grip
release the magma
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the elbow less man remains rigid –
robotic movements of the future – she never saw it coming –
trepanning used to extract newly formed ideas – capture them young was going to be a motto
they took measurements – head to toe – bought her new shoes red shiny like Dorothy
the factory uniform was sack-cloth and branded nervous laughter spilled out
it itched
it itched inside the lips
it throbbed
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A MYSTERIOUS AILMENT
A LOSS OF VITAL POWERS
HONEST PHYSICAL DECLINE
NO IT IS NOT A DESIRE FOR LOVE
POSSIBLY AN EMILY DICKINSON STD
THERE WAS SOME HARDENING
AND FREEZING IN BED
I QUESTIONED HER TONGUELESS WORDS
HER MAGNETIC SPIT DAMPENED
PARALYZED REGIONS
OVERLAPPINGS
ALIEN SHAPES
SIREN-SONGS FROM UFOS
ORGANIC BLASPHEMIES
HOOVES AND HUMAN KNEES
COUPLE UNCOUPLE COUPLE
OCCULTED EROTIC ENERGIES
PHYSICALLY
EMILY WAS A MATHEMATICIAN
IN THE HANDLING OF OUR EQUATIONS
SHE WAS WHOLE SEAMLESS UNDIVIDED
A FREE-FLOATING AGENT
OVER INTO AROUND
AND THROUGH
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floats above like funeral pyre ash
once hot, now cinders,
now embers
cold
floats into the empyrean vastness
above this landscape
and when they come for me I shall say, “I never knew
her, only heard her name, I listened to the
grapevine, I have nothing concrete”.
I will point to toilet stall graffiti, blackboard equations,
unsubstantiated claims on WIKI pages. This is my evidence.
She was elusive will not be pinned down like a
lepidopterists pray
Nothing can be trusted, not the alien movements
amongst the tress, not the end of year audit.
I will say I heard her name in a song,
she sang something sweet for me.
I will remember the factory, the spot at the back of her knee
, the skin, the forks, the words.
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dreams of Emily Dickinson again
she was sleeping in a transparent coffin
she was free from menstruation
sexuality was not to be
life could not force her to overreach herself
she was heavily laced inside her glass tomb
her unconscious was no longer collapsing
SHE WAS SAFE IN HER INERTIA
in our modern times we laugh at primitive orality
oral incorporative desires
immature fixations
the skin, the forks, the words
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I saw her in a TV commercial selling car wax – I saw her on a news report – a riot in Berlin – I saw her in my reflection – morning mirrors –
her menstruation attracted vampires –
crucifixs burns was a rumour started in Eastern Europe – whispers across oceans – her blood was priceless
we scoured the archives for evidence
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uncovered DNA on discarded toothbrush
three black eyes and a returns address
tattoo on forearm – right
below the elbows
missing fingers
it was an accident but still
it made it harder for her to write so she just remembered the words
small packages arrived from unknown senders – in her head she designed foundries – plotted the narrative
discarded rejection letters
letters rejected discarded
she planned
a sabbatical away from the words
thick tongue wiggles meat from between teeth
Amish Jagger has frugal thoughts
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people with short memories rely on each other
( all that stuff with being IN TROUBLE is now over)
I could go overboard but i’m not
the past is floating downstream
the outrage is going….going….gone
I have been having a wonderful time with Emily
my guide is a real chunk of change
she says Emily has a large head with theatrical eyes
that’s like saying “Amish Jagger has frugal thoughts”
dead people are molded in plastic
they often stop mid-sentence
lost time
moving lips without sound
sound is available only to those who aspire membership
death is likely to prove permanent
unshakeable death……..is it like rust ?
does it get worse ?
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some workers at the factory rejected the Copernican model – they whispered their belief in fixed earth theory –
earth is the centre –
the followers of Emily refuted all creationist stories dismissed anything that didn’t place her at the centre
Emily the anchor
adherents to the truth – all else is false.
Google searches for Emily have increased ten fold.
Poet preachers pontificate from the pulpit.
Fakirs in dusty Indian villages sleep on beds of pins – collage of pain – indent skin to get closer to her.
Amish Jagger only enrolled for the free hat.
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SLEEPING IN DEATH COVERED WITH A BLANKET OF SPIDERS
INCONVENIENCES OF THE FLESH
DULL PUSH PINS
IT TAKES MORE PUSH THAN PIN
THEY CALL IT SELF-EXPRESSION
BUDS BLOWN BABY
…………ME, I JUST COMFORT MYSELF WITH EMILY
SHE MAY BE PURITAN
BUT A DAUGHTER OF EVE
IMAGINATION AND A TIGHT MENTAL ALLEGIANCE WITH SEX
CONVINCED IT WAS THE WAY OF GOD
WE RODE THE FLESH LIKE ONE OF THOSE SNOT-NOSE BULLS
A MERCIFUL SATISFACTION FROM A WILD RODEO RIDE
EMILY DICKINSON TENSION RESOLVED
WITHOUT THE DARKNESS ALIENATION AND DISORDER
ASSOCIATED WITH OTHER WORDPRESS POETS
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SOMEONE SAID THAT YOU WERE DRAGGING YOURSELF
TO THE BEDSIDES OF THE DYING ?
ARE YOU STEALING BIBLES OR BREATHS OR BOTH ?
HOARDING MATERIAL FOR FUTURE POSTS ?
JUST REMEMBER THAT NO DISAPPOINTMENT
CAN BE SO HEAVY
THAT IT CANNOT SERVE AS A “CORRECTION”
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I WAS JUST THINKING ABOUT THE NAME, NEBUCHADNEZZAR
FAMOUS FOR THINKING: “THE WORD OF LIFE IT IS MY MEAT”
NOURISHMENT ALIEN TO YOU AND ME
I KNOW WHERE YOU STAND ON YOUR SUBMISSION TO THE WILL OF GOD
SOMEWHAT FORCED………..YOU ARE NOT HAPPY WITH GOD AND HIS ARRANGEMENT
YOU HAVE TAKEN THE BAIT OF THE OTHER SIDE
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at the bedsides of the dying – death rattle lungs – hand reaches for cabinet draw –
breeze blows curtains blow in the breeze
glass of water full of bubbles – stale
they wanted to catch the last earthly breath
– wanted to see how death entered the room –
cobweb cowl monks in the shadows creeping
her sex was transparent
fingers pawed positions never seen before – a high priestess of words – entire sections in discarded libraries devoured
and devoted to her
my family don’t understand the fascination they refuse to read
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A BEAST MUST NEVER BE ASHAMED OF ITS FURRY INSIDE
IT IS THERE THAT ONE CAN EXPERIENCE A FORGOTTEN SLEEP
PURE WHITE PITCH BLACK LACK A BODY SUFFER INDIVIDUALITY
DIDACTIC LOVERS GIVE THE KEYS TO MOAB BACK
THE RAVAGES OF UTAH ARE FOR FUTURE MAN
NO SEED CAN GROW IN THE BARBARIAN SOIL
WEIGHTED WITH CHAINS THE SERPENTS
WAIT FOR HUMAN ERROR
EACH CAVERN WITH A HIGHWAY
AUTOMOBILES ARE WICKED
WITH THE MISERABLE HEAT
RUBBER IS THE TYRANT
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MY FAMILY DON’T UNDERSTAND
THE VALUE OF TINY NURSLINGS
IN THE WOMB
THEY GIVE THE MOTHERS THE SICK EYE
FROM CRADLE TO GRAVE
NEVER A CHANCE TO FEEL
ITSELF BE
THEY REFUSE TO READ
FRAGMENTARY SHALLOW IDEALS
POSSIBLE WATCHWORDS
PREDETERMINATE INTUITIONS
IMPERVIOUS TO WORDS
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forgive the fur
mow it – erase it – burn it – but it will grow back twice as strong – a forest to get lost in – a thickness – no light can penetrate –
plant the seeds
in the
most moist fur
Utah is twice the size of England – more space to bury the bones – more sky at the horizon – rusted wrecks at side of the road – fry eggs on the hoods of cars –
but no coastlines
she is landlocked
talking through a wheezing of asbestos coughs
empty womb waiting
she fired her editor
an inability to balance words
a steady diet of nothing
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(just so we are on the same page: DIDATIC is not a female singer from an island)
a steady diet of nothing would do me a lot of good
I could stop taking the tea bag baths
trying to hide the cup as I type
gonorrhea is in town
there was a whole/hole history of discharges
all the way back to nappy area eruptions
what a dead person wouldn’t give for anticipatory anxiety
to indulge in anything dramatically
possibly a knife fight
my god, does it get any better than a knife fight ?
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ACTUAL FACT: THERE IS NO CANADIAN REPLACEMENT FOR EMILY DICKINSON !!!
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VILLAINIES ON THE LANGUAGE
LIKE TOMATO WORMS DOWN BELOW
THE LIPS OF THOSE WITH LIPS
SOCKETS LONG DRY
UNBUTTONING HER BLOUSE
PEELING HER POTATOES
IMPATIENTLY SMOKING
GIFTS TO THE READER
ONE WORD AT A TIME
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excitement of the
the thrill of
a knife fight – 1950s biker gangs – greased hair – silver blades the blood a contrast in the sun against white tshirt a –
a fat Marlon Brando with a whole chicken hanging from his mouth – it’s wings still flapping – buried under an avalanche of oranges –
knife fights these days aren’t fights
they are random stabbings in public places
the horror I have seen
witnessed
she couldn’t understand these things – her writing during periods of convalescence
she stood at the borders
examined the cross roads
adjusted the vowels and volumes
her didactic tone
The Curie house remains vacant
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she is the chipped tooth
the newly discovered species
a smile on a packed commuter train, a broken lace, bent spine,
pen marks on new shirt, the unread paragraph, the lottery rollover, she is the jackpot of fools gold, the turned page of the corner, a voice, a national treasure in the wrong country, a lost shoe, a new idea.
She is the third floor washed up carcass, an unwanted fetish, a bingo full house, something lost amongst melting snow.
She is roaming fingers penetrating through thin skin, a broken fence where the rabid dogs play, beware the child who never laughs,
an empty swing.
dreaming of words, of configuration, their order
eat more whispers
the yolk
egg
the shell
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VILLAINIES ON THE LANGUAGE
MICROORGANISMS LURKING IN LITERATURE
WORDS WITH DOORKNOBS
PUBLIC BATHROOM POETRY
EVERYWHERE WOUNDED FRAGILE EGOS
MAN-ORGANS WITH WORMLIKE APPEARANCES
RAW MEAT BELUGA STYLE
ALASKA NATIVES WITH JOAN RIVER SPORES
THAT FAR NORTH AND SIZE IS HUMILIATING
TOMATO WORM COMES TO MIND
CAUTIOUS AND FEARFUL
AT THE URINAL
THE BULLY OR THE BULLIED
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THE LIPS OF THOSE WITH LIPS
LOWER BODY PLAYGROUND BEHAVIOUR
THE MIGHTY BAGPIPES
OF DISTENSION OF ABDOMEN
ANTICIPATORY WIND
POSSIBLY SECOND WIND
UNFOLDED WIND FROM A PAWNSHOP
COMMITMENT:
A DIET OF CABBAGE AND BEANS
A SHORTLIVED PASSION
SEEMINGLY OVERDEVELOPED ACADEMIC TYPES
OFTEN BLOW THE LID OFF
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THERE IS NO CHARITY BUT THE DEATH OF RELATIVES
POOR PEOPLE ONLY FEEL LIKE TOURISTS AT FUNERALS
BLACK-CASSOCKED FEMALES AT THE DANCE
RED WELTS ON THEIR CHEEKS
SERVANT GIRLS ?
ONCE INSIDE THEM YOU WILL NEVER FIND THE END
MERELY THE BEGINNING OF NECESSITIES
POISON WOULD BE THE BETTER CHOICE
BIBLE-QUOTING AT THE MENNONITE YOUTH CAMP
ECCENTRICITIES OF COSTUME
REGULATION UNDERWEAR
BELITTLING OF ANY POORER HUMAN BEING
UNDYED HOMESPUN YOUTH
GATHERING IN THE SHADOWS OF FORGOTTEN STRAWS
THE NARROW PATH OF REPRESSION AND DENIAL
MOMMA CALLED HER SQUEEZE BOX ALADDIN’S CAVE
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THERE is NO charity BUT the DEATH of RELATIVES
POOR people ONLY feel LIKE tourists AT funerals
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SHE WAS THE BIG BOOM
SOMEONE DIGGING IN A SUMERIAN TOMB
FOUND AN ARTIFACT THAT LOOKED LIKE JOAN RIVERS
SADLY, THERE WERE TOO MANY FINGERS ON THE HANDS
CONVERTING JOAN IN TIME INTO AN OBJECT OUTSIDE OF TIME
THANK GOD THE GOVERNMENT HAS MONEY TO FUND IT
SEXUAL FEAR AND ANXIETY ARE THE BASIS FOR OUR UNDERSTANDING
THE LOVE OF MASOCHISM………….DEFENSELESS COOKS UP TO REPETITION
CAMERAS ARE UNINHABITED BUT FULL OF GHOSTS
AN ENORMOUS CAST OF SPIRITS
SLEEP IN MY BED
INNER VIBRANCE
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the fish in the tank float to the top – no fish will ever win Jeopardy – memory issues like a broken computer – spell check is incorrect her ponytail replaced with peadophile –
a new structure
new words
she was ovoviparous
self creating in her own atmosphere
the skinned knee self fulfilling the peasants at the funeral steal the clothes of the dead and stay mute at confessional
well thumbed in the pubis mound
the duality of the pain and pleasure a cocktail of guilt the hair -shirt itches scratches on the bible
neon
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she would appear in the appendices – she was mentioned in the footnotes – people would stuff dollars in her mouth and point fingers – obscured behind rearranged syntax – Joan Rivers on the Zapruder tape –
the grassy knoll – there is a subtext here
exposed film in dark room black edifice –
the test tubes of fluids
you will be taxed in Elysian Fields
cosseted inside paragraphs
her Valhalla
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SHE SAID THAT IT WAS YOU THAT MENTIONED THE FOOTNOTES
OLD NIGHTCLUB JOHNNY AND HIS TASTE FOR THE FOOTNOTES
SO-CALLED TEMPERAMENTAL LEANINGS
HELL NAIVE ADOLESCENT JOHNNY
RULES AND JUDGMENTS MEAN NOTHING
IT IS A PUSH PIN WORLD
WITH A WANDERLUST FOR CHEMICAL FORMULATION
FULL MOONY BURDEN PASS THE BATH SALTS
ACCIDENTAL INFLUENCES
PSYCHIC SEX SCARS
FREUDIAN FINGERNAILS
BOYHOOD IN CAPITAL LETTERS
BOYHOOD PHYSIQUE……….A MEMORY TO DISCARD
THE GUY AT THE NEXT URINAL
WITH THE GIANT TOMATO WORM
“ARE YOU FREE TO VISIT MY NOVEL”
DRAMATIC MOMENTS
PSYCHOLOGICAL RESPONSES TO FLESH
IT IS NOT LIKE I HAVE A PREOCCUPATION
ATTRACTIONS AND COMPULSIONS
I ONCE WROTE AN UNPUBLISHED ESSAY
ON TOMATO WORMS
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…………………………………………………there is no charity but the death of relatives
…………………………………………………poor people only feel like tourists at funerals
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SHE CALLED HER PUBIS MOUND:
BERENICE, LIGEIA, MORELLA
IT LEAKED MELANCHOLIA
TERRIBLE STAINS
JOHNNY WITH HIS SYNTAX AND IMAGERY
THE UNBORN BABY IN A GLASS JAR
THE NERVOUS COLLAPSE
DEMENTED TALES OF HIS NUTHOUSE EMPLOYMENT
THERE WAS NO GOING HOME
BAPTIZED AS A PATIENT SUPREME
THEY LET JOHNNY WORK THE LATE SHIFT
DESCENT WAS A GROWING INFATUATION
SO FAR DOWN YOU COULD HEAR THE DEVIL SNORE
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the ancient psychedelic is the yeast that binds – the infection spreads – and when you think back to when all this began there was no plan – just random coincidences – the right choice of words – images painted on the side of a mountain –
whale hunting with bazooka – a primordial imperative to spear and remove the fur
chew the meat
Leonard Cohen epithets quoted at factory down time – you either love him or hate him – he wears a hat –
they want to build airports for ghost planes
her Facebook page exploded under the weight of invisible traffic – you put her on a pedestal –
she was a re-activated sleeper agent – pressed under words –
she bent spoons with her mind – they had plans for – she would be ghost
johnny on the twilight shift masturbating into an open draw, one eye on the moon – mentally writing chapter one of “False Jackals: The history of Pins”
the hermaphrodite hand guided him in
inside her he lost all bearings
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SHE WITH HER ALPHABETICAL DEVICE
I JUST REACHED IN AND YANKED OUT THE COTTAGE CHEESE
SHE SAID THAT SHE WAS A NATURALIST
BUT NOT ON MY BED
DRUNKARDS FAIL AT CENTER MARGIN
STOP BEING AN ELEVATOR AND JUST MOVE FORWARD
PRESIDENT KENNEDY IS ALREADY DEAD
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HE WAS GOING FOR THE PINK
BUT DAMN, HE ENDED UP BLACKBERRYING
MEMORIES OF SYLVIA PLATH AND HER CROTCH
CHILDHOOD SNAPPING TURTLES
CHINESE FINGER PUZZLES
EVEN DADDY-LONG-LEGS HAD TO USE STILTS
AT FIRST YOU THINK OF TICKLING PINCERS
BUT FOR NO REASON IT IS YOKO ONO
SHE SNORTS DEATH ON THE CAROUSEL
THREE POUNDS OF FLESH ON HER BONES
HER VOICE LIKE A HEATHEN COCKATOO
YOKO THE WOMAN OF THE DECADE, YEAR, HOUR
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THE HUSKS THE KERNELS OF YOKO ONO
TRY NOT TO PAY ATTENTION TO HER GENDER
SHE HAS NAILED BOARDS ON THE WINDOWS OF UNIVERSAL MALENESS
SHE IS LIVING IN A ZOMBIE MOVIE
A NON-BREEDER AT 80
WHERE IS SHE GOING ?
LIKE THE CURIE HOUSE SHE REMAINS VACANT
“I MAY BE OLD BUT I AM ANATOMICALLY CORRECT”
A HEALTHY THREE-CORNERED-PELT
THE BABY BOX STILL PINK
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the abstractions run parallel to the protagonists truth – black eye covered with a steak – does this actually work? – meat on eyes? X-ray meat magic – boxers in the ring – the antithesis of black lemonade –
there are many strands now –
many threads which he will tug at unconsciously – inconspicuously – incognito – Yoko Ono married a man one letter away from mine –
Yoko Ono at the yo-yo factory giving guided tours of the last pandemic
the rattling of sabres the sharpening of knifes
zombies outside
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SHE SAID THAT IT WAS YOU THAT MENTIONED THE FOOTNOTES
OLD NIGHTCLUB JOHNNY AND HIS TASTE FOR THE FOOTNOTES
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YOKO IS AT BEST AN ENTANGLED MOTION OF MOLECULES
SHE OFTEN USES SEAN TO DRIVE IN COFFIN NAILS
SHE LOVES TO BURY EMPTY SPACE
SHE IS THE QUEEN OF SELF-ENJOYMENT
HER VOCAL ARTS ARE CLUES TO HER DEPENDENCE ON BODILY FUNCTIONS
HER COCKATOO HAS WENT COCKATOO FOR 80 YEARS
WITH ONLY THREE POUNDS OF FLESH
SHE IS A MESS
(you could get high from her sneeze)
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WHAT A DEAD PERSON WOULDN’T GIVE
FOR A YOKO ONO SNEEZE………..
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IF YOU WERE TO INHALE A YOKO ONO SNEEZE:
YOU WOULD FIND IT DIFFICULT TO MAINTAIN A FABRICATION UNDER QUESTIONING
YOU MIGHT SUFFER AMNESIA AND PARALYSIS OF THE GROIN
YOU MIGHT CARVE SIX HUNDRED AND SIXTY-SIX ON YOUR FOREHEAD
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footnotes
unabridged – the devil
the detail – a good place
to get lost – to hide
to bury unwanted
things
bury them deep in
texts
a labyrinth of words
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nails being driven in concrete
jackhammers
the annoyance of a ticking clock – of time metronomically timed – the shrill scream of a horror movie teen – that is Onos voice – Amish Jaggers secret weapon –
the fly in ointment –
a beach of sand in the Vaseline
a sell by date
expired
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SOMETIMES I TALK TO YOKO LATE AT NIGHT
I PROMISE HER SEDUCTION, HAPPINESS, MARRIAGE
WHAT I COULDN’T DO WITH THAT THREE POUNDS
PEOPLE SAY THAT HER AGE IS A CRIME
I THINK USING SEAN’S HEAD AS A HAMMER IS MORE OF A CRIME
WHEN IT COMES TO BEAUTY SHE HAS THE WEALTH
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THAT SHELL OF A BODY
YOKO AND HER THREE POUNDS
MAKES ME SILLY
WITH AN ATAVISTIC BOND-SENSE
SMALL INSIDE ADOBE WALLS
OUR HARVEST OUR PREPARATIONS
THE SKYSHIP WILL BLACKEN
ALL-TOO-VERBAL POETS
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YOKO HAD THE CAPACITY TO ARRIVE
AT SENSIBLE SCENARIOS
OF LOVEMAKING
REPEATED CLOSE LOOKS
AT ALL THREE POUNDS
WHAT A SUBSTITUTE
FOR A WOMAN
ALTHOUGH SHE DID MOVE
UPON MY WATERS
I COULD SEE
THE CORPSE
INSIDE HER HEAD
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REPERCUSSIONS IN THE REALM OF PRIVATE FEELINGS:
YOKO GAVE ME A MAP OF HER ATROCITIES
HER RECTUM WAS BLUE FROM PLASTIQUE
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YOKO SAID,”OUR CARICATURES ARE LONG DEAD. TAKE THIS SHOVEL AND HOLLOW
OUT THE EARTH SO WE MIGHT HOLD HANDS AS WE FACE DEATH.”
WE BOTH KNEW NO MATTER HOW DEEP WE BURIED OURSELVES, OUR PREVIOUS
LIVES WOULD DIG INTO OUR DEATHS. DIG UNTIL WE WERE FREE ONCE AGAIN
TO CARRY BONES AND FLESH AND WISH WE HAD YOUNGER HAIR.
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Her tinderbox was ignited by scurrying beatles – your fascination with her skin and bones is touching – there is a connection there –
she stood on the top of mountains and told the sky her secrets
she invited me back to her place to listen to black metal, to work on equations, to mesh into positions
we entered the cave at 3:32am
inside we watched reruns of yesterday’s news and we agreed to create history – she opened the fridge bathing the cave in electric light – milk stood next to meat next to meat
black outside she whispered “we’ve come along way from the factory”
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ON THE COVER OF ‘NEW YORKER’
THERE I STAND WITH MY HAND TOUCHING THE RIGHT BUN OF SYLVIA PLATH
RIGHT BEFORE SHE DIED SHE TOOK TO WEARING CAT KIDNEYS
ON THE TOPS OF HER SHOES
EACH ONE WAS DIFFERENTLY SHAPED
CONSTANT SURPRISES……LIFE IS FULL OF ITS SELF
SHE WAS JUST A VISITOR
EYE TO EYE, SYLVIA
BUT WHY DID YOU STAY SO LONG ?
IT WAS NOT THAT HARD TO ESCAPE THE CELL
THE KEY WAS AROUND YOUR NECK
ADDRESSED TO YOU I LEFT A FEW WORDS
GET THE HELL OUT AND TAKE YOUR BREASTS
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I TRY NOT TO BE NEGATIVE BUT SYLVIA PLATH
SHE WAS A CORPSE TO BE ROUGH-HOUSED OUT OF THE GRAVE
IN LIFE SHE USED DEATH LIKE A MILK COW WITH SANDPAPER GLOVES
SLOPPY ORAL PULL OFF SYLVIA INDIRECTLY INSPIRED IRONY GIRL
YOU LIVED SO DAMN LONG………………….BROKEN DOWN NO FIX
ANTIQUATED ALPHABET IN A PUBIC WEAVE
TRADITIONAL COMBINATIONS DOWN-TO-EARTH
FEMALE FAMILIARITY
GENDER REALISM
SUCH AN INSPIRED POET
I HEAR YOU ON YOUTUBE
YOU ARE STILL HERE
NO DEATH FOR YOU
UNRAVELLED VERBAL QUEEN
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AN IMPASSIONED ATTEMPT TO MAKE A PLACE FOR JOAN RIVERS
IMAGES OF STARVING CHILDREN HAUNT HER
THE CHILDREN OF EMPLOYEES OF THE CUTLERY
LIFE IS FULL OF TORTURERS AND VICTIMS
HER RECTUM BLUE FROM DR PLASTIQUE
BETWEEN LOVERS IN AN AIRPLANE POEM
THE SEAT FULL OF BROKEN NEON BULBS
BUSINESS PENISES GROPING
ENORMOUS AND PINK
SACRAMENTAL ELEPHANT TRUNKS
WITH THE OUTER LAYER SKINNED OFF
SHE THOUGHT ABOUT AMERICAN MEN
SHE WOULD NEVER DEFECATE IN PUBLIC
OR TOUCH OLD BONES FROM AFRICA
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ONE DAY AT THE MARKET I CAUGHT YOKO ONO
SLEEPING IN A BIN FULL OF LETTUCE HEADS
SHE WAS BEING TRIVIALIZED
MEN WITH ODD EARS WERE DERIVING
MASTURBATORY PLEASURE
POOR LITTLE RICH GIRL
TIME TO RELEASE THE GRIP
AND MAKE A #2
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the policeman joked about the lettuce heads – he wanted an APB put out on the bodies – he did t share the joke but he knew Yoko would appreciate it
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I see Joan is back – peripheral –
on the peripherally – nestling at the edges but she never went away –
she just lays dormant in a state of hibernation – her teats shrunk and empty – it’s been a long winter for Joan – her starving offspring seek nourishment from others –
during her seasonal torpidity Joan dreamt of business men and Hindu Sadhus with their penises wrapped around sticks – the ascetic appealed –
in my dreams Joan and Yoko fight to the death – Emily (you remember her? How could you forget Emily…)
Emily looks on, her pale forefinger brushes a against her entrance
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DILUTION IS SO IMPORTANT
INK BECOMES DIRTY WATER
I STAND NAKED IN THE HEART OF TRUCHAS, NEW MEXICO
A CRAZED WHITE MAN WITH A 3 POUND YOKO ONO
PEOPLE CONFUSE HER FOR A SMALL CHILD
BUT YOKO IS ANYTHING BUT A TAME RAT
SHE AND I HAVE BEEN SNORTING THE TAOS DUST
YOKO WAS TAUT…SHE HAD A KNIFE AT MY THROAT
“TAKE OFF YOUR CLOTHES”
MY VILLAINIES EXPOSED TO THIS SMALL VILLAGE
THE ONLY THING SEPARATING US WAS HER DEAD EMBODIMENT
HE DIED MIDTHOUGHT PROMPTING SPECULATION FUTILE BACKTRACKING
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YOKO HAD TWO LEGS:
ONE WAS AN UNIFYING FACTOR
THE OTHER WAS AN ORGANIZING PRINCIPLE
IF YOU LICKED THEM THEY TASTED LIKE CHICKEN SOUP
SOMETIMES THINGS TASTE BETTER THAN THEY LOOK
THE SEDUCTIVE ALLUREMENT OF CANARY STICKS
IRRESISTIBLE TO A NIHILIST
ORGAN-GRINDER
WITHOUT AN EXTERNAL ENTRANCE
NOT EVEN FRAGMENTS OF LIPS
“MY DEAR, WITH THIS FLASHLIGHT I CAN SEE THAT YOUR
SEQUIM HAS DROPPED FROM THE GROINED ARCH
AND HAS BEEN DISCARDED OR PLACED IN A MUSEUM.”
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YOKO SAYS THAT HER THREE POUND BODY IS A NUTRIENT MEDIUM
…………HOW DOES SHE COME UP WITH THAT STUFF ?……………………..
TRANSMITTED BY HEREDITY OR DERIVED FROM SPACE SHIPS
YOKO HAD THE PECULIARITIES OF AN UFO ABDUCTEE
THEY WERE VISIBLE IN BLACK AND WHITE
INNER NATURE REVEALING ITSELF
SINGING THINGS NEVER ENTRUSTED TO A HUMAN TONGUE
YOKO ALMOST WASHED AWAY WITH FLOODS OF THOUGHT
SHE WAS NEVER SUBORDINATE
THAT WAS THE ROLE OF HER HUSBAND
THE BEATLE KING
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AN ALIEN IMPULSE WITHIN YOKO
IF YOU FOLLOW WHERE IT LEADS
YOU SHOULD PUT ON RUBBER GLOVES
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THE TOUGH-MINDEDNESS OF YOKO
AMERICA GAVE PEOPLE NERVOUS BREAKDOWNS
UNDERWEAR CATASTROPHES
CROOOKED FINGERS
SHARP KNIVES
HER HUSBAND WAS A PITIFUL APPENDAGE
SHE HAD TO DRAG HIM THROUGH EACH DAY
A LIKABLE FELLOW WITH A CARWRECK MENTALITY
A NEUROTIC RASCAL IN SEARCH OF THE NEXT HIGH
SOMETHING TO SHATTER THE NARROW TENSION
THE DILEMMA OF BEING RICH AND LIVING IN THE NOW
BEING THE BEATLE KING AND MARRIED TO A FOUL BIRD
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ADAM WAS THERE FOR THE REBIRTH RITUALS
PRIMITIVE RACES WERE MAKING WAY FOR FUTURE MAN
SCHOOLMATES IN THE GRAVE NO DIFFERENT THAN YOU
HEAD PROBLEMS AS YOU LOSE YOUR MIND
INEXHAUSTIBLE FEAR…. AM I NEXT ?
WHAT PUT AN END TO THE DREAM OF CHILDHOOD ?
DEAD PEOPLE ARE PHOTOGRAPHED CLINGING TO ILLUSIONS
THEY WERE BUSY MAKING ASSUMPTIONS
EXAGGERATED EXPECTATIONS
AND THEN THE BIRTHDAY CAKE
OF UNDERESTIMATED DIFFICULTIES
THE CANDLES BURNING BRIGHT
WITH UNBEARABLE SENSITIVITY
SEXUAL INSTINCT BLINDED
LESSON ONE
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SHE WAS COVERED WITH DIRT AND STILL MOVING HER LIPS
AT ONE TIME HAD SHE BEEN A SHARK ?
I GET NERVOUS WHEN PEOPLE TAKE FISH OUT OF THEIR LIQUID WORLD
PEOPLE CUT THEIR HEARTS OUT AND THEY STILL BEAT ON THE GROUND
POSSIBLE SOFT SPOTS ON THEIR HEADS ?
FORGOTTEN WORDS PERMIT HORROR TO PUT ON DAINTINESS
A WILD WICKED DESIRE TO CONSUME FORBIDDEN FLESH
BURGLARS IN THE MEAT MARKET
THIEVES AND CUT-PURSES MISERABLE
CONSTANTLY EXAGGERATING THEIR SEX STICKS
THEIR RODS OF FEAR LAMENTATION PAIN
JEALOUS FAITHLESS TORTURED BY THEIR OWN PLEASURE
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MY SCHOOLBUS DRIVER HAD A SOFT SPOT ON HIS HEAD
HE GOT IT IN KOREA FIGHTING MEN FROM CHINA
THE VA PUT A METAL CAP OVER IT
LOTS OF LOCAL MEN HAD THEM
SOMETIMES WHEN A NEW DEVICE CAME ON THE MARKET
THE VA WOULD REPLACE THE CAP
PEOPLE WITH SOFT SPOTS HAVE THE ABILITY TO LOOK DEEP
WITHIN THEMSELVES
THEY DON’T NEED A MIRROR TO SEE BACK THERE
PERCEPTIVE INVESTIGATORS OF THE OCCULT
BLOODY CLAWS TRAIPSED OVER CHRISTIAN CLOTH
EXCITED ABOUT CURTAINS STOLEN FOR SOUP
CRACKER CRUMBS LODGED IN THE CURTAINS
EARTH TONE COTTON CURTAINS INTIMATE FLAVOR
FLIRTATIOUS SOUP WITH VITAMIN C
THE ENVY OF CITRUS FRUIT
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PEOPLE COME TO FLORIDA AND SWIM IN TOXIC WATER
THE WATER NEAR SHORE IS NOT OCEAN WATER
IT IS RUN-OFF
CANAL SOUP
POOP AND TOILET PAPER
WORSE
SOMETIMES FACES WASH UP ON SHORE
HAIR BUT NO EYES
NO ONE EVER CLAIMS THEM
TAX MONEY IS WASTED BURYING THEM
SOME PEOPLE WANT TO FEED THEM TO PELICANS
BUT PELICANS HAVE TO WATCH WHAT THEY EAT
THEY ARE VERY LIMITED COMPARED TO SEAGULLS
WHO EAT BABY DIAPERS IN THE PARKING LOT
IDEALISTS FAINT THE FIRST TIME THEY SEE SUCH A SIGHT
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RAYS OF GLOOM SENT FORTH FROM A DARK SUN
PEOPLED BY TINY SWIMMERS IN ECSTATIC FLUID
SEXUAL ORGAN TRAFFIC UNREADABLE ERUPTIONS
FRENZIED ONSET IN THE TANGLED BOUGHS
SENSITIVE INSTRUMENTS SCIENTIFIC VIBRATIONS
INTELLIGENCE SWITCHED ON BACKDOOR CLINCHING
PREPARATORY LINES IN COMMENTS
READERS SEARCH FOR CURRENCY VALUES
GIDDY PRICK TINGLE WHITE DEVILS CONSUMMATED
THE SHUDDER OF THE DELIGHTED SPIRIT
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IT WAS EASY TO KNOW WHICH ROOM BELONGED TO EMILY WHICH ROOM BELONGED
SHE HAD TO EMPTY THE PEE BUCKET OFTEN EMPTY THE PEE BUCKET OFTEN
BEING WEAK SHE JUST LET THE FLUID RUN DOWN THE SIDE OF THE HOUSE
A GIANT YELLOW STAIN POINTED TO HER ROOM ORANGE LATER IN LIFE
DREADFUL SQUATS WARMTH AND MOTION SUFFOCATING INSECTS
A DILIGENT DRIBBLER EMILY DICKINSON QUEEN OF THE PASSING BREEZE
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seagulls eating baby poop
you can’t recycle diapers – THEY’RE KILLING THE WORLD – let the young shit where they want – YOU CAN SAVE THE WORLD
ONE SHIT
AT A TIME
here we have pigeons who swoop down and steal cigarettes from the mouths of the living
– cancerous birds over head – coughing little lungs spluttering
a generation of pigeons have grown up addicted to cigarettes and due to lack of hands or any means of earning money they have formed vicious gangs terrorising the smoking man somedays the sky is black
once this menace has been eradicated then we can focus on what to do with the featureless faces that keep washing up on shore
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the soft spots evolve into Otis men the Otis men where once soft tops
it started with Korean chemicals
Korean chemicals started it
back then
a design flaw in a new metal cap meant you could stare into yourself and see yourself staring into yourself while staring into yourself – people became transfixed like voodoo zombies – looking at themselves
into themselves
seeing throbbing organs – inside – looking at the back of their own eyes – people claimed they could see thoughts developing
the definition of self wasn’t fixed
the schoolbus driver had an episode – temporal – the papers described it as “out of character”
– his finger blistered up from friction of skin against the trigger – he smelt of cordite and soup –
the bodies were just that
bodies
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Yoko used to share hair with Janis Joplin who borrowed it from Howard Stern who borrowed it from Slash who stole it from Joey Ramone
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DIFFERENT LEVELS OF EXPERIENCE
ALWAYS A GREATER STRETCH OF IMAGINATION
TEST TUBE ESTHETIC SYNTHESIS
YOU CANNOT BE INNOCENT AND KNOW THE HAIR INFORMATION
HOWARD STERN IS STILL AVENGING NATURE’S BROKEN LAW
LISTENING TO RADIO IS BETTER PUNISHMENT THAN CHRISTIAN HELL
SLASH AND JOEY RAMONE ARE SMALL-TIME ANTS
THE LIGHTEST LEAF DOES NOT QUIVER AT THE MENTION OF THEIR NAMES
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IN THE BEGINNING IT WAS MORE DIFFICULT TO KNOW WHICH ROOM
NATURE IMPOSED ON POOR EMILY WITH A HIGH PEE FACTOR
IT WAS THOSE DAMN KIDNEYS SHE INHERITED BEYOND PHYSICS AND ASTRONOMY
PHYSICAL LANDMARKS SHE WOULD PRESS ON EITHER SIDE
AS IF HER HANDS CLUTCHING WERE PASSWORDS
BLOOD-STAINED URINE WAS THE FUTURE REVEALED
HER BODY WAS CORRUPT……SHE WAS TO BECOME VICIOUS AND MISERABLE
AN OVER-SENSITIVE POET WITH NO REFUGE …EVERYTHING WAS HER UNDOING
WORDS WERE BROKEN GLASS THAT SHE COUGHED UP IN ROMANTIC IRONY
THERE WERE LARGER COSMIC OPERATIONS………..MUCH LARGER
EMILY WAS NOT CONFINED TO THE SURFACE OF THE PLANET
FROM HER WINDOW (she called it her windoe) SHE WOULD FOLLOW THE CLOUDS
SHE VISITED THE SECRET CAVES OF THE EARTH WITHOUT APPREHENSION
SOMETIMES SHE WOULD CIRCLE THE ORBITS OF PLANETS WITH A CAPE AND GLOVES
SHE COULD BELCH ELECTRICITY AND EASILY PRODUCE OTHER FORMS OF CRUDENESS
SADLY, LIFE WAS TO BE ONE OF SERVITUDE…..HER GOD WAS ONE OF SHAME
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POETS OFTEN SPEAK OF THE SHADOW OF GOD
THE ANIMATING PRINCIPLE DOES NOT HAVE A SHADOW
THAT IS AN INSULT
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(THIS IS ECCLESIASTICAL AND METAPHYSICAL: EXPLORED AND INTERPRETED)
THE RAPE OF YOKO ONO
AS A YOUNG LADY YOKO WAS VIEWED AS A “LOCK”
EVERY MAN WAS A KEY WANTING TO UNLOCK HER
HER CONSTANT RAPE WAS A MAJOR FORCE OF INERTIA
SHE PRAYED TO PARACELSUS
HE GAVE HER THE KING BEATLE
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MONKEY MAIDS RAKING THE CINDERS OF SOULS BURNED
KOREAN CHEMICALS AND NOXIOUS GASES AND AWAKENED PRONGS
DEEP INTERCOURSE IN THE COALS JOYOUS INTERCOURSE
AN INSTANTANEOUS AND CONSUMING PASSION
NO LONGER A COLD FIRESIDE AND ALIENATED GROIN
(ORIGINAL PURPOSE) LONG ENOUGH TO INSERT
ENSNARED BY THE CHOICEST TIGHT CAVERN
ONLY THEN DOES THE FEAR OF GOD FADE
ONLY THEN DOES THE FEAR OF GOD FADE
ONLY THEN DOES THE FEAR OF GOD FADE
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HIS WIFE THE BLUDGEONING QUEEN WAS NEVER HAPPY WITH HIS POETRY
SHE KILLED THE KITTENS SHE KILLED THE CAT NEXT DOOR
SHE WAS A CAT KILLER DIRT AND NOISE UNRIVALED OBSCENITY
NEW ORDER CAME FROM THE FLOW OF BLOOD
OUT OF CHAOTIC VIOLENCE SHADOWS FROM THE HIGHBEAMS
YOUR FRIENDS SAY THAT POETRY IS HARMLESS FOLLY
YOUTHFULLY SENTIMENTAL SELF-INDULGENT
POETRY THE RICHEST GIFT…….. YET
RESTRAINT INTOLERABLE
YOUR WORDS DEHUMANIZED HER TRANSFORMING HER INTO AN OBJECT
YOUR WORDS WERE COMMODITIES WHICH CAME AT A GREAT EXPENSE
YOUR WISH-FULFILLMENTS WERE AUTHENTIC NIGHTMARES
EVERYWHERE UNDERTONES OF PESSIMISM
NEGATIVE RAPACITY FEEDS THE HUNGRY WORMS
GRAVE WORMS FROM SEXUAL CONSUMMATION
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no one says the poems made then do it – no one blames the words for school rampages or lonely murders in backwaters
death under quivering leaves
the sound of wind scared them when they were in the open –
– she didn’t like his poetry because she couldn’t read words
– it was all one big bloody mess to her – just scribbles – she hid facts under blankets of guilt
stored her fear in the freezer
blamed his poetry when she killed his cat –
the ancient globe in the corner spun – the word was dizzy and off kilter –
it’s the same all over –
she washes her self with the shower head tilted at the right angle –
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…………………………………THE SHOWER HEAD…………………………………………
YOU THOUGHT IT A BAD IDEA BUT SHE BOUGHT THE EVIL EYE MODEL
THE PHALLIC LIKE SHOWER HEAD OF ALL SHOWER HEADS
BETWEEN VISION AND TONGUE YOU KNEW IT WAS GOING TO BE A ROUGH RIDE
YOUR INNER THESAURUS WAS SCREAMING I COULD HEAR IT IN FLORIDA
BACKWARD THROUGH HISTORY BACKWARD THROUGH COLON
THE PARALYZING GAZE OF THE LEGLESS ONE
THE CRUEL FATHER OF BIOLOGY
WE WERE TO SACRIFICE OURSELVES TO THE SHOWERHEAD
NUDE THEATER FIRST…RITUAL EXHIBITIONISM
SUPERHEATED PSYCHE WANTING ITS HERMAPHRODITIC HAND
TRYING TO PULL OUT THE EVIL OF FATHER AFTER FATHER
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THE EVIL EYE IS THE MOTHER OF SELF-IDENTIFICATION
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WHEN YOU WORK AT THE FRONT DESK OF A $1.25 A NIGHT MOTEL YOU GET USED TO PEOPLE SAYING, “I CAN’T STOP LOOKING AT MYSELF.”
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WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE MANHANDLED BY SKINNY CANNIBALS ?
EROTICISM THROUGH AGGRESSION………..FREUD IS KNOCKING AT THE DOOR.
A SMALL TOWN CHRISTMAS PARADE………..YOUR RELATIVES ARE RIDING GOATS.
ALL YOU CAN THINK…………WERE THEY BIG GOATS ?
RELATIVES AND GOATS IN A PROCESSION OF VICES.
CHILDHOOD RESCUERS AND ADMIRERS WAVING IN YOUR DIRECTION.
SOMEONE IS HOLDING UP A CARD THAT SAYS YOU ARE WATCHING.
IT POINTS IN THE DIRECTION YOU ARE SITTING.
HELLO REALITY !!!
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NOW THAT I THINK OF IT…………I THINK THE GOATS WERE ROBOTS
MANUFACTURED IN KENTUCKY BY FEMALE IMPERSONATORS
WHAT AN EVOLUTIONARY GOAL (?)
DUALITY RULES
CHEMICAL AND SURGICAL MANIPULATION
JOAN WITH HER RADICALLY RESCULPTED FACE TIMES TEN
THE GOATS HAD A COCONUT SMELL
THEY ALSO HAD A SLOW SOUTHERN VOICE
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ONE GOAT WAS PREACHING PROMISCUITY
ANOTHER STRONG-ARM VIRGINITY
(THISTLES ARE GUILT-SYMBOLS)
ANY EXPERIMENTS WITH THE GOATS
IS A PERVERSION
“FORBIDDEN MIXTURES”
POSSIBLY TOO BLUNT
ADAM BROKE THE SEAL
EVE SQUEEZED US OUT ONE AT A TIME
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I PULLED OFF THE TURNPIKE AT THE DESPERATE READING SIGN
THE UNPAYABLE DEBT WAS ON MY MIND…THE BURNING LAKE
SELF-CASTRATION WAS NUMBER ONE IN THE DEPOPULATING THE WORLD TOUR
MICK JAGGER SINGING ABOUT THE GUILT IN PLEASURE
HIS SCROTUM JUST AN EMPTY POCKET
TIME WAS NOT ON HIS SIDE
HIS CONSUMER-LIFESTYLE ABOUT OVER
HE COULD DIE WITHIN HIS MEANS
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MICK JAGGER SCISSORED BETWEEN STRONG LEGS
ALL THOSE KISSES WITHOUT FRUIT
STERILE DISCHARGES GRAY
FOUL SMELLING LIKE A TOM-CAT
HE TELLS OTHERS THAT SATAN
GETS HIS HAIR CUT ON EARTH
IT IS OFTEN SAID
“HE NEVER FINISHES A SENTENCE”
IN THIS HOUSE
THE DEATHBED IS THE ONLY BED
CONSUMMATION BY SUFFOCATION
MUCH NONSENSE GOES THROUGH
THE WEATHERED EYE OF THE SERPENT
HOME FROM STINKHOLES AND ROSES
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a three day hiatus away from the words – days spent trying to deny thoughts breathing space – picking at the petals –
pins in voodoo dolls –
the bare bones exposed by jackals and there sharp beaks
this feeling, heavy, unscheduled
weighs more than a hundred Yokos
she told you this would happen – Jagger and his brittle bones weakened by his constant time travelling –
the Kentucky goat factory is under investigation – Leviathan Corps have instructed their legal team –
when Joan’s face droops, excess skin is removed and grafted onto the body of burn victims –
it’s her way of sharing
the hands of the father removed
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NO NEED TO ECONOMIZE, SUNSHINE
ONE MUST KEEP THE FLOW GOING
WITHOUT BREAKING OFF FOR TEA
OR GRANDIOSE
TIGHTENING UP
CONSIDERABLE TIGHTENING UP
SWIFT POUNDING
YOUTHFUL PASSSSION
joan rivers jettisons all the foreboding moments of her life
millions of fish go belly up
terrible anguish washed up on shore
no dishwashing detergent was going to rescue the local birds
why joan ?
WORDS REFLECT THE CONDITION OF OUR SOULS
I WAKE UP TO EMPTINESS
A VERY CRUEL THING TO SAY
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ROBOTIC GOATS PUT A GLINT IN THE EYES OF A HUNGRY KODIAK
………………………………………………………………………………………………………
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the mission statement allows no cut backs – the call to go slow will be rejected – we will only economise in our choice of words – our imagination will not be reined in – but I MUST stop for tea – it’s the English way – engrained – when I go
bury me in a teapot
don’t let me wash up on shore – bloated belly –
belly up
bloated eyes
the terms and conditions of our soul can change – past performance is no guarantee of future performance – tick the box to stop receiving these messages
– T&Cs apply
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DUSTY NOSTRILS SON
SNORTING METH AND OTHER PHENOMENA
AFTER YOU’VE SHOT YOURSELF IN THE HEAD WHY NOT TRY MULTIPLICITY
DON’T SETTLE FOR THE SINGLE VIEWPOINT
SOMETHING THRILLING AND EXCITING
THE FACT THAT IT WILL BE SOON FINISHED
MAKES IT MORE DELIGHTFUL AND WORTH HAVING
NEVER QUESTION THE ULTIMATE COST OF HAPPINESS
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poetry about the motion of a muscle
pricking male buds
in secret mental caverns
physicist and chemist friendly
color photos of black bulls in the night
church ladies knee-deep in sensitive waters
THE CURIE VORTEX CAN BE PUNISHING
magnetic properties may damage the curtains
Marie Curie standing on a shoebox of atomic affinities
waving to Mr. P in the sky… long dead but not gone
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YOKO PROFANED BY SUCH A SON
HER PARCHED 3-BEAN STARVED SELF
BEING THE JUDEO-CHRISTIAN DEVIL THAT I AM
I SHOWED HER THE BULLS OF HOMOEROTIC INFATUATION
SHE WAS WILLING TO EXPOSE HER BOSOM TO ME IF IT WOULD HELP
IMAGES UNCENSORED BY THE INTELLECT
STARS IN THE PUPILS VIBRATING SWOLLEN MYSTERY WORDS
BRUTE ASSERTION… THRILLING RECEPTIVITY
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IN THE OLD DAYS YOU CURSED IN YIDDISH
EVIL NIHILISTIC VIOLATIONS OF LIFE
NOW YOU JUST BURN IN SILENCE
I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN THE UNTHINKABLE ONE
I WAS THE FIRST TO TAKE A PHOTOGRAPH OF HER
( HER BEING SHE)
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FOOTNOTES OFTEN FALL FROM TIME INTO TIMELESSNESS
I SEE YOU WITH YOUR INTRINSIC CIGARETTE
A GOLDEN AGE A GOLDEN DAWN A WORLD WHERE ALEISTER CROWLEY
DID AWAY WITH LAWS AND PREACHED LOVE
“LOVE IS THE LAW”
I know you have an insatiable yearning for quantum mechanics
A NOSTALGIA FOR THE INCONSTANT IRREGULARITY
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she idolised the black bulls – they looked blue under moonlight-
blue and shiny –
muscles taut –
she liked that –
she touched them
and she slept the sleep of the recidivist – plotting and planning like a vein slashed bright and blue – when she went out to look at the blue bulls the moon reminded her of Crowleys head – a shiny dome –
she woke in the golden dawn and devised formulas to show love was separate from the law – not over it or below it her fingers reached inside her
she ensured there were no restrictions
no boundaries she was Joan
pre-determined
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ALL THESE COMMENTS ARE TRANSITIONAL
THEY LEAD US THROUGH THE SAND IN THE HOURGLASS
INCH BY INCH WE CRAWL TO THE BURNING LAKE OF FIRE
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WAS YOKO THE JAPANESE HEIFER OF THE BEATLE KING ?
I HAVE SEEN POSTERS OF HER WHEN SHE WAS YOUNG
CHEWING GRASS IN FRONT OF A QUAINT BARN IN SWITZERLAND
HER PARENTS WERE WEALTHY AND SHE KNEW NOT POVERTY
SHE WAS A HELL OF A CATCH
AN ANARCHIST WITH HEALTHY FALLOPIAN TUBES
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she was neutral during the war and allowed strangers to his bullion inside her –
she weighed 3 stone but her insides were deceptively spacious –
the Beatle king resigned his crown so he could spend retirement exploring her
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the mystery of the double-door birth
UFO infections of the mother
give haste to male birth
our savage neo-child
loitering in the flesh
never male or female
always the outside sex
the wet water closet
one cannot escape primeval liquid
the world of gravitational fluid
Emily never wrote poetry about uterine jellies
or strawberry menstrual albumen
she did tell Thomas Wentworth Higginson
that he could enter the moss covered door
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WE TALK ABOUT IDEAS AND FEELINGS
YET WE FAIL TO CARVE THEM IN STONE
OUR LITTLE WORDS WILL BLOW AWAY
THE PROCESS OF LIFE WILL BE IN RETREAT
MOTHERS WILL THROW THEIR SMALL CHILDREN FROM TREES
“GO EASY WITH ME, GOD……..I AM A HAIRLESS APE”
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TO CRYSTALLIZE MOMENTS OF EMOTIONAL PERCEPTION
DARK AND POTENT SLEEP STATES
BETRAYAL ON THE PILLOW
STRESSING THROUGHOUT THE DAY
DETACHMENT…..NOTHING LIGHT OR HUMOROUS
SNAKES IN THE ROAD WITHOUT THEIR HEADS
MOM AND DAD WITH U-TURN ON THEIR TONGUES
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ATTEMPTS AT ASSIMILATION
UNSUCCESSFUL
CHILDREN ARE VULGAR
AND DIRTY PITIFUL
NOT ONE IN THE LEAST REMARKABLE
I HAVE DREAMS THAT THEY ARE THROWN
FROM THE HIGHEST TREES
AS MODERN ART
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A SATIRE ON CONVENTIONAL MELODRAMA
AN ACT WITHOUT A REVERSE
CULTURED IDLERS STAND AND STARE
INSTEAD OF SYMPATHY FOR THE VICTIMS
THEY APPLAUD THE FLYING CRYBABIES
FULL-LENGTH LIFE WITH GREAT DIFFICULTY
CUT SHORT IN A SINGLE PERFORMANCE
SUFFERINGS SO EASILY PASSED TO JOY
THANK GOD FOR MODERN TIMES
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THE BEATLE KING WAS THE MAIN THREAD
YOKO WOULD WEAVE HIM WITH DELICATE PRECISION
ALWAYS AWARE OF THE TERRIBLE ELECTRIFYING EFFECTS
THE OTHER CHAPS WERE IRRITATIONS
LIKE JOCK ITCH OR RINGWORM
EVERYTHING WAS ALWAYS AT A CROSSROADS
BY LAW EVERYONE WAS A CREATOR AND NOT A REGULAR PERSON
MOTHERS THREW THE SLEEPERS FROM HIGH TREES
YOU COULD HEAR THEIR JOINTS CRACK
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READERS OF NEWSPAPERS MENTION YOUR NAME
YOU ARE GUILTY OF EXHIBITING IMMEDIATE FEELINGS
YOUR PRIVATES IN UNDISGUISED DETAIL ?
UNLEASHED POINT-BLANK
YOU MARCH UNINTIMIDATED
YOU ARE A NUDE WALKER
NO ONE WILL THROW YOU FROM A TREE
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DREAMING SLEEPERS BECOME DEAD BABIES
………………………per Alice Cooper
rectums are laid bare by plastique
Vietnam plastique kisses dead people’s lips
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that is all lies – partially
no one reads newspapers anymore –
some may flick through lonely hearts columns searching for connections –
some lonely heart tries to woe with Emily’s words –
Sagittarius with a good sense of humour seeks etc etc for immediate brutal beatings
aroused and waiting for emails (letters..?!) to arrive – the possibilities of coupling
of viewing what is hidden
is manna
point blank sex explosions
the relief is a two ton butterfly fluttering wings off your chest
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I SAW THE SISTERS OF SHE IN THE COURTYARD
THEY WERE PILING GARBAGE ON TOP OF GARBAGE
SHE WOULD COMPRESS IT AND IT WOULD BECOME SOMETHING NEW
SORT OF A RESURRECTION LIKE READING THE OLD TESTAMENT BACKWARDS
THE RETURN OF THE RIGHTFUL KING/THE SEPARATION OF THE DEMONS
SHEEP-PEOPLE ON ONE SIDE……….GOAT-PEOPLE ON THE OTHER
ANY SATANIC PANIC WILL BE TOSSED UNTO THE FLAMES
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LITTLE LORD JOHNNY SAYS THAT HE WILL PARTLY PARTAKE
PARTLY PARTAKE OF WHAT HE IS
PARTLY PARTAKE OF THE SOMETHING NEW
WHEN HE LOOKS AT THE SUN
HE SEES THE RINGS OF CIRCLES
ALIENATED FROM EARTH
HIS CIGARETTES HIS KAFKA COUGH
IT DOESN’T TAKE FREUD TO TELL YOU MANY THINGS
THE SISTERS OF SHE ARE DEFORMED
THERE JUST WASN’T TIME TO MAKE THEM PERFECT
UTTERING THE WORD OF GOD IS TAXING
THE CONCENTRIC CIRCLES IN THE SKY
HIGH ABOVE DEFORMED BEAUTY
TINY ARMS LIKE A T-REX
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THE HANDS OF THE FATHER REMOVED
REVERSE THE RIGIDITY OF THE TORAH
LIKE SMOOTH BUTTER ON HOT TOAST
JOHNNY BOY ARE YOU JERKING WITH YOUR SELF-MAP ?
REALITY IS AN UNAVOIDABLE CONSEQUENCE
PEOPLE SAY THE SELF-MAP IS A BOOTLEG
DOES IT HAVE A WARNING ?
each ring is an inferior copy of the one in in GOD’S control
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I’VE TURNED THE TELEVISION OFF
ALL MY RELATIVES ARE RIDING GOATS
IT MAY BE A SIGN OF THE HOLY SPIRIT ?
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AS A CHILD I COULD NEVER STOP MY INQUIRING MIND
THERE WAS ALWAYS A VERY LARGE BUILDING WITH HUNDREDS OF WINDOWS
ATLEAST TWO EYES WERE IN EVERY WINDOW LOOKING AT ME
I FELT AS IF THE EYES WOULD CONSUME ME
THERE WERE TOO MANY OF THEM
TOO LITTLE OF ME
AS PSYCHOSIS SETS IN….. THE MIND FRANTICALLY SEEKS TO FIND A SOLUTION
I WOULD TELL MYSELF THAT MY REALITY WAS SELF-MADE
I HAD NOTHING TO FEAR
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PEOPLE DON’T TALK OF THE SKY RINGS
DIVINE MACHINERY IS ALL AROUND US
LADDERS OF EVOLUTION
WHERE I GREW UP……
WOMEN WOULD WRITE NAMES ON PIECES OF PAPER
AND CLIP THEM ON CLOTHES-LINES IN THE SUMMER BREEZE
EACH PAPER HAD ITS OWN VOICE…..TOGETHER A CHORUS
MAGIK HAD NO CONTROL OVER THE EXTERNAL WORLD
MAGIK HAD COMPLETE CONTROL OVER THE INTERNAL
THE SOUL WAS KALEIDOSCOPIC AND PRIVATE
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as a child I spoke to inanimate objects when I saw the faces in the clouds
I saw faces everywhere
the windows rattled in frames like loose teeth in a hurricane
I moved somnambulist slow
trance
the ecstasy of a thousand words
words untold
libraries endless corridors
cocooned the smell
I disappeared with her into the forest
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people don’t talk about sky rings or divinity or their favourite fruit – swallow the pips and wait for the fruit tree to grow inside – I have a meat tree at the end of my garden – steaks blossom at the end of its branches – I water it with wine –
it’s not MAGIK internal like liver
external like her skin – when the wind blows I hear the notes
even over here –
in this town lonely house wife’s pass the time in ways that would make their mothers blush
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TO BREAK INTO A SOCIAL CIRCLE THAT WOULD PREFER TO EXCLUDE YOU
TO DISAPPEAR INTO THE FOREST WITH HER, NUDE EXCEPT FOR INVERTED COMMAS
AN APE WITH AN ENGLISH SPEAKING TONGUE
BY THE SCRUFF OF YOUR NECK, LADY APE GOT HOLD OF YOU
JUST REMEMBER WHAT I TOLD YOU ABOUT SODOMY
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DOES IT BOTHER YOU THAT READERS ASK FOR AN O. HENRY ENDING
TO YOUR WORK ?
WORDPRESS PEOPLE SAY THINGS IN THE WORST OF TASTE
WORDPRESS IS FULL OF HIGHLY-WROUGHT ARTEFACTS !!!
WHAT MODERN POET DOESN’T LIKE TO SNIFF BICYCLE SEATS ?
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IF YOU WISH TO CREATE A MISUNDERSTANDING
THEN STATE, “THE HANDS OF THE FATHER REMOVED”
KENTUCKY MAY BE THE SOURCE OF ALL NEW POETRY
POETS LIKE TO GO OUT AT NIGHT WITH FLASHLIGHTS
EVERYTHING IS NEW AND EXCITING
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THE ZAPPA CHURCH OF ZERO DUMPED A TRUCKLOAD OF PURITANISM
ON THE YARD OF EMILY DICKINSON ( YES, EMILY OF THE FAMOUS SHROUD )
THEY SAY THAT THE MASS IS FULL OF LATENT TENDENCIES
LOCAL CHILDREN HAVE BEEN HAVING A BLAST
PLAYING IN IT
SEVERAL OF THE OLDER BOYS HAVE BEEN SQUEEZING
DROPS OF POETIC ESSENCE
POEMS THAT NO DUCT TAPE CAN MEND
A KIND OF FEELING DIFFUSED IN THE AIR AROUND THEM
LANGUAGE IS FRUIT RIPE AND WET
YOUTH WITH ITS CONTORTIONS
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GLORIFICATION OF SENSUAL INDULGENCE
INTELLECT MAY PASS BEYOND
I WHISPER TO YOU, YOKO
IN SOARING ECSTASY
FOREVER ENTWINED
I LOVE YOU
I LOVE YOU
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WordPress was playing games
denying my existence
refusing entrance
the gatekeeper said NO
yoko was in my dreams
I could see through billet wounds
sitting in a car watching waves
the comfort of warm piss in cold water
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no final interpretation is possible
yet one tormented brown drop
succeeds another
a preoccupation with life
a career after death
who’s to say the milk cow
done gone dry
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POETRY SQUEEZED TO EXTRACT THE LAST DROP
……………….RESTRAINT AND RESPECT PLEASE……
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IN THE MOVIES SOMEONE WILL KILL A LARGE ANIMAL
CUT IT OPEN AND CRAWL INSIDE TO SURVIVE
SEEMS TO ME THAT AFTER 20 MINUTES
YOU WOULD REALIZE THAT YOU HAD MADE A MISTAKE
YOKO HAS BEEN AVOIDING ME
PROBABLY THE JULIAN POSTS
TO PEE IN COLD WATER ?
IS THAT CODE ?
THE CAUSAL VIEW OF WHIZZING IN THE POOL
FEELS GOOD TAKING A LEAK NEXT TO SOMEONE
YOU WOULD NEVER TAKE A LEAK NEXT TO
THE HOSE FILLS GOOD FLOATING IN WATER
TO SHOOT FLUID OUT INTO A FLUID WORLD
WHAT DOES THAT REMIND YOU OF ?
A HOT PEE IN COLD WATER
COUNT ME IN
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SOMEWHERE A WORDPRESS DARLING IS THINKING:
TO PEE IN THE POOL
THE GROSSEST IMPIETY
AND AN ACT UNTHINKABLE
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THOUGHTS ON THIS THEME
TEND TO INTENSIFY THE PLEASURE
AT THE EXPENSE OF OTHERS
TO STRETCH OUT THE ACT
TO PROLONG THE FULFILMENT
TO MAKE MORE INTENSE THE POWERFUL RELEASE
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DID ANYONE RELEASE A STREAM IN THE SCRIPTURAL-HISTORICAL FLOOD ?
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ENDLESS SLEEP IN A SHORT NIGHT
ALL MORTALS MUST GO DOWN
THE PILLOW AND THE BLANKET
DREAM CHATTY UNDER EXAMINATION
LIFE IS AN ACT
BUSY AFFIRMING THAT ACT ?
I NEVER OPEN THE DOOR TO APOLOGISTS
THEY RUIN HISTORY
THEY BIRTHDAY CAKE UNFORTUNATE CIRCUMSTANCES
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I SECRETLY LOOKED INSIDE EMILY’S BODY
THE UNREQUITED LOVE MASS
LOOKED LIKE A WET VIRGINIA HAM
HER UNTAINTED INNOCENCE
MADE ME FEEL GUILTY
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while others will contemplate it as a new art form
the piss Christ
the deluge
urine flood
piss pee on snake bites
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some dreamt about cutting open Yoko and hiding in her – but the lack of fat offered scant salvation – her ribs imprisoned the dreamer – her skin drum tight taught so thin you could see inside – inside Yoko there is no hiding place –
She ignores all and is seeking legal advice from KKs legal team – she has a new haircut – it’s dangerous – all sharp angles – a silhouetted mountain range
she is 63% hair and air
Julian creeps like a stalking butler
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A SCRAMBLED MESSAGE FROM JOHN BOY
IN HIS WAKEFULNESS
UNFINISHED AND ROUGH
ALL GEOGRAPHY INSIDE NOT OUTSIDE
COUSINS BUILDING BUILDINGS INSIDE BUILDINGS
A HOBO NIGHTMARE
SORT-OF-AN AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL EARTHQUAKE
DUCKQUACKS EARTHQUAKES SHAKE BABY SHAKE
YOU DON’T HAVE TO GO ANYWHERE
YOU’RE ALL READY THERE
THE INNER SELF
LITURGIES OF MISUNDERSTANDING
MIRRORED BREATHLESS COMPROMISED
A SCRAMBLED MESSAGE FROM JOHN
A PART-PROCESS IS RELATED TO A WHOLE PROCESS
THE SPIRAL TUBE OF EMILY PHOTOGRAPHED
ALL SHINY ON WORDPRESS
HONEY BOY, THAT WAS NOT A FALLOPIAN TUBE
NOT AN ORIGINAL HOLY FALLOPIAN TUBE
what we see in spirit…….can we express in words ?
POET AND SPIRITUAL VISIONARY
ASCENSION GOES ON 24/7
EVERYTHING RETURNS TO GOD
MY SOUL EXPANDS WHEN I THINK ABOUT IT
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SHE PRESERVED HER VIRGINITY
JUST GUESS THE MOOD OF THAT FLAP
……………………………………………………………
……………………………………………………………
CAPABLE OF BEING PENETRATED
BY THE IMPERISHABLE ESSENCE
MINUS ANY MATHEMATICAL EXPLANATION
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TOOTHPICKS AND PUSH PINS WILL NOT PROTECT YOUR GOATS
I WOULD PRAY FOR RAYS OF DIVINE LIGHT
ONLY THE DIVINE ARMY CAN ERASE THE TRACES OF SATAN
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johnny boys conduits were frazzled ( too much not enough )
blue wire red wire green wire blue wire fired burnt sends garbled messages through filters
on occasions it doesn’t compute rough translations have sharp edges and lead hikers off the beaten path – this is all autobiographical – message clogged in tubes veins Fallopian – flush it out
clear blockage
Johnny boy
the small changes in geography the flap of a wing the removal of the soul hung in the wardrobe for the dinner party tomorrow
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the goats are hemmed in between electric fences that fizz away –
the goats touch the fence daily and build up and immunity to electricity – they harness the power and evolve –
they can channel the charge
their hair is constant pointing up like its divine
they have their own language
they plot revenge on Kentucky
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THE SMALL CHANGES IN GEOGRAPHY
TREACHERY AND MURDER
VILE DOINGS
POETS CEASE TO BE HUMAN
THEY DESTROY MANY DELIGHTFUL THINGS
COMPETING FOR YOKO
THREE POUND EXPRESSIONS
THE HEARTLESS SCAB
FROM AN AMBIGUOUS CARPET BURN
NOT WISE TO GO AT IT LIKE RABID RABBITS
ON CARPET………SEXUAL CARPET BURN
CAREFUL OF DESIRES
THEY BREAK INTO YOUR LIFE
AND DEFEAT YOU
CAREFUL OF ADULT DIAPERS
THEY LEAK AT THE WRONG MOMENTS
WHAT WAS WARM TURNS COLD AND ABSTRACT
ELEVATED POETRY……..EMBRYONIC LOVERS
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JOHNNY BOY THE CONTEMPORARY MAN
PROGRESSIVE CIRCLES FORMULATED
CLOSER AND CLOSER TO THE SPHERES
ENEMY OF DISENCHANTMENT AND SKEPTICISM
ENEMY OF THE FOLKWAYS OF THE PAST
NURSERY RHYMES ARE OUT THE WINDOW
HOWLING BABIES AND BROKEN RUBBERBANDS
EMBARRASSING STORIES ABOUT BROWN THUMBS
NO JOKING MATTER……..IT WASN’T PEANUT BUTTER
EXCLAMATIONS PARALLELISMS OXYMORONS
CHARACTER PORTRAYAL AND LOFTY YOKO
EVOCATIVE YOKO LOVE BANDIT OF THE KING
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impostors are stealing words from the factory –
smuggling them out under itchy robes – lack of ventilation leads to hallucinations – (the authorities have been informed – the inspectors will inspect) –
they said they saw her in the clouds –
syringe theory drip down effect –
astronauts using their helmets as space bongs – aliens viewed through smoke filters – premonitions of Emily
preoccupation with the number and the meat – the contemporary polymath – the human building requires no planning permission
her last postcards said TRITE
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THE MOST DEBILITATING ERROR OF THEM ALL
ANY NUMBER GIVEN TO MEAT
DEVILS AND HUMAN DEVILS GO BY 666 AND 777
BUT MEAT SHOULD NEVER GO BY ANY NUMBER
IF YOU EVER SEE A NUMBER ATTACHED TO MEAT
YOU SHOULD CALL THE COY MISTRESS
SHE IS LICENSED TO SPECULATE ABOUT MEAT NUMBERS
DEMONS FEED FEROCIOUSLY ON ERRORS
SPEAKING OF MEAT AND NUMBERS
I SAW A BLACK MARKET PRICE LIST ON EXOTIC MEATS
WILD PANDA WAS THE MOST EXPENSIVE
DOMESTIC PANDA WAS MORE REASONABLE
HOW WOULD YOU KNOW THE DIFFERENCE ?
…………………………………………………………………….
THEFT FROM THE FACTORY
VIOLATE PATTERNS FOR THE GOOD LIFE
ONE SHOULD AT LEAST TRY TO DETERMINE
HOW THE EMPLOYEES HAVE GONE WRONG
IMPOSTORS ARE STEALING WORDS ?
I HAVE SEEN THOSE VERY WORDS ON WORDPRESS
POETS STAND NAKED WITHOUT SHAME
ANYTHING TO GET THAT LITTLE EXTRA GLOSS
TO SHINE MORE THAN THE NEXT GUY OR GAL
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domestic pandas wear trousers – that’s what sets them apart from wild pandas – but charlatans and snakeskin salesman could put trousers on wild pandas – it’s a minefield where one must tread softly – research on the subject is at best unreliable and at worst propaganda – numbered meat placated the untrained carnivore but when I saw meat with numbers was at an auction –
always sold to the highest bidder – hoarded meat by WordPress hierarchy
The passwords are vague
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THOSE AUCTIONS THAT YOU SPEAK OF
“ACCIDENTAL” EVENTS THAT DO NOT CONFORM
TO COMMON RULE OR THE RED HORN DEVIL LAW
WHERE ONE CAN PURCHASE FRUIT FLIES
OR TAMPONS FROM THE RENAISSANCE
OFTEN FAILING TO PAY SALES TAX
OR LEAVE AN ADDRESS OR NUMBER
NOT THAT ANY OF THE ITEMS WERE STOLEN
OR OBTAINED BY MURDER OR STRONG ARM
NO ONE BOTHERS WITH TORMENTED EXPLICATION
AS LONG AS THE EXOTIC MEAT HITS THE TABLE
“JOHNNY BOY IS GONNA BRING HOME THE PANDA TONIGHT”
I WOULD GUESS THE KODIAK WAS TOO GREASY
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THE SYMMETRIES AND GEOMETRIC CONTOURS OF JOAN RIVERS
EVERY PERSON WITH AN UNDAMAGED BRAIN CLAPS THEIR HANDS
GOOD JOB, JOAN !!! THE MAKE-UP PERSON IS ALWAYS IN COMPLETE CONTROL
SHE OFTEN NODS OUT AND LOOPS “HOUSTON, WE HAVE A CLEAN FACE-LIFT”
IS IT THE RHYTHM RATHER THAN THE BEAT THAT HOLDS THE SECRET ?
( TENSION ACCOMPANIES ALL PSYCHICAL PROCESSES )
most of the important things in life are only secondary effects of content
all emotions and feelings are secondary effects
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THE PLOT DEEPENS THE QUICKSAND THICKENS
MOTIVATIONAL MECHANISMS ARE IN DEMAND AT THE CUTLERY
BEAR DATA IS BEING STOLEN BY ONE-SIDED EMPLOYEES
THEY ARE BECOMING THEIR OWN CARICATURES
NO ONE KNOWS WHY
RECOGNITION AND IDENTIFICATION IS SO DIFFICULT
SEEMS EVERYONE IS RELATED
ALL DNA LOOKS LIKE THE NUMBERS 6 & 9
LOCAL POLICE REFUSE TO DEMONSTRATE THE STRUCTURAL KINSHIP
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THEY ARE PULLING DOWN THE WALLS
BETWEEN DEPARTMENTS AT THE CUTLERY
METRONOME SPEED TICKS AND SKIN PERSPIRATION DRIPS
EVERYTHING IS SUBJECT TO SCIENTIFIC TESTING
PERSONAL DESK DECORATIONS
AND DIXIE CUPS OF SPIT
ARE OUT THE DOOR
YOU CAN HAVE A SMALL AMERICAN FLAG
AND ANY PLAQUE THAT SAYS “GOD BLESS THE CUTLERY”
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WOULD YOU PLEASE RECHECK THE RIVETS
ON HER QUIVERING CROTCH ?
HER SCURRYING BUGS
MAY IGNITE THE TINDERBOX
( I have changed the color of the blueprints )
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ALL POWER TO THE FORK………………….ALL POWER TO THE FORK
taken from nuclear physics, mathematics, psychoanalysis, Amish inhibitions
VAN GOGH NEVER USED A CAMERA
YET HE WAS ABLE TO PAINT THE CONVERSATIONS OF LIGHT RAYS
HE HAD AN INTENSE INTUITIVE FLAIR FOR THE ESSENTIALS
NOT ONLY DID HE SAVE HIS FIRST FORK
BUT HE SLEPT WITH IT INSIDE HIS BACKDOOR
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the cutlery town is not closing down
people are confused about the dead mattresses
they were used to soak up the liquid grating noises
do not be alarmed
sun spots are causing atonal difficulties
shapes, color, sound may sound abstract
they will return to normal
cupcakes will soon look like cupcakes
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the mattress isn’t dead
it’s alive with a 1000 microbes, particles, human effluence and the corpse of a dead junkie – pin pricked arm with Leviathan forks – a stupid grin slack on his face – the mattress is far from dead – the atonal differences are elongated by stretching sound waves – a true vision of Doppler – raging sirens get closer
they may want to close the factory but they know it will kill the town – the cutlery comes off the conveyor belt
it’s melted down and made into cutlery agin the cutlery comes off the conveyor belt it’s melted down…
the Curie house has been moved molecule by molecule to the edge of the frontier
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VAN GOGH ear turned up in Emily’s post – some postcards – money off coupons – the artists ear – severed and yet he could still hear through it –
Emily placed it ornamentally on a mantelpiece above a fireplace and VAN GOGH sat there – miles away -in a chair – surrounded by colours and he listened and heard and eavesdropped and he painted and he took Emily’s words and turned them into pictures –
he hid them in his backdoor –
cutlery and his prose poem
pictures – one ear but happy – a thousand love letters written and never sent
his ear grew back but they never tell you that
Do they
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danger money must be paid to the riveters – life expectancy balanced against job fulfilment –
tea time tales of quivering crotches amuse the children – wife’s blush to divert arousement
riveter a are forbidden to strike
AND JOAN KNOWS THIS
Advantage Joan
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ELABORATE EMBROIDERY AROUND THE STINKHOLE
LAYERED WITH ANXIOUS AFTERTHOUGHT
APES CALL IT SLEEPING AND WAKING
PEOPLE CALL IT ANOTHER DAY
ALL I COULD THINK WAS THERE WAS SOMETHING BROWN
IT WASN’T PEANUT BUTTER
IT CAME FROM THE DARK CIRCLE
BLEACH AND MEDICATION
JOAN SAID, “I CAN’T LIVE UP TO RULE ONE
AND YOU’VE ALL READY SEEN NUMBER TWO”
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the colour changed
depending on the light and the angle it was viewed from – a peanut butter smear – a colony of Dali ants crawl sugary sweet – a barricade at the factory gates – bullhorns and jackhammer screams –
I have a vague recollection of the beginning times – she was there –
the primordial alphabetty soup – the backwash of time
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THERE IS NO COMFORT IN DENYING THE NEED FOR AFFECTION
SHE WOULD SIT IN THE SHADOWS AND EXAMINE HERSELF
THE MIRROR WOULD MAGNIFY THE WOUND
OH LORD, WHAT HAD SHE LOST ?
SOMETHING WAS MISSING
AND IT MUST HAVE HURT LIKE HELL
THE SMALL SAD ROSE WITH JUNGLE FUR
IT HAD NO NAME ONLY MYSTERY AND SHAME
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IN THE BEGINNING TIMES (before the flood or after the flood ?)
THOSE DAMN DALI ANTS
THEY ARE ROOTED IN RELIGIOUS SEX
ONE CANNOT HAVE RELIGIOUS SEX WITHOUT HORDES OF DALI ANTS
THEY NOT ONLY SUCK UP THE EXCESS LIQUIDS/FLUIDS
THEIR BITES SUPPLY THE NECESSARY STIMULUS
THE CRIES, SHOUTS, WEEPINGS
AND FINALLY THE LEAPINGS
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IN THE CURLY INTELLECT……AN ARMPIT VAGINA
YOU CAN GO FOR A RIDE BUT IT WON’T BE LUCKY
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armpit vagina fears the cold blast of deodorant – it burns – the armpit vagina perspires
perspiration
Joan wanted one
Emily had one but had to keep it secret
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Yokos was avant garde and made noises – Sean was embarrassed and always walked four foot behind her – it made growling noises – a muffled dog bark – a stifled yelp – a lupine howl –
Yoko made casts and moulds and displayed them on plinths –
they were audible
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YOU ARE A RATHER TOLERANT MAN
SO FAR NORTH OF LONDON
THAT I’M SURPRISED YOU SPELL
GOAT WITH A ‘G’
DEVILS CAUSE PEOPLE TO STRAY
IN THE TURBID NIGHT THEY FONDLE GOATS
WE ARE TAUGHT TO DISLIKE RUSSIANS
AND PEOPLE WITH STRANGE HEADGEAR
IF IT LOOKS LIKE A HORNET’S NEST
YOU BEST MOVE ON
GREATER CONSEQUENCES
THAN HEAT AND COLD
WE ARE TAUGHT TO OUTLIVE OUR SHOES
TO AVOID DECAY AND TUMOR PUS
YOU ARE A RATHER TOLERANT MAN
SO FAR NORTH OF LONDON
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COLD VENOM FROM A COLD SERPENT
DEMONIC PRINCIPLES ARE AT WORK
IN THE CUTLERY
ON THE CURIE HOUSE MATTRESS
INFLATABLE SACKS FOR LUNGS
POOR MARIE WAS UP LATE AT NIGHT
TALKING ABOUT ENLIGHTENMENT
SHE WAS A REVOLUTIONARY GIRL
AGENTS CAME AND AGENTS LEFT
GLOW IN THE DARK SPIRITUAL PATHS
SHE LOOKED UPON LIFE WITH IRONY
NO LOVE NO FREEDOM…..JUST BLOW IT UP
STOP THE STRUGGLE…CRASH THE FUTURE !!!
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crash the future
blunt the knifes
DE-PRONG THE FORKS
– little plastic bags for lungs –
a heart made in Taiwan by the tiny hands of tiny children tethered to the system – the heart beats weakly –
the electricity was on the fritz – blinking lightbulbs strobing stalling the enLIGHTenment – but the path is illuminated by fireflies and the red hot cherry of your Italian cigarettes –
she was naked and sucked the venom clean out of me
I tend my sheep lonely in the Milky Way – empty and in the middle
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metronomic unbalance arthritic arms can’t keep time
a clock with no hands is still a clock digital symbols replace limbs
so far north at the edge of this island time exists inside and outside of itself – I’m going to move to a cabin – away from buildings with multiple windows and Otis men on call 36hours a day 9days a week –
the landscape is melting hebephrenia advanced inside
I am a patient man – ask Yoko for a reference
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the possibility of things being better than they are observed to be
painful limitations of personality….stepping on a nail in a board
views from a stolen lens…ambiguous shapes in the shadows
provocative pleasures in the break room…courteously performed
not by a conch vagina but rather a healthy armpit vagina
no need for corrections the doodle went in nicely
explicit and overly explicit unexpressed love
sacrificing heaven for the sake of playing roles
IN NORMAL LIFE I STEPPED ON A NAIL IN A BOARD
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the traditional remedy for madness
THREE BIG MEN BEAT YOU UNTIL YOU PASS OUT
they do it in the back out of sight of the television room
THEY MOCK YOUR TENDENCY TO SEE YOURSELF AS THE WANG-NOODLE
you have soft dreams about a Parisienne ….your first armpit vagina
DRAMATIZATION COMPLETE WITH DIFFERENT VOICES
you are living your autobiography
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THE PASSWORDS ARE YOUR PREJUDICES AND BLIND SPOTS
YOU LIVE SO NORTH OF LONDON
THAT I’M SURPRISED YOU SPELL
VAGUE WITH A ‘V’
the word…organ-grinder…has nothing to do with street musicians
POEMS BY A GRAVE-DIGGER WITH GOAT-LIKE BUTTOCKS
HIS EMPLOYMENT IS IN HIS PANTS
……stream-of-consciousness……………………….
AT HAND……IN HAND………THOUGHT-PROCESSES VERBATIM
VERY DIFFICULT TO DO
EASIER TO PULL DOWN YOUR PANTS AND SHAKE YOUR BEHIND
FREE ASSOCIATION…..INTERIOR/INTERNAL COMMON THOUGHT
FULLY-CONSCIOUS IS THE ENEMY OF SPONTANEOUS
THOUGHTS JUMP FROM ONE SUBJECT TO ANOTHER
SHORT SENTENCES WITH THICK HEADS
LONG LEAN SENTENCES
ABBREVIATED FORESKIN
DELIBERATE MANIPULATION
COME TO TERMS WITH SPECIFIC EVENTS
ANGELS IN THE ROOM….SURROUNDINGS
OTHER HUMANS IMPINGE……OUCH !!!
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POOR YOKO, HER REMAINS THROWN IN THE GRAVE
A SIMULACRUM OF A HUMAN BEING
A BAG OF ATOMS
HER TEXT WAS WRITTEN BUT NEVER READ
WAS SHE A STAR………..OR JUST FILTHY RICH ???
homeless people turned their backs on her
she was full of decay
she was moving towards ruin
singing songs to people
as if they were deaf
she was “RAW”
I found humor in her museum performance
she was a 3 pound bag of internal fur on stilts
she screamed like an 80 yr old baby
people took photographs
people captured it on their HD smartphones
it was “NOW”
all I could think………..where is the Beatle King ?
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dirty birds salty worms prefabricated text
nothing truly destroyed Yoko back from the dead
recycled internal fur polished stilts $7 in quarters
giggle in my ear, Yoko
we will create ‘du nouveau’
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when Yoko directs my passion she wears gloves
she says that I am a dirty bird with a dirty worm
shifting impressions…floating sensibilities
I could smell her armpit vagina
people have fixed ideas about that kind of thing
I take life one whiff at a time
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VARIATIONS ON A RECOGNIZABLE MOTEL
INHABIT A ROOM THAT OFFERS NOTHING
MORE SUBSTANTIAL THAN A BED AND A BATHROOM
IN FLORIDA ONE WOULD SAY “JOHN”
THE TOILET IS KNOWN AS A “JOHN”
A PLACE OF INTELLECTUAL ACUTENESS
WIT AND ANAL ALPHABETS
DOWN-TO-EARTH FLOATING BROWN
……………………………………………………….FIXED IDEAS ARE BEING BROKEN DOWN
REWRITING VARIATIONS ON STEPPING ON A NAIL LODGED IN A BOARD
THE PAST IS REMEMBERED DIFFERENTLY EVERY 5 MINUTES
WHAT DOES IT TAKE TO TRIGGER A RECALL, JOHNNY BOY ?
YOU SEEM FLUENT IN JINGLES AND OVERLY EDUCATED
YOU APPROPRIATE HISTORY
NO NEED FOR APOLOGY
WE INHABIT A CHALLENGING WORLD
ELLIPTICAL………………………………………
…………………………………….SHE…………………………………………………………….
SHE LOVED TO BRING LOST HITCHHIKERS HOME
THE BACKYARD IS FULL OF THEM
OFTEN SHE WALKS BAREFOOT ON THEIR FINGERTIPS
………………………………………………………………………………………………………….
ARE YOU COMMITTED TO HEAR HER OUT ?
SHE IS SPEAKING TO YOU…….ARE YOU LISTENING ?
THE PROPORTIONS OF YOUR GROIN
DOES IT MAKE YOU SIR STRADIVARIUS ?
A MIND SO FULL OF ARCHITECTURE
CHARACTERISTIC HELLO KITTY PUSH PINS
A STROKE OF YOUR BOW AND MISTER VIOLIN
POINTS NORTH……….CALCULATED PETER NORTH
PLAGUES OF QUESTIONS…POETIC GENIUS HOURGLASS
SAND OVERFLOWED AND TIME LOST VALUE
HARMLESS WORDS TO YOKO AND JOAN
SHARP DARTS THROWN IN THE MUSEUM OF LOVE
INDIVIDUALISM AND ARMPIT VAGINA JELLY
A VAGINA PULLED TOO TAUT
A WELL-DEFINED VAGINA PULLED TOO TIGHT
I REMEMBER WANTING “FRESH AIR”
POETS DOGGEDLY PURSUED BY THE SMELL
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the sight of ears pricked up
the sound of Yoko singing
the hourglass full of Dali ants
no higher pleasure than
touching Sebastian Bach
he thinks Yoko
is a dark organism
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the hitchhiker collection is a work of modern art – tip toe through the bodies –
(come as a liberator not a conquistador)
hitchhiker backpacks filled with reject manuscripts and tinned food – these small attempts at survival – these small things
Yoko was no bigger than a thumb
avoid the plank
avoid the nails and broken children’s toys – going barefoot in this world is asking for trouble – tread softly poet – words are as dangerous as mountains –
john the person
john the receptacle
johnnyboy
all work and no play
broken key on the typewriter /
missing letters leads to the detective arresting the wrong man
it’s raining and she is leaking at the entrance –
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her singing voice shock tremor needles on weather stations east of the Urals- the ants scurried –
animals picked up the smallest nuances of the atmospheric changes –
cold poets turned in long dug graves
she could smash a crystal glass five fathoms away
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your birthday card had an image of Jove frowning
you’ve been a bad boy, John
Jove is frowning in heaven
and you must face the severity of his judgment
what will exorcize your demon of guilt ?
Johnny Cash would call you an undisciplined young man
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FORCEFULLY HUSBAND-LIKE …..UNSPIRITUAL PLEASURES
WITH THAT TINY UNDERARM WRINKLE…THE FEMALE SLIT
DID YOU NOTICE HOW WATERMELON RED INSIDE IT WAS ?
THAT HAUNTINGLY FAMILIAR SMELL ?
“ME THOUGHT YOU MUST CLEAVE AND NEVER ROAM”
YOU WITH YOUR ROMANTIC WATERS AND HIGHLAND CHARM
GOOD FOR STRANGE FITS OF PASSION
AND GROW-WORM-GROW
THE THICK HARD WOOD OF MR STRADIVARIUS
SPONTANEOUS IN POINTING NORTH
A TRUE PETER NORTH
POSSIBLY DEFORMED
NEVER IN FEAR OF ANY RIVAL
YOKO SANG FOR 20 MINUTES ABOUT HER RAVISHMENT
“IT WAS A LOVER’S HORN ALL SWOLLEN AND BLUE THAT RAVISHED MY BLOOM”
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THERE WERE HETEROSEXUAL SPLINTERS UNDER THE NAILS
ROUGH-AND-TUMBLE TRADE IN CHILDHOOD MEMORIES
LIKE-MINDED SISTERS AND BROTHERS IN THE SKIN CIRCUS
PEOPLE SELDOM TALK OF THE ORIGIN…THE ORIGIN OF TROUBLE
IMPORTANT EVIDENCE BURIED IN A CLOSED CIRCLE
DATES ON THE CALENDAR BLEED ENTERTAINMENT
EVEN TODAY… ESPECIALLY TODAY… THIS DAY
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COMMENT # 300 SHE: EATMOREWORDS
…………………………………………………………….
WORDS BECOME THE HELPMATE OF LATER YEARS
THE BRIDGE TO CHILDHOOD ASSOCIATIONS
LONG WASHED OUT AND GONE
NO LONGER TRACES OF MATURATION
LODGED IN OVERHANGING BRANCHES
UNACCEPTABLE MEMORIES CENSORED
TO PROTECT THE INNOCENT…THE PHANTOMS
THE GERMS ARE EVERYWHERE
SACRIFICES, SORROW, GUILT
A GIANT INCESTUOUS SCAB
TRIUMPHANT OVER CIRCUMSTANCE
PRURIENT INTERESTS DISSOLVED
EACH BLAST OF SATAN FLUNG BACK
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you studied her under a microscope – looked at her through lenses – stuck her on a microfiche – she reacted differently based on temperature – hunger – external influences – the proximity to the meridian – sea monsters thrashed inside her eyes
– like a siren calling she would guide you in cheery red all the way to the end
she wouldn’t blush
ever
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300
300
300
words memories mingle converge from factory to the grave Joan Yoko KK Emily the crown of the Beatle King
for ever up and down the Otis men have no fear of vertigo the Gideons single minded pursuit of seeing the inside of every hotel room in the world the scuffed carpet the empty fridge
onlookers look on
those unaware (there are some) are ignorant to the cutlery
she was magnetic and broke all the compasses
301
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THE INSTRUCTOR WAS FROM PARIS AND HIS NUMBERS DIDN’T ADD UP
A MARCH OF NUMBERS TO THE TRANSMUTATION OF EMOTION INTO POETRY
HIS GOLDEN NUGGETS THE SIZE OF GOOSE EGGS…POETICALLY TRIUMPHANT
HIS WIFE WITH HER LOWER WOUND ACKNOWLEDGES HIS HANDSOME JEWELS
A THREE-HOUR POKE TO BEAR TO THE GRAVE
ROUND AND ROUND AND THEN DARK TO MORE DARK
TO HELL WITH A PROPER AND ACCEPTABLE SUBSTITUTE
YOUR LUNGS ARE WORKING BUT ARE YOU REALLY BREATHING ?
ROVING BOY IN THE SCHOOLYARD OF LUST
WANG-DANG MANEUVERS ON WORDPRESS
TRYING TO STIMULATE THINKING ON THE PART OF OTHERS
THE CASUAL OBSERVER WILL MISS OUT
LIFE IS ALWAYS PLAYING TRICKS ON THOSE FOLKS
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THE FAILURE OF THE GRILLED CHEESE RESTRAUNT
NO CABBAGES OR ACCIDENTAL TROUSER STEAKS (SNAKES)
ONE HIPPY SAID, “THE BREAD WAS LIKE BLANK VERSE”
EGO BOUNDARIES WERE SHARP EDGED
THE DEPLETION OF SELF-LOVE
EAGERNESS
JOHNNY BOY
RELUCTANCE
FREUD STANDS IN YOUR FACE
HE HAS ROBBED ME OF MY CRY
I AM REAL BUT HALF HIDDEN
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THE GRILLED CHEESE RESTRAUNT CLOSED DOWN
INDIGENOUS TO THE DEAD MATTRESS
MURMURING MITES
UNCONSCIOUS INTERCOURSE
APPETITES FOR SUCH A THING
ONE EYE CLOSE TWO EYE CLOSE
IMMEDIATE SENSUOUS STIMULI
GOOD GOD, AM I A BUGGER ?
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THE TRUE MAGNETIC NORTH NEVER POINTS TO WEDLOCK
SLEEPING CURLED UP WITH EROTICISM
STARVATION LONG DEAD
SENSATION AND IMAGINATION HOG-TIED
FREUD DEAD AND ERASED
EMILY DICKINSON LUBED
ON TONIGHT’S PLATE
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OVER 300 IN THE HAREM
OFTEN WORDS NOT ANALYZED
POETIC PRATTLE ?
COMING TO THE SURFACE
ESSENTIAL INGREDIENTS
PSYCHIC COMPLEXITY
IMAGINATIVE DATA
UNTROUBLED ISOLATION
HISTORY IN HOTPANTS
ADAM
SUFFERING AND SKINNY
LOVED ONES
HE COULD NOT BEAR
SUGGESTIVE YOKO
SUGGESTIVE JOAN
CLIMACTIC EMILY
WHO WROTE,
“the soul comes from an orifice down below”
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“THE SOUL COMES FROM AN ORIFICE DOWN BELOW”
………………………………………………………Emily Dickinson
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all through history really intelligent people have asked, “why would the soul come from there ?”
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YOU SEEM A TAD BIT PALE…ONLY A GHOST OF YOUR FORMER SELF
MOST OF YOUR WORDS ARE IN CARDBOARD BOXES ON THE STREET
“INSEPARABLE”
“UNRELENTING STORM”
THE BRIGHT BEAUTY AND SATIN GONE
MODERN MENTALITY IS THE NEW WAVE
LOTTERY TICKET RELIGION
YOU WITH YOUR ELEMENTS OF CHANCE
INCAPABLE OF MEASUREMENT
NOTHING CONFLICTING IN YOUR UNDIES
PREOCCUPATION SEEMS NORMAL
TOUCH THE FIRE-ENGINE PULL THE HOSE
A HANDSOME FELLOW… A GROWER
………..WHY ARE YOUR WORDS IN CARDBOARD BOXES ?
YOUR SIDEKICK HAS TURNED OUT TO BE A HUCKSTER
HEREDITARY BITES LIKE A KENTUCKY DERBY GIRL
FLOATING SWEETS YOUR FINGERS LIKE FLESH CARROTS
I told you 2000 times to get an android
CYBERNETIC ORGANISM FOR ORGASM
SOMETHING SIMPLE AND FUNCTIONAL
but no………..your mate had to have Jesus Flesh
NOT PLASTIC AND METAL
DO YOU REMEMBER WHEN SHE SWITCHED HER CROTCH OFF ?
WITH A HINT OF MENACE SHE PUSHED YOU TO SOLO
A POTATO PICKER NORTH OF PUBLISH TOWN
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street level the same old cars amongst litter people and their feet slapping down – it was outside the chemist pharmacy she fell through the drain hole – pencil thin horizontal (we all know Yoko weighs no more than the hair on her head)
she fell into the underbelly of the city – she fell into the dirty veins unseen – disorientated amongst the smell of human waste – toes in excremental – lost inside the underneath
Julian laughed big
Sean cried for the loss of his mother keeper –
(She resurfaced weeks later in the Florida coast line – her eyes now dead opals)
the Beatles king was neglected – no soft touches until she returned her skinny hands missing no touchy – to selfish for self love
his love was backed up and curdled custard
he was kept up at night thinking if there was a god why would he make the soul shoot out of a piss organ?
Who was having the last laugh?
Us god the androids her?
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Dick-in-son…?
the unyielding calloused hands of a bad dad – the soft walk between doors – (check his file…please…)
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the words are in boxes
left out in the rain the boxes disintegrate
and the words wash down the street – dogs lick at the words and now speak with my voice
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pale as the blood is drained
she is like me
aghast at the the world
insofar as here,
this place,
attempts to be spontaneous
(THERE’S A TIME AND PLACE FOR THIS),
come across as contrived
forced
poems by numbers
google it
cut it up
give it to the machine
a total lack of self – it’s cold
it’s what they will make in the factory when the world turns its back on cutlery in favour of fingers
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ORANGE CARROT FINGERS WHEN THE WORLD TURNS ITS BACK ON CUTLERY
A TOTAL LACK OF SELF………me at work each and every day
LACK OF SELF………..THE PERFECT PSYCHO-COLOR TO COLOR MYSELF
I SMILE AND REMAIN RANDOM
THE WORKPLACE IS A GIANT HIVE OF SWARMING BUTT-CRACKS
ZOMBIES BUT NOT THE BRAIN-EATING KIND
I KINDA WISH THEY WERE THE “MOVIE” KIND
FAULTS AND FLAWS AND EXTRA LOVERS
AND AN OLD SOCIAL DISEASE
and possibly a new STD
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JOHNNY BOY…..THE INVISIBLE TIES BY WHICH POETS ARE BOUND
LABORATORY RATS ON WORDPRESS
ONE OF US SCHOOLED IN “ELEVATOR”
Mister Otis of the Naturalists 2013
BY THE VIRTUE OF YOUR INSTRUMENT
TRUTHFUL LANGUAGE: FUZZY PHYSICS AND CHEMISTRY
FLIGHTS INTO THE ABSTRACT: LOIN WITH TWO CUPS
THE STRING GOES UP THE BACK
excuse me, something is sniffing the air
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SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………….SHE
APPROPRIATELY WORDLESS SHE SAYS
JOHNNY BOY… FULL-FACE DISUNITY
YOU ARE FRIGHTENED BY THE LACK OF SYMMETRY
LIFE LIKE A REFLECTION IN WATER
A REALITY SWIRL
PRESENCE VERSUS DISTANCE
37 YEARS OF DRY-HUMP SCHOOL
A DOZEN OR MORE PINCHES OF DISORDER
SURGES AND WITHDRAWALS…MILKY GLOBS
UPBEAT JOHNNY…ALWAYS QUIRKIER AND MORE PLAYFUL
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I CALLED FREUD AND READ HIM ONE OF YOUR LINES:
dogs lick at the words and now speak with my voice
HE WAS TROUBLED BY YOUR WORDS
“A REAL UNDERTOW”
IN JOHNNY’S WORLD THERE ARE NO REAL PEOPLE
ONLY LIVING PHOTOGRAPHS
THE SELF IS AN ISOLATED CELL
HIS OTHER HALF PUT EVERYTHING IN BOXES
ENCLOSURES OF MIND
WORDS WORDS WORDS
PAINFUL CURRENTS OF FEELING
PHYSICAL PLEASURES TOO RISQUE
FOR BIBLE OR PARTICULAR DOG
NAKED AND PINK AROUND YOUR WORD BOX
GIVE-AND-TAKE…..EARLY-AND-LATE
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EMILY SAID “ADDRESS” BUT THE CAPTAIN THOUGHT SHE SAID “UNDRESS”
MADE FOR AN INTERESTING EVENING
SHE CALLED IT HER PEACOCK ROOM
RED-VESTED BETWEEN THE THIGHS
THE POCKET TOOK A POKING
THE SMELL OF BARELEGGED CABBAGE
YOU NO SOONER FINISHED
WHEN SHE PUT YOUR WORDS IN BOXES
THE CIRCLE OF INFLUENCE HAD CLOSED
A YELLOW STREAM WITH NO STOPPER
BACK AND FORTH AND BACK AND FORTH
JOHNNY BOY ANATOMICALLY CORRECT
EMILY GENDER BENDER:
HER THREE-CORNERED PELT
ONLY INCHES FROM DELICIOUS SIN
THE INWARD MAIDEN MOURNS YES
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manyMichaels under the Floridian sun never more than 10foot away from an octogenarian organ
skin redneck leather – near death and dressed like a retired pro-am golfer –
fading memories of female pelts wartime incendiaries landing crotch itch bought back from places most kids can’t find on an atlas
the hidden points of geography magnetic north is losing its ability to guide you home the North Star
is fading
on Hollywood boulevard they have asked a computer programme to imprint itself in concrete but no poet
WordPress alumni won’t turn up to the reunion
the portal needs fixing it makes noises like and angry cat she purrs when I suggest things
The portal marionette jerks the strings to watch them dance a dance of spastic movements death throes jutting fat tongue
the Beatle king sunbathes in a leather jacket
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at a party she asked me if I flarfed – madam I’m not that kind of man I said
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BLASPHEMY……………………….PURE SWEET BLASPHEMY !!!
THE DAY ON THE CALENDAR IS CLOSE
TODAY MAY BE THAT DAY….THAT HOUR
MICHAEL BECOMES WIND IN THE OPEN SPACES
the atrophy of conscience will be complete
WHAT FORCES ARE AT PLAY ?
HOLY PEOPLE SERVE GOD
POETS SERVE MUD
VIGOROUS TUMORS THAT MAKE UPSURGING SOUNDS
TUMORS WITH MORE MASS THAN YOKO
TUMORS STARTING WITH EACH LETTER OF THE ALPHABET
HOW MANY MULTIPLEMICHAELS ?
WHEN I WAS YOUNGER THEY WOULD CUT THEM OFF
AND SELL THEM TO THE RUSSIANS
THEY COULD EXTRACT SOME KIND OF RELIGIOUS OIL
THE VULGARITY OF BEING A PLAGUE PROFITEER
GREEN PLAID GOLF CLOTHES ARE STILL EVOCATIVE
GOLF EXISTS OUTSIDE THE WORLD OF ORDINARY HUMAN EXPERIENCE
GOLF WAS MY HEROIN IN THE GREAT DRIVE TO ESCAPE
I WAS FIRST IN LINE THE DAY YOU COULD PURCHASE BALLS
RATHER THAN MAKE THEM AT HOME
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plaid golf trousers hide shameful secrets at the 19th hole
a metaphor for the end of time
the final day on an empty calendar
the clubhouse (work makes you free surf and turf) an unseen ring of an unnamed hell
HOLE IN ONE she demands ONE IN THE HOLE she laughs
groundkeepers discover tumours in the bunkers buried under
infestation of the land
priest piss holy water sacred wine let the cut bleed
the X-rays and the ghost hands of Bill Murray
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DOGS LICK AT THE WORDS AND NOW THEY SPEAK WITH MY VOICE
INNUMBERABLE SCREAMS AROSE…PAIN DOWN BELOW
THE BABY JOHNNY WITH HIS HEAD OUT
LIFE THROUGH A CANAL
PRIMAL VITALITY
INESCAPABLE
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talk around town…how much to salt the meat
famine-ridden small town in Kentucky
boredom…dangerous boredom…tight allegiance to boredom
everything centers around the inconveniences of the flesh
old folks swear that the spirit will outlast the flesh
young people toke the bud and throw stones at the Christians
the local school system teaches alienation, darkness, disorder
most kids do average……chirping class is a favorite
notions without reality
pagan poetry
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LIFE IS JUST A LINK BETWEEN POINTS
THE CAIN AND ABEL TOWN IN KENTUCKY
HAS ALL THE POOR PEOPLE PAINTING
FALL COLORS ON THE TREES
—IT’S REAL EMPLOYMENT—
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PEOPLE THINK I AM FROM KENTUCKY
BUT I AM FROM SOUTHERN INDIANA
AND KENTUCKY IS THE ENEMY
THEY PLAY FAR BETTER BASKETBALL
AND HAVE MUCH FASTER RACE HORSES
I DO NOT KNOW ABOUT THE WOMEN FOLK
I DID NOT MATE WITH THE PRIMITIVES
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MILLION DOLLAR QUESTION:
WHAT LEADS MEN’S THOUGHTS
IN CERTAIN DIRECTIONS ?
ORIGINS AND CAUSES
TO REMAIN SILENT IN THE CRUEL WORLD
TO SURVIVE ONE MORE SKINNY MINUTE
AT NIGHT ONE HEARS THE WANDERING FEET
NEVER TO BEAR WITNESS TO WHAT ONE PERCEIVES
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the instructor was from Paris and his numbers didn’t add up
WRITING IMITATIVE POETRY IN THE NEW WORLD ORDER
AT NIGHT YOU CAN HEAR THE NATIVE DRUMS
THEY SEEM TO INFLUENCE THE TAO OF EVERY DAY LIFE
THE RHYTHMIC PATTERNS…THE UNGODLY HEAT
SUCCESSFUL INSECTS HAVE SUCKED US DRY
I SELDOM PEE AND CONSTANTLY COUGH UP MUD
A WORLD DOMINATED BY SORROW AND POVERTY
ILL-FORMED CHILDREN ARE KEPT HIDDEN
THOSE THAT LIVE CLOSEST TO THE UFO CRASH SITE
HAVE EXTRA FINGERS AND EMPTY EYE SOCKETS
HARDSHIPS ARE THE PATHS WE FOLLOW
I FEAR OUR EARTHLY PASSAGE
MAY BE TORTURED HESITATION
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The hateful world of people who are jealous of others shoes …a distasteful mentality that sticks in the throat like a sex hair of the owner, she made lists daily
when ever I tried to gain entrance she asked me to authenticate myself – a secret handshake
– a code
– smoke signals
– ground down bones
– the rituals she followed
you know you’ve been there
I talk to ghosts on the golf course just to kill the tedium
the line between points can be followed in the dark – just grab it right with two hands (well, that’s what I told her) – Yokos death grip strangles the thing she fears the most
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People know in from the centre – they think I sound different –
they do bad imitations of my accent – the world is full of poor actors – imitators – facsimiles of photocopies of photocopies of photocopies of facsimiles – the mould reassembled again and again –
they ask if Ive seen rats underground – if I’ve touched the queen they ask me do i know Steve? –
we are on different astral plains and the entrance is through the portal
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NIGHTWALKERS OFTEN TUNE THEIR LIPS
ONE BIG WET KISS UP THERE
ALL KINDS OF EDUCATIONAL WHITE DOWN THE LEGS
ALCHEMY MEDICINE THE CLASSICS THE OLD SCIENCES
CONTEMPORARY BLUE NOSE WIFEHOPPERS
LOSSES CROSSES DIVINE COLLARS
THE MONTHLY VEXATIONS
EXISTENTIALISTS
JISM IN JISM OUT
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JISM IN JISM OUT
A SLOW-ACTING POISON
JUST ASK A SIMPLE VOYEUR
SOMEONE WHO LIKES TO WATCH
THE PREMIUM LIQUID SLIDE DOWN
AT $200 YOU CAN WATCH SIX SHOTS
OBSERVER STATUS MEANS NO TOUCH
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WE PRINT TERRIBLE THINGS ABOUT YOKO
BUT SHE IS THE WIZARD IN OUR WIZARD OF OZ
NO MATTER HOW HARSH HER LIGHT…SHE IS OUR SOURCE
IT IS HER THAT I WANT KNIFING THROUGH MY VENETIAN BLINDS
I KNOW THAT SHE MANIPULATES ME AND SHE MANIPULATES YOU
HELL MAN….SHE MANIPULATES EVERYONE !!!
I LOVE THE DEPTH OF HER SENSITIVITY…HER NATURAL FEEL
I AM CONSTANTLY AMAZED AT HOW SHE FILLS IN MY SHADOWS
I LOVE LITTLE YOKO—HER AGE OR WEIGHT MEANS NOTHING
THE MITES ARE A TAD BIT MUCH BUT SHE DOES BUY ME CIGARETTES
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LABORATORY RATS ON WORDPRESS
PRESCRIBED BEHAVIOR–INNER VOICES
CONFINEMENT INSIDE SKIN
CONSTANTLY BEING EXERCISED AND TESTED
MARVELOUS JOHNNY BOY
JUST SCREAMING MARVELOUS
PRESS LIKE…CAREFUL, COMMENTS CAN CAUSE EXILE
SPROCKETED–SYCHRONIZED–OH MY HEAVENS
……………………CHURCH ELDERS……………………….
RUN BEFORE THEY GET TO WONDERFUL DEEDS
DOMESTIC PIETY….PUBLIC SERVICE
ANXIETY ABOUT EVERYTHING
PULPIT CARPET BURN
IT WAS FOR THE LORD
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SO YOU REALLY ARE A DETECTIVE
THE TENSIONS AND CONFLICTS OF SELFHOOD
ALWAYS A LONGING TO RELEASE FROM REALITY
IMMORTALITY IN A DISNEY DESIGNED HEAVEN
A TIM BURTON MASTERPIECE
TOO MUCH LOVE LORD
I WANT TO HEAR MYSELF SAY THAT OVER AND OVER
TOO MUCH LOVE LORD
BYE-BYE EARTHLY PLEASURES
DADDY IS GOING OUT OF TOWN
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when I see the Bible in the motel room
I think it must be there for a reason
does it have something to do with psychology ?
does it anger evil ?
is it a direct line to God ?
disclaimers and apologies
afraid of corrections sent by God
pick the Bible up and feel God in your heart
will God treat you like a man or a woman…….like an adult or a child ?
does God ever go to the bathroom in the woods ?
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external stimuli piques the interest of those isolated in solitude
the metaphor of the mattress – stained jism catapulted from touches of friction –
jujitsu jism
MultipleMs fascination with God and the crutch
gods crutch
the meridian the centre
the meat giveth equilibrium
balancing acts
MM the shepherd herding in the righteous paragraph by paragraph
he is the right hand man tying to find the Higgs Bosom to disprove his existence
it will be a relief not to have the pressure
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when architects build hotels
do they take into consideration
the weight of bibles?
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the hotel rooms remain unclean maids sit on unmade beds reading the Bible in search of spiritual enlightenment
it never arrives
ever (maths is the only truth)
they get up and clean the toilets
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A SEEMINGLY ABSENT GOD OFFERS MORE NOURISHMENT
THAN A LIVE MOMMA WITH THE MILK FLOWING
ARE YOU COAXING GOD ?
you cannot petition the lord
YOU CAN TAKE PHOTOGRAPHS OF FOOTPRINTS
SCAT PILES…TERRITORIAL MARKS…MORE DUNG
HOW THIN THE LINE THAT SEPARATES US
FROM OTHER ANIMALS
YOU AND I ARE RAG DOLLS
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WHAT IS THE ULTIMATE REORIENTATION OF DESIRE ?
we could dig Freud up and ask him
HUMAN DEVELOPMENT: DISPLACED…RELOCATED…RECHANNELED
EVERYTHING IS THE EMPTINESS WITHIN US
WE MUST CONNECT WITH HIM WHOM ALL FULLNESS DWELLS
ONLY IN HIS TIGHT GRIP, I WAVE AT THE WORLD
THE NARRATIVES TRY TO SHAKE MY HAND
BUT I REFUSE…I MUST NOT BE PULLED AWAY
PULLED AWAY LIKE AN INFANT FROM ITS MOTHER
PULLED AWAY BY EARTHLY WOLVES
PULLED AWAY TO BE RIPPED TO PIECES
RECYCLING PROTEIN MUST COME TO A HALT
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RAVENOUS DESIRES GO TO SLEEP
LIKE A BABY POLAR BEAR
QUESTIONS ITS MOTHER’S
HUNTING SKILLS
SELF-CENSORSHIP IN WHITE
PASSIVE READING ON WORDPRESS
SELF-STYLED SCRIBBLINGS GALORE
WORDS CONSTANTLY ASSAULT THE READER
MOST PEOPLE HAVE TRIED TO CORRECT
THE CATHOLICS OF POETRY
THE CREAMCHEESE OF CHRISTIANS
CONTAMINATED BLOOD
PRESSED ON PAPER
AS IF LIGHTWEIGHT SEX
WORDS WRITTEN BY STAIN
THE BLOOD CONNECTION
IS PARALYZING !!!
LOVE AND THE WAR OF LOVE
OPTICAL ENGINES OF ILLUSION
MY MAZED MIND GOES STRAIGHT
YOKO NEITHER HUMBLE OR MODEST
OUR LOVE MAY BE ERROR
WE EACH ACT OUR ROLE
I AM NOT MULTIPLEMICHAEL
YOU ARE NOT YOKO ONO
WE ARE RUBBISH ON THE PATH OF THE LORD
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the ambivalence of this everything
oh, well Christ has his nuns –
all of them – chained to his words
EAT HIS WORDS
the sign posts have been moved – obscured by overhanging branches of history
time
theory
I’m relocating through the portal
the portal called Janus
transitional
the change from heathen to convert to heathen and back again the hermaphrodite hand over all of this –
bibles replaced by hash tags
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THE NATIVES DO NOT UNDERSTAND IT
NAKED AND SWALLOWED UP WITH APPETITE
THEY CANNOT OBEY IT
SMALLER APPETITES ARE CONSUMED BY LARGER APPETITES
THE ONLY DIFFERENCE BETWEEN CHRISTIANS AND CANNIBALS
THE CANNIBALS ARE NOT COWARDS…FOOD BEFORE THOUGHT
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RECALLING A DREAM
Yoko hunting the young on the Savannah running on all fours
Julian hides his face in embarrassment
Sean tries to justify her actions
The Beatle king was bigger than god and he dressed better (now they are just dead)
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SHE SAID THAT SHE WANTED TO SPEAK MY LANGUAGE
INDIVIDUALISTIC SELF-EXPRESSION ?
EXORCISTIC EXPRESSION ?
OBJECTIVE?
SUBJECTIVE ?
ARTISTIC ?
DETACHED REALISM ?
NATURAL, UNNATURAL, THEATRICAL, SATIRIC,
POSSIBLY ALTERNATING ?
WHEN SOMEONE IS QUARRELING WITH THEMSELF
WHAT HOPE HAVE YOU ?
NEITHER NEAR NOR FAR
THERE IS NO HIGHER ARTISTIC PURPOSE
THAN TO THROW WATER ON FEAR
AS IF IT WERE A FIRE
……………………………….
THE MORALIST DICTATES
THE REALIST REWORKS
THE POET DIGS NEW HOLES
TO BURY HIS LIFELESS WORDS
WORDPRESS IS A GRAND BURIAL GROUND
ALMOST EVERYTHING STAYS OVERNIGHT
ADMISSION TAKES SMALL EFFORT
CAN BANAL PEOPLE BE STEREOTYPED ?
MEDIOCRITY AND VULGARITY
THE TWIN FORCES OF DARKNESS
OFTEN PARKED AT THE VALET BOOTH
NOT OUT THERE IN THE LOT
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ONE TUMOR CAUSED PUFFY CHAOS
IT WORE SUNDAY FLESH EVERY DAY
AS IF IT WERE GOING TO CHURCH
AS IF IT WERE GOING TO BE ON IMMEDIATE DISPLAY
AN AWAKENED ORGIASTIC GROWTH OF CELLS
A RAT BASTARD THING THAT WORSHIPPED SUFFERING
EVERYONE AT THE HOSPITAL LOVED IT
IT WAS THEIR LITTLE BABY…THEIR BAG OF PUS
THEY TRIED EVERYTHING TO SEDUCE IT
BIBLE CREAM, DEATH RAYS, TOXIC FILTH
AND THEN ONE DAY……….THE BIG KNIFE
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THE DOCTOR SAW DIRT UNDER HER NAILS
HER POODLE WAS MANICURED………WHY WASN’T SHE ?
HE SMELLED EXPENSIVE PERFUME
YET HE COULD SEE THAT SHE WAS SOILED
YESTERDAY AND POSSIBLY TWO DAYS BEFORE THAT
HE WOULD SPEAK TO JOHN ABOUT THIS
YOKO WAS A DIRTY BIRD
SHE WAS LIKE HITLER’S DIARY ON LEGS
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something tells me you like Hercules as much as you like push pins
MAPPING OUT HIS BODY WITH STRING AND HELLO KITTY PUSH PINS
HIS INFERNAL COD-PIECE APPARATUS
MISTER HAPPY WITH A CAPE AND BEARD
THE WORST SWEAT IN THE WORLD
LIKE AN UNHAPPY GOAT’S BEHIND
BUT MOST IMPORTANT OF ALL
WILL VIEWERS TURN AWAY
OR BE FROZEN IN AMAZEMENT
HE IS A FAMOUS STRONG-MAN
HIS NAKED PHYSICAL EXPRESSION
SHOULD BE OUTSTANDING
WE’RE TALKING “TREE TRUNK”
SOMEONE SAID THAT JUST THE SIGHT
COULD TURN POETRY INTO PROSE
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NEVER TOO LATE TO RECIRCULATE
—–DOUBLED-MULTIPLIED CHARACTERS—-
MISERIES RATHER THAN DOLLARS
IS THAT FORMALDEHYDE I SMELL ?
THE ORIGINAL ISN’T UPSIDE-DOWN
WHY IS THE COPY UPSIDE-DOWN ?
THE HAIR PIECE HAS GROWN SHABBIER WITH AGE
GRAY FROM THE ABSORPTION OF MISERY
MARRED BY THE ABSORPTION OF UNSPEAKABLE WORDS
EVEN HEAVEN IS ROOTED IN FILTH
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GETTING AND NOT GETTING WHAT ONE WANTS
AS A KID AT CHRISTMAS
THE RED FLASHLIGHT OF GUILT WAS POINTED AT YOUR TENSION
GETTING AND NOT GETTING WHAT ONE WANTS
WILD CRAZY ROMANCE
AND THEN YOU WERE STANDING THERE IN A CROWN OF THORNS
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SHE WAS QUOTED AS SAYING, “LIFE IS RECURRENCE”
YOKO WAS PROUD OF HER REPETITION COMPULSION
SHE WAS SO LIGHT THAT YOU COULD LIFT HER
AND LOOK UNDER HER LIKE A RUG
IMPRISONED IN ADOLESCENCE FOR 70 YEARS
SHE LOVED TO SHOW PEOPLE PHOTOGRAPHS OF HER MONEY
800 MILLION DOLLARS AND SHE EATS FOOD
FROM A DOLLAR STORE IN NEW JERSEY
SHE PAYS THE DOORMAN $30 TO SHOP FOR HER
HE SHOPLIFTS AND POCKETS SOME OF THE MONEY
ONE TRIP HE WAS $1.82 OFF AND YOKO ALMOST EXPLODED
MY GOD, WAS HE A COMMON THIEF ?
HE CALMED HER DOWN WITH 2 BUCKS
KEEP THE CHANGE WAS WELCOME WORDS TO HER EARS
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KEEP THE CHANGE WAS WELCOME WORDS TO HER EARS
YOKO IN HER IMPENETRABLE WORLD
YOU MIGHT AS WELL BE A BEGGAR BEFORE HER DOOR
———————————————————————————–
TREACHERIES AND BETRAYALS SLEEP OUTSIDE ON THE SIDEWALK
IF YOU ASK JULIAN HE CAN GIVE YOU A FREE COOKIE COUPON
JULIAN THE PRODIGY OF PRODIGIES
SON OF THE KING
HE’S THE GUY DOING FOOLISH AND RECKLESS THINGS
TO THAT SEAN DOLL
DON’T WORRY HE HAS BEEN CURED
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QUESTION OF THE WEEK:
—————————————-WHO WAS THE FIRST PERSON TO THINK UP HELL ?
COUNTERFEIT FINGERNAILS
EROTIC OBSESSIONS
SAVAGERY COMPLETE WITH CANNIBALISM
a string tied to the leg of the bird…..look how he flies
WHO CAN SHAVE THE RUBBLE OF TWO THOUSAND YEARS ?
JUVENILE DELINQUENCY IN THE UNDERPANTS
THREE YEARS IN PRISON FOR LOOKING
———–PRISON, THE THEATRE OF CRUELTY
AN OUTLET FOR THE CAVEMAN INSTINCTS
THE DREAM WORLD WILL BECOME REAL FOR SPECTATORS
…………….PEOPLE KILL BECAUSE THEY WANT TO BE CLOSE TO DEATH…….
THE PURE JOY OF DUPLICATING THAT FEELING
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ENOUGH ARRIVAL AND DEPARTURE
TAKE THE DAMN STRING OFF
THE LEG OF THE BIRD
PERMIT IT TO ESCAPE
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INTIMATE SCENES FROM THE LIVES OF PUPPETS
PEOPLE PAY TO WATCH LOVING COUPLES
TRY TO PLACE THE SQUARE CUBE
IN THE ROUND HOLE
WANNA SLAP THE FACE OF UTILITARIAN LANGUAGE ?
THE GUY WHO SAID THAT WORDS ARE GERMS
CARRYING TERRIBLE DISEASES
WAS SO CORRECT !!!
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RUBBISH ON THE PATH OF THE LORD
THE CIRCUS THE MUSIC HALL TRAPPED-BEAST OUTLETS
DISTILLING THE SAVAGERY OF EARLY MAN
THE CHAOS OF BLOOD BEFORE IT WAS HUMAN
I HAVE SMOKED WITH THE BEST
AVANT-GARDE ITALIAN CIGARETTES
MIXED WITH MYTHS AND SEXUALITY
ANTISOCIAL AND ANTIPSYCHOLOGICAL
EVEN A LITTLE DELIRIOUS MIDDLE EAST DUST
BRUSHED OFF BY JESUS ON THE WAY TO THE CROSS
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NOT CONTRADICTORY BUT COINCIDING WITH IT
UNSEEN BEAUTY IN THE SLIGHTLY BENT FORWARD BUTTOCKS
OVERWHELM…UNDERMINE…THE DANGER THERE
“TAKING UPON HIMSELF THE SINS OF FELLOW MAN”
INFATUATED WITH THE CASTLE NEAR EXCREMENTAL FALLS
TO REJECT A WORLD THAT REJECTED
NO BOUNDARY WILL BE SAFE
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THE FACE OF THE ACTOR
PURPOSE AND FORM
MEANINGLESS EXISTENCE OUTSIDE NUMBERS
COMEDY OF ERRORS OUTSIDE THE WALLS OF MATH
SHAME IS INCREASED BY BRIGHT LIGHT
GUILT ETCHES THE FACE
TRY NOT TO LOOK AT YOURSELF
ANXIOUS TO PROTECT DISGUISE
PAINT THE MIRROR BLACK
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puritans are trying to clean up the blood
kill kill kill kill kill kill
people kill because they want to be close to death
if death doesn’t take us
we weep because of our inauthenticity of performance
PURITANS ARE ON TELEVISION TRYING TO CLEAN UP THE BLOOD
cold eyes are watching……learning
critics are ruthless
he didn’t have enough ammunition
he was a poor shot
he chose the wrong time
what was he thinking ?
I speak of the reflecting mirror
not only the inner eye but also the world eye
self-imposed roles
should there be a disguise ?
a mask ?
compelled to build up and display a new self
conflicts between appearance and reality
red mouth like the Joker
to penetrate to a deeper level of intellect
what will it take to have our 15 minutes of fame ?
the ego expands and contracts
some idiot in the backroom of death
will pry the mask off
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THE SIGNIFICANCE OF PLASTIC IN ARTIFICIALITY
DON’T BOTHER WITH THE RED MOUTH OF THE JOKER
HIS DURATION IS DONE
PURITAN PILLS AND THRILLS KILL
ASK JOAN…SHE IS THE QUEEN OF PLASTICITY
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UNDER A BLINDING SPOTLIGHT
THE TRUTH COMES OUT
TERRIBLE DISCOMFORT
BUFFOONERY IN THE JOAN FAMILY TREE
PRIVATE AFFAIRS OPEN ON DISPLAY
MAN MEAT SAMPLES FROM THE TABLE OF JOAN
INTERROGATIONS
INVESTIGATIONS
AMBIGUOUS PENIS PRINTS
NOTHING COULD SATISFY THE CURIOSITY
POOR JOAN WAS QUOTED AS SAYING
“I AM WHOM YOU BELIEVE ME TO BE”
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how many death certificates does it take ?
INTERROGATIONS AND INVESTIGATIONS
MAINTAIN YOUR MASK
YOU MAY BE LOOKING OUT YOUR OLD EYES
BUT YOU ARE NEW… COMPLETELY DIFFERENT
REMEMBER NOTHING IS SAID
EVERYTHING IS PORTENDED
SUCH A COMPLEX WEB
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FAME CANNOT OVERCOME DEATH
TALK OF DEATH IN BAD TASTE
YOU MAY BE UPSET WITH YOUR DEATH
ACCOMPANIED BY ANGER WITH GOD
YOUR MURDER CUT YOU OFF
WITHOUT GLORY
YOUR RAINBOW
ALL BLACK
AND BLUE
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A TRUE CRIME OF MISFORTUNE
HAPPY SUICIDE HAPPY SUICIDE
NO MORE PLAYACTING
THINGS WILL BE EVEN MORE FALSER
THE RULES FIXED AND FIXED
MARVELOUS USE OF LUBE
GENITAL EXORCISMS
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bucolic brown Beatles burrow beneath Yoko beastly bastard beetles burrow within insidious little things
news of massacres
of spent existence
of waste
(she has no waist
all 3stone of her)
anaemic skin weak sun half moon crescent joker grin
she ordered the meat ranked its importance look at the insides
her flawed philosophy
she is a figure of speak
figuratively she is
not using words won’t replace silence they are two different things
Joan is not bio-degradable
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pigs blood advertising hoardings the death count rises unclaimed lottery tickets bus wheel screech jet plan daffodils bury the young bury the old life in life out she told me she had lost her keys to heaven – all day staring at a painting till she swore it moved multiple voices the constant echo the static howl the vinyl scratch spiral stair balding at the crown in the morrow it’s you but not your reflection reflecting puddles tomorrow maybe but not yesterday
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……………..when there is a lack of food you starve the infant (for the good of the group)
I was having all these dreams involving Emily
—out of the brothel and straight to Emily….right ?
anyway, things were going really good
until the night I made my big move
Emily said, “let’s have ghost like nonphysical sex”
I guess that was when she just became a number in the phonebook
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YOKO KNEW ONLY TOO WELL THAT ALL WE EVER ACHIEVE
IS A REFLECTION OF WHAT WAS BEFORE
TO REALLY CHANGE ONE NEEDS MORE CONTROL OF UTILITY
ONE MUST HAVE A STRONG-ARM FACULTY FOR REASON
NO PUSSY-FOOTING OR BABY STEPPING
NO CIRCLING BACK
ONE HAND HOLDING THE GUN
THE OTHER HAND PUMPING BELOW
YES, SOLDIERS OF TODAY MASTURBATE AS THEY KILL
SEMEN IS THE COLD-BLOODED PISS OF YESTERDAY
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WORDPRESS LACKS:
emblems, costumes, gestures, elegance, charm, heroes, banners, anger, frenzy, excitement
legendary figures, brothel humor, blasphemy, virginified tarts, hello kitty anything
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in my dream I saw a rough beast slouching towards Bethlehem
it was the same one Yeats saw
our welcome sign as you come into town
LOVE HAS BEEN REPLACED WITH SEX AND VIOLENCE
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when you turn out the lights for bed
does the audience draw closer
or go home ?
———–climaxes and mutilation
Emily whispered in my ear as we were having ghost like nonphysical sex
“Without God you have nothing”
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RUBBISH ON THE FLOOR OF THE NARCOTICS FACTORY
POETS TRY TO STAY AWAKE…TRY TO CHEAT SLEEP
SPIRITUAL BANKRUPTCY DRILLS INSIDE THE SKULL
ECONOMIC BANKRUPTCY OUTSIDE THE DOOR
PRAY FOR A CLEAN AND SATISFACTORY END
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narcotics rushes temper sleep there is a need for needles and pins
pills and meat on the floor
hanging from bones
broken machines can’t cry for help they have never seen the sun light
she hid her words in exile
removed the building blocks
there will be an end
there always is
and satisfaction is a thousand pins shiny and new
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ROUGH-AND-TUMBLE TIMES IN CHILDHOOD MEMORIES
HELPLESS TO DADDY’S AGGRESSIONS
BEHIND CLOSED DOOR HE TOUCHED MAGAZINE BREASTS
SWEAT MADE THE TINY CRACKS BURN
CONTACT BETWEEN HUMAN BEINGS
SADISM…MASOCHISM….YOU PICK
EITHER WAY DAD IS THE BIG BOY
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EMILY ONCE WROTE A POEM ABOUT ANGLO-SAXON SPERM
EACH CONTESTANT GOT SMACKING NOISES
HER INTEREST WAS ON THE FINISH
SHE SAID, “IT’S NOT A PHYSICAL THING”
SAILORS HAD HOMOEROTIC THOUGHTS
THERE WERE A BUNDLE OF GERMANIC SAILORS IN TOWN
THEIR LONG THICK UNCUT DONGS WERE ALMOST IDENTICAL
EMILY SEEMED MORE FASCINATED BY THE JISM THAN THE KNOB
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EMILY WAS VERY HUSH-HUSH ABOUT THE GRATUITOUS CRUELTY OF MANKIND
SHE DID MENTION ONCE
THAT SHE WAS BORN BETWEEN THE YELLOW AND THE BROWN
“INTER FAECES ET URINAS”
SOMETIMES WORDS ARE NO MORE THAN SWARMING FLIES
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I’ve never read the bible
I just use it to swot bugs &
balance tables
all things have a purpose but not necessarily the one it was made for
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WHISTLING UP YOUR STICK AGAIN
THE SPIRITUAL DISLOCATION OF JOHNNY BOY
SCIENTIFIC ALL THE WAY
RENOUNCE MAGIC AND MIRACLES
FOR THE MEASURING STICK
WHY TONGUE DELUSIONS
WHEN NUMBERS ARE SO READILY AVAILABLE ?
THIS WORLD OF ANGRY APES SHALL SOON PERISH
EACH DAY WILL BE A PLEASANT COMEDY
NO MORE REALISTS OR GENEVA NEGOTIATIONS
A COMPLETE HALT TO ANYTHING AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL
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VERY POETIC:
to rub your gums like an autumn landscape
if I were to rub her gums
it would be a wild romp
every tendency to mentalize
sexual intercourse on the moon
making babies looking out
the window of a spacecraft
the dirt of life
even there
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JESUS ONCE SAID TO ME,
“MY ENEMIES ARE OFTEN OVERINTELLECTUALIZED”
HERE IN FLORIDA, THE COLDEST OF THE COLD MONSTERS
ARE ANGRY APES
I HAVE A ROOM IN SATAN’S PALACE
IT IS IN THE DUALISTIC NATURE WING
I LIKE SITTING IN AN OPEN WINDOW
AT NIGHT
SOAKING IN THE WORLD
OF THE SLICK BLACK BULLS
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all thing autobiographical will be littered with fake recollections of other people life’s – punchlines to late night jokes –
the only numbers in my book will be at the bottom of the page –
under interrogation the beam of Nazi lamps no one will admit the truth – no one knows the truth
all the leads and threads are one big tangled noose knotted
multiplemicheal at a window in Florida counting the black bulls
watching the stampede unable to hold back the deluge
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the animals entered the portal two by two but they exited as one unified mass of hoofs, beaks, feathers, spleens, horns, fangs
(. all except the black bulls who exited blue under the moon light. )
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both of your sisters were autobiographical
they wrote poetry about filth and vulgarity
Russian mafia ties
in a stupor
you start adding numbers
look at Johnny Boy go
your book is bottom heavy
that’s where you put all the numbers
the violent healthcare struggle in America
has mailed you countless numbers
painstakingly, you double glue them
to the rubbery surface of MEAT
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YOUR SISTERS WERE DRINKING EXPENSIVE COGNAC
THEY LIVED BY THE LAWS OF STEREOTYPED HYPE
“OUR MOTIVES ARE COMPLETELY INNOCENT”
WHEN I LOOKED I SAW PRETENTIOUSNESS AND VULGARITY
I SAW DIRTY SEWER RATS….WEEDS GONE TO SEED
PEASANTS WHO HAD FORGOTTEN THEIR PLACE
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SHE RUBBED HER GUMS LIKE AN AUTUMN LANDSCAPE
TRACTION FOR THE TEETH…BUNGLED ON COGNAC
A MORTGAGE ON JOHNNY BOY
DO SISTERS HAVE HEREDITARY RIGHTS ?
IN REAL LIFE THE UNUSUAL RARELY HAPPENS
JOHNNY BOY WAS EXPOSED TO EXPLICIT MATH PROBLEMS
ON THE SAME DAY HUSTLER MAGAZINE SHOWED CLOSE-UPS
OF HELLO KITTY PUSH-PINS HOLDING LARGE LABIA OPEN
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ONE UNIFIED MASS EVOKES STRAINS OF PATHOS
JOHNNY BOY AND HIS ANXIOUS QUESTIONING OF LIFE
HIS SISTERS READY TO PICK THE LAST OF HIS BONES
THE ACADEMIC CAREER LIKE A FLAT TIRE
the math of life:::::::forgotten medication reduces everything to zero
PERPETUALLY BORED
SHREDS OF GENITAL SKIN
THINGS DOWN THERE ARE DRYING UP AND FALLING OFF
THE NUT SAC OF NOAH ON THE SHOWER FLOOR
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IN COMPARISON WITH THE BRUTE BEASTS
WHO CIRCLE UNDER MY WINDOW
I AM A NAKED MONKEY
NATURAL, UNTAUGHT, UNMORAL
BLUE IN THE MOONLIGHT
I WORSHIP THE SIMPLEST ANIMAL INSTINCTS
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I WORSHIP THE SIMPLEST ANIMAL INSTINCTS
I WORSHIP THE SIMPLEST ANIMAL INSTINCTS
I WORSHIP THE SIMPLEST ANIMAL INSTINCTS
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Noah’s nut sac stretched recycled &
fashioned as a Meat carrier – a number one best seller and now lonely poor men stare down at there’s and think
think about the removal of their bag
the potential profit
there is profit in meat
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the simple instincts that separate us
the instincts of the herd
the simple animals
a triangle
the hierarchy of needs
the basest instincts the gut feelings
the simple instincts of meat machines
to act
or
to not
the naked instincts of the basest beasts
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NOAH’S NUT SAC OR LACK OF
STRANGELY HAD LITTLE TO DO WITH SEX
A MEAT SOCK TO BE WRITTEN ABOUT
SUBJECT FOR A STREETSINGER’S BALLAD
NOAH WAS ALWAYS PROUD OF HIS ABILITY TO CONTROL HIS URINE
IN SCHOOL HE WAS THE CHAMP OF THE GOLDEN STREAM
AT THE ZOO HE WOULD HAVE BEEN THE CHIMP OF THE GOLDEN STREAM
FELLOW CONTESTANTS WOULD CLENCH THEIR FISTS CURSING AT THE HEAVENS
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DEATH AS THE NATURAL CONCLUSION OF LIFE
CASTRATING ONESELF TO JOIN RANK
THE COMPLACENCY OF WORDPRESS
INDULGENCE IN QUICKSAND POETRY
TO ESCAPE THE PULLS OF THE LETTERS
CAUSE-AND-EFFECT
THE FAMILIAR BECOMES THE STRANGE
TIMELY OPPOSITE MEANINGS
MICHAEL, A DEVOUT PURITAN ?
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CHAFING AGAIN JOHNNY BOY ?
OH, I KNOW ONLY TOO WELL
IT WAS THE BUDS OF ANTICIPATION
OR ANSWERING THE SAME QUESTION TWICE
YOUR PSEUDONYM IS SHOWING
—–WHY THE MOTIONLESS LIVING VOICE—-
PETRIFIED ALMOST A STATUE
HAVE A HEALTHY POOP AND JOIN THE DRAMA
EXPOSE YOUR REFLECTIVE INTELLIGENCE
“BY GOD, I AM JOHNNY BOY AND I AM A HISTORICAL POET”
( my lifescapes have been soaked in a particular sense of delirium often difficult to reproduce )
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I KNOW THAT YOU WERE ONCE PART OF A DOO WOP VOCAL GROUP
THAT YOU HAD A STRONG NOSTALGIC AROMA
A LEATHER JACKET THAT YOU STOLE
A KNIFE, A CHAIN, AND YOU THOUGHT ABOUT RAZOR BLADES IN YOUR SHOES
BUT THAT WAS A LITTLE BIT TOO JUVENILE DELINQUENT
FOR THE JOHNNY BOY HOUSEHOLD
YOUR MOM WORKED HARD ON THE LINOLEUM FLOOR
47 PERCUSSIONISTS PLAYED NON-STOP AS SHE WAXED IT
ONE GUY PLAYED A DESICCATED SCROTUM STRETCHED OVER A COFFEE CAN
THAT GUY MAY HAVE BEEN YOUR FATHER (an intense-looking fellow)
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( a musical aside )
the do-wop band was a flop – like my quiff under hot light – grease tears flowing from sweaty forehead – – non one cared for the sound (it was to black for an all white town) –
And in a town of vegetarians a leather jacket would never go down well – they smelt the death and fear and tried to free the jacket
– while on stage they threw vegetables at me and the sax man –
cabbage blocked the trumpet sound
the knife fights broke up the hypnotic rhythm – they were merely outlets –
silver knife shards flash in do-wop light – bike chain cracks sounding like a 1000 finger clicks
my dad was the ginger baker of the scrotal coffee can boogie – we don’t talk any more but my mother
my mother is still dancing
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“THE SOWER SOWETH THE WORD” -MARK 4:14
traveling salesmen left a trail of free Bibles
I asked Yoko what they sold
she said that it was a gel
for the traction of the teeth
seems that seniors were finding
the surface of meat
to be too rubbery
I’ve seen people up north
rub the gel on their car tires
I’ve seen hooker customers
rub the gel on their condoms
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when you turn out the lights for bed
you must remember that you are
both a faithful servant
and a sanctified poet
your indebtedness
can never be repaid
show thy skill
praise the glory of God
go for the nonphysical sex
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——————————-COMMENT #400———————————————-
A REHEARSAL IN A HUMAN BASED THEATRE
IMPROVISED WET AND DRY INTERCOURSE
ACTORS WITH ODD NUMBERED LIMBS
SPECTATORS WITH GIDEON BIBLES
ON THEIR BREATH
TORN BETWEEN MESSIANIC AND EXISTENTIAL
EARLIER PATTERNS OF SUFFERING
MOTHERS ANALYZED AND PROBED
THEIR CHILDREN FICTIONALIZED CHARACTERS
THE ACCURATE MIRROR GIVING FALSE REFLECTIONS
WE TOUCH SATAN WHEN WE TOUCH OURSELVES
POETS SPEAK OF THE BARRIERS
BETWEEN THE INNER AND THE OUTER
RELIGION MULTIPLIES ILLUSIONS
THE NAKED APE WITHOUT INSTINCT
UNABLE TO ESCAPE THE NARCOTIZED STUPOR
OF ELECTRONIC DEVICES
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sex without touching – a mind game for those with imagination – cleaner and less mess –
in the light or dark cavernous night – a faithful servant to thee self – a pilgrim sanctified on holy lands –
bed side cabinet
pills
ticking watch
loose coins tip the scales
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but remember where this started?
It was with her – the hidden armoury – the dead curtain – maths with no meanings – characters with meat faces – misplaced actors on factory stages – ying and yangs – in the shadow of a benevolence – if we tried to write all this down…
…tired hands of self pleasure false mirrors giving accurate reflections – the pyramid of the prism – the pins – the search for perfect words & whole numbers
Yoko squared in poetic terms
happy 400 she
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WHY SHOULD I LIVE BUT TO THY PRAISE ?
SUCH THANKSGIVING IS IMPORTANT
TO SELF-PLEASURED LIVING
GOOD LUBE AND A STRONG HAND
MAKE FOR GRATITUDE
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the heartbroken have filled the oceans with pee
a blend of the confessional and lemon tea
without correction she could live no more
grateful if not sore obedience to thy rod
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hand grip hard and fast
fat and bulbous
friction burn the milk curdles fast in the Florida heat – bath salt tea dyslexic librarian ruins the filling – H where J and K should be – she worships dog – a funny story I’ll tell you one day….sssssshhh in the library…
people are waiting to die
they are lonely and the words are comfort the words are the bread and the spine is the wine
pissing themselves with fear piss chaff legs salt in wounds vinegar in the cuts
answering lonely hearts ads as a hobby
they all want to feel something
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………………( HOLY SMOKES, GINGER BAKER ON THE SCROTAL COFFEE CAN )……….
SELF-STYLED INSATIABILITY
THE MORE JOAN PUT IN
THE MORE EMPTY SHE FELT
AN IMPOSSIBILITY EVER TO BE FILLED
LADY CROTCH CLOSET OF THE DAILY FACE
HER RAVENOUS DESIRING SOUL
LIKE A MOTHER WOLF STARVING
CAN CONSUME WITHOUT SLOWING
SHE SPOKE OF WEANED LOVERS
AFFECTION AS CURRENCY
WHAT DID SHE KNOW OF THE LORD ?
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THE NAKED APE ASKS GOD FOR MORE SUBSTANTIAL NOURISHMENT
HE STANDS ERECT AND SHOUTS, “I WANT THE WORLD AND I WANT IT NOW”
FROM HIS RECTUM DEFICIENCIES DROPPED
FREUD AND TOILET PAPER WERE YET TO ARRIVE
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an erect god quoting Jim Morrison is a weak god – the naked apes are apes even if they wore limited edition sneakers and haute couture beards – give them diapers to cover their mouths cause they are talking shit
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THERE WERE ONLY 8 JAZZ MUSICIANS
AND NOW THEY ARE DEAD
ALL 8 WERE SLEEPING IN A THORN HEDGE
ALL WAITING FOR A KISS TO LIFT THE CURSE
NOW THEY ARE JUST JUNK IN A BONEYARD
DON’T GO DIGGING IN THE RUMBLE
OUTREACHING AND INREACHING
THE MUSIC TO REMAIN BURIED
SPECTATOR BOY
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PEOPLE IN CERTAIN CRISES STRUGGLING
WITH TIGHT-LIPPED POETRY
WOMEN WITH PSYCHOPATHETIC GENITAL COMPRESSION
CAGED SEXUAL FLESH
POLAR BEAR UTTERANCES
ABRUPT ALTERNATIONS
MOVING BACKWARDS THROUGH
MOODS, PERCEPTIONS, CONCERNS
COMPROMISES BECOME SNAKE BITES
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EACH PAGE OF MY DIARY:
sore and sick from snake bite
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Johnny Boys diversion into snake help
Cures for snakebites:
suck out the venom,
piss on the wound
remove the effected area
build a time machine, travel back in time and kill the snake on the day of its birth,
find the anecdote
but prevention is better than cure so
don’t walk in the floor
wear metal armour AT ALL TIME
stay in continents where snakes are banned
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Eight jazz musicians
sixteen arms and sixteen legs, fifteen eyes (there’s always a story in there)
sound like the beginning of a maths problems –
if they all exhaled together they could blow over a full grown man – fell him like a tree – all that air in Dizzys cheeks – lungs like machines
all that junk in their arms – slow swagger – slurred phrases
their time will come again from the boneyard and back – the cycle –
it continues
zombie jazz men dead eyed blowing slow spastic sounds from rusting brass –
zombie jazz
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disorientated diary details depicts deep dark dirty delusions – derived, directly from snake fangs – serpent incisions – feverish feelings for which we know no cure – find witch doctor Yoko – her bag of potions infamous amongst certain circles – chase the devil away with powders –
I can see her ribs –
she needs meat
write that in your diary capture that with words
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WHEN THEY CUT THE HEAD OFF THE SNAKE
THE BLOOD WAS BRIGHT………..WITHOUT COLOR
EACH INCH OF SNAKE WAS AN INCH OF DIMENSION
DARKENING TO SOMETHING SPECIAL
BRIGHT BLOOD BECAME BRIGHT POETRY
NARRATIVE IMAGINATION JUST SHORT OF SILENCE
SELF-CONTAINED MATHEMATICS ROUNDED
RESHAPED CROTCH RESHAPED POTENTIALITY
FINGERS WANTING TO TOUCH HAMBURGER
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the snake sheds it skin and writhes naked until rebirth – the shedding –
if only humans could shed their skin and start afresh – rebirth – start the cycle from a different point
Jim Morrison tried – he rode the snake – it was seven miles long –
(but he died fat and bloated and is therefore not a good point of reference)
the skin is gathered under the cover of darkness – a darkness that makes black bulls shine blue – blood is smeared on faces as a disguise – the skin is reshape and made into sharp pointed
shoes for tomorrow’s rock stars –
snake skin bags are designed for poets to carry around extra words – the texture is softer than Noah’s sac
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EVERY TIME BEFORE A GIFT OPENING
COUNTLESS BIRTHDAYS AND HOLIDAYS
A SIMPLE PRAYER THAT INSIDE
WOULD BE THE DARKNESS
THAT MAKES BLACK BULLS SHINE BLUE
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THE POET COLLECTING WORDS
IN ORDER TO LOVE HIS LIFE
WITHOUT ANESTHESIA
“I AM ALIVE” or “I CAME ALIVE”
CONSTANTLY APOLOGIZING
HOURLY TURMOIL
INADEQUACY
POVERTY
NAGGING
PUBERTY POCKETS
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THE POET IS THE DIRECTOR
DRAGGING PAINFUL WORD COMBINATIONS
INTO THE WORDPRESS THEATRE
THE WORDS OFTEN DETEST ONE ANOTHER
AS IF MARRIED AND BOUND IN HATRED
TRAGI-COMIC ALTERNATIONS ARE A HIT
HINDSIGHT ON YOUTUBE
PURGATORY POOP
BATHED IN AN EERIE SCENT
INTENTION EXECUTION
AN INAUDIBLE SWALLOW
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DIE AND BECOME A STAR PERFORMER IN THE FUNERAL !!!
CAUTION: you may have to reenact the origin of your shame and torment
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(FROM JULY 20)
UNBUTTONING HER BLOUSE
PEELING HER POTATOES
IMPATIENTLY SMOKING
GIFTS TO THE READER
ONE WORD AT A TIME
——————————–
matters which cannot be shouted at the top of one’s voice
deeper probes in poetic incest
derelicts of memories
deed withdrawal
Kleenex clean
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THE DARKNESS THAT MAKES BLACK BULLS SHINE BLUE:
POETRY IS OFTEN JUST UNEARTHING THE SOURCE OF NEUROSIS
WE HAVE TWO EYES BECAUSE ONE IS INSTINCTUAL
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AGGRAVATED BY A GROWING APPREHENSIVENESS
ALTHOUGH YOU HAVE LOCKED YOURSELF IN THE BATHROOM
AND TURNED THE LIGHTS OUT
YOU CAN FEEL EYES WATCHING YOU
POSSIBLY PEOPLE ON THE SIDEWALK OUTSIDE
OR PEOPLE IN AUTOMOBILES DRIVING BY ON THE STREET
YOUR UNSTRUCTURED AUNT IN OHIO MAY BE PICKING UP VIBES
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200 DVDS OF BILLY GRAHAM’S RELIGIOUS CRUSADES
PEOPLE TURNED INTO CAGED ANIMALS SNARLING
HUMAN WEAKNESS AND VULNERABILITY IN DAYLIGHT
“HEY BILLY, WE’RE STUCK IN HELL
AND ALL THE ESCAPE ROUTES ARE CLOSED”
WITH THE PASSING OF EACH DAY
THE THOUGHT OF TOMORROW
IS THE MOST FRIGHTENING OF ALL
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the instinctual eye is lazy and half closed, my third eye I use in dreams. – & one day I will invent a machine that will capture my dreams so I can trap the images – in the morning I’ll study them – find out who was there – I’ll ask them what were they doing in my head – they will have no answers I’m sure – i’d tape their dreams to see if I’m there – I’d have no answers –
I never have
I ask Emily questions all the time but she never replies – lack of breath dead is a barrier to communication – a barrier I need to overcome –
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The bathroom was locked and the tap left running – the water rose and you floated closer to the light – ever shining – the cabinet on the wall contained pills and potions – blades – sharp – the shower head was a hundred eyes scanning snooping – you hated taking showers – remained dirty for days –
the only people watching you were under orders to do so – secret orders authorising wiretaps – clandestine operations smokescreen – on the street you noticed too many people positioned in vantage points – sentinels still like stunted lumps of dead wood – eyes everywhere
Eyes in the head if your aunt in Ohio – big saucers – antennas for bending light –
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THANKS FOR STAYING SILENT ABOUT MY PERSONAL GEOGRAPHY
MY THIN SKIN…..A HAUNTING PATCHWORK OF CONTEMPORARY POETRY
A COMPLETE VICTIM OF “OUTSIDE” FACTORS
YOU MADE ME SO HAPPY WHEN YOU WROTE OF THE DARKNESS
—-the darkness that makes black bulls shine blue—-
I LIVE MY FINAL DAYS IN CHILDHOOD
AND THAT IS MY FAVORITE MEMORY
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Your geography is yours – the footprints that trace journeys across
lead in seven directions – undiscovered geography hidden in forests where naked men eat plants that make them fly through their visions – woman with saggy breasts have never touched silk – rushing river – you can’t map the unknown – I had visions once but now I just have dreams
–
Dream last night: a car is possessed by the spirt of Abraham Lincoln and travels across America to fall in love with a car possessed by the spirit of a murdered prostitute. All ended in failure when Abs ghost car ran out of petrol –
it holds no significance but your geography is safe with me
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APOCALYPTIC EXPRESSION: DUST UNDER WORDPRESS
———————the embryonic stage———————————–
SHE WAS SOMEWHERE UNDER THE DEAD SKIN
DEEPLY SUBMERGED AND LINKED TO LAZY INSTINCTS
BEING DEAD EQUALS BEING UNSERVICEABLE
WHAT IF WE HAD GIVEN UP SO EASILY FOR YOKO OR JOAN ?
BY GOD, THINGS ARE MADE FOR USE AND SHE WAS STILL FUNCTIONAL
I KNOW FORCES BEYOND BARBARIC AND PRIMITIVE
I KNOW FINGERS WITH SPONTANEOUS LIFE
TRUST ME JOHNNY BOY
WE GOT US A LIVE ONE HERE !!!
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why would someone who lives north of London even know who Abe was ?
most people don’t know that he was associated with both the Dadaists
and the Surrealists of his time
he was a regular hillbilly Dali
they have either destroyed or hidden all of his artwork
Hitler was the same
you can find images of Hitler’s artwork but they are fake
Hitler did many murals of Abraham Lincoln
he never advocated perversity, sadism, or violence in his art
rumor has it that Hitler was captured by a group of Radical Jews
and circumcised to the point of no return
after that things went sour
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EMILY TELLS ME ALL THE QUESTIONS THAT YOU ASK HER
SHE KNOWS THE ANSWERS ARE OUTLAWED
I’VE ADVISED YOU MANY TIMES TO FORGET THE DIVISION TABLES
GIVE THE CURRIE HOUSE UP
I KNOW YOU THINK THERE IS A SECRET ROOM
FULL OF ATOMIC COMMAS
POSSIBLY A PICTURE OF MARIE’S PET
BARE NAKED AND WET
what can I say, Johnny Boy ?
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I know Abe
I saw him in a film – I liked his hat – black and tall – I knew of him during my time in London – his shadow loomed across foggy streets – his Dadaist steak has been written out of history –
Hitlers artwork was vapid and his use of colours poor – after the circumscion his work vastly improved – bolder brush strokes – he even painted a bright yellow sun –
if Abe had ever met him he would have stuck him down with one punch and burnt his offerings
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a live one wriggling in the net –
REEL HIM IN AHAB –
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the filming in the secret room had to stop – a lack of continuity -something had been removed there were different shadows now – the sums didn’t add up –
– she didn’t fear the dark just the absence of light –
the director needed to take her aside – reread some lines
– edits needed to take place
– she needed to rediscover her motivation
atomic commas radiated and burnt the film – pictures of wet pets were stolen and appeared on auction websites –
you were the highest bidder
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SHE WAS A HORSE STUMBLED
HAVING LOST ALL DISTANCE
FROM HER ROLE
WIFE—MOTHER
WOLF AT THE DOOR
I SPEAK HUNGER
YOU SPEAK REVENGE
SHE IS YOUR INVENTION
YOUR WOMAN
I KNOW YOU’VE BEEN TRYING TO MEASURE TIME
THE PUSH PINS…THE STRING
TALKING DOWN CLOCKS
EVERYTHING IS DETERMINED
AND I’VE SHOWN YOU PHOTOGRAPHS OF OUR PAST
THE SALT OF OUR ANIMAL ANCESTRY
THE HYBRIDIZATION
FOOTPRINTS ON THE LAETOLI PLAIN
STANDING IN LINE WITH THE HYENAS
AND VULTURES
ABE AND I WAVE TO YOU
FROM OUR GOLDEN AUTOMOBILE
WE RETURN TO THE LEGENDARY SOIL
WEIRD CLARITY IN LUCID MADNESS
JOHNNY BOY
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CHEATED OUT OF YOUTH
PANTS WITH NO ZIPPER
STRONG REVOLT AGAINST EXISTENCE
THE SUPPER TABLE GUARDED BY FATHER
BUFFOONS…BUFFOONS YOU TWO
HE WAS A LEARNED CRANK
WORDS WITH A STRONG ARM
NO ROMANTIC MOVIE MATERIAL
LIFE SUCKED LIKE DIRTY TAP WATER
LIKE CHEESE FROM THE VERY BACK OF SANITY
LIKE YOUR MOTHER WITH HER HIGHLY TRAINED EYES
MEDDLING IN POCKETS FOR TOBACCO
MEDDLING WITH UNDERWEAR AND BED LINENS
FOR PEARL DROPS OR BROWN RUNNERS
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LIFE IS ALWAYS PLAYING TRICKS ON THOSE FOLKS
PEOPLE FROM THE PAST ARE MOVING, SPEAKING FIGURES
TELEVISION GHOSTS HAUNTING YOUR PUMPING FIST
PAPER TOWEL PICK UP OF INVOLUNTARY VICTIMS
THE WORK OF UNTOLD MIRACLES
ENTIRE CITIES IN LIQUID
BABY GIRLS AND BABY BOYS
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I FEAR OUR EARTHLY PASSAGE
MAY BE TORTURED HESITATION
A DOOR NEVER TO BE OPENED
YOU WILL NEVER BE YOU
WHO WILL THE BUSYBODIES WHISPER ABOUT ?
YOUR MOTHER IN HER IMPENETRABLE WORLD
WILL SAVE MONEY ON HOLIDAY/BIRTHDAY CARDS
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TV ghosts are coughed out of the cathode tube – trapped in
suspended on pause
a thousand questions from a thousand game shows
– the missing word was VICTIM
-surrogate father looms
-lost inside this liquid modernity surrounded by offices captured on camera and stored like pickles in jars
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Earthly passage and corridors
a little still
thoroughly
the price of admission is getting fat
in dreams will you survive?
it’s something to get through said the prophets of doom
they have contemplated this conspiracy
its not always
relentless
these awful longings
i recall it’s all a bloody shame
from the cradle to the grave
workaday faces
ready to freeze
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DISORIENTATED DIARY DETAILS
IS THAT LIKE POOP COLLECTED FOR A WEEK ?
DIFFERENT COLORS, TEXTURES, FIBERS, SHAPES, SIZES
(deep dark frightens me……how about just dark)
CARRYING A SNAKE, YOU ARE NO COMMON BEGGAR
THROUGH THE PEEPHOLE YOU LOOK LIKE ME
I AM UNKNOWN TO YOU
WE ARE DIFFERENT
INTELLECT, PASSION, EXISTENTIAL REBELLION
I RIDE THE COUNTRYSIDE IN A GOLDEN AUTOMOBILE
YOU RIDE OUT WEST WITH YOKO STRAPPED TO YOUR LEG
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THE TELEVISION GHOST WORLD TRANSITORY ???
FORMLESS QUALITY IS A GIANT LIE
THE FORMS ARE CRYSTAL CLEAR
TELEVISION IS MORE REAL THAN REALITY
EVERYTHING IS HARMONIOUS
PIECES OF THE PUZZLE FIT PERFECTLY
CRAZY PEOPLE CANNOT ENDURE THE FACE OF TELEVISION
THEY WANT SPONTANEOUS LIFE
THEY WANT TO SMELL THE KODIAK
AS IT CONSUMES THEIR INSIDES
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LIKE PICKLES IN A JAR:
ALL JUNK MAIL IS ADDRESSED TO “VICTIM”
PETRIFIED DOG DICKS
“HE SAIDS” “SHE SAIDS”
LIKE PICKLES IN A JAR:
LIFE IS THE REHEARSAL
BREAKING DOWN THE BARRIERS
BETWEEN INNER AND OUTER PLAYS
THE EMPTY THEATRE OF LOVE
IMPROMPTU TOUCHING
CURTAINS FALLING BY MISTAKE
I CANNOT REMOVE YOUR BEAST
YOU HAVE YOU WITHIN
YOUR SENSE AND VALUE OF THINGS
THEY ARE CHAINED TO YOU
STAR PERFORMER AT THE ZOO
I CANNOT REMOVE YOUR BEAST
MY WORDS ARE TICKETS TO YOUR EVENING SHOW
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diary entries followed no logical pattern – random days – numbers at the top of the page – some perfect others prime –
I read the lines that followed on –
one from another –
enjambment followed
enjambment – pages with no dates – absorbed like spilt milk into a fresh cloth – absorbed the words that fell onto the page – but we are not known to each other – trajectories never intersected –
I’ve seen you give the royal wave as drive past in your golden car – shining under nuclear sun – a basket of snakes restless and wriggling on the back seat –
an empty metaphor
a beggar with no story or charm
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SHE PUT A MESSAGE IN A BOTTLE
IT WAS THE MESSAGE FROM YOUR YOUNGER YEARS
YOU WROTE UNPLEASANT SCHOOLYARD WORDS
ALL THOSE OBSTACLES, HORRIBLE GRIMACES
LIVING IN FRONT OF A MIRROR
YOU SAW WHAT STRANGERS SAW
IDENTIFYING AND DEEP IN SHAME
—-PUBERTY WAS A SORT OF SUMMONING
A THOUSAND HAIRS, HAIR PANDEMONIUM
BEWILDERED BY A BROTHER
EVERYTHING UNFINISHED
PROBING
WHERE WERE YOU ?
YOUR EYES LIKE ANXIOUS GOLDFISH
EACH DAY WAS EXPERIMENTAL
BEWILDERED BY A BROTHER
EVERYTHING UNFINISHED
THE CROSSPATCH
SMALL YET STRONG
PRACTITIONER
THE BOOKS TALKED ……….THEY TRIED TO TELL YOU
FORGET ABOUT PERSONALITY AIM FOR ISOLATION
DOUBTS, UNCERTAINTIES, GIRL PARTS
SPLIT LEGS, ORIGINAL PINK
FOG UP THE EYEPIECE
A HAND-LOCKED POET
SEMI-INCESTUOUS
MATERIAL
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IT WAS VERY SIMPLE:
LOVE AND HATE IN THE KITCHEN
ADJECTIVES DISHED UP
FEMALE GIVE AND TAKE
THE DIRECTOR OF YOUR LIFE STORY
WAS TALKING TO YOUR MOTHER
ANY ANTAGONISM EXPRESSED
WOULD BE EXPRESSED IN FUTURE BOUTS
ALL WOMEN WERE THE SAME
SWEDISH SEX OR EMILY “NOT TODAY”
ALL THOSE FEEBLE FIRES YOU STARTED
TALKING OUTSIDE YOUR HEAD
VERBALIZED TRIVIALITIES
THE UNCHARTED TERRITORY
LATE PUBERTY
NOT THE HAIRS
BUT THE SKULLS
HATRACK CITY
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THE ATOMIC BOMB IS OUR FRIEND
IT WILL HELP PUT A STOP TO THE HUMAN RACE
THE GRASS WILL GROW GREENER
SILENCE MORNING, NOON AND NIGHT
EMPTY METAPHORS WILL HAVE NO VALUE
RUST WILL BE THE ART MOVEMENT
SCIENCE AND MATERIALISM AND PUSH PINS
THREE SHADES SHORT OF OCEANIC
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DISORIENTATED DIARY DETAILS:
WHO DO YOU BLAME FOR THE CRUEL MANIPULATION OF YOUR DESTINY ?
THE MOTHER CHURCH ?
FREUD, JUNG, YOUR PURITAN MOTHER’S WOMB ?
THE MELODRAMATIC CARD TRICKS OF YOUR FATHER ?
THE THEATRE OF SCHOOL/SOCIAL ABSURDITY ?
GAMES AROUND MORTALS ?
IRRELEVANT AND INCONSEQUENTIAL NUMBERS ?
IDEAS RATHER THAN REPRESENTING THE EXPERIENCE ?
MAPS OF HEREDITARY GUILT ?
MAPS WITH GIRL PEE STAINS ?
I ALMOST VOTED FOR THE MILK SPILT ON WHITE CLOTH
BUT THEN I CHOSE THE GIRL PEE STAIN
BECAUSE GIRLS ARE WEIRD ABOUT PEEING ON THINGS
MAKES IT ALL THE MORE SWASHBUCKLING !!!
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good sodomy includes music, dance, pantomime
light-hearted savagery
room for whirling struggle
hand towels for the brown
good sodomy
dramatic and nondramatic
improvisatory
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POETS FREQUENT THE CIRCUS
PEEPING TOMS OF THE LANGUAGE AGE
PHOENICIANS…FRONTAL LOBES AND TOILET WIPES
FIRE AND NIGHT SKY…GREEDY DREAMS
DOGMAS IN WHICH WE NO LONGER BELIEVE
QUIVERING ALONE IN THE COLD
A LITTLE LUBE AND HISTORY
EROTIC DELINQUENCY
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MACHINE MADE POETRY WILL BE LIKE PETER FONDA
ON A MOTORCYCLE
THE CORRUPTED DIVINE WILL SING OUT
INSTINCTUAL THOUGHTS
WET BLOOD FRENZY AND BARBARIC JOY
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THE PURE GOLDNESS OF THE AUTOMOBILE
WILL MAKE WHISPERS INAUDIBLE
ABE’S IDENTITY WILL REMAIN PRIVATE
HE IS AFTER ALL A STAR PERFORMER
7000 MILES BETWEEN INTENTION AND EXECUTION
LIMITATIONS ARE THOSE OF THE AUDIENCE
SOCIETY WITH TICKETS TO AN UNPLEASANT REALITY
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CARNIVAL CHOP-CHOP YOU RIDE YOU PAY
MACHINE MADE POETRY
LIKE PETER FONDA
ON A MOTORCYCLE
WORDS QUARREL AMONG THEMSELVES
THE BACKGROUND MAY BE FLUID
BUT THE CROTCH IS STATIONARY
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GLORIA STEINEM JUST SENT ME A SMALL NOTE
RANTING ABOUT THE THEME
OF THE WORLD’S WICKEDNESS
“MANUFACTURED SEXUALITY”
—what can I say about women in red capes ?—
INVEST IN YOUR AUTHENTIC IDENTITY
STOCKPILE ANTIDOTES TO REALITY
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THE GEOGRAPHY OF INNOCENCE: RED FLAG BULL DADDY
ONE PONDERS THE RANGE OF YOUR MATURE IMAGINATION
ADULT WAKEFULNESS….UNFINISHED AND ROUGH
THOUGHTS LIKE HOBOES WITH HOLES IN THEIR SOCKS
WHO COULD DECODE THEIR DISCARDED FILTH ?
MACHINE MADE WORDS ARE LIKE FAKE SUGAR
COMMUNICATION JUST TASTES WORSE NEVER SWEET
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IT IS AN ABOMINATION TO X-RAY A GHOST
THE IMAGE IS CHARGED WITH EXPECTATIONS
ONLY TO FIND A DOLLAR STORE GIFT
(copyright: you wanted a new bicycle but you got dental floss: XMAS 20013)
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X-raying ghosts is like catching water with a fork I was told – magnetic attraction pulls the forks nearer – bursts of radiation enter the bloodstream –
an unwanted Xmas gift is handed to the homeless with an electric cords for a belt – still attached to a toaster – clunking as he walks down the street – kids run when they hear him coming – layers of clothes hide his secret code
a desire to do more than just holding hands – dirty bird – I know the type – Normans mum warned me in a series of midnight lectures
I took notes
They made no sense
–
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YOKO MADE TAPE RECORDINGS OF YOUR INTERCOURSE
YOU CAN HEAR SKIN SMACKING AGAINST SKIN
I WAS SHOCKED
MY CLEAN WINDOW HAS TURNED OPAQUE
MYTHS AND MATH SYMBOLS TWIRL
SHE IS QUOTED AS SAYING THAT YOU WERE ROUGH
I THINK ONE OF HER LEGS CAME UNATTACHED
TO SAVE MONEY SHE WENT TO THE VAGABOND CLINIC
YOKO SITTING ON A CHEAP PLASTIC CHAIR
IN A ROOM FULL OF COLORFUL HOMELESS FOLKS
NO ONE KNEW HER IDENTITY
THAT SHE HAD 800 MILLION DOLLARS (AMERICAN)
SHE SIGNED IN AS SHANTY LENNON
SHANTY IS A VERY POETIC NAME
HAVE A LITTLE GROPE WITH SHANTY ?
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27 GOVERNMENT AGENTS ARE TRYING TO DECODE
THE SCRAMBLED WORDS ON THAT XXX RECORDING
THEY KNOW ONE WORD: AUSTRALOPITHECUS
THEY ARE GUESSING ABOUT NUCLEUS AWAKENESS
WHY COULDN’T YOU HAVE BEEN HAPPY WITH YOUR PUSH PINS ?
YOU COULDN’T WALK AWAY FROM THE CURIE HOUSE
NO…..YOU HAD TO GROPE AND GROPE
ERRATIC ORBITS, JOHNNY BOY
YOU CALLED THEM YOUR BROTHERS AND SISTERS
COLLIDING WITH EACH OTHER
HOW DO YOU MAKE THE FIRE SUBSIDE ?
HOW DO YOU QUIET THE SWEEP OF GOD ?
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THE EXISTENCE OF EXTINCT RADON
CURIE HOUSE CHATTER
THEY HAVE PHOTOS OF YOU COOKING UP
PRIMORDIAL SOUP AND PARENT CRYSTALS
(MURKY SOUP AND SOMETHING YOU BOUGHT ON E-BAY)
that’s what I told the agents with the entwined serpents
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the tapes sounds were misinterpreted – the skin on skin sound was Yoko slapping herself in an act of penance – (she can not forgive herself for the incident at the zoo with Sean) –
I was there
sat in a rocking chair plotting points on graphs and ripping pages from a Gideon and tossing them at a bin (I’m no Michael Jordan – I’m not bald) – sorrowful Yoko and her poisoned memories –
the missing leg is an allegory –
Shanty Lennon is the name she used when she was in that all girl r’n’b group – it was all bump and grind – the Beatle king wouldn’t have approved – Julian was embarrassed – gyrating mum
-Yoko slap herself again and the tape ends
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the recordings kept the 27 agents busy – day and night – they tried to decode the silence between the sound (now established as Yoko slapping her self) –
silence never sounded so quiet –
silence deafened them –
push pins were never enough to keep the little monkeys happy
australopithecus was a reference to a possible lost ancestry – fossils exposed by landslides examined under sterile conditions – old bones skull missing teeth discarded DNA – I was reading a study on it while slap happy Yoko punished herself –
I showed her pictures of skeletons
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the primordial soup was lukewarm – the radon poisoned the broth –
Curie lost teeth daily but
they grew back stronger but in weird places – teeth between toes – on her face
her forehead – she shit out new teeth – mountains of molars stored underfloor boards –
the agents have searched your eBay account and have questions they don’t want to know the answers to – you have left footprints everywhere –
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YOU DIDN’T EVEN MENTION THE ANTIDOTE TO SNAKE BITE
EVERY HOBO WHO HAS EVER KISSED A CHURCH BELL
WANTS TO KNOW HOW TO GET THEIR HANDS
ON THE ANTIDOTE
I’VE SEEN A BAG OF THORNS BEFORE
MEN WITH MOTOR GREASE UNDER THEIR NAILS
SITTING AROUND A LOW TABLE WITH GLASS PIPES
THERE WAS FRESH BLOOD ON THEIR PANTS
I TRIED TO MAKE SMALL TALK AS I WAS NERVOUS
THEY WERE DISCUSSING A MYTHICAL PHOENIX SACRIFICED
THEY WERE RENOUNCING THEIR PAST
LAYING THEIR FUTURE ON THE GET-HIGH ALTAR
THEY WERE THE CHILDREN OF SELF DESTRUCTION
AND SMALL TOWN IGNORANCE
WHAT CAN BE SAID ABOUT THE ACCEPTANCE OF ONE’S LIFE ?
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YOKO ONCE TOLD ME THAT SHE WAS TIRED OF ERASING
THE CHANGING CONCERNS OF MEN
FIGHTING WITH RULES, WORDS, AND POKERS
THE MALE WEAPON IS INTERESTING
BUT OF LITTLE LASTING IMPORT
(copyright: man’s loss of identity: nineteen sixties)
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COULD IT BE TRUE
THAT YOU SERVE YOUR MACHINE
INSTEAD OF BEING SERVED ?
——-IN A ROCKING CHAIR————
A POET IN A ROCKING CHAIR
SHOULD WATCH OUT FOR AN INNOCENT CAT TAIL
A HURT CAT YELL CAN BRING BAD LUCK
——-IN A ROCKING CHAIR————
A SPIT JAR ON ONE SIDE
A PEE BOTTLE ON THE OTHER
ONLY GOD KNOWS WHY YOU AREN’T PUBLISHED
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A HAND-LOCKED POET
SEMI-INCESTUOUS
PERCEPTIVENESS
PILLS THAT DEADEN THE ZOO SOUNDS
SO HIGH THAT ONE CAN RUN IN THE DARK
BAPTISMAL WATER ON ICE
THE WORLD ON FIRE
LAST JUDGEMENT SUNSHINE
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electric chair thrills the shotgun debris of her blasphemous words she burned all the books in the name of the avant garde
she can hear planes take off but she can’t see them – mechanical noise filters through thin walled rooms – asbestos creeps –
next door the agents twist dials on listening devices – six faced Joan is the fulcrum – the flames have been doused – no Phoenix will rise
everyday she self destructed just a little
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SLAP HAPPY SHANTY LENNON
NOW THAT’S A DISH ONE WOULD WANT TO TAKE TO A PICNIC
A CONCLUSION …A PITCH OF INVENTION
I WANTED TO WARN YOU ABOUT THE SILENCE
GOD ONLY KNOWS WHAT THEY WILL FIND
THE BRUTES…THE BASTARDS
THEY CAN’T LEAVE HIS LAST GASPS FOR LIFE ALONE
HOW MANY TIMES CAN YOU LISTEN TO THE KING DIE ?
UNDOCTRINAL ? HERETICAL ? CRYPTIC AND CULTIVATED
YOKO IS UNDER CONSTANT OBSERVATION
MORE EYES THAN THE FULL MOON ON LOVER’S LANE
FROM THE STRUCTURALIST AND LINGUISTIC ANGLE
NORMAN’S MOTHER TOLD YOU ABOUT HAVING A TENT IN YOUR PANTS
WHAT IF YOU WERE TO SMELL THE BREATH OF AN UNDERTAKER ?
WOULD YOU SMELL GEOGRAPHY ?
WOULD YOU FEEL SENTIMENTAL ABOUT E.A. POE ?
WE COULD BE FRIENDS BOTH DEAD AND ALIVE
ON OUR SEPERATE ICEBERGS
I’LL TELL EVERYBODY THAT YOU ARE THE CUTE ONE
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LOCKED IN THAT PATTERN OF NEUROSIS
PHOTOGRAPHS OF SKELETONS
TAKE AWAY ALL THE SKELETON PHOTOGRAPHS
EMPTINESS BETWEEN ECSTASY AND CYNICISM
I THOUGHT YOU WERE LAUGHING WITH ME
EVERYTHING AFFECTS HAPPINESS
STANDING ON FINGERS TO APPEAR TALLER
MISFORTUNE CONSTANTLY KNOCKING
UNIVERSAL AGONY ON VOICEMAIL
SPACE AGE SPORES STOLEN FROM THE CURIE HOUSE
YOU DIDN’T KNOW I KNEW
SEEDED FROM SPACE
SOMETIMES PEOPLE ARE MORE CONCERNED
WITH THE BREATH OF LIFE
JUST TRY TO CHANGE YOUR LIKENESS
GIVE UP YOUR COLOR…YOUR HOPES
REPETITION, COMPULSION, SKELETON PICTURES
BE ON THY GUARD, JOHNNY BOY
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10 MINUTES IN THE BURNING LAKE OF FIRE
AND ALL DESIRE FOR SEXUAL LOVE FADES
PAINFUL TORMENT…TOTAL DISSATISFACTION
YOU COULD NOT BE WHO YOU LONGED TO BE
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WALKING FORKS (DEFIANT MASCULINITY ?)
SPOONS LIKE ERECTIONS ON THE SIDE OF THE HIGHWAY
THROBBING CUTLERY
THIN ORIENTAL KNIVES
NO FUR NEAR THE FOOD TABLE
YOU WERE ALWAYS WANTING TO TOUCH THINGS
NORMAN’S MOTHER KNEW THE TRUTH
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SPONTANEOUS THIRST
STANDING IN BAPTISMAL WATER
YOKO WILL TRY TO FIX YOU
CHAOTIC STAPLES AND GLUE
ILLUSIONARY ILLUSIONS
RIGID CODES…JUST ASK SEAN
SUPERIMPOSED IDENTITY
EACH THOUGHT A GHOST
OTHER PEOPLE INSIDE YOUR HEAD
EXISTENTIAL ROOTS
CONNECT THE ACTS OF LIVING
YOU SPIT AND CLENCH YOUR FIST
WIDE AWAKE IN THEATRE CRISIS
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ONLY A POET WOULD SAY “HAIRY COCONUT”
ARE MONKEY SUITS ANTI-INTELLECTUAL ?
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multiplicity can be sinister and suffocating
please don’t take photographs
I am a pretender
my pretense
is all I have
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the wearing of masks
multiple faces
multiplemichael
disguised alter ego
it keeps Joan’s surgeons busy – we all have roles to play however few can get by without the script – (
bad weather – we need to cut this scene – let the extras have a break – a cup of tea -we need continuity though – is my hair in the same place!
)
multiplicity requires a good memory
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SOMETIMES I WISH YOU WOULD SPEAK OF YOUR CIGARETTE LIGHTER:
DOES IT HAVE A YOUTHFUL PORTRAIT OF YOUNG ABE ?
IS IT ELECTRIC OR OLD FASHIONED WITH PETRO ?
DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL WAY YOU HOLD IT IN YOUR HAND ?
IS IT A SPECIAL FRIEND THAT YOU ENJOY SEEING ?
DO YOU GUARD IT AND NEVER PERMIT OTHERS TO TOUCH IT ?
COULD IT BE YOUR MADNESS PERSONIFIED ?
EVERYTHING IS DETERMINED…YOUR THRONE, YOUR COSTUME
LIFE IS A CONSTANT MASQUERADE NOT JUST OCTOBER
YOUR SECRET IS SAFE…YOUR SECRET IS INVISIBLE
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you are a master at drawing the curtains over reality
only then do you let your guard down
I know you have plugs in your ears
the drums at night are like Homer’s sexual sirens
you so often sleep with an exclamation mark in your hand
in your dreams your manhood is a flaming sword
no silent hero one can hear the trumpets sing
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QUESTIONS WITHOUT ANSWERS….WHAT A HOBBY !!!
YOU ARE SO OPEN WITH YOUR TALK OF BINGO NUMBERS
EVERYONE KNOWS YOUR SUMS COME FROM THE CURIE HOUSE
POOR IRENE DIDN’T COME TO A COMPLETE STOP AT THE STOP SIGN
THEY SAY THAT IT WAS AN ACCIDENT…ALWAYS AN ACCIDENT
THAT POOR RUSSIAN CHAP WITH HIS CUP OF GLOWING TEA
THOSE MONSTER BINGO NUMBERS ATTACHED TO THE SUGAR
“WAVE GOODBYE TO THE DOORKEEPER”
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I DROVE ALL NIGHT JUST TO FIND ORDINARY UNHAPPINESS
BEING CRUEL TO MYSELF OVER NUMERICAL EXACTNESS
EVERYTHING IS MATHEMATICAL LEAKING METAPHYSICAL
NAKED IN FRONT OF THE MIRROR SPROUTING TOURNIQUET
SHUTTING OUT THE DRY SPONGE PLEAS
KISSED BY AN AFFLICTIVE HAMMER
DEVIL HIDDEN IN THE HUSK
ALL RIPE AND PRIZED
IRREGULAR AND EXTRAORDINARY
REVEALED ONLY IN THE APOCALYPTIC UNCOVERING
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“MY NAME IS LEGION: FOR WE ARE MANY” (MARK 5:8-9)
answer to the question: why is there a Bible in every motel room ?
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STALIN THE MAMMON
TALK ABOUT INFLEXIBILITY
HOW CAN PEOPLE NOT BE KEEPSAKES?
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FOUR MAGIC WORDS: AND YOU ARE MEAT
HANDLED AND CHAINED
ONE EYE FALSE
ONE EYE GENUINE
NONCONFORMITY
CAGED WORDS SET FREE
UNEXPECTED WORDS
STARK AND STRAIGHTWAY
SOCIAL OSTRACISM
GOOD HEAVENS BOY
THE CURTAINS ARE GODLY STITCHED
BLOCKING ALL TRAFFIC
HOMELESS ON A GEOGRAPHIC GLOBE
CHURCHBELLS MADE OF MEAT
ARE CALLING THE FAITHFUL
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YOUR WORDS MAKE THE READER A PARTICIPANT
MEAT UNREACHABLE BY OTHERS
HUMAN LIFE COPIED A THOUSAND TIMES
ON A CHEAP COPY MACHINE
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copied until it gets jammed – copier toner as a metaphor – the poets weapon – bold but fades until it disappears invisible illegible – the copies become weaker and weaker – nothing lasts forever – not you
not me
we are meat
which won’t last forever
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human keep sakes
-slaves
-golden fillings from teeth, stolen
-chained in a basement, hidden
-lampshade skin death mask
-embalmed mausoleum
-catacombs & cobwebs
-ashes
to
ashes
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suddenly a flashlight lights up a painful adolescence
a childhood torn up in pieces
each page a copy of a copy
the smell of green fish
unspeakable words
miscalculation
seesaw numbers you stole in school
other students were robbed of their color
their fortunes turned to misfortune
homes on dunghills
cheap cigarettes in Kentucky
repetition and then compulsion
rectal torment…the backdoor inflamed
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they say a storm is coming – the animals are making strange noises – they know something is in the air – sixth sense us humans lost when we fell from the tree – upright – a trade off –
survivalists are joyful, they get to use the bunker they built for the apocalypse – the end times (zombies roaming the street? a race war? the battle of religions? None of the above? )
and they can sit in there stating at their tinned food winding up radios listening to static looking at religious iconography
I look skywards for the Emily shaped clouds – cumulus Emily watching over me –
baton down the hatches
omans and portents can be seen anywhere –
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———–SHE IS ORGANIC, THRILLING, EXCITING, A CHALLENGE AND AN INSPIRATION
AROUND CAMPFIRES BOYSCOUTS SAY THAT SHE HAS THE FEEL OF EXALTATION
ONE FEELS IN THE IMMEDIATE PRESENCE OF DEATH
SEXUAL STARVATION……GORGED ? FAMISHED ?
STRIVING TO CREATE AN ILLUSION OF REALITY ?
COMBINATIONS OF WORDS LEFT BESIDE THE HIGHWAY
POINTS OF VIEW AROUND A DIFFUSED SUBJECT
PUNGENT SCENTS….POETRY THAT GIVES OFF AN ODOR
GNAWING WORMS IN PLOT CONSTRUCTION
YOU STAND IN THE SHADOWS WITH YOUR READY-MADE PATTERNS
PIECES OF MAPS YOU STOLE FROM THE LIBRARY
THERE WERE STORMS IN YOUR BOOKISH NATURE
“LOFTY MIND” LIVING IN A DECREPIT HOTEL
SOON…..THAT JUMPING-OFF POINT !!!
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MULTIPLICITY REQUIRES A GOOD MEMORY
ANY COMBINATION OF CONTRADICTORY TONALITIES
ENORMOUS WAVES…THEATRICAL DESCRIPTIONS OF THE STORM
FOLLOWING ITS INITIAL PLAN…BLOW BLOW WET WET
I SAW YOU TRYING TO MEASURE YOUR INTELLECTUAL CLOSENESS
TO THE NATURAL PHENOMENA
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PAUSE TO CONSIDER WHAT THE NEXT WORD WILL BE
THREADS IN THE WOVEN FABRIC OF POETRY
————DAMAGE CAUSED BY ANOTHER———————
INSIDE EQUIVALENTS !!! FOOTSTEPS IN THE MIND !!!
NORMAN’S MOTHER AND THE SUBJECT OF UNREACHABILITY
LANDSCAPE UNDER THE BATHING SUIT
INCALCULABLE FLESH
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my memory is shot to shit – I keep forgetting my lines – the director isn’t happy and he’s thinking of replacing me with a look-a-like –
he wants authenticity
a fake storm recreated in a warehouse – a plethora of faceless extras listless waiting for a speaking role –
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WHAT HELLISH ANXIETY——TO HAVE A LOOK-A-LIKE
OR TO BE A LOOK-A-LIKE
OR WANT TO BE A LOOK-A-LIKE
ARE YOU THINKING ABOUT SLUMBER IN THE LUMBER ?
SOMETHING MORE TO SPECULATE ON ?
FACELESS EXTRAS WITH HEAD COLDS
IS THAT NASAL DISCHARGE ON YOUR PILLOW ?
MANY DREAMS OF EMILY DICKINSON
SHE IS ALWAYS WANTING TO WEAR MY HANDS LIKE GLOVES
SHE WANTS TO SHARE MY “FEEL” OF THINGS
SHE WANTS ME TO TOUCH MY EXCLAMATION MARK
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EROTIC BOTANICAL AND ANATOMICAL MEANINGS
VELVETY TEXTURE EMBRACING THE BELOVED WITHIN
CRUEL TEETH CIRCLE THE HOUSE
HIDE THE “ATOMS”
THERE CAN BE NO MORE SINGING
HYSTERIA BEFORE EXPLOSION
CURIE HOUSE CHAOS
EQUIVALENTS ?
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three generations of look-a-likes – dilute the original, far removed from the mould – they can never be perfect copies – nothing ever is – cracks always appear, lines run spider web eggshell cracks – small flaws
in a film of my life I’d be:
– man in queue at the bank
– bystander
– onlooker
– out of focus and on the periphery
Emily tried to practice my lines but she would always go off script, elaborate with spontaneous sentences and I’d tell her
THERE IS A TIME AND PLACE FOR SPONTANEITY
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IMPULSIVE—UNPREMEDITATED (MARK IT ON THE CALENDAR)
SPONTANEOUS……….just turn the flashlight off and exist in the complete darkness
THEY LIE WHEN THEY SAY THAT THE SPICES SWEETEN THE DECAY
THE NAME OF THE PERFUME IS “HELPLESS AGAINST MORTALITY”
MECHANICAL INTERVENTION—HUMAN EMBALMING—THERE IS A TIME AND PLACE
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THE FILM OF YOUR LIFE—IS IT A FLESH SWINDLER ?
I WANT TO SEE A CLOSE-UP OF THE OUTCOME
YOUR TREE OF LIFE
CIRCLED BY THOSE WANTING A CLIMB
LIKE A NIGHTMARE OF SQUIRRELS HUNGRY FOR NUTS
NOT REALLY A NIGHTMARE—MORE LIKE A FART UNDER WATER
A FUTURE VERSION OF YOURSELF ?
A BLANK PAGE WITH A PETER NORTH SPILLOVER
HURRIED MASCULINE SLOWNESS AND THEN A STORM OF JISM
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INCOMPLETION AROUSES OUR CURIOSITY
A DENSER CONTEX OF KNOTS ?
ROPE WANTING TO REENTER
TO GRATIFY
INTERNAL
BARRIERS VANISH
ONLY ONE GENUINE PLEASURE
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hand over hand over the hands that pulled you out by the chord –
we took our chances living happily over there amongst drum beats that got louder as the sun disappeared
I stockpile weapons
paper & pens
that the 27 agents aren’t aware of –
she told me that it would be good to leave no trace – like smoke in the ether
All this while we soft hands held me
during the Trojan curfew all the lights went out
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arousal and suspicion a fear of the unknown –
what is beyond the forest?
what is in the woodshed?
a life spent entering and exiting
no remorse
no fist of guilt tightening internals
a ripe ladder to unknown places
a warm crimson
no barriers
she took me inside
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articulate as well as debonair
oral bullets injure innocent people
symptoms of their sociopathy ?
new women need new men
men need wordless holes
think as little as possible
only in the comedies are people quick-witted
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she had a deep unreachable pocket
suspicion would often surface
gender suspicion
fruitful human beings
find themselves in bad marriages
a live-in escort…a madcap momma
the final arbiter of sex
an alarm clock over Eros
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————————SEXUAL FESTIVITIES—————————–
KICK-BOXING AFTER THE FIRST 8 MONTHS
SLAPSTICK CLEVER WOMEN
CATALOGUED MATING HABITS
NOW SATISFACTORILY REMOVED FROM PRACTICE
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MEN NEED WORDLESS HOLES
REBUTTALS AND DUBIOUS THINGS
STEPPING ON GLASS IN THE DARK
STRENGTHENING THE SOUL
REMEDYING THE SOLE
REPAIR THE SPLIT
SHAPED TO A PATTERN
YET UNIQUE
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THE INVENTION OF MATHS
INAPPROPRIATE BEHAVIOR WITH NUMBERS
SCAPEGOAT FIGURES, SLIPPERY FINGERS
ONLY ONE MOMENT OF FULFILLMENT
A LIFETIME OF REGRET
ANGUISH UNREWARDED
A FRESH COAT OF SHAME
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VIRGINAL AND SAINTLY MEAT
THE BURDEN OF MEAT
UNWILLED MEAT
ACCIDENTAL
UNREDEEMABLE
INFLUENTIAL UNDERCUTS
CONSTRICTION
FOUR-WORD CONSTRICTION
“THAT HURTS LIKE HELL”
——————-YOUR LOYALTY TO NUMBERS
THE FEELINGS STIMULATED BY PUSH PINS
OBSCURE CHILDHOOD MAPS AND STRING
THAT SILLY COMPASS THAT RICOCHETS
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HOW CAN YOU SAFELY MEASURE THE DISTANCE
FROM THE TRIBE ?
AT NIGHT ONE HEARS THE DRUMS AND THE GOD-AWFUL CRIES
NO SUPPRESSION OF RAGE
PEOPLE DANCE NAKED
COVERED IN THE RED OF MYTH
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her plumage feathered and fine, she couldn’t hide from the survivalists and agents of another tongue,
in the damp hotels she had been my one salvation – her wordless hole a save house for the recidivist – we ticked off symptoms
we studied the changes in hues – through paper thin asbestos walls the anvil foundry clang of all typewriters searching for the right words – a room full of men in monkey suits thrashing away – trying to prove a point –
running battles with the truth
painstakingly taking measurements
5,000 light years into tomorrow
alarm clocks in vacuums
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EVERY DAY I HEAR THAT THE FLESH IS A TRAGEDY ABOUT TO HAPPEN
THE CLAY SALESMAN COLLECTS ATOMS AND ZEROS
HE SMELLS OF FIRE AND BRIMSTONE
HIS WIVE HAS PARALYZED HANDS
BUT TALENTED WARM FEET
TALK ABOUT VIGOROUS
UNDER THE TABLE
RIDDLING
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CUTTING THE FACE WITH A LARGE NAIL
A HAIR’S-BREADTH FROM FAILURE
BOILING WATER AND FRESH TOWELS
NOTHING VISIBLE BUT THE HEM OF A FLAP
HIDEOUS SUFFERING…NEEDLE AND THREAD
THE PASSAGE OF TIME SUBTRACTED
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the double life of the brimstone seller – secrets hidden in amongst ledger and receipts (tax deductible) stored in briefcases buried in woods
at restaurants she always ordered pulled pork –
we laughed sharing a joke –
dirty meat
she added up the prices discerned a pattern another code –
but pulled pork
tugged meat
it twitched at the mention
at the thought of her
the messy eater
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SAILORS SINGING ABOUT THE LOWER OPENING OF ACCESS
A PLACE FAMOUS FOR DARK TUG-OF-WAR
SAVAGE ACTS OF BROWN
DUCK SLIPPING
BLANK PAPER IN A ROLL
CANKER ROSES
FOR WORDS
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sailors dream of concrete and cars
they dream of grass and trees as they float on the earth –
dreams of great white Ahab –
salty backwash chokes tears –
Polaris should guide them home – waves upon wave upon wave they swear the moon has a face
delusions so far from the mothers breast –
there is no land in sight
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sailors dream of NECESSITY and what one must do to get what one must have
……………………………………….. and what one must do to do what one must
fate often rules on the open waters
Moses on Mount Nebo with his pockets of sand and inherited sin has wet dreams
sailors dream of the promised land
beautiful women in the water promise them warmth and love
they preach the gospel of man becoming God
torn and bleeding…..make no mistake
your fancy compass points towards a lowlife existence
a place where natives clamor for bread and water
12 channels on the tube and 9 of them are dedicated
to the fjords and moorlands of some hiny-hole place
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earthbound slaves tainted by compromise and hypocrisy
…………….the Devil is the King of Compromise…………….
ever notice that you are behind him in line at the deli ?
He loves pulled parish pork
He loves dirty meat
the more it smells like gypsy butt the better
probed buttocks on a large bun
permissive Italians applaud
life treated from a comic-ironic angle
madness being the backbone of the ego
madhouse drama
Johnny Boy
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writing the language spoken in life
you own the only prehistoric watch
you often time your intoxication
self-expressive poetry
the extravagant sweep of meat
preposterous animal meat
you look at photographs of extinct animals and drool
you dream of Cain and Judas taking a shower in Hades
Judas is beautiful…Cain is hung like his father
together they please the viewing public
life in Hell is better than reality television
healthy contrast of naked men in a fetid environment
sensational human machinery
the language of prose
restlessly experimenting
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locked in the pattern of neurosis, sailors taking a shower
“doing one’s lessons again and again”
happiness fleeting, masculinity at the moment of achieving it
naked men in a circle beyond intellectual rags
narrow ideological definitions
of them as bathing animals
that and the zing of jism bullets
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DEVIOUS AND COMPLICATED MEAT
THE NARROW CONFINES OF MEAT
MEAT BUCKETS: THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN TRAGEDY AND COMEDY
FALSEHOOD BEEF DECEPTION PORK
EVERYONE HATES FAKE MEAT
PRICKED BY HEREDITY
EDUCATIONISTS ARE LIVING ON YOUR SOFA
THEY WANT TO TORPEDO THE VIRGIN MARY
EASY MONEY FOR NONSOCIAL ACTIVITY
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ON A SCIENTIFIC BASIS, IT DOES NOT MEAN THE DEATH OF MEAT
HAIRLESS APES BORN OF INTERNAL CELLS
SEXUAL APPETITE AND SWIMMERS
ENSLAVEMENT TO THE BODY
SHORT-LIVED LONG-LIVED
RECOLLECTIONS
FORBIDDEN AMUSEMENTS
SAILORS TAKING A SHOWER
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“THIS IS MY LIFE”
what peels off year after year
your youth has grown old
one day your watch will stop
bushbodies will ignore your bones
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you show everyone your old theatrical artifacts
your life in a peek-hole clubhouse
designed for the entertainment of Peeping Toms
Wordpress poets horrified at seeing themselves reflected
for they detest each other and are bound together
trying to make public the unwritten background material
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can meat be both dead and alive?
walking meat
sleepwalking meat getting through the day – auto pilot meat – oblivious meat – dissolved in acid baths fried on orange flame
meat and concrete make up a third of the world – (that’s just guess work) – play with the numbers move the decimal points –
actors and their masks –
these words are just props
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(accepting the artificiality of words)
TO KNOW TRUTH BUT TO REJECT IT
NONTRUTH OFFERS A BETTER DEAL ?
POETIC LANGUAGE IS 10,000 NAILS BUT NO HAMMER
CRIMINAL FANTASIES ABOUT ANNIHILATING THE ESTABLISHED ORDER
REFLECTING ON REBELLION AND CRIME AND INSTINCTUAL LUST
MELTING MYTHS AND MAKING ANARCHISTIC BULLETS
FASHIONING HOLIDAYS OF SACRIFICE AND EXORCISM
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SOMETHING FAKE AMIDST THE AUTHENTIC DETAILS
TITILLATING SCENARIOS IN THE COMMUNAL SHOWER
NAKED SAILORS IN AN ATMOSPHERE OF MAKE-BELIEVE
THEATRICAL PORNOGRAPHY WITH MODERN DANCE
PROFOUNDLY DISTURBING AND SUBVERSIVE
THE CAIN AND ABEL STORY WITH SODOMY
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—————————–THE HORSE IS NOT REAL———————–
THE HORSE IS A FIGMENT OF THE IMAGINATION
a stray horse ? a lost horse ? a honeymoon bride horse ?
which would be worse:
straight men lubricating the buttocks of a female horse
straight men lubricating the buttocks of a male horse
?????????????????????????????????????????
EXPLOITATION OF LURID THEMES WELCOME
INAPPROPRIATE BOBBY SOCKS ON SEXLESS DOLLS
CIRCUS PERFORMERS IN GAY LOAFERS
OUTCASTS, WASTRELS, CRIPPLED PROCURERS
OLD CIGARETTE SMOKERS ON ARTIFICIAL RESPIRATION
FEMALE SENIOR CITIZENS WHO WHIZZ IN THEIR HANDBAGS
ORANGE JUICE PEE IN AN EVERWIDENING ARC
THE ACCIDENTAL STREAM IS NOT THE FIRST SETBACK
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PEOPLE NEVER DISCUSS THE SOMEWHAT UNREAL PERSONALITY OF CUTLERY
CUTLERY LENDS ITSELF TO OUR SYMBOLIC IMAGERY
CUTLERY HELPS MAKE LIFE WORTH LIVING
EVEN UNDER THE WORST CIRCUMSTANCES………
FUNCTIONING IN THE MIDST OF LONELINESS AND SORROW
PEOPLE AS VEHICLES SOMETIMES LOSE THEIR WAY ON THE ROAD OF LIFE
HOWEVER, CUTLERY REMAINS SOLID….OFFERING PEAK PERFORMANCE
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angered by the naked chasm–the two-way traffic of the naked sailors
the palpable slick horse buttocks–the black circle and the splashing mud
miles of track laid–daddy mushroom wet with shrimp paste ?
Norman’s mother knew only too well about eroticized desires
white males looking at themselves in mirrors
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when there is no land in sight
one must either suffocate or swallow
to be amongst the common dead
meat that walks to the butcher
no smiles on the repugnant passage
the rubber boots a nasty red
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the heavy thud of a sexual spark
natural misdoing encoded in literature
poets with their dreams of greatness
their scrubbed words
fig leaves for decency
a giant fig leaf for your decency
tolerated when innocent
never as a lasting phase
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Queen Victoria, “Women do not do such things.”
Emily Dickinson would smoke Turkish tobacco
and swallow pins and needles
she would write mysterious lewd words
and give names to unnamed body parts
She loved the word, “Sequim”
could she yield to temptation ?
she often had monstrous thoughts
her secret catalog of sins
her life of corruption
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LEFT TO THE IMAGINATION
A HALF-SMOKED ITALIAN CIGARETTE
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she was having flashbacks to a time when she wasn’t here –
when she wasnt her –
pencil in hand a
blank pad stared naked white like a snowy tundra
[ a refrain: it’s the same all over ]
no land in sight the sea
a blanket – the sailor states dead for miles
– back on land he feels claustrophobic surrounded by concrete the buildings the people things appear to close in the noise infects – he touches trees to be close to nature to be nearer the sea
she notices changes the sexual spark has de-sparked (is that even a word!!) – there is no longer touching caresses dirty whispers nibbling nubs nothings – she lets her grow long while he’s on the tide ebb and flow
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AS YOU ERASE YOURSELF YOU ALSO ERASE ME
___________________________________________
you daydream about her holding you tightly and saying, “GIDDYUP !”
replace that diminished masculinity with SUPERMAN MASCULINITY
be the big man in the bedroom—huge hands and working parts
peel the skin tenderly and stare at the meat
erotically tactile meat
geographical meat
rootstock daddy
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the sailor hints at wrist precision
tense strength
is he holding on to his ancestral past ?
the poeticism of pulling his pud ?
his father seven hominids back ?
you mention being claustrophobic
a rather small bed with her oral heritage
all those critics inside her speaking
the constant weight of memory
countless repetitions—emotional reflections
carnal is a carnival that has left town
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BLANK PAD STARED NAKED WHITE LIKE A SNOWY TUNDRA*
____________________________________________________
NEWLY MADE THAT NAKED WHITE BED
PROMISING PROMINENCE OF ORALITY
jOHNNY bOY WITH HIS DELIGHT IN TASTING AND TESTING
DO YOUR READERS RIGHT
SMUDGE NOT YOUR MENTAL LANDSCAPE
NEITHER COOK NOR CONSUME YOUR PRONGED IDENTITY
YOUR OTHERNESS AT THE EXPENSE OF MY DEATH
* subversive sexualities on the snowy tundra
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she is glue – the adhesive –
she asks me if I’m a hypnotist as I make her do things she’s never done before –
we daydream – hand in hand – laying vertical on verdant soils –
cloud patterns are just that – clouds in the sky – not natures own Rorschach test – it’s all just particles –
love is my architect
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the civilized veneer of Michael knocked down by the clumsy driving of a Jesuit Poet
crushed beneath the fatalism of WordPress where men castrate themselves
anything to discourage speculation about motives
after all, he is just a contestant
a psychological drip in the night sink
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SAILOR HINTS———-WAS THAT JUST SURFACE VOCABULARY ?
IMPULSES TOWARD INDEPENDENCE
LEAVING THE STATUS OF WAGED EARNER
GRIMY BACKYARDS AND UNMISTAKABLE PROBING
NIGHT AFTER NIGHT ON THE BOAT
SUBMISSIVE MOODS, NOT TOO LAVISH
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sailor vocabulary is peppered with salty words –
loud swords that get lost in the swell – a secret language that can only be used in international waters –
their burly arms contain tattooed stories – tales of things they don’t want to forget – no woman out there
– men look at each other in a way the Gideon’s would disapprove –
anyways, it’s all rather spartan out there –
all very basic –
any port in a storm – ploughing the grimy backyards of what’s already passed
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WHAT DO I KNOW OF SAILOR VOCABULARY ?
I SLEEP IN A COFFEEHOUSE
AND LIVE ON CRUMBS LEFT BEHIND BY CLERKS
AND OTHER PASSENGERS ( blank faces in the crowd )
THE ONLY THING I TAKE PRIDE IN:
————–WHEN I DIE, I WILL NOT BE CHINESE———————
WORDS OF DEEP METAPHYSICAL MYSTERY
DEATH IS THE ULTIMATE ISOLATION
ALL THOSE LITTLE SOCIAL GAMES BECOME “STIFF-FROZEN”
REAL DEATH MAKES BUFFOONS OUT OF DARKNESS AND DECAY
NO ONE LIVING KNOWS THE COLOR BLACK
TO ELIMINATE DEATH ONE MUST ELIMINATE LIFE
ONE CANNOT TRIUMPH OVER THE BITTER PILL DEATH
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LOUD SWORDS—-are those the decayed trees that we build our homes out of ?
lost in the swell—–I SEE LITTLE KITTENS AND ECCENTRIC GREEN TEETH
SECRET LANGUAGE—-a really secret language would only have one word
to take a shower and wash away the corrosive elements
—-YOU GONNA NEED INTERNATIONAL WATERS
burly arms with ink drawings—-SIMPLE GOADING FROM GOD
——-AN ATTEMPT TO ANNIHILATE ALL CAPACITY FOR STUPIDITY
within ourselves, the means for our own deconstruction
THANK GOD, I WILL NOT BE CHINESE WHEN I FALL APART !!!
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GRIMY BACKYARDS OF BALLET DANCERS, WRESTLERS, BULLFIGHTERS
SUFFERING THE BACKSIDES WITH INTELLECTUAL INHIBITIONS
THE ONRUSHING BROWN—THE BLOOM OF ODOR EXPRESSION
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the pilgrims throw offerings from the cusp – backwater renegades – dirty boots – (it’s cold here know, things look different in this light) –
strange bedfellows of intellectual curiosity –
pure maths vs impure maths
dirty numbers
———
We emerged from the wigwam – feet sticking in the slurp of mud – we followed the river like pioneers but we had to religion to sell –
——–
every moment was incalculable – we couldn’t get our bearings in the woods amongst the trees – glimmers of light knifed through the canopy – just enough – the avoidance of darkness
—-
we were pioneers upstream with a case full of cutlery
Wild animals smelt our odours and followed
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VIGOROUS ACTS OF ERASING (lots of latent erasing)
TOUCHING ELBOWS EVERYDAY WITH BLANK IGNORANCE
SMART PEOPLE USE COMPLEX ACTS OF FILTERING
———-THE WORLD OF SEXUAL SOUP——————
SPOKEN LANGUAGE ROUND AND ROUND
ASYLUM CHIT-CHAT, “KEEP ON THE MAIN ROAD”
I PROMISE MYSELF PLEASURE
TRANSPARENTLY READABLE PLEASURE
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THE QUESTION IS: ARE YOU TAKING PHOTOGRAPHS OF MY PLEASURE ?
TO GO ON AS IF NOTHING HAS HAPPENED
TO BE AN ETERNAL BOY—A PETER PAN SO TO SPEAK
ARE YOU TRYING TO PUT THE FRUITS OF EXPERIENCE BACK ON THE TREE ?
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THE MAIN ROAD IS A TOKEN OF SOMETHING MORE
A SILENT BUT NOT SECRET DEPARTURE FROM THE CITY
PURPOSEFUL ACCELERATION—MARRIAGE NEVER ENTERS THE FRONT DOOR
ECSTASY WITH THE SWIFT MOTION AND THEN SOMETHING HUGE SWALLOWS YOU
WERE PEOPLE REALLY UNWELCOMING YOU AS THEY WAVED IN MUTED HUMS ?
DEVIOUS AS WELL AS CLEVER, BEDMATES FLUTTER IN THE WIND AS LEAVES
ANOTHER DRINK, SMALL TALK, MURMURS AND GRUNTS BUT SELDOM POETRY
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THE PRICE ONE PAYS FOR DOING WHAT ONE WANTS
FREUDIAN NICKELS AND DIMES —REPERTOIRE LOVERS
FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE FALLING FROM THE SKY
MASOCHISTIC PLEASURE PAID FOR WITH SCIENTIFIC PAINS
TO ERECT ATTENTION WITH PUSH PINS AND STRING
SOIXANTE-NEUF WITH HAIRS AND THE TASTE OF LIVER
ALARMED AT THE SMELL OF PERSONALITY
EARTHY WORMED LIPS SWOLLEN
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pin-pointing the very moment of transition
she with her yearning and you with your critical words
push pins and cheap cotton string connect your fallen woes
near-betrayal in thought ……..unmistakable
a druidic difference on the songs you sing
each leaf a deciduous heartbeat
a word we both pretend to understand
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YOU NEVER MENTION THE CLOSET-CAGE
OR LANGUAGE AS PAINFUL AS RAPE
THERE WERE DREAMS OF DESEXED GHOULS
AND CONVERSATIONS WITH NORMAN’S MOTHER
MACHINATIONS OF A WIFE
MAKING TRIPS IN REVERSE
——YOU ARE THE MAN OF THE HOUSE—–
SIRED CHILDREN LEFT AND RIGHT
AND NOW THE POSTSEXUAL REGIME
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REALITY CAN BE DEVILISHLY COMPLICATED WHEN IT COMES TO THE BEDROOM
THE IMPLEMENTS OF MARRIAGE—-PRIMITIVE MARKINGS
YOUR EXERCISES IN DECIPHERMENT
RIGHT TO THE EDGE OF ERASURE
JOHNNY BOY UNPROTECTED
BASIC MODUS OPERANDI
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YOU GO TO PEE AND THERE ARE SPIDERWEBS IN YOUR PORT
WHEN YOU WRITE ABOUT ECSTACY AND INTIMACY YOU GO BY THE CHARTS
CORE IDENTITY IS THE MOTHERLODE OF ALL PUSH PINS
DECEPTION AND SELF-DECEPTION ARE TOWNS IN KENTUCKY
FAR BEYOND THAT OF WRITTEN LANGUAGE OR CAGED LIFE
LIBIDINAL UNFINISHED BUSINESS EASILY OVERLOOKED
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——-A STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS THAT FREUD COULD NEVER CROSS——–
forget the storm…any port in town—-bittersweet sodomy
writers have a hankering to explore brown
the intellectual rot of the buttocks
often with great success
what does one say during the descent ?
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irresistible attraction turns into repulsion
tormented with the need for a source of pleasure
poems about receptivity and refusal
she could not caress but she could be caressed
in private quarters she was convulsive
often followed with pronounced discomfort
always tension between free play and restriction
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these moribund feelings rise up
a red torrent of her lava lakes –
French cigarettes – never no regrets- petting her pets
entangled fur under nails –
the phone call won’t connect because they use a different number system – a switchboard of ghosts
(… at the local hospital they circumcise children an throw their discarded foreskins out of the window – the grounds are full of foreskin tress bearing waxy fruit
unwanted foreskins are also used to graft onto the skin of burn victims…)
surgeons use knives from the factory – the shares of Leviathan rise day after day
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in Kentucky men think about girls as being perky
if doubt over a non-gender person should arise (females always look ashamed)
men touch their crotch constantly and tell jokes about three-fingered neighbors
there are no Kensington lampposts in Kentucky
the next STD installment is circled on the calendar
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RUDOLPH VALENTINO IS STILL MAKING THE CIRCUIT IN KENTUCKY
SO MANY PEOPLE LIVE FOR THE PROMISE OF EXCITEMENT
GIRLFRIENDS, WIVES, LOVERS (DOLL-LIKE ATTENDANTS, PLEASE)
SHE SAYS THAT YOU SUFFER FROM FALSE HUNGER
YOU SEE YOURSELF AS RAVENOUS—THROBBING WITH ORGIASTIC DESIRE
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I LAUGHED WHEN YOU PULLED OUT SOME COUNTERFEIT EMOTION
LIFE IS FULL OF UNFILLED WANTS……….DIDACTIC WANTS ?
THE RIGHT KIND OF ORGASM
A SUDDEN RUSH FROM NOWHERE
OUTSIDERS WHOSE IDENTITY IS MYSTERIOUS
KEY SCENES OF EROTICISM WITH BODY PARTS YOU CAN’T PRONOUNCE
PIVOTAL SCENES WITH LOTS OF FRICTION
REINVENTING THE LEXICON OF COUNTERFEIT EMOTION
A THREAT OUT OF NOWHERE ORGASM
“I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO DIE”
“I THOUGHT I WOULD NEVER RECOVER”
A CRUEL CHARMLESS MOVIE OF INNER-BREEDING IN KENTUCKY
ANGRY ANATOMY WORKING THE BUSINESS
UNDER HER SKIN WAS A STRANGE WATER-ANEMONE
LEAKING FLUID FEELINGS…UNSPEAKABLE AND RHYTHMIC
PROBABLY JUST ANOTHER FORM OF SICKNESS
(SCENES OF PURITANICAL HYSTERIA ON THE EVENING NEWS)
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the relationship went downhill after the operation –
from his stem he shoot fresh air – it was alway over in seconds –
she would never remember these times
nothing to see here – move along
she asked me did deaf people understand sarcasm – was there a sign for it?
There are signs for everything
there are signs everywhere
all over unspoken words in a world of world – the poet hates silence
And her counterfeit emotions, I saw her making them over a hot anvil – beaded sweat on her brow – and in her warehouse there are boxes of emotions which she sells on line –
I’ll be on the first rocket out of here
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inhabitants who live without a web of language
natives by torchlight beat their drums
angry that words have arrived
even lizards are not that dumb
take your humanity and return to Europe
your pee stinks and your women are ugly
we are only consumed with devouring and mating
we are the business of the earth
we share not your dividing eyes
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SADLY, ROCKETS ARE LIKE CARNIVAL RIDES
CIRCLES NEVER ACHIEVE VISION
LIFE FEEDS OFF DEATH
POETS OFTEN SPEAK OF FINDING SCABS ON THE GROUND
AS A HUMAN AM I NO BETTER THAN DRIFTED WOOD ?
TOO LAZY TO USE COMPRESSED ACCURACY WHEN I WRITE
TO ERASE MY OCCUPATION IS THE BUSINESS OF THE EARTH
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the scales are always tipping – I feel like I’m underwater – she is far from the edges of my mind – the winter is coming
the winter is here – the world is looking dead – my camouflage is dying – there were better times
longer roads
we have come far – these trips through the portals – unaligned thoughts – this endless thread –
multiplemicheal coming with the words – words
words
a knife
a fork
radioactive waste in the curie house
dead curtains
factory for sale
the cycle of death
maggots and worms
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I saw her—-happy and no longer hypnotized with that sad mood—-she was waving bye
heartbreaking I know—-friends say, “who’s keeping score” ???
thank god you’re not on the NEWS with policemen digging in the lawn for bones
don’t think about the busloads of men that she flirted with
men who paid for the electricity and the baby formula
don’t think about the happy times when you first joined the swelling number of martyrs
good god man, you lasted longer than all the rest
you’re famous in a quirky sort of way
now you have time to read William Blake
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YOU ARE SUCH A LUMINOUS BEG IN A COMMUNITY OF BEGGARS
POSSIBLY BOMBED TO SMITHEREENS ON ITALIAN CIGARETTES
THAT’S RIGHT I CAN SEE YOU IN THE MIRROR
WE’VE SHARED BLOOD MANY TIMES
WE KNOW WHAT IT MEANS TO GROW UP
ALL THOSE THINGS THAT ARE HIDDEN
———-AND ENFORCED———————
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YOU NOT ONLY FEEL LIKE YOU’RE UNDER WATER
YOU LOOK LIKE YOU’RE UNDER WATER
THERE MUST BE A LOT OF DARK DEALINGS IN YOUR FATE
I STILL LAUGH THINKING ABOUT YOU CROSSING THE BORDER
WITH A COPY OF THE CURIE DIARY, “BY THE BOOTSTRAPS”
IN AMERICA YOU COULD HAVE BEEN WHIPPED, IMPRISONED, POSSIBLY SHOT
THAT JOHNNY BOY GRAVESTONE COULD BE ERECTED SOONER RATHER THAN LATER
YOU’RE AWARE THAT IT IS GOING TO PIN YOU DOWN ?
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WHITE-COATED FIGURES MOCK YOU
JOHNNY BOY SEEMS MUFFLED
IS HE UNDERWATER ?
JOHNNY BOY IS UTTERLY UNEQUIPPED
HIS COMPASS AND GAUGE-TESTER STOLEN
I WANT TO ERASE HIS DEFINING CONTOURS
INTRODUCE JOHNNY BOY TO THE INVISIBLE WORLD
BLANK SHEET JOHNNY—ARE YOU INSIDE THE MACHINE ?
A “PLAYER” IN THE SECRET AGENT BROTHERWORLD
SPEAKING TO THE FISHES IN LOWER FREQUENCIES
A MAN VIRTUALLY DISAPPEARING
ALMOST ERASED
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I HEARD YOU PRAYING LAST NIGHT IN YOUR BUNK
“PLEASE ELUDE HIS RETINA”
YOUR ELEMENTAL OPENING OF SELF SCARES ME
ARE WE ABOVE KENTUCKY OR BELOW IT ?
NOTHING LIKE PRIMAL FEELINGS TWO FEET AWAY
I CAN SMELL HUCKLEBERRY FINN ON YOUR BREATH
JOHNNY BOY, YOU ARE A CURIOUS MAP !!!
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A NIGHTMARE HISTORY OF LOVE
WALLS INSIDE WALLS
BROKEN LIMBS
CURTAIN UP CURTAIN DOWN
FLESH GLOVE PENAL STINT
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back to curtains – love gloves made from them – stitched with silk thread – your own hands soft caress
– some time you didn’t need people – just a locked door
and plenty of time
we all have these moments when we are alone – think what must go through a prisoners mind
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TEMPTATION RISKED TEMPTATION RESISTED
THE DECISION TO REFUSE A RIDE—TO WALK THROUGH LIFE
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SCROTAL COFFEE CAN BOOGIE
CIRCLED IN RED
WARRANTS CLOSER INSPECTION
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SPONTANEOUS EXPRESSION LIKE AN AUTOMOBILE ACCIDENT
CARRIES THE WORST DISCOMFORT THE NEXT DAY
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Illegal searches
warrant-less detectives
are just people with badges
like Boy Scouts with guns
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when your driving you do so on an unconscious level – your body is a machine going through the motions – Pavlovian responses to external stimuli – your mind is elsewhere
– automobile accidents are a reminder to focus – to be there in the present – STAY AWAKE AT THE WHEEL
(…I was in car crash
warm blood trickled down my face – I thought I was in Poland – my lunch was sprayed across the cracked windscreen – everything smelt of lasagne – warm blood in my eyes – I thought my brains were meat – the radio still played in the silence – my ribs ached from impact)
the car will be the death of shoes
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the act of serving is a series of Pavlovian responses to external stimuli – most people drive in a fog
(…I was in a car crash warm blood in my eyes – my lunch splattered across cracked windscreen – I thought I was dead – I thought my brains were on the windscreen – I thought I was in Poland as it smelt of lasagne – ribs ached and I couldn’t find my glasses – I was drowning underwater with my blood in my eyes…the radio still played but the engine was dead…)
it seems Americans love cars as much as they do guns …if you invent a gun you can drive you will die a rich man …
cars will be the death of shoes
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poetry:
……………………repetitive physical gestures
emotional paralysis
……………………you siphoned off the important stuff
mourning and then erupting—the final plunge
JOHNNY BOY has pierced the unnamable
a dark night…the angels have covered the moon
appropriate language: self-definition
THE READER NAKED LIKE A TONGUE CUT OFF TO FRY
NOTHING WILL NEUTRALIZE THE INSANITY
THE TASTE OF TONGUE
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MASCULINE POETRY IN FEMININE VOICE
REFUSING THE MASK OF A MALE
A BOTTLE OF RUM
A LOADED GUN
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don’t blame the gun or the bullett – human intervention causes the damage – guns would live in piece without us –
keep the guns
keep the tanks
have a human amnesty
hand yourself in
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tongue rubs over the geography of her mouth – the froth despondency drips and foams – coffee cups the size of Olympus Mons – weighed down by the neutrality of it all –
I have pierced more than the heart of it – one face but many names – Johnny Boy has plunged depths –
she like my new haircut – she said it was contrived and sharp – she touched it and bleed – it was predetermined I told her last week before this happened –
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you’ll be a one man army
you with your JOHNNY SEVEN GUN
seduced into sin on a grand level
educational curiosity turned erotic
instructed eyes feast
such a fuss about
seeing the flaps
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ANY PORT IN A STORM
BUT I AM SHY OF THE BROWN
AND THE SMELL
OUTSIDE MUSCULAR YOUTH
ONE FINDS A POTATO SACK OF FLESH
HAIR BOTH PRIVATE AND PUBLIC
POSSIBLY A LOST UMBRELLA
MAN MILK AND BUTTER
BETTER LEFT TO ANOTHER
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580 COMMENTS—-HOW DOES ONE SUSTAIN THE TENSION ?
SO MANY POETS WITH BAD EARS AND WEAK SIGHT
CAN NO LONGER SPOT THE VOWELS AND CONSONANTS
READERS FIND THEMSELVES IN UNFAMILIAR TERRITORY
ASSONANCE AND ALLITERATION ARE SMALL TOWNS IN ALASKA
AURAL FABRIC CANNOT BE PURCHASED IN A DOLLAR STORE
VOTE “YES” TO POETIC CRAFT IF GIVEN AN OPPORTUNITY !!!
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THE POWERS OF FEAR:
YOU FIND YOURSELF IN A GUESS-WORK PERCENTAGE
YOU MAKE PLANS TO ESCAPE IN THE NIGHT
YOU SUFFER THE RAREST EFFECTS OF SEX
YOU WRITE ONE-SENTENCE AND BECOME CONFUSED
YOUR SYNTAX IS MORE MUSICAL THAN LOGICAL
YOUR STREAM IS LABORED AND SLOW—SEEMINGLY CLOGGED
YOU PUT BROKEN GLASS IN YOUR SOCKS AND GO FOR A HIKE
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SCROTAL COFFEE CAN BOOGIE
is that a wrong choice for the purpose of visualization ?
circled in holiday red—warrants closer inspection
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the sign warned that the hotel-motel town
was full of cottage-maids and other simpletons
I kept driving—hoping to make it
to a village of shipwrecked sailors
(there’s something to be said for salty meat)
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the poets’ differing sources of inspiration
possibly an automobile accident
or a jar of jism
does one need a flashlight to find their voice ?
I am afraid of tidy data
trial and error with a giant razor-blade
the doctor says, “stay flexible”
who can question the creative power
of a warm and moist hole ?
who taught Adam to bark like a dog ?
are poets like tourist guides ?
traces of inspired genius
can be found on toilet paper
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she put a message in a bottle……………closing the curtains at the end of the poem
you like curtains—they control shadows—your personal pessimism
other people want to underline your sense of failure
“to hell with those people” the marionette show of life sucks
ASK SATAN ABOUT FRUITLESS COMPETITION
the other contestants can be cut out of the picture
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seized by the angry spirit of the bathroom mirror
caught up in the storm of the day
what phantom means of transportation
will carry you to your work ?
moody madness there at the office
common folk under watchful eye
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the curtains may be a way of assuring continued remembrance
strange and discomforting—the reader receives it second-hand
——————you carry your thoughts home————————–
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lazy poets & poor readers give up after the first few lines – no staying power these days – I prefer the slow burn – the journey not the destination –
lazy readers and poor poets are scattered across this portal – no mention of the Kodiak bears who hibernate in caves, waiting –
don’t force the logic or offer solutions – this is a forest in which many will get lost confused by a new geography where the canopy hides the stars –
new reports report of seeing confused people emerge from the trees, their eyes like Normans mother, a handful of dirt and words in their hands – knee skinned adventures who have bitten of more than their weak teeth can chew
new stories available for a small price
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LANGUAGE WITHIN LANGUAGE
THAT’S WHY POETS DRIVE SUPER FAST CARS
VERBAL MUSIC AT A HIGH RATE OF SPEED
ONE WRONG WORD AND PREPARE
FOR A MISLEADING CONCLUSION
DESPERATE STRAITS ?
NEVER WINK OR FOOL AROUND
OR WALK OR TALK AGAIN
POSSIBLY BLIND
OR WORSE
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WEALTHY Kodiak BEARS ARE MOVING TO FRANCE
NOTHING BUT CHEERFULNESS
TRUCKLOADS OF LAUGHTER
AT THE BUFFET YOU CAN EAT ALL THE TROUT YOU WANT
SEEMS THE SERVERS CANNOT KEEP COUNT
THEY ARE GREAT WITH SKELETON KEYS
AND DIFFICULT BACK DOORS
BUT ILLITERATE (?) WITH MATH
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NORMAN’S MOTHER HAD A REAL SKILL
AT INCORPORATING STARTLING IMAGES
………THE TITTERING OF HER EYES
(like reminiscing with E.A. Poe)
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bad dreams about gridlocked metaphors
—free verse existentialist imagist—
when it comes to pornographic narrative
Norman’s mother always said, “name your apparatus”
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Normans mums eyes
Joans faces can learn alot from them
cold stones set in skin
rockign chair at the window and a mind that is somewhere on Pluto
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Joans 14th face was empty
skin with no features – vacnat like run down shopping malls
wrinkels liek steep gradients on maps, moutains
a true puzzle, how did she see?
a sixth sense?
animal insticnts?
a priomoridal sense?
her face creares its own language on a daily basis
EXCESS SKIN SOLD TO BURNS VICTIMS ON-LINE
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normans mum was a jinx
a jonah in the belly of a whale
Normans apparatus scared her, reminded her of his
father, all fat and useless
fat useless meat that occasioanlly wept
Norman in the sandbox a million miles from here wandering “what happend to Charlie?”
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Norman’s mother often wrote in a cryptic language
her external manifestations came from an inner source
her revelatory writing pointed toward prophecy
poor Norman was just a small lad in a savage world
the voices turned to ridicule
the loss of reputation
unspeakable flashes of passion
were crowds of men up his backside ?
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a crowd of men up the backside
is an experience
one might find indescribable
poor Norman was lost
in alternatives and opposites
sensations rendered
pings of estrangement
full of feverish friction
an onset of male sausage
a single drum beat
hot lava
and then a new pounding
anguish, regret, the loss of feeling
mounting pressure repetitive pressure
sanity beyond adequate adjustment
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INSTABILITY FOR A SMALL PRICE
TO SPEAK WITH IMPUNITY
INSIDE THE FAIRY TALE MASK
CHILDHOOD IMAGES OF VIOLATION
JOY AND TRANSPORT
CAPTURED ON A POETIC SLANT
A SINGLE INTIMATE DROWNING
MEMORIES FLOATING TO THE TOP
INSECTS ON THE SCHOOLBUS
MIMETIC EXPRESSIONS FACE-FIRST
SUGGESTIVE OF BATHROOM ISSUES
LABORIOUS AND AWKWARD
EACH DROP A BEGINNING
THAT WHICH IS USUALLY SCORNED
BECOMES AN INTEGRAL SNAPSHOT
HIDDEN FROM ALL UNDERSTANDING
A MODE OF POIGNANT IMAGERY
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sanity adjustments required daily – in the factory they will fit them with a dial to alternate mood – a happy volume switch
so to speak
600 strong now
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suddenly I feel guilty
my words are no better than debris
found along side any highway
my barbaric thoughts
turned into caveman expressions
mutilated and impoverished
pastoral gone wrong
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we all fill guilty when we empty ourselves in front of others – when we are left open for inspection –
words are debris
detritus of your thoughts
captured in agreed and accepted patterns and shapes
guerrillas at a typewriter smashing the keys
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WE DO NOT UNDERSTAND WHY
WE WEAR GLOVES OF DEATH
can we anticipate the pain to come ?
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in poetry there are no innocent bystanders
people focus too much on the outside
your body is your home
soon you will be homeless
a curse to be born ?
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when you leave your body, a derelict wreck
a shell
you will be homeless
but you have been homeless since you left the parish
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the gloves are latex and see through
no need for x-rays here
we are all see through
tiny skeletons all reaching for the sun
their pain and pleasure to come
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an elaborate excursion into domination
tiny skeletons all reaching up
trying to grasp the wings of their longing
to escape
night after night sleeping on salty flotsam
no corner to pee or poop
shadows remind you of rotten German bastards
the shabbiness of WW2—bombs and more bombs
the logical outcome was to rip Christ from the cross
the hooves of Satan clattering (deafeningly)
all grotesqueness melted into a happy ending
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what do you say to a group of stiff-necked poets ?
——————————————————————–
menstrual blood on the door implicit dirty fingers of historical nick on the neck
marks of culture and spiritual brotherhood carnivalesque ordeals
knowledge taken for granted—laughter on the moors
sensitive readers: BEWARE THE MOORS !!!
naked and raw instinctive fears
woman storms….terrible female storms
hellhounds on the moors
hostile creatures from a Satanic stronghold
stereotype rocks and bushes squealing
hellish sneers, footed fiends ministering
poets become hunks of beef and mutton
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she said “take me to my stall, I am your whore”
was she saying that she was a horse and I should take her to her stall ?
why was she asking me questions when I was red hot and erect ?
I paid $5 American and I had a ticket and it was my turn
this woman was my immediate future, I could see her buoying my mass
I’m not drunk and I will perform like superman and make her orgasm
she will whisper silly rhymes in my ear
I will chew on her baby-doll hair
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Five pieces of road kill. A place called Boothby Pagnell. Stoke Rochford. Container drivers from all European States ferrying bananas. Men in suits in leather interior on their way back from power meetings. Boots full of golf clubs. Electric pylons are metal scarecrows. Driving through the land of sausages..
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I PURCHASED A PHOTOGRAPH OF A PENTHOUSE MODEL
TAKING A WHIZZ
BEHIND THE BOOTHBY PAGNELL MANOR HOUSE
DID YOU NOTICE HOW GREEN THE GROUND SEEMS ?
CONSTANT DUPLICATION AND REDUPLICATION
I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT POWER MEETINGS
OR LEATHER SUITS OR TIGER WOOD STICKS
PEOPLE ARE DIRT POOR IN KENTUCKY
HORSE HAS REPLACED BEEF
PETS ARE FAIR GAME
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YOU NEVER WRITE OF THE AGENTS OR CREATORS
THE ONES WHO PROCURE VARIOUS DELIGHTS
LABORING TO COVER THE SKY WITH SMOKE
A HUNDRED ITALIAN CIGARETTES ALL AT ONCE
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the wrong season for the sun
it’s to weak to warm this rock
something emerges from the soil which is frost white
smoke comes out of her mouth like a tiny dragon
the letters pile up –
your parents aren’t who they claim to be – actors in roles – paid by the week
a fat fucker eating a horse
as I go under the viaduct
get ready to shoot yourself
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not religious like stained glass
not religious
backward misinterpretation
westboro’ man gone the way of the Marlborough man gone the way of the dodo and pens
bitten by the snake that infiltrate the garden –
who made the trees?
who planted the seeds?
behind the fences
Yogi bear picnic thefts
a thousand cigarettes
labouring to cover the sky with smoke
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WILLIAM BURROUGHS TRYING TO WARM THE STONE
THAT LINGERING CRITIQUE OF SOILED WORDS
VAUDEVILLE SKITS IN YOUR SHORTS
FEMALES—DOLL-LIKE ATTENDANTS
DEPERSONALIZED POETRY
*taking a poop in a helicopter
POETS WITH ZIPPERS IN THEIR NECKS
AMUSEMENT ?
SO LARGE IRREGULAR WORDS LIKE LOBSTERS
COULD CRAWL OUT—IMAGINATIVE LIBERATION
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STAINED GLASS IS OFTEN STRAINED GLASS
RELIGIOUS WORDS SHOULD BE MOWED LIKE THE LAWN
YOU MENTION YOGI BEAR —YOUR PRIVATE ADDRESSEE ?
ONLY WHITE PEOPLE DO THE PICNIC THING
ONLY WHITE PEOPLE GO TO PARKS
ONLY WHITE PEOPLE POPULATE THE YOGI BEAR WORLD
ONLY WHITE PEOPLE SMOKE ITALIAN CIGARETTES
I AM TOO SELF-ABSORBED TO BE WHITE
SOMETIMES I AM ONLY AN EXPRESSION OF SOILED WORDS
WOMEN ERASE ME OFF THE SHOPPING LIST
I AM TOO EXPENSIVE OR OUT OF SEASON
I AM NOT WHITE ENOUGH TO ENTER INTO THE KINGDOM
ONE OF MY LESSER TOES GOES BY THE NAME, JUAN RAMON
WHEN HE FALLS OFF I JUST GLUE HIM BACK ON
A LESSER TOE WITH POETIC FAITH
A LESSER TOE IN THE CONTEXT OF A POET’S LIFE AND WORK
I ONCE GOT PAID TO COVER THE SKY WITH SMOKE
THERE WAS CRITICAL TERMINOLOGY ON THE GROUND
BOMBS OVERHEAD, ANGRY PLANES LOADED WITH EXPLOSIVES
I PUFFED LIKE SUPERMAN AND MADE THE SKY BLUE
YOUR MOTHER SENT ME A THANK-YOU CARD
YOUR FATHER WAS ALREADY BAT-FLAP CRAZY
A DADDY GOBLIN WITH NO ANTIDOTE
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—————————————————————————
TAKING A POOP IN A HELICOPTER
TRYING TO TAKE A POOP IN A HELICOPTER
( a long-necked poop…stretch the neck and drop the poop )
FRUIT FROM THE FRUIT-HOLE
SINISTER EROTICISM
WARM AND SENSUOUS
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prudent tourists in your family tree
selling family photographs
3 for $5 (phallic images $3)
awkward dongs—???
respective sexes and different species
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I’VE MENTIONED NONSENSE AND LIMERICKS
TALKED OF VOCABULARIES AND ALPHABETS
CONSTANT GEOGRAPHY, HISTORY
AND ANTHROPOLOGY
SUBCONSCIOUS PROMPTINGS
DONGS AND POVERTY
A NIGHT OUTSIDE KING’S BENCH PRISON
A FEW PLEASURES, HELLO KITTY PUSH PINS
A RESTLESS COMPASS, HUNGRY HOGS
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JOHNNY BOY IN A ONE-LEGGED RACE
DEMONIC POETS LINED UP
BRILLIANT WITH NEGATIVE GRANDEUR
RECTAL ITCH WITH DECAY
WHIMPERING
SABRE-TOOTH DRY LOGS
A THOUSAND PAINS ON EXIT
EACH TOUCHED BY PICASSO
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FAR FROM THE REAL WORLD
DEXTERITY IN THE MARRIAGE BED
LOVE FLUNG
IN PETER NORTH FASHION
POETIC FLYING SEQUENCES
LESSER MEN INFERIOR
SELDOM PENETRATE THE DEFENSES
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Vague recollection:
Inside the Curie house, nighttime, house creaking, settling down,
water in pipes
static build up
stroking her along her cold fuselage
reach for a book of prayers the pages are blank
the words are not there
the maze we walk a poets tightrope
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Johnny Boy the tripod
Three legs
smutty joke I know
But the truth is the truth
MM, what’s your nickname?
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THE VERY TEETH OF THE TIGHTROPE
A SIMPLE MONETARY EXCHANGE
OFTEN AN UGLY VERB
BEDROOM DIALOGUE WITH THE CLIENTELE
AN OPEN AREA WITH A MUSKY MUSTACHE
PREACHED BUT NOT PRACTICED
RIGOROUSLY, THE TONGUE THERE
3 OR 4 RAVAGED COMMANDMENTS
LOYALTY OATHS AMONG POETS
EVERY SANATORIUM HAS A “WORD” WARD
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WHAT DID YOU DO WITH THE MAP OF THE ESCAPE CRAWLWAY ?
WHO READS THE THERMOMETER ?
SODOMY IN NARROWING CIRCLES
FRENCH PEOPLE TRYING TO ADD THINGS UP
CONFUSED WITH SHIFTING NUMBERS
THEY JUST MAKE UP SUMS
BOWEL MOVEMENTS TO THE RIGHT AND TO THE LEFT
INORGANIC COMPONENTS IN A KURT VONNEGUT SKIN
ANGLO-SAXON NARRATIVE DUNG
TIGHT BOMB PATTERNS
HOMEMADE ITALIAN CIGARETTES
JARS OF LUNG FLUID
LIFE INSURANCE POLICIES
MULTIPLYING MICHAELS
STILL THORNIER AMUSEMENT WANTED
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the map was never written down
it was stored in the crawls spaces of the memory – a landscape I walked through daily without moving – the French are less then two hours away – with a strong wind you can smell them – a pleasant perfumed aroma drifts here
Vonnegut smoked a thousand cigarettes a day he was a chimney
a writer
a smokestack
he only smoked Pall Malls – his black lung juice swished and leaked from nostrils
I have all his books
I know all the words
P’tweet
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EVERY SANATORIUM HAS A “WORD” WARD
LOYALTY OATHS AMONG POETS
WELL-FED GUESTS AT A PARTY
THE POINT OF DEATH BEING THE EXIT
YOU KEPT TELLING ME THAT YOU LIVED YOUR LIFE
WERE YOU TRYING TO TRICK YOURSELF ? OR ME ?
IT IS TRUE YOUR FAMILY WAS IN SLEEPWALK
THEY WERE CONSTANTLY LOSING YOU
THEY DID NOT REALIZE YOUR VALUE
I ASKED THEM TO SPELL YOUR NAME
THEY COULD NOT
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ALL ARROWS SEEMED TO POINT THERE
THE ETERNAL FEMININE SPOT
HOLLOW WITH A TASTE OF COPPER
RATHER TOO TIGHT
EVERY VOYAGER’S PARADISE
——————-the hole of mystification (what’ll we do with the rest of the body ?)
healthy thoughts blocked by sexuality
nothing scholarly
repressed material uncovered
sexual unions somewhere
in the crib and the dog barking
too raw to be love
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GONADAL FACTORS WERE THE SUBJECT OF CONVERSATION
BIOCHEMICALS, SLICK OIL TO PERMIT PENETRATION
RACCOUS BARKS—–ROTATIONAL TOUCHING
PLEASURE INDICATES THE MOMENT
DELICIOUS HISSING
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a sharp edge to the sidewalk
your adulterous head cut
acceptances—rejections
all kinds of things leaking
the hospital may be too late
———————————————————-I’ll throw rocks at the crowd
———————————————————-I’ll take down your holiday decorations
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Yoko liked Norman’s mother
she was slightly bizarre
she tried to juggle John’s balls
some strange disease that mind rot
a beast that devours all
nothing saved
(Norman’s mother said that it took her three days to recall
how a cow’s backside twitched
with troublesome flies)
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we don’t call them sidewalks
we don’t use the words turnpike
earlier head wounds used as evidence for erratic behaviour, licking the spines of books,
tasting coins,
heavy metal satanic noise
pushing pins into skin till something gives,
rejection of dogma
never doing shoelaces up
the hospital was to late to far away
don’t you have to pay for everything medical? Isn’t it cheaper to let people die
over there?
take down the decorations
the happy season is CLOSED
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PEOPLE FROM THE GUGGENHEIM KEEP CALLING
THEY WANT OUR WORDS—OLD, NEW, OUR WONDEROUS WORDS
I DO NOT WANT THEM TO PERFORM EXPERIMENTS ON OUR LETTERS
INJECT CANCER CELLS OR DRANO IN THE EYESOCKETS OR AMPUTATE
MY SECRETARY KEEPS TAKING MESSAGES—MONEY IS NO OBJECT
I AM AFRAID YOU WILL START TAKING SEDATIVES OR GO SPIRITUAL
WHAT IF YOUR FREE VERSE BECOMES CONTROLLED ?
YOU START WRITING WHAT OTHERS WANT TO READ ?
IT SEEMS SO DIFFICULT TO SAVOR PROFESSIONAL RESPECT
WHEN YOU ARE LODGED IN THE BUGHOUSE, JOHNNY BOY
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RIGHT BEFORE THE END, EGG MAN WAS CONSTANTLY CROSSING THE MEXICAN BORDER
POETRY WITH BANDITS, SOILED WORDS SCATTERED THROUGHOUT HIS WORK
A FAIR FACILITY WITH WORDS WOULD GET YOU ADMISSION, POSSIBLY FRONT SEAT
IF YOU MADE REFERENCE TO THE CURIE HOUSE OR GEIGER COUNTERS OR RADIUM
THINKING FAST, SUDDEN INSPIRATION, THICKLY STAINED UNDERWEAR, THICKLY ?
IN MEXICO, POETRY IS OFTEN WRITTEN AT GUNPOINT, SHARP CUTLERY WILL DO
IMPROVISE AND GO FOR A GOOD DEEP STAB, A FINAL SHOWDOWN, TWIST THE BLADE
*in Mexico one can purchase a bandoleer with words instead of bullets
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POETS ARE ALWAYS SHORTER THAN THEIR READERS
BEHIND THE MASKS, HUNGRY EYES WANT TO READ
—————THEY ARE EXECUTIONERS———————
THE POET IS OFTEN AN INNOCENT CHILD
BOTH BOYS AND GIRLS WEAR OVER-SIZE TROUSERS
THE POET SPEAKS TO HIMSELF IN HASTE
THOUGHTS ARE NOT GOVERNED BY GRAVITY
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PILLOWS AT THE THRIFT STORE
ARE FULL OF ANXIETIES
RUSSIA’S NUCLEAR INTENTIONS
ARE AT OUR FRONT DOOR
POETS MIRRORING REALITY
JOHNNY BOY WITH HIS PUSH PINS
LOVE AND HATE STUCK ON TIGHT
IN FRANCE THEY CAN’T COUNT
PAST NINE
THEY MAKE-BELIEVE
THEY SMOKE ITALIAN CIGS
*double humiliation
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SCHOLARLY DETECTIVE WORK….AFRAID OF WORDS SPOKEN, WORDS WRITTEN
THE DRUMS AT NIGHT, THE SMELL OF THE BULLS, CHILDHOOD FEARS, NAUGHTINESS
PRODDED BY MEN AROUND THE BURNING OIL DRUM, EVERYONE BREATHING SMOKE
“WHAT THAT BE THAT CATCH ME UNAWARES ?”
PRAYING FOR AN OLD TESTAMENT HIGH
A PITCHFORK-TOTING BUZZ
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narrative knot in stomach house is on fire children are alone – (another line from a song) – the earth is a butchers block
we are meat
glass buildings I can see through
to the other side
following the sweeps and bends of the river following it into the heart
pumping millions of tonnes
…a current
…a pulse
I am reaching def con one
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ONE WOULD THINK THAT NARRATIVE KNOTS MIGHT BE WELCOME
NARRATIVE KNOTS IN THE ENGORGED VAGINAL VAULT
THE WIFE WITH HER ODD ANATOMICAL CONSTRUCTION
A PECULIAR UNSATISFIED LOOK ON HER FACE
FEAR THE CAPACITY TO ATTACH TO OTHERS
*a fear of abandonment is a terrible thing
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THE FIRE STARTED WITH THE EMOTIONAL MAPS
THE CHEMISTRY OF ATTACHMENT
GOT EXCITED
RELAXATION OF CONSTRAINTS
THERE WERE A FEW
WAIST-TO-HIP RATIO
IN THE FIRST PLACE
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HEAVY THOUGHTS TODAY ABOUT “OUTSIDE GERMS”
HOW TOUGH DO YOU HAVE TO BE TO EXIST OUTDOORS ?
WHEN ROMANCE ENDS, PEOPLE LAUGH AND CRY
YOKO HAS FALLEN FACE-FIRST IN THE AGING PROCESS
FAMILIAR NONSENSE-INVENTORS JACK THE POETRY
ISOLATED PEOPLE WRITE RIDICULOUS WORDS
THE DING-DING IS ON THE WAIST-TO-HIP RATIO FLOOR
TALKING TO A NURSERY RHYME AND SHOOTING A LOAD
ALL PETER NORTH LIKE, THE EGG MAN COMETH
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DID SOMEONE MENTION NARRATIVE KNOTS ?
GROUNDLESS IMAGINATIVE CONSTRUCTS
WHAT KNOWLEDGE LIVES INSIDE TEXTS ?
ISOLATED IN A SOLITARY PRISON
THE FINGERS YOU HAD
WHEN YOU WERE YOUNG
EVEN WITH POOR EYESIGHT
8000 PHOTOS WERE TAKEN
OF YOUR CHILD-LIKE FINGERS
NURSERY RHYME ADVENTURES
THIMBLES AND FORKS
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harassment from a ten minute lover
opportunities to attract
prayers for equal passion
SEX KITTENS IN EVERY TOWN
attracted to traits born and taught
a fast car and a pounding heart
identifying criminal potential
naked monkey behavior
reading eyes and faces
responding to the backside
flattened responses
the unwelcome bed
“I WANT TO STAND UP NOW”
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YOU WERE CAUGHT MEASURING ASYMMETRY
HOW DO YOU RECKON THE SYMMETRY OF WINGS ?
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COPULATIONS WITH THE HANDSOME AND THE BEAUTIFUL
SAMPLED ALL THE GIFTS, HUNDRED-DOLLAR BLOW
HARD MUSCLED AROUND THE BURNING DRUM
EVOLUTIONARY HISTORY STICKY LIKE JAM
THE BARBIES JUST GET BIGGER AND BETTER
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BIG RED WEAPONS JUST GET MORE ERECT
AROUND THE BURNING DRUM
THEY BOUNCE AROUND
BEING 100% CLEAN
IF I AM TO TOUCH A WEAPON
I WANT IT TO BE CLEAN
I WANT IT TO BE 100% CLEAN
NO FUNNY SMELLS
FUNNY SMELLS ARE FOR THE PUPS AND DOGS
HUNDRED-DOLLAR BLOW GOING FAST
STRONG MEN COLLAPSE UNDER IT
CUT WITH THE DUST OF HASSATAN
CUT WITH THE MIGHTY HINDSIGHT
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HUMPTY DUMPTY JUST FELT SO INCOMPLETE
YES, UNLIKE OTHER EGGS HIS SIZE
HE COULD GET PANTS THAT FIT
THERE WAS JUST SOMETHING
IN HIS LIFE
THAT WAS ELUDING
CLOSURE
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IN THE POST, THEY SAID THAT THE EGG MAN
WAS NO MORE THAN A SHELL, A YOLK,
AND A HANK OF HAIR
JUST BAGGAGE LEFT BEHIND
IN THE LAST DAYS
HIS PREOCCUPATION
WITH PSEUDO-STABILITY
QUICKENED
* was he the poster boy for reincarnation ?
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PHOTOGRAPHIC MEMORIES STASHED AWAY IN A PRIVATE ZONE
A PLACE THAT MIGHT GET YOU A BROKEN ARM
A FLASHLIGHT BEAM ON “AUTOTELIC JOY”
POETIC COUNTERFEITERS ARE LIMITED
TELEPHOTO ROMANCE IS NEVER IN FOCUS
TOURISTS IN HIBISCUS SHIRTS
USE THEIR URINE TO EXPOSE THEMSELVES
CINEMATIC VIEWS AT THE RESTSTOP
AT STARBUCKS YOU RECALL
THE GUY WITH THE BANANA SHIRT
GOD BLESSED HIM WITH A WEAPON
YOU STARE AT HIS WIFE
LOTS OF LUBE AND AEROBICS
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the skin hangs the shell cracked the insides splashed the outside – he was reincarnated as scrabbled egg – dolloped on toast –
a sad end for a life that promised so much – the egg man – oval
shiny
each year they reenact the fall
HIS FALL
children dress as eggs and sit of walls – costumed bystanders push them off –
it was never meant to be this way
cut down in his prime
His poster boy looks are just that
now, looks on a poster
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INEXTRICABLE MINGLING OF FANTASY AND REALITY
SPECTATORS TO POETRY—MACHINE-MADE POETRY
VIRILE YOUNG MEN MAKING BULL NOISES
PRYING EYES—DETECTIVES WITH WHAT SEEMS LIKE SPIDER EYES
SYPHILITIC DREGS IN THE BOTTOM OF THE COFFEE CUP
JESUS WITH A WOODEN LEG, A BEGGAR WITH NO EMPLOYMENT
KNOCKS ON THE FRONT DOOR FROM EROTICISM
WARP AND WOOF……DARK ABSURDITIES
THE POET GOAT FALLS OFF THE POEM
MACHINES GET BORED PRODUCING POETRY
POETRY THAT ONLY RECOLLECTS THE PAST
POETRY THAT ONLY ANTICIPATES THE FUTURE
HOW DEEP DO YOU BURY THE CORPSE ?
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QUICK—TELL ME HOW THE POET GOAT FALLS OFF THE POEM
THAT MACHINE THAT MAKES SPONTANEOUS POETRY
IS BORED AND IS THINKING ABOUT CROSSWORD PUZZLES
IS BORED AND IS THINKING ABOUT RUSSIAN PSYCHOLOGY
WHAT IF JESUS HAD COME DOWN AND SAVED NATIVE AMERICANS FROM A TERRIBLE FATE ?
WOULD YOU BECOME A REAL CHRISTIAN AND MOVE TO TAHITI TO PAINT LANDSCAPES ?
ALL I CAN SAY IS THE POETRY MAKING MACHINE IS HAVING INTERCOURSE WITH ITSELF
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calculators are machines that work only if you put the right numbers in and press the right buttons
the poetry machine is the same – worthless if you put rubbish in –
shit in
shit out
weak poets scan crosswords
absorb newspaper print and put two and three together – proud at something someone else has created – a yard full of bricks is just bricks (etc etc)
I’m going to build a house of words and remind myself I’ll never be a Christian here
or in Tahiti
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IN FRANCE THEY DON’T PUT NUMBERS
ON CALCULATOR BUTTONS
LIKE LIFE, IT IS ANYONE’S GUESS
YOU ARE WRONG
ABOUT THE POETRY MACHINE
EVERYTHING IS RUBBISH
NOTHING HAS WORTH
POETS OFTEN LEAK PEE
DAMP ANKLE POETRY
JUST ASK EMILY
*with just a few well-chosen words, Emily could afford to pay someone to dry her ankles
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The poetry machine breaches all EU regulations – armed militia will be sent to round them up – they will be dismantled as a warning – POETRY IS HUMAN IT DOESNT NEED WIRES –
underground groups
friends of the avant gard
Beat poets in berets (the jazz baby) will hide them in crumbling French chateaus –
pissing themselves in fear they head to the woods
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THE SOFT MURMURING OF COMMON SENSE
YES, EVEN IN SOUTHERN FLORIDA
AN OCCASIONAL BREEZE
(are we lucky the LORD remains so silent ?)
IN FEAR THEY HEAD TO THE WOODS
SCRIPTWRITING PUTS THEM IN CAVES
SUBTERRANEAN POLITIC SILENCE
NO DRUMS AT NIGHT, EMPTY SOUNDING
SMOKE IS LETHAL TO WATCHING EYES
———————————————————
POETRY IS BEYOND DOLLAR STORE MISFITS
IT HAS VERY LITTLE TO DO
WITH A STICKY
WANTING TO APPROVE
OR DISAPPROVE
POETRY IS A GERM
THAT STEPS ON BLINDNESS
AND DEAFNESS
A TRUE JAPANESE
PEARL HARBOR
TEA PARTY
—————
THE POETRY WRITING MACHINE MAY BE A FORBIDDEN TOPIC
POETS SEEM TO BE FEELING A SENSE OF EMERGENCY
MACHINES BECOMING THE EARS AND EYES OF SOCIETY
HARDENED DEFENSIVENESS, EXPLICATIONS OF MYSTICISM
THE SAME PEOPLE WHO BAD MOUTH THE POETRY MACHINES
CONSUME FISH GROWN IN THAILAND AND VIETNAM
FISH FED WITH HUMAN IDENTIFICATION
DALIESQUE FISH BLIND FROM TOXINS
ANONYMOUS PINK TUMORS
EASILY REMOVED
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I SAW YELLOW FLAGS TAPED TO YOUR BUTT-WIPING HAND
ROMANTICIZED RESTLESSNESS AS CURTAINS AROUND YOUR BED
PARALYZED BIRDS TOO LAZY TO CHIRP OR DRIBBLE NOSTALGIA
SURVIVE BUT AT WHAT EXPENSE ?
ONCE A YEAR, CAKE FROM A CURIO SHOP
FIREHOUSE RED ON MUTE, SWIVEL-HEADED
CRAFTY AT OBJECTIFING OBSESSIONS
SHE WAS TEASING EVERYONE WITH THOSE LEOTARDS
HER PART WAS PINK, A REAL SPECTACLE
RAW VOYEUR MEAT IN LEOTARDS
THE PINK PART CAN BE PULLED APART
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pistol whipped thirteen angles –
the whole thing was on mute – objectify the object – move the obelisk
this THING
this monolith
brass knuckles and hissy fits
chirping birds nailed to branches so the breeze can’t blow them down – flesh coloured suits handed out at with good stamps –
the Kentuckians converged at the centre of town to discuss recent voueyers and their victims – hands raised votes passed
a rigged jury
witness tampered with in the most sexy ways
it always happens
but never to me
I like the meat to be rare, red middle
slightly bloody
something to chew on (metaphorically speaking)
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MEAT IN BLACK PATENT-LEATHER SHOES
HIGHBROW PROSTITUTION
WHIMSICAL SURPRISES
WHITE DIALOGUE
JAMES BOND WAS NEVER CONTAMINATED WITH RELIGION
A SOURCE OF LIFE’S UNHAPPINESS—HE PASSED IT BY AT 90 mph
HIS LIPS WOULD NOT TOUCH THE BREAD OF HEAVEN
HE WAS UNFINISHED AND HE WANTED TO STAY THAT WAY
THE ORCHESTRA CAN BE ONE MAN SHORT
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toward the crowning of the love fest
saintlike in their clean healthy organs
no compromise was necessary
the empty room was full
train whistles for the blow
a celebrated instance
the brink of expression
the poetry machine
was in another room
viewing a Picasso painting
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POETRY IN FRAGMENTS SMALLER THAN A SENTENCE
CHUNKS FROM THE VOMIT OF LITERARY LANGUAGE
BITS OF ROCK SONGS, ADVERTISING JINGLES
TELEVISION SLANG AND POOL-HALL OBSCENITIES
A FEW WERE WRITTEN ON BATHROOM WALLS
A BLIND MAN MONOLOGIZING
ON THE ROOF COMPLAINING
ABOUT THE BASEMENT
THE LACK OF THOUGHT
LESS THAN THE LACK
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the archeologists in years to come will dig up the words –
buried beneath buildings, lost in post apocalyptic rubble, inside coffins amongst decomposition –
gathered fragments –
brushing dust off with tiny brushes re-arranging them
but they make no sense –
jazz club language
prison cell lexicon
the lingua franca of yesterday’s hustlers
do dogs always return to their vomit?
do prisoners always return to the scene of their crime?
Is that why you have been seen in the bushes by the Curie house?
she lurked behind the monoliths hidden in your basements
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SEEN IN A CURIE HOUSE BUSH !!!
———–ASTONISHING——————-
I CAN TRANSPORT A GIANT SCULTURE BY RODCHENKO
THROUGH HUNDREDS OF PEOPLE IN AN AIRPORT
AND NOT GET NOTICED
HIDE BEHIND A BUSH FOR 90 MINUTES
SPYING ON THE SHAPER OF SHAPES
AND I TURN UP ON WORDPRESS
ON A MONDAY EVENING
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WAS I DISCOVERING PLEASURE IN ANOTHER MAN’S YARD ?
BEHIND A SHRUB RUBBING MEMBRANES
TRYING TO MAKE THE PAST
ERUPT INTO THE PRESENT
HARD TO FORGET THAT CURIE BUSH SMELL
THE FOUR DIRECTIONS OF MUSK
“BOSSMAN, I DONE WADED PAST THE PILLOWS”
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MM on the six o’clock news – mugshot profile – a bush (well maintained), foliage,
newsreader has a hole in her face which flap flap flaps – hair like spider legs,
scrolling news says something about things –
a map
a factory
a discovery
the grave of snakebite Mike
crushed tiny pony
desertion from his post at Leviathan Corps – accusations from the Otis men – A CAPITAL CRIME –
junk yard dogs with eyes of doom
photography is forbidden
at the edge of the lands geography
he waded past the breakers
he waded out till his legs couldn’t touch the Earth
floating
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TEARS CAME TO MY EYES AS I READ ABOUT SNAKEBITE MIKE
YOU FAILED TO MENTION THAT 47 LIFEBOATS
SURROUNDED HIS GRAVE IN A RESCUE OPERATION
IT IS TRUE THAT THE DEAD CAN RETURN TO LIFE
THE TARPAULIN OF DEATH IS NOT FINAL
THE ENORMOUS ROUND EYE OF LIFE
WARMS SOUTHERN FLORIDA
BOWLS OF SOUP FOR BREAKFAST
SYNCOPATED RHYTHM
GEOMETRIC PURITY
ON A SAD NOTE
THE CRUSHED PONY
COULD NOT BE RE-INFLATED
IT WILL SOON BE ANONYMOUS BAIT
SOLD TO TOURISTS WITH BACON BREATH
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THE NAILS IN THE SPINE OF SNAKEBITE MIKE WILL NOT RUST
ANY AND ALL USED SOIL HAS BEEN WASHED CLEAN
THE URGE THAT CAUSED HIM TO ESCAPE THE FACTORY
HAS NOW PUSHED HIM TO KISS RAINBOWS
AND GENTLY TOUCH BUTTERFLIES
EVEN SUPERILLUSIONISTIC LIFE
IS BETTER THAN NO LIFE
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YOUNG MEN WATCHED THE WOMAN ON THE CIRCUS TIGHTROPE
WHAT WOULD IT BE LIKE TO HAVE HER ON THE BACK OF A MOTORCYCLE
HOLDING ON TIGHTER THAN ANY WOMAN IN HISTORY ?
LEAKING SEMEN IN A HEIGHTENED SENSE OF REALITY
THEY COULD HEAR HER MOIST TISSUES CALLING
LOVE WAS PURELY A MATHEMATICAL MATTER
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the tourists don’t want to experience what life is really like in new places – they just want to be aware from where they were –
over soul breakfasts they mutter “it’s not as good as home”
they read the local news
point at road signs
finger new currency
they read about a car crash
and are know they’ll be away from there real soon
all tourists come free with a camera
—
in the rented room
the explosion threw her out of her reverie – curled up
tangled in amongst
sweaty bed sheets
a map of famous murder spots is open and sites circled
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POSTERS ON THE WALL OF BURNING TOMATO WORMS
POETRY ABOUT TONGUES THROWN IN A MASS GRAVE
IT WOULD HAVE TAKEN TOO LONG TO BIND THEM
EACH TONGUE A CONTRADICTION
MODERN THOUGHT
AN UNFORGIVABLE BLASPHEMY
CONSTANT TRANSGRESSING
GERMS, SUFFERING MOTIFS
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the fork tongue, fat tongue a the slip of the tongue explores dark recesses – have no fear – we are sanitised and clean here – the core has been removed
badness expunged – it’s all gone
the ghosts have left the scene
exorcised themselves & moved to a cave in Kentucky – maybe,
renting a flophouse flea pit in back street Florida – hustling tourists confused by the exchange rate –
brain wobbling in new time zones – jet lagged
part of yesterday has seeped into day – confused by municipal street signs
a church on every corner –
a never ending sidewalk that stretches coast to wet coast –
the madman sided up to me, walking an invisible dog that was baking
mass graves discovered in forests in the town where everyone is a failed actor where trap doors are hidden
ALL EXITS
NEED TO BE
DISCOVERED
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SUNDAY SCHOOL THOUGHT:
GOOD THINGS IN THE WORST OF TASTE
———–HIGH-WAISTED PANTS————-
YOU CALLED HIM A MADMAN
HE WAS JUST ABSENTMINDED
THE DOG WAS SAFE AT HOME
THE OVEN WAS UNPLUGGED
YOU WERE SECRETLY COUNTING HIS FOOTSTEPS
SYMPTOMS OF A DEEP DETACHMENT
WHY DID THEY TAKE YOUR CRAYONS ?
YOU WERE CONSTANTLY CONFUSED
ABOUT THE PURPOSE OF THE DRAWING-ROOM
YOU WAVED GOODBYE YEARS AGO
FIRST LOVE AND REAL LOVE
THE STRENGTH OF YOUR SENSUALITY
BORED WITH YOUR HAND
ANTI-POETIC ESCAPE
*I remember when Father came into the kitchen
with a tongue wrapped in a cloth and you had
to have a look (growth, destructive growth)
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AT THE AGE OF 12, YOU BECAME AN INGENIOUS SURGEON OF LITERATURE
YOU TOLD ME, “DISSATISFACTION IS DIRECTIONLESS”
ALL THESE YEARS AND FLOODS LATER AND I STILL THINK OF THOSE WORDS
YOU CARRIED THAT POCKET COMPASS EVERYWHERE YOU WENT
KNOWING WHICH WAY WAS NORTH WAS SO IMPORTANT
YOU HAD DREAMS OF A LAND WITHOUT LANGUAGE
A PLACE THAT WAS NOT CROWDED WITH UGLINESS
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when I was 12 me and my brother fleeting he moon in a cardboard spaceship – a steak knife hidden down a tube sock – father said these are your salad days – they will rot black and be eaten by worms –
so will your body – rotten worms eat through microbes rot through the skin an the pockets of your favourite suit –
pocket watch stops
North was always up and south down
I come from an island with language an island outlined and crowned
childhood surgery and sine tomfoolery
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POETS STANDING IN THE DARKENING SHADOWS
EACH HOPING MAINSTREAM READERS
WILL IDENTIFY WITH THEIR THOUGHTS
THEIR PROMISCUOUS WORDS
THE POETRY EPIDEMIC GOES UNSPOKEN
WORDPRESS PERMITS ONE
TO OVERSTAY THEIR WELCOME
THE BRIGHT FLASHLIGHT OF REALITY
“WAKE UP, IT IS TIME TO GO ”
ONE WOULD EXPECT AN OPERATIC CONFRONTATION
AT BEST RANDOM SHOTS AND A BODY COUNT
SCATHING WIT AND CYNICISM HAVE BEEN PICKED UP
AND DISCARDED LIKE POODLE DROPPINGS
MAYA ANGELOU IS IN A DUMPSTER BEHIND THE GUGGENHEIM
HER SAUSAGE HAS BEEN COOKED, THE HAIR WORN OFF
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words never get stale but people can overstay their welcome –
like a fart in a lift –
a turd in a swimming pool – floating flotsam
better to get your coat and leave –
rather to have killers out in the open than ones lurking in shadows, the only light being from the moon and the glistening blade – eyes glued on victims necks
the main stream is jam packed fit to burst – all rivers need tributaries – all things needs outlets – otherwise things burst
the bread goes stale ad who wants crumbs harder than rock?
**in tom and jerry cartoons you owner say their owners legs – she always bellowed THOMAS at the top of her voice – that was Maya Angelou before her writing took off
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MAYA ANGELOU IS ENVELOPED IN FLAMES
SHE IS INVISIBLE TO ONLOOKERS
WHEN I THINK OF HER I START TO SWEAT
HER TONGUE OF FIRE IS SPITTING POETRY
IT MAY BE FLARF OR WORSE
ANGER OVER THE LACK OF FAME
IN HER NEW WORLD
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PEOPLE SAY THAT I AM A WITCH
AND YET WITCHES TRY TO BURN ME
I AM MORE THAN JUST AN ORGANIC GROWTH
MORE THAN FRAGMENTS OR JISM FROM CHAOS
SYMBOLS SUGGESTIVE OF DEATH AND THE GRAVE
ALL AROUND ME, FILTHY HAGS AND BIKERS ON METH
VORACIOUS, RAVENOUS, POISONOUS HUMAN NATURE
NAKED ANIMALS ON PARADE, SO MANY FAILED THE TEST
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THE HAND UPON THE GRAVE IS NOT THE HAND INSIDE THE GRAVE
MARRIED TO A MAN WHO IS DRY OF BLOOD, THE RED GONE
MISADVENTURES AND NOW YOU RIDE THE BUS
BUSTED DAYDREAMS YOU LEAVE OUTSIDE
GOD MAY REVERSE THE PARTS
MISERIES ROOTED IN THE VICINITY
NO RESCUE FROM THE NIGHTLY STABS
SOFT NUMBERS EXPLODE IN CURIOUS PASSAGE
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WOMBLIKE ENCLOSURES FOR POETS LIVING IN THE WOODS
SOBBING AT NIGHT WITH INSECT BITES AND TUMMY GAS
DANGEROUS TEMPTATIONS, INFANTILE GRATIFICATION
TICKETS FROM AN AGENCY SLICK WITH SLOBBER
VITAL, EMOTIONALLY MEANINGFUL FLUID
SLEEPING IN A MOSSY CAVE
PINK SEXUAL OVERTONES
EXPRESSED IN EMBRACE
A LITTLE TIGHT AT FIRST
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SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE
————————————————————————————————
————————————————————————————————
SHE WANTS THE THRUST, THE REALLY BIG THRUST
YOUR IDENTICAL TWIN SNEEKS IN LATE AT NIGHT
AND GIVES HER THE THRUST OF HER LIFE
PAST YOUR MARK, UP INTO THE UNKNOWN
THE FRICTION OF THE GIRTH WAS TOO MUCH
MOVING MORE AND MORE SAVAGELY
AT TIMES SHE WAS HUNG SUSPENDED ABOVE THE BED
HER PASSIONATE OUTCRY WAS ALARMING EVEN TO HERSELF
REALITY WAS FRAGMENTS FROM NOVELS SHE HAD READ
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YOU SAY THAT YOU SAW THE IVORY LEG SPLINTER
AHAB IN NEED OF A BONE TO STAND ON
AMONG POETS WORKING TODAY
WHO COULD FASHION A LEG OF WOOD ?
WISTFUL LONGINGS OR FAILED CONNECTIONS, YES
IMPOVERISHED INTELLECTUAL VOCABULARY
THE POET IN THE GRAVEYARD ASKING FORGIVENESS
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I’m not a word magician pulling words from a magic hat – meta fiction matted in rabbit fur –
a machine gun sentence staccato noise jack boot marching to hell – waiting for the saviour
waiting for the answer
she comes to me in stereo
she comes to me through the window
we all need a womb to retreat to – I was inside my mother once – but I’m outside now
with a beard and fingerless gloves – infatuated with the girl from the island – dark overtones of a sexual natures – the possibility is a fumble behind the saloon doors – the ends justify the path chosen –
heavy foot – the tickets to the show are in the post –
strangers new in town are persuaded to see the shadow show at the caves –
squeezed in a tight gap
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my twin went in but left tell tale skins of a haunting – something you couldn’t forget but couldn’t say if it every happened – something special
something spectral
the gauntlet was thrown down
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NO STRANGER TO TAKING PHOTOGRAPHS OF THE EASTER BASKET
THE SCOPE OF IMAGINATION WAS EXPLORED THIS MORNING
TAKING PHOTOS OF CHARLIE ZERO AND HIS “ARGONAUTS”
THERE MUST BE VERIFICATION OF HYGIENE
I DO NOT TOUCH ANYTHING OR SMELL ANYTHING
NO EXCHANGE OF INFORMATION OR FLUID
EXTRA-ARTISTIC IMPULSES ARE EXCLUDED
CHARLIE REPORTED THAT AS A POET
HE WAS ALSO A HISTORICAL ACTOR
THAT HE WAS NOT EXEMPT
FROM THE TRAGEDY OF HIS WORDS
HE SEEMED TO HAVE A FIRM GRIP
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he wasn’t a reporter
he couldn’t be – nothing he said was true – it was all someone else’s stuff – reassembled into something’s not as good – fingerprints were left but powder trails flowed into powder burns – scorched singed argonauts on their boats as the island of ideas and trees gets smaller through the lense of the telescope –
we share the same opinion and carry them steady
his form grip will be weakened with lube
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THE NATIVES WERE COOKING SOUP
UNDULATING LIMBS AND BODY TRUNKS
GENITALIA OF ALL SIZES
IN BOILING WATER
DEATH
BEING THE ULTIMATE NAKEDNESS
WAS IT AN APPROPRIATE FORMAT
FOR EXPERIENCING POETRY ?
WAS IT POETRY ?
THE LANDSCAPE POLLUTED WITH WORDS
SOME OF THE LETTERS
CAME DIRECTLY FROM PARIS
I HAVE MIXED FEELINGS
ABOUT THINGS FROM FRANCE
REGULAR PERCUSSIVE RHYTHM
IS OKAY
DISJOINTED RUSSIAN JAZZ
NOT SO MUCH
————————————————————–
————————————————————–
EXTERNAL OBJECTS
DOLL BABY FACES
ENDOWED WITH LIFE
RELIGIOUS VENTRILOQUIST
GOING TO TOWN
HEAVEN COMES IN DIFFERENT SIZES
LOVE IN VARIOUS AMOUNTS
EACH FACE MARKED AN EPISODE
IN AN UNHAPPY STORY
YOU WERE TOUCHING
THE MATHEMATICAL STRUCTURE
YOU WANTED TO MILK IT
INTELLECTUALLY ASTRINGENT
THE TASTE OF UNDERWEAR EDGE
WORN BY NIJINSKY
I SAID, “NO THANKS”
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I LOOKED IN THE KETTLE AND THERE WAS GERTRUDE STEIN
COOKING WITH THE LIMBS AND BODY PARTS
OUR BELOVED SISTER, GERTRUDE
LATE NIGHT TELEVISION AND GOSSIP
CRAZY SEX DRIVES
HER VULVA
LIT BY A LANTERN
LATE AT NIGHT IN THE OUTDOORS
CRUDE SEX BALLET ON MY MIND
ORNAMENTAL JISM ON THE TIP
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YOU ARE OUTSIDE WITH A BEARD AND FINGERLESS GLOVES
ABANDONED EARLY ON BY AN IMAGINARY FATHER
A HUMAN WHO PLACED POETRY UNDER A DOG SQUAT
MEANINGFUL RELATIONSHIPS WITH A PHILOSOPHER
BOY DOLLS IN A DOLLHOUSE—DENSE FEMININITY
POMPOUS RESTRICTED TO RIDICULOUS THINGS
*you got a squirrel for a Christmas gift
*you asked for something with hair for your nuts
*something that had a lot of energy
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a sense of not belonging – a boy in dress –
repressed frills dirty hem
– white knuckle fist
– the proximity to meaningless things
– the dollhouse was burgled by bad me in face masks – like something seen on TV –
– all aspects of live temporarily cease for adverts of shampoo, dog food, cars, – the hierarchy of needs not meet by human contact
– relationships all going south
– a man in Kentucky thought a Vulva was the name of a Swedish car on
game shows he’ll never win
fate wears a monkey glove
course hair tickled the balls of history
**i knew a philosopher once. Never wore socks.
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normans mother was out of time – Victorian values – table leg arousal – – sunbathing on Florida beaches buttoned up no flesh on show – Norman would rub sun tan lotion on her course garments – and disappear waist high into the sea to hide obvious signs of arousal –
it wouldn’t have been like this of ones French he always muttered but this was no consolation –
the numbers never adde up
– Gaelic foundation weakens the chateau
*poor Norman and his great greasy hands
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EVERY POEM SHOULD START WITH THE LINE
“SHE PULLED A FROCK OVER HER HEAD”
FEMALES AS ORNAMENTAL INSECTS
EACH A HOSTESS OF THEIR DOLLHOUSE
THE MADAME OF THE BEDROOM
LIKE A BUTTERFLY SPREAD
TALK-SHOW FREUD
DADDY COME HOME
WILL FATHER CULTIVATE ?
ONE MORE “NO” TO THE MUSEUM
IRRELEVANT MACHINES WITH NO SCIENCE
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GERTRUDE STEIN PISSED IN THE TANNING BED AND IT EXPLODED
IT WAS SO ANCIENT THAT IT HAD A PROPELLER
“ME TANNING BED HAD A PROPELLER”
YELLOW PHILOSOPHICAL URINE
COMPETITION-GRADE EMILY DICKINSON
AESTHETICALLY DISTINCTIVE
KIDNEY JUICE
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morning stench creeps up on the afternoon
soaking up through the hours –
like paper held in water –
your finger tips will get wet
in time –
it absorbs and absorbs and absorbs
fat slug bloated on blood
a sausage spitting in the pan
everywhere metaphors
(lyrics say**)gymnastic whore down on all all four
**british sea power
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machines shouldn’t be involved In poetry –
this is a human endeavour
skirt over head
pants around ankles
Oh my captain
pull the plug and watch it power down
Johnny boy first person
in third person perspective
sunset with the trumpets
Russian jazz In in warm climates sea towns –
it burns going down
my friends think the words are strange and they don’t understand they don’t get it
foot
snaps a branch in
am empty forest –
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JOHNNY BOY IN FIRST PERSON IN GEOGRAPHY
THIRD PERSON PERSPECTIVE FROM OUTER SPACE
HABITUAL SELF IS OLD HAT
POETRY SO OFTEN OVERDETERMINED
CAN ONE EVER UNGLUE THE FIXED POETIC IDENTITY ?
——-I REFUSE TO TASTE THE SADNESS————
DAILY NECESSITY FIRST
MISINTERPRETED WORDS
HUMAN PASSION/EROTIC DESIRES IN A FOLDER
DEGRADATION AND SOLITUDE
SHE SELLS SELF-RENEWING
ONLY TO NEVER RENEW
STARK OPPOSITION
THE PLAYGROUND A BATTLEFIELD
A SCULPTURE IN THE BEDROOM MUSEUM
EMBARRASSINGLY MISSING ARMS
WITH A FIXED SMILE
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EMBARRASSINGLY MISSING ARMS
WITH A FIXED SMILE
LADY MID-ADULTHOOD
JOHNNY BOY AND NEAR-FORGOTTEN WORDS
TAUT, RAW, STRETCHED, ALMOST NEW, SOMETHING IT WASN’T BEFORE
REVERBERATIONS IN THE BEDROOM, EXPLORATORY VIOLENCE
THE WORST POVERTY SLEEPS INSIDE THE SKULL
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THE DOLLHOUSE IS FULL OF IMAGISTIC POETS
OFTEN SLANDEROUS WORDS ARE LEAKED ON THE PILLOW
WORDS OR MUTILATED BODY PARTS ?
EVERYONE WANTS TO BE THE KING OF CURE
THERE IS NO CURE !!! ONLY SILENCE AND STRONG WITCHCRAFT
YOU HAVE A CORPSE GLUED TO YOU
WITH THE SALIVA OF A MYSTERIOUS FORCE
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SEVERAL TIMES YOU PULLED OUT THE POCKETKNIFE
IN YOUTH YOU STABBED A THOUSAND FOES
LATER IN LIFE YOU USED IT ON YOURSELF
FAREWELL TENEMENT OF BODY
THE HOWLING MONSTER WAITS
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the pocket knife from the knife pocket from the foundry –
just another piece of cutlery –
the opposable thumb and the knife separates us from the savages –
we are the only species that can kill at a distance and we can’t draw perfect circles
criss cross nazca lines scarred her arm like the desert landscape
remember to wear your hard hat when you leave, the bodies are still falling like cannonballs
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AN ANSWERABLE PRESENCE, YOU PULLED OUT THAT DAMN POCKETKNIFE
HEARING AND BEING HEARD WAS EVERYTHING, REALITY A BLUR
SIGNS OF INTERCOURSE ON THE GROUND, WAS IT A VICTORY ?
DESCRIPTIVENESS IS A SIMPLE RAPE, POETS AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL
A WAREHOUSE OF GRATIFICATIONS, I WANT SOMETHING ELSE
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grandfathers who spent World War Two sweating in tanks –
mine walked on holy land and slept inside pyramids –
daily life spent waiting for death – beats the shit out of playing computer games – n the bodies pile one was fat in them days
in peace time and during war –
death is part of life
naked bodies or fully clothed eyes closed eyes open – (they saw things that haunt them)
try and measure time in a dark room –
Emily
Yoko
Joan
looked like backing singers in satan a house band –
the janitor walks through the factory at night, following the beam of the torch,
touching the dead machinery thinking about pivotal days in his childhood that brought him here,
that made him do those things
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– autobiographical writings –
office as a modern day trench warfare –
stuck between the mortar fire of spreadsheets & power talk –
three angels on my shoulder
– knife scars on jazz hands
– her body is a tenement block
dark corridors explored under moonlight –
– I’ve blown away the cobwebs
– caught between a rock and a harder place –
– we were at the edge of this land staring towards continents over there
– all our emotions are pending
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THE MEN WHO SWEATED IN TANKS DURING THE WORLD WAR
HAVE HAD ALL THE SYLLABLES REMOVED FROM THEIR NAMES
ONE CAN NO LONGER PRONOUNCE THEIR FIRST OR LAST NAME
TRIVIAL, FRAGMENTARY, IGNORED, LONG-DEAD AND GONE
CORPSES STUFFED WITH POISONS—DIARIES BURIED UNDERGROUND
YEARS OF EDUCATION AND ROMANTIC DOLLS, PESSIMISM AND DEFEAT
CHILDISH INFATUATIONS, FACES REFLECTING CANDLES BURNING
HOW CAN I WASH THE GERMS OFF MY POETRY ?
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they found the foot
27 claims upon it – get the lawyers involved,
on TV war torn rubble always has a babies shoe on top of it –
heart strings tugged –
an orchestra of emotion
– salty tears lost in the sea
THIS MAY CONTAIN SCENES VIEWERS MAY FIND DISTURBING
THIS MAY CONTAIN NUTS
15miles behind enemy lines
crawling through diaries with missing pages, knee deep in emotions of others
wading through the mud of words
when it all started it was fun and optimism coursed through ,
it’ll all be over be Christmas but no year was offers up,
meat ran low and a letter arrived, late, fingerprinted in foreign hues, “the only way to keep the poetry germ free is to burn it clean”
me and her
trapped between barbed wire, in the mud
honey
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IMPROMPTU CONVERSATION WITH MRS JOHNNY
UPPER THIGH KAYAK, WAS IT ME OR YOU ?
GUTSY GIRL—HOWLING OBSCENITIES
POETRY WITH BOWEL TROUBLES LEAKED ON MOTEL SPREADS
OF BEING PUSHED BY AN IMPULSE, RELENTLESS PRESSURE
DOMESTIC BONDAGE FROM CHIT-CHAT AND NOT FORCE
*bums and con artists ran to other towns
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POETRY BECOMES VULGAR PRATTLE ABOUT DOMESTIC ARRANGEMENTS
YOU WERE INSIDE YOUR WIFE’S KAYAK, ALL PROUD AND LUBED UP
THERE WAS AN EXTERNALIZED QUALITY TO YOUR PENETRATION
I WAVED AND LEFT YOU TO ENJOY YOUR FLOAT
UNDERSTANDABLY, THE LITTLE LADY WAS RELUCTANT
HER INNER LIFE AND PERSONAL DESIRES WERE PRIVATE
AS A CHILD SHE WAS BEATEN WITH A BELT
TAUGHT TO BE RESPECTABLE
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HOW MANY SECRETS CAN A PERSON HAVE ?
THE DRUMS AT NIGHT NEVER SPEAK
OF SOLITUDE OR SILENCE
UNPUBLISHED BUT NOT VOICELESS
I SCREAM OUT MY PRIVATE LIFE
MY SECRETS HAVE A SUNBURN
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THE LADY IN THE KAYAK
NOT EASILY UNTANGLED
OR EXPLAINED AWAY
MUDDY SOUL AT BEST
YEARS OF TALKING SELF
EACH DAY SHE SAID
“YOU ARE YOU”
MASOCHISTIC HUSBAND
SHE TOLD HER FRIEND
NO MATTER HOW MUCH HE HURTS
HE LOVES HIS MOMMY
SUBMISSION IS KING
HE SLEEPS BESIDE THE BED
THE EROTIC ANIMALS
IN HIS CIRCUS
ESCAPED
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WHEN I TRIED TO HOLD YOUR HAND
YOU TOLD ME THAT IT WAS NO GO
THAT THE EROTIC ANIMALS
IN YOUR CIRCUS
ESCAPED
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always staying alert
constantly moving
not wanting to be of service
I am not a candle
to light the darkness
no desire to link up
no desire to nudge others
living in loneliness
the windows boarded up
one astrological door
no normalcy on either side
*extra or transitional vertebrae ?
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went to the cinema to see the film of my life –
I wasn’t in it but the scenery was nice – I wanted a refunded
but nothing was forthcoming
once
as a young child
I laughed so hard
I pissed myself
warm joy & rapture
– soon there will be no left who hasn’t got a tattoo –
– soon there let will be no one left
the world will run out of ink
– dogs bark in the shadow of blue bulls
the candle is alight but the wind will destroy the light
Stuck in the middle of normalcy Normans mother removes the fifth far of Joan
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I saw the film of your life —very odd, you were absent
so much reliance on other people
and secondhand information
good lord, other people were saying your lines
the honeymoon night scene made my blood pressure soar
everything seemed so transparent
I was seeing thru walls and bodies and ideas
relatives in the family were stooges
unfamiliar faces, disagreeable voices
your brother was a cardshark with insults
I put a mental barbed-wire fence around him
it was your life story not his
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TO BE ABSENT FROM A FILM ABOUT YOUR LIFE
WERE YOU TERRIFIED OF THE QUESTIONS ?
THE ANSWERS ?
A PSYCHOLOGICAL COST BEYOND CALCULATION ?
WERE YOU RUNNING WITH SCISSORS ?
SLIVERS OF EGO——-
FRUITCAKE WITH MORE NUTS THAN FRUIT
WHAT IF THERE WERE NONBELIEVERS ?
TEENAGE EARS HEARING ADULT WORDS ?
DEVELOPMENTAL STAGES OF GENITALS ?
FAR MORE ALERT TO OTHER PEOPLE’S ERRORS
THAN TO YOUR OWN
*I wanted to see you in the library reading all those books
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the film was translated into 12 other languages but the subtitles were all flarf – it made a bad film worse – jarring juxtaposition between image & word –
the confusion of the viewer as the story gets lost in the narrative of others
a stunt man was called in for the honeymoon scenes –
muscles strained, angled lenses, the storyboard didn’t reflect reality
angry director
beat boy
grip
– a montage of things to a rock soundtrack
– a car chase
– long panning shot of an apartment
-there are grains of truth in everyone’s lies
– the end credits were just a list of jobs and names
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THINGS THAT TROUBLED ME ABOUT THE FILM OF YOUR LIFE
______________________________________________________
MEN SPOKE WITH SOFT VOICES: WOMEN SPOKE WITH HARSH VOICES
MANY OF YOUR RELATIVES WERE LIVING BY INSTINCT AND HAD NO NEED OF LANGUAGE
THERE WAS TOO MUCH “CLEANSING OF SIN”
TALK OF “SPECIAL TREATMENT” OF WOMEN
WALLET NURTURING
SUPPRESSION OF EMOTION
DROWNED AMBITIONS
PUBLIC PERSONA AND PRIVATE PERSONA
RAPE AS A HOBBY
NONEXISTENT RELATIONSHIPS
GIRLS MISSING FINGERS
TIGHTLY WOUND FORESKIN IN THE WORKPLACE
DETECTIVES ASKING QUESTIONS ABOUT BATTERY AND ASSAULT
YOUR AMORPHOUS BROTHER APPLAUDING HIS MANHOOD
EXCESSIVE TALK OF DECLINING SPERM COUNT
NO MENTION OF THE CURIE HOUSE
NO MENTION OF YOKO ONO OR SEAN
HINTS OF GIRLY-GIRL ISSUES
ENTITLEMENT
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THE FILM OF YOUR LIFE MINUS YOURSELF
BIG-PICTURE EXISTENTIAL THOUGHTLESS LIVING
AS A SMALL BOY, YOU WERE A TREMBLING ANIMAL
SPOONS AND FORKS BOTHERED YOU
YOU ATE WITH YOUR HANDS
YOU WERE AT THE MERCY OF YOUR FATHER
THE SWEEP OF HISTORY
WHY DO I SPEAK OF COLD THINGS ?
I AM THE SPIRITS THAT FLY IN THE SKY
I AM THE HAUNT OF DEAD POETS
UNLIKE ANDROIDS, I HAVE SELFHOOD
YOU CAN TOUCH MY OUTLINE
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INTIMATELY FAMILIAR WITH THE WORST
YOU SAT OUT THE ROLE OF YOURSELF
YOU WERE ALREADY OVEREXTENDED
*your mother called me and begged me
to overestimate you
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the film of your life a is a book – the rights were never sold
– the story was to complex,
to many interlinked narratives –
– the over bearing mother
– the absent father
– sibling rivalry
– youthful flirtations with things
– a backdrop of suburban normality an undercurrent of something
sinister
– green laws and sprinklers
– close up on a GIDEONS
– empty hotel rooms and elevators
packages left in derelict locations – clues but no mystery
intimately person with the girl next door
all these words do not make a story but you have the script
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THE FILM OF YOUR LIFE AND YOU WERE ABSENT
YOU PROJECT A CLEAN IMAGE
WORDS TO CONFUSE READERS
———————-BUT NOT THE LIKES OF MULTIPLEMICHAEL
I CAN SEE THE FLAMES INSIDE
THE OLD COAL STOVE BURNS BRIGHT
YOU BURN THE WORDS OF PHILOSOPHERS
YOU BURN CREATIVE ENERGIES AND SPIRITUAL GIFTS
THANK GOD YOUR FAMILY WEARS MAGNETIC SHOES
I SPEAK OF JOHNNY BOY NOT DERIVED FROM FATHER AND MOTHER
THAT SOMETHING SPECIAL FROM A DIFFERENT SOURCE
SOMETHING SECRETLY IMPLANTED
YOU ARE NO LONGER THE SINGLE SELF
A HISTORY OF ACTIVATION
PATTERNED ENERGIES
UNLIMITED POTENTIAL
NEW ADAM
*johnny boy no longer an isolated individual,
johnny boy a sharing collective
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the outline of ancient cities were found in Arizona – exactly a week after the UFO sightings –
you on a rock with a camera
– radium levels higher than normal
– later, locals complained of fatigue, sore throats, hair loss and visions –
– the outline of ancient cities
relics of cutlery
civilised by the knife
micheal jackson and the jesus juice – got the Kids to take a trip in his magic ship
long journeys in big cars
speeding past scenery
radios jumping through stations,
a line from a song…the road passes under you like video tape…
the UFO brings in extra tourists
new hotels built
Someone call GIDEON!!
**i’ll send you a copy of the book when I’m done
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I REFUSE TO BE INTIMIDATED BY OUTLINES OF ANCIENT CITIES
I DO NOT GIVE A HAIRY RAT’S ASS FOR ANYTHING ANCIENT
ANCIENT IS DEAD AND PROBABLY FAKE
HISTORY IS DEAD AND 100% FAKE
I SPIT ON ANCIENT HISTORY
WE OFTEN FEEL EVERYTHING IS CONNECTED
SCIENTISTS AND GRADE SCHOOL TEACHERS
PREACH CAUSE-AND-EFFECT
JUST A LARGE LOAD OF CRAP
YOU WRITE ABOUT OUTLINES OF ANCIENT CITIES
IT EVOKES ALL SORTS OF RESPONSES
SPECTATORS STAND OUTSIDE YOUR LIVING QUARTERS
UNLIKE ALL THOSE OTHER POETS
JOHNNY BOY IS NOT A SLIP OF PAPER
WAITING TO BE DRAWN FROM A HAT
THEY ARE CHANTING, “JOHNNY BOY”
ARE YOU REALLY THE NEW ADAM ?
CAN YOU FREE YOURSELF FROM DEPENDENCE
UPON LITERARY IDEAS ?
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HOBBLING LOVERS
ON THE OUTLINES OF ANCIENT CITIES
EXPERIMENTAL PEE SHOWERS
PAINFUL ELECTRONIC EQUIPMENT
UP THE BACKSIDE
CLEANSING DWELLERS
OF THEIR TOXIC FLUIDS
POETIC INERTIA
GYMNASTICS
WITH A WOODEN LEG
AND A RUBBER HOSE
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LATE AT NIGHT, JOHNNY BOY IN CARDBOARD BOX
MYSTERIOUS GEOGRAPHY IN CRAYON
A WORLD WHERE WOMEN DROP BABIES
A WORLD UNDERLINED WITH REPETITION
THE FUNCTIONAL USE OF JIBBER
POETRY WET WITH UNCHARTED WATERS
——–WATER NEVER BEEN CROSSED——
ENCOUNTERS WITH THE DEAD
OBSERVING THEM IS ONE THING
TALKING TO THEM—THE NEED FOR CURBS
DO YOU HAVE A PROPER SENSE ABOUT WHEN TO RUN ?
WITH NO IDEA OF LOVE, THE BIG BEAR EAT YOU
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GYMNASTICS
WITH A WOODEN LEG
AND A RUBBER HOSE
THEY SAID THAT THE BROWN STUFF
WAS SIN
————
I MAY NOT BE A CREDIBLE CANDIDATE
I HAVE MY BICYCLE PHENOMENA
A MAN SAC OF URGENCY
A TASTE FOR POISON
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THE POET DISCOVERS HIMSELF WHILE WRITING THE POEM
IN THE PROCESS OF WRITING THE THOUGHT
A LANGUAGE-CENTERED WORLD
BAREFOOT ON WORDS
UNBOUNDED DAILY
JOHNNY BOY
————————————————-WHAT HAS ALREADY HAPPENED
————————————–BLUNT AND ABRUPT (CONFORMIST)
NO ONE WANTS TO BE WEAK IN THE FACE OF DANGER
SOCIAL ANXIETIES WITH RAZOR BLADES
THE DESIRE TO SHOUT AND RUN
NO TIME TO WRITE OR READERS TO READ
PRESUMABLY, OTHER PEOPLE HAVE A DENSER CONTEXT
A MUCH HIGHER STATUS IN AN ESTABLISHED SENSIBILITY
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FELLOWS WITH LARGE EYES
WERE BUSY MAKING
ASSESSMENT
OF NONVERBAL COMMUNICATION
CODES FOR ERROR
LONG-TERM CONSEQUENCES ANTICIPATED
POETS LABELED “FLOATERS”
VAGABONDS OF THE WORD WORLD
(FRINGES OF LITERARY FORAGING)
TESTOSTERONE ON THE FLOOR
NONSCIENTISTS FROM THE BATHS
AND OTHER SPEAR THROWERS
AFRAID TO DISPLAY THEIR VOCABULARY
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the large eyed men stay behind plexiglass – staring- observing with
clipboards in hand
marking off, with angry Xs
everytime a participant used a vowel
– small electric shocks
– currents running, sharp tingles
non verbal nods and ticks
points and raised eyebrows
the inability to complete a Rubix cube, impaired motor functions
the weight of the words he carried around meant Multiple Michael couldn’t fly on planes
excess baggage,
you understand?
you pay more dollar?
poet at the new frontier
edge of cliff
writing for the horizon
people with £30,000 grants will discuss what defines the future
people who don’t understand now will decide your future
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…they found a new old tribe in the Amazon, been hidden away for millennia, naked and painted, under the canopy next to flowing rivers, they three spears at the helicopter and on live TV they cut the heart of a child to appease their gods…
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MOMMA SAYS, “JOHNNY BOY, YOU PUT YOUR STRUGGLES IN BOXES
LIKES, DISLIKES, VALENTINES FROM SCHOOL CHUMS
SCABS FROM FIGHTS
TEN YEAR OLD BISCUITS
JOHNNY BOY, YOU PUT YOUR STRUGGLES IN BOXES
WELL-FUNCTIONING ORGANS WITH NO RELIGION
INHERENT CONFLICT, NORMAN’S DEAD MOTHER
DVDS OF SOCIAL LOAFING
CDS OF ARTIFICIAL CELTIC MUSIC”
*standing by the penicillin table
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SERIOUSLY—–CDS OF ARTIFICIAL CELTIC MUSIC
A NICE SMALL ROOM AT THE KENTUCKY STATE PENITENTIARY
A SAFE PLACE TO PARK BOXES PACKED WITH CARE
MAGAZINES FROM 1979
A COPY OF THE JEFFREY DAHMER DIET
HAIR FROM SOCIETY’S CRACKS
TRAGIC NARRATIVES WITH FATHER
KINSMEN RIVALRY—THAT BUG-EYED BROTHER
EVOLUTIONARY FOOD YOUR MOTHER COOKED
WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT CRAP ?
LIKE YOU WERE IN MEXICO CITY
HAVING TO EAT PIG LUNGS
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ARTIFICIAL CELTIC MUSIC
THAT IS ROMANTIC AND SEXUAL
3 HOURS OF THAT
AND ONE LACKS FASCINATION WITH OXYGEN
——————————————————————-
YOU TOLD ME ONCE THAT YOUR FATHER
WAS A “CATALOGUER”
YOUR YOUNG LIFE WAS ON INDEX CARDS
*some stuff was erased
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I HEARD YOUR FATHER TALKING TO GOD
HE WISHED HE HAD BEEN MAROONED
ON AN ISLAND BY HIMSELF
THE MYTHS WERE NOT WORTH LIVING
BELONGING TO A SPECIES
IN WHICH RELATIONSHIPS
WITH RELATIVES
ARE TOXIC
*social friction is a product of individuality or the lack of
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THERE YOU WERE PACKING THOSE DAMN BOXES
I WANTED TO LOOK IN THE ONE LABELED
“PRIVATE ACTS AMONG CONSENTING ADULTS”
WHAT WOULD PROMPT ONE TO SAVE THOSE ?
PURITY AND HOLINESS WOULD NOT BE ON THE LIST
IN YOUR CASE—EXALTED PURITY AND HOLINESS
TO GRANT AND RETURN FAVORS
SIGN ME UP TO BE HAPPY
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the boxes over flowed with
white elephants of unwanted trinkets
– memories of her
long summers , back then when this was all new
– the labels were misleading – throw the wolves of the scent
– PRIVATE ACTS AMONG CONSENTING ADULTS was all
images down loaded from the dark recess of forgotten avenues
– I can sketch some of the more risqué ones for you?
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when my father talked to god he was speaking to himself
– ancient voices from castaways on the island we’ve lived on since
before the myth washed up on your shores
clad in black robes descending from wooden ships
bringing new words wrapped in leather
– a cycle of packing and unpacking
of embracing and of letting go
– of shedding
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INTELLIGENT CORRECTIONS
TO ONGOING BEHAVIOR
ANGELS CIRCLE YOUR HEAD
LIKE UNMANNED DRONES
POSSIBLE MAPS
BEING ASSEMBLED
FROM THE SIGNALS
INFORMATION
—EMOTIONS—
AND THEIR UNDERPINNINGS
HIDDEN PARTS OF YOUR DAILY DAY
JOHNNY BOY, A PILOT IN A COCKPIT
FUNCTIONAL LIVING FLESH
A LIFE OF CORRECTIVE
AND REGULATORY REACTIONS
INTERIOR LIFE PORTRAYED
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SAFEGUARDING ONE’S MANHOOD
WHILE DISPLAYING ONE’S VIRILITY
MENTAL AND PHYSICAL POETRY
DANGER ITSELF EVERYWHERE
SCIENTIFIC MEN OUT TO EXCITE
THROBBING SCIENTIFIC MEN
MANLY SELF-CONTROL
GEIGER COUNTER
SINNERS
*common sense or crotchety crotch
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CLAD IN BLACK ROBES
DESCENDING FROM WOODEN SHIPS
CLAD IN ENTHUSIAMS————————————————–FOR MODERNISM
THE BOOK WAS ANTIFEMININE AND RACIST
A CRITICAL VOCABULARY
THAT SPRANG FORTH STANDING UP
A QUEST FOR SUPERMAN STATUS
GONNA BE JESUS REAL SOON
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CLAD IN BLACK ROBES
DESCENDING FROM WOODEN SHIPS
A MASCULINE CLIMATE ON MASCULINE LEGS
GENERATIVE FLUIDS UNDER LOCK AND KEY
EVIL SISTERS BEHIND EVERY BUSH
JUST BEGGING THE LORD TO BE IMPREGNATED
“OH LORD, SEND US THOSE SWEET AND WHOLESOME MEN
AND NOT THOSE BRAWNEY ASS POETS”
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when my great great great grandfather arrived on the shore he was laden down with a prefabricated back story made up to explain his escape – a loose narrative of witch hunts,
falls from grace,
family disgrace – inheritance of disease,
sick plagues upon his DNA
– he saw the outline of the nation as he arrived
wind swept and salty
– the land a solid object he could find life in
xray existence of exposed bones
the brawny bones of black robes
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OPTIMISTIC PEOPLE WHO PACK 7000 BOXES
STUDENT ACTORS IN THE LIFE THEATRE
BUSY TRANSLATING POETRY
WORDS BEING PARCELED OUT
DALLIANCES WITH DANGER
INNOCENCE BEING TESTED
THE CALLOUS DEMANDS
NOT HEARD FROM THE OTHER ROOM
NOT VISIBLE THROUGH WALLS
TO THINK OF AN ORGASM
WHEN IT IS SO COLD
*judgment, the cruel shore where no man should land
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there is no optimism when everything is boxed,
packed, stacked, a life like tetris,
the accumulation of years of waste, reacquainted with forgotten
sentences
old phrases recalled
the other room is empty and my voice echoes
bouncing off boxes of shoes, jackets,
pots and pans
who needs 24 chairs in one house?
an odd number of knifes to forks
743 comments below the text
we have no time for the lazy poets
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my manhood has been under the knife
handled by medical men, men with intimate
knowledge of the bodies, the veins and
the alleyways
the organs pumping
white clad pristine nurses
I saw them make the first incision
they had a radio that played pop music
Katy Perry or Miley Cyrus
the nurse looked at my manhood and stemmed the flow
of blood
I was awake the whole time
the sterile knifes, sharp
the air condition whirled and the bright light
shone into my eyes the whole time
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there are no corrections
nothing is wrong and nothing is right
this is all automatic
this is all put down in a matter of minutes
no forethought
no plans
no maps to follow no grid references to lead you to X
I am X
in the cockpit
interior monologue & exterior words
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apropos of nothing – a break from the boxes –
right now –
a live update
frying an egg and its not the allocated time
for feeding – Boards
of Canada & a cup of tea –
a blinking phone with a cracked screen – two
slices of white bread, buttered,
smelling of dust,
no deodorant
a stain on my shirt,
the shirt is yellow,
half a job application unfinished, closing date
sometime next week when I’m settled
it’ll be finished
the egg isn’t runny and I’m disappointed at
my lack of attention to detail
its the small things
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ALL THOSE SITUATIONS IN LIFE—THE BOXES, THE SHIRT STAIN, ZEUS
ONE MUST DEVELOP AN APPRECIATION FOR THE SOAP OPERA
FROM FEEDING BABY BIRDS WITH YOUR MOUTH
TO EXPLORING EROTIC DIMENSIONS WITH AN AUTO-JACK
EVERY DAY PEOPLE FALL FROM THE CLOUDS
THEY ARRIVE WITHOUT NOTICE AND UNCOUNTED
THE EXTRAORDINARY ONES HAVE ATTENDANTS
GOD HAS TOLD THEM TO PLANT SEED AND HARVEST
RECONFIGURERS AND ARTICULATORS ARE IN DEMAND
*the world has become crooked and lazy
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IN THE DARK BACKWARD AND ABYSM OF 7000 BOXES
A WILLING HISTORY OF BONDAGE
A SELF-DELUSIVE FREEDOM
LIFE IN ITS OWN LANGUAGE
24 CHAIRS LATER
OF COURSE SHE ISOLATED AND SCRUTINIZED
EACH STAIN ON YOUR FABLE
IN THE DARK BACKWARD AND ABYSM OF BEING A READER
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——————————————SHE———————-
SERVING WELL FOR HURT AS FOR REMEDY
A PARENTAL FIGURE OF AUTHORITY
SHE CONTROLS JOHNNY BOY (THE MINOTAUR)
IT IS HER LABYRINTH THAT GRIPS HIM
GLUED TO THE WALLS WITH DISOBEDIENCE
*spectators point to his childhood
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H.P. LOVECRAFT
NEVER TOLD ANYONE
ABOUT THE CASTRATING NATURE OF WOMEN
ARTICULATED BEFORE THE IMMEDIATE EXIT
MANY MEN ARTICULATE INDIRECTLY
MEANINGLESS WITHOUT PAIN
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SOME WOULD SAY A TERRIBLE CO-DEPENDENCY
700 BOXES, 24 CHAIRS
SADOMASOCHISTIC RITUALS
SIGNS OF BATTLE
AND PLAY
——————————————————–POWERFUL WORDS, YEARS AFTER THE TYPEWRITER DEATH
——————————————————–MANUAL WRITING, ATTRACTING AND ADDICTING
——————————————————–TO REVITALIZE POETRY, WRESTLEMANIA POETRY
——————————————————–HOMICIDAL THOUGHTS, VISCERAL AND ANAL HEADLONG
——————————————————–HYPERMASCULINE, NEVER AT A LOSS FOR WORDS
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THE NARRATOR TO THE JOHNNY BOY STORY
MONSTROUSLY HEROIC
ADOLESCENT BUT HUNG LIKE A HORSE
THE FOUL LIFE GROWING UP
THE MILLIONS OF WORDS
THE SCATOLOGICAL THOUGHTS
PRIVATE EXCRETORY FUNCTIONS
EMILY DICKINSON PRIVATE
*she leaked on the coast—discoloring the sand
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LURCHIING BACK AND FORTH IN TIME
WITH THE MASTER CLOCK OF FLARF
OH JOHNNY BOY ON THE THRONE
BELCHING AND FARTING
THE DARK EYE ON THE OTHER SIDE
GENDERED AND GENDER BENDING
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narrative techniques
misdirection smoke and mirrors hidden treasures & daggers – multiple micheal was the x on the treasure map –
dark town memories – the act under moon light – in high heels and furs –
questionable questions
she never belched or farted – no has left her –
she expanded
balloon lady heading for the the stratosphere
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AT ONE TIME CHARLIE ZERO DATED A BALLOON LADY
HANDY TO HAVE AROUND CHILDREN AND DRUNKS
ALWAYS WELCOME AT THE HOSPITAL
TO BRING A SMALL AMOUNT OF JOY
TO PUT A SMILE ON FACES
ORAL ENCHANTMENT
GOOD SMOKE PROVIDES MISDIRECTION
DOLLAR STORE MIRRORS TOO CHEAP TO BREAK
DIABOLIC TONGUE KISSING WITH COUNTRY WESTERN
THE TASTE OF FAST FOOD, HUGE DONG PSEUDONYM
ALWAYS NICE TO HAVE A MAN ON THE PALETTE
HETEROSEXUAL WITH A TWISTER, A SIDE-ORDER
EVOLVING PERSPECTIVE, EVERYONE IS GOING JUNGIAN
THE CHRISTIAN APOCALYPTIC REALITY IS LOADED AND READY
ANY DIMENSION UNDERLYING MATTER IS ONE OF PAIN AND AGONY
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SHE KEPT TALKING ABOUT SUBMERGED LACK-OF-COMMITMENT
LIKE HE WAS LIVING IN A METAL CAN IN OUTER SPACE
THE WORD QUAALUDE WAS WRITTEN ON 7000 BOXES
ONE BOX HAD DISTORTION PEDALS
YNGWIE MALMSTEEN PARTS IN ANOTHER
7000 BOXES ON A PIANO PLAYER’S SALARY
—————–SHE—————————————–
SHE COMES TO US IN OUR SLEEP
DREAM GIRL NEVER APOLOGIZES
HER HEAVENLY TEXTURE—HER COMPLEXITY
SHE SHARED DELIGHT IN CARNAGE
MEAT IN THE STOMACH—WET FRESH MEAT
SIGHTS AND SOUNDS AND RED BLOOD
A CRAZY TASTE FOR THE STRANGE
BOTH FAMILIAR AND UTTERLY NEW
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7,000 boxes of artificial limbs, fuzz pedals and wigs – boxes on top of boxes – hardcore music and softcore porn – erections at angles –
missiles pointing to the stars –
any dimension but not the third –
close encounters at the smoke shop – 50oz’s in sealed bags
-her soft fur is like a cat
– claws retracted at the orgy –
NASCAR stars thank The Lord and have fathers who idolise Charlton Heston – the drive fast to escape the communist contagion – the fear of heathens in skirts –
basketball players look smaller in real life but their feet look bigger
the ten richest men in the world are trying to build a castle on the moon
secular distortion at the Malmsteen house – your mums worst fear – Malmsteen has gone jazz
Radical
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he tried to negotiate the hostages release with flarf –
he tried to buy the 7,000 boxes at an auction – gavel smashing – fat men with stomachs pushing through shirts –
wobbly flesh – sweats and chairs creaking –
outside
thousands of miles away
blue bulls cavort in dewy fields – days from now they will decipher the code –
the symbols will have meaning
oh, captain
oh, lieutenant
oh my labours
oh my pleasures –
the unknown song from Oliver
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moving between signals –
reception interference at the terminals – the static buzz electrifies hairs on arms –
she vibrates next to me –
– to close for comfort
a hair breadth away
a cigarette paper gap
– there is blood in the cargo bay
tiny children lost in a maze of the 7,000 boxes trying to find the throne
trying to find a way home
————
– honeymoon memories of her asking me to lurch back and forward
– at Leviathan, salaries fixed in perpetuity –
there are no rewards here –
Von Daniken runways criss cross the pampa –
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her 50 Italian cigarettes a day made her sound like tom waits –
she was hanging by a thread
a mirror that didn’t show her reflection, something missed on the conveyor belt – faulty goods –
– the angle songs again
– a thousand stubs overflow in the ashtray –
Dylan with his two names
Bowie with his ch ch changes
and I can’t remember where this all started and don’t know where it will end –
I have a thousand more words
a box full of ideas –
the Curie house has survived the flood and the tremors and the ballon later screeches when you touch her
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PEOPLE WRITE POEMS ABOUT PRACTICALLY LIMITLESS APPETITES
THEY PUT NASCAR ROYALTY IN CLIMATE CONTROLLED ORGIES
PEOPLE AT THE ORGY WITH THEIR INSIDES PULLED OUT
THE SMELL OF FEAR AND TERMINAL DISEASE
REALITY VERSUS FICTION—REALITY WINS
ENDLESS STOP SIGNS
DECAY, BLIND TO STOP SIGNS
DEATH KISSING STOP SIGNS
*poets feeding delusions of perfectibility
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POETS PROBE PHOBIC PRESSURE POINTS
VICTIMS STARE IN SYMBOLIC MIRRORS
THE PHYSICALITY OF THE HERE AND NOW
INFANTILE SEXUAL MATTERS
CENSORSHIP
EMILY DICKINSON KNOCKING AT THE FRONT DOOR
SHE MANUFACTURED HER WORDS IN PRIVATE
EXCRETORY FUNCTIONS WITHOUT NEED TO WIPE
DRY LETTERS IN A CLUMP
CANDY BARS
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————————–THE FALSE CALL OF AFRICA—————————
EVEN HEAVY-HITTERS DRIVE 90 MILES TO AVOID THAT BABY
LIKE OFFICIALLY SANCTIONED VIOLENCE IS OKAY
IN POETRY THERE IS NO RHYTHM SECTION TO FALL BACK ON
LIFE IS SOLO—-LIFE FLOWS THROUGH THE SOLOIST
STRUCTURED CHORDS SURROUND THE X ON THE TREASURE MAP
SOUTHERN CLOWNS PLAYING THE WRONG NOTES IN HI-FI STEREO
DIXIELAND FIENDS SAFEGUARDING THE SERMONS AND PAPER MONEY
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YOUR BROTHER ASKED YOU TO DISGUISE YOUR WORK
POETRY WITH LATENT OR HIDDEN CONTENT
POTENTIALLY DISRUPTIVE THOUGHTS
WHY DO YOU MANUFACTURE SUCH ?
SO MUCH EASIER TO CRANK OUT
WELL-CRAFTED, ROUNDED POEMS
A SWEET PUPPY WITH BIG EYES
NOT EMILY DICKINSON PISSING BLOOD
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ONE CAN ONLY GUESS HOW IMPORTANT THOSE ITALIAN CIGARETTES WERE
WISH-FULFILLMENT OF AN INFANTILE POET
THE MANIFEST OF EACH DAY WAS NOT TO GET CAUGHT
EVADE CENSORSHIP AND LOCK-UP
HAVING THE POCKETS EMPTIED
——————-EXPRESSING WHAT OTHERS SUPPRESSED
INTERNAL CONFLICTS ARE NOT SUPERFICIAL
THEY ARE NOT TOAST THAT WILL POP UP
OR POPCORN TURNING WHITE
SOMEBODY SAID THAT YOU HAD SPAGHETTI OUT YOUR BEHIND
PECULIAR STRINGS IMPATIENT FOR REHEARSALS
FAMOUS PEOPLE LIKE SY JOHNSON TRIED TO CUT THEM OFF
JIVE-ASS SCISSORS TRYING TO SNIP RECTAL WORMS
MATHEMATICALLY PRIMITIVE ALMOST CHURCH MUSIC
NOBODY OWNS A SAXOPHONE LARGE ENOUGH
STOP THE FINGER PAINTING AND BLOW THE HORN
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FIGURED OUT A REED RIFF, REEDS OUTSIDE THE WINDOW
FIVE-PART HARMONY WITH BROKEN BONES
THE NEW GUY COULD HARMONIZE
I GAVE HIM CIGARETTES
HE GAVE US THE BEAT
THE ROOM WAS FULL OF PERSONALITIES
SAINTS AND SINNERS AND A COMMON MONKEY
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your famous people are just names on these shores – what they do I can not say – act in TV shows only watched in the day by drunk housewives?
Seven times NASCAR winners?
Jazz musician with heroin arms?
I dissect their names and re-direct the radio waves
my brother works for Babylon and holds no truck with these words or those Italian cigarettes – his knowledge of Emily and her bloody trails – internal conflicts resolved when we left the womb –
difficult to express emotion when you have none difficult to follow maps that are ripped in half – continental drift
multiple micheal is a secret jazz fan and frequents all the Florida jazz spots
———-
**jazz spots isn’t something pornographic
**in writing, the first draft is a rehearsal
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YOUR CHILDHOOD COMRADE (NORMAN) IS IN TIJUANA
A BIG MAN IN A CITY OF SMALL BEAN EATERS
HE SAID THAT HIS MOTHER BECAME SILENT
AT THE END—LIMBLESS AND SILENT
A HUMAN PET NO LONGER DESIRED
——————————————————
I HAVE A BROTHER WHO WORKS FOR BABYLON ALSO
HE IS THE CEMENT IN OUR FAMILY
GROUNDED AND MATURE
WORKS 6 DAYS A WEEK
2 WIVES AND VARIOUS HOLES
BIG TRUCKS AND A SUV COLLECTION
700 CHANNELS ON THE TUBE
AN OLD FASHIONED RUSSIAN CELLPHONE
I TRIED TO USE HIS COMPUTER
BUT IT WAS TOO PRIMITIVE
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Tijuana Norman crosses the border daily – carries a suitcase in his right hand – sweats a lot –
kicks sand
nervous ticks
I know your brothers computers – ancient stuff – has cuneiform keys – a typewriter with papyrus – do you have a favourite pyramid?
Normans mother was silent – death does that to you –
plaid shirts & grunge – 15 minutes of fame and soup cans
Keeping one wife satisfied is hard – to keep two is impossible –
24 chairs in one house is 22 two many
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YOU COULD PURCHASE A BOOK
ON HOW TO EXERCISE YOUR EMOTIONS
LEARN TO MASTURBATE YOUR EMOTIONS ?
“CLOSELY IN HAND”
BECOME A POETIC WEIGHTLIFTER
LIFT NOT ONLY SYMBOLS
BUT ALSO SYMBOLIC MIRRORS
A PLEASING ALLEGORICAL SQUEEZE
SO WEIRD WHEN THE TUBES HURT AFTERWARDS
THAT IS WHAT IT FEELS LIKE WHEN CHARLIE ZERO
HAS TO THINK BEYOND FLARF OR ITS SISTER
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a big bean in a town of small fries
– a small bean of no consequence
– utopian scientists want ANSWERS
– common monkeys dance the fandango
– hairy hands jitter and jive
– gangs in balaclavas patrol the periphery of Leviathan
– NASCAR wheel spins are concentric rings – the orbit of planets
drawn there on a parking lot in some tumbleweed town – your 7th mother
– jazz loving ears and a 1,000 finger snaps
– Chinese finger traps employed at the entrance –
– all this is just conjecture
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YOU SPEAK BADLY OF NASCAR BUT NASCAR SERVES THE LORD
IT PROVIDES AN IMPORTANT FUNCTION
IN AN ACCELERATED MOLECULAR LANDSCAPE
THE ENTIRE RACE AND LOCATION
SERVES AS A RUDDER TO PUT A BIGGER EVENT ON COURSE
WE MUST BRAVE THE STORM OF NASCAR
IN A STRANGE WAY
EACH RACE OFFERS A COMIC COMMENTARY
ON OUR DAILY STRUGGLE…OUR CIRCLE OF HAZARD
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NASCARS only turn in one direction like people at dog shows –
round in a circle –
Möbius strips
iron bridges old cities
lost our personalities
chewing tobacco
building the ark
those Kentucky kids and their cars with no engines
the human condition has been much discussed but you can’t pin point it on a map –
life documented by scatter gun poetry –
on a satellite map of England you wouldn’t be able to see me
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—–A SOFT SPOT FOR KIDS WITH CARS WITH NO ENGINES———–
IT IS MUCH EASIER FOR A MALE IN KENTUCKY
TO OBTAIN AND MAINTAIN AN ENGINELESS AUTOMOBILE
THAN A BLONDE HAIR LADY WITH A SVELTE FIGURE
HOMINID FEMALES ARE NOT CONTINUOUSLY AVAILABLE
ONE MUST WATCH FOR THE OVULATION SIGNALS
(IN KENTUCKY, PELVIC SIZE SEEMS VERY IMPORTANT TO SELECTION)
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CHEWING TOBACCO………IS THAT A SOCIAL COMMENTARY ?
FLORIDA POPULATED BY “THE DUKES OF HAZARD”
NASCAR KEEPS HALF OF THE SCIENTISTS IN AMERICA EMPLOYED
THE OTHER HALF WORK TO POISON OUR FOOD SUPPLY
EVERYTHING IS CORRUPT—TROUBLING QUESTIONS HAVE REPLACED PRAYERS
RUNAWAY MACHINERY HAS REPLACED RELIGION
THE SMARTPHONE IS GOD: THE SMARTPHONE WILL REMAIN GOD
IT IS SEX AND LOVE AND PROVIDES A PLEASING ALLEGORICAL FEEL
*servants of machines with a giant APPLE for a Frankenstein vs Eden logo
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Lazy arse flarf
Cut up and sent right back
POPULATED GOD
EMPLOYED THE QUESTIONS TOBACCO………IS APPLE TOBACCO………IS TOBACCO………AND SCIENTISTS
HAVE a COMMENTARY on a COMMENTARY
Is GOD In FLORIDA?
Is god MACHINERY?
Is god a logo?
FOOD REPLACED by machines
Love replaced by a smartphone
MACHINE LOVE
EMPLOYED THE CORRUPT—TROUBLING
Eden is POPULATED and burning. Frankenstein CHEWING GOD
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a 10 kills the pack –
sky the colour of a sick elephant – never seen one in real life –
dirty streets of last nights meat
a shoe hanging from telephone wire lapsed nun at the puppet show
I’ll meet you at there, at 3pm –
it was hot in there I thought I’d expire –
low hanging fruit is the easiest of pickings –
whore dogs sniffing round other arseholes – feigning sincerity, the two faced Gemini man –
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THE MUSIC WAS HEAVY BUT THE AUDIENCE WAS LIGHT
FULL BOTTLES OF BOOZE AND A MEASURING TAPE
THEATRICAL PELVIC BONE SIZE
TEMPERAMENTAL FEMALES NOT WILLING TO OPEN UP
WHO CAN UNDERSTAND FEMALE RAGE ?
LOTS OF PHOTOGRAPHS OF BRUISED EGOS
AT THE POLICE STATION
NEVER AN OPPORTUNE MOMENT FOR A BRUISE
HIGH-QUALITY BLACK AND BLUE
REHEARSING 911
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LOW-HANGING FRUIT, DADDY
PARTS OF THE PERSONAL MAKEUP
UNSTACK THE BAD
START FRESH
DIZZY GILLESPIE WAS EYEBALLING PELVIC BONES
A MATTER OF INCHES FOR THE BIG HEAD
A MATTER OF DOLLARS AND CENTS
DON’T WANT NO CRACKER
PULLING THE BABY OUT
WITH A TRACTOR
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YOU MAILED ME THAT SILLY-ASS CARD ABOUT YOUR TYPEWRITER BEING SICK
AND DID I THINK IT WOULD DIE AND DID I KNOW A HOME REMEDY
YOUR TYPEWRITER WAS COMMERCIAL, NOT ORGANIC
A WOUNDED POLICEMAN CALLING FOR BACK-UP
VOLATILE POETRY THAT DID NOT NEED TO BE POKED OR GOADED
*I went to dark town for my trumpet cleaning
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SELF-GRATIFYING FLARF
FROM THE POETRY MACHINE
FEMALES WITH ODOMETERS
WHEN PRESSURED
RUN BACKWARDS
SOMETIMES TO ZERO
THE NARRATOR
OF LOVE
PRAISES EVEN THE CORPSE
VILLAINS LOOKING FOR PARTNERS
BEDROOM MANGLERS
RESHAPED PARTS
ODD PELVIC MEASUREMENTS
UNDETERMINED IMPULSES
ALTERED AND MAGNIFIED
TEARING A NEW HOLE
FOR THE HONEYMOON
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Dizzy the ring leader fresh from his stint
at the big house – frazzled and musical
he always carried a tape measure
dollars and cents filled his hat as he busked on the
corner of dark town – musical corners – the things he would do for extra inches-
pelvic stretches to accommodate the goat like birth-
Kentucky tractors rubble through the orchard –
low hanging and hairy – an image she couldn’t forget
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the card was sent during a moment of low mood and panic – I”m sorry –
the typewriter spewed forth sentences of cuneiform and unknown symbols – I think it was jealous of the new flarf machine I had bought – I knew there was no remedy
no cure
he stood in the corner baring his teeth
I could see it had wires – opposite of organic
my trumpet was bent like Dizzies
dark town juju and silver hub caps
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you mailed me that picture of Charlie Parker buying up all the horse in dark town – eight hands high –
you felt sorry for Charlie – sticking needles in his arm like a voodoo doll – volatile jazz
– exploding sax
– quick fingers
– there was no remedy except the end – some people have a death wish – some just blow out the candles – some burn bright –
we carry this torch forward
just forget about the typewriter – you can’t save it –
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LOW HANGING AND HAIRY– AN IMAGE SHE COULD NOT FORGET
POSSIBLY THE BY-PRODUCT OF MEDDLING WITH A FLARF MACHINE
INSTANT POETRY MIGHT CAUSE RUNAWAY MUTATION
POETS CAN NOT CONTROL WHAT THEY HAVE CREATED
WORDS HAVE BECOME A PLAGUE OF ANGRY AGENTS
NO ONE INTERVENES ON BEHALF OF THE READER
NASCAR HAS ESCAPED ITS PLASTIC BAGGIE
NASCAR IS BIBLE STRENGHT NAKED
NUDITY (CIRCUS STYLE) IS DIFFICULT TO OUTRUN
OPEN HARMONICS AND COUNTER-MOTIFS
PSEUDO-AVANT-GARDE-CIRCUSY
SPONTANEOUS FLARF
GRIEF FROM A MACHINE
WITHOUT PROMPTING
OR DIRECT QUESTIONING
*dark town is full of black saints
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FLAMBOYANT FLARF—LARGER THAN LIFE
AS ONE GROWS OLDER
DADDY MOVES FARTHER AWAY
UNTIL HE IS GONE
THEN AND ONLY THEN
THE POETRY MACHINE KICKS IN
POEM AFTER POEM
ABOUT THE DISCOVERY OF A FATHER
ABOUT THE DISCOVERY OF A FATHER-SUBSTITUTE
READERS WERE PAYING A NICKLE
TO SEE THE PICKLED/PETRIFIED CORPSE
POETS HAVING PAINTED THE WINDOWS BLACK
EXPLOITED THE DEAD MAN FOR FIVE CENTS
*you may be watching from the outside but you are a participant
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father substitutes include, but not exclusive too:
-new man in mums life
-scarecrow in a field
-drink / drug cocktails
-cardboard cut-out
-voices in the head
-TV / movie star (with concrete chin)
-over familiar neighbour
-paid consort
– medical professional
———————/\
a possible return to the travelling freak show? Heads in jars,
pickling,
survivors of clinical procedures,
victims of political mismanagement and bad chemical reactions –
windows painted black mass black during wartime to hide the light
bury your 23 passports & when they knock
you better remember your alibi
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———————————–FATHER SUBSTITUTES————————–
FATHER SUBSTITUTES ARE ALWAYS GELATINOUS CREATURES
YOU’VE SEEN THE OIL SLICK ON YOUR MOTHER’S PRIVATES
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——————PAINTING
THE WINDOWS BLACK——————–
—————————- ———————-
—————————- ———————-
GRISLY DETAILS OF WW2 CAMPS
SOUP, A MIXTURE OF GUILT AND REVULSION
NO ONE EVER TALKS ABOUT THE HUMAN SOUP
BLAH, BLAH, BLAH—THEY PUT DEAD BODY PARTS
IN THE SOUP—FRESH BODY PARTS IN THE SOUP
BLAH, BLAH, BLAH—THEY WOULD NOT HESITATE
TO PUT PARTS OF YOU IN THE SOUP
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HONEY, PULL OUT THE FLARF MACHINE
DIAL SET FOR
STRONG ATTRACTION TO THE ATROCITIES
——————-TRUE DEPRAVITY——————
UNBURIED CORPSES: STRANGERS, RELATIVES
HOUSEHOLD DETECTIVES
DOLLAR STORE SPIT AND SHINE
ABANDONMENT AFTER BIRTH
YOUNG GIRLS TOSSING BABIES
FROM SPEEDING CARS
IN KENTUCKY
MAGNETIC EVIL
AS THE FAMILY KNELT DOWN AT PRAYER
JANE TOSSED THE BABY AT 75mph
JUST SOUTH OF LOUISVILLE
SHE FELT TOTALLY UNPLUGGED
THE SMALL BODY WOULD BE EATEN
JANE WOULD ALWAYS WEAR A JACKET
AND BE COLD LIKE THE NORTH POLE
HER WET SPOT DRIED UP
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ALL THE MEN ON EARTH WANT TO EXPERIENCE THE UNIVERSAL THROB
RESURRECTION CAN COME LATER, A NAIVE AND INACCURATE WIFE
A WOMAN OF PERSONAL SIN, A GIRL BEAST FROM THE WILDERNESS
SAY YES TO THE DAMN FLARF MACHINE, JUST GIVE IN
GO UNSENTIMENTAL JOHNNY—YANK THOSE DAMN WORDS OUT
SATISFY YOUR PRIMITIVE VOICE—AT THE EXPENSE OF EVERYTHING
———-YOU CAN OUTVOICE SATAN’S CONGREGATION————
THE FLARF MACHINE MAY BE RESTLESS, EVIL, POSSIBLY UNPARDONABLE
SOMEDAY IT MAY BE THE REAPER, THE LAST WHISPER
BUT TODAY, IT IS THE MACHINE KEEPING JOAN ALIVE
A PERVERSE SCIENTIFIC COMA ?
YOU EYES ARE CLOSED, JOAN
YOUR DAUGHTER HAS HER HAND ON THE PLUG
JUST ONE PULL FROM A BILLION DOLLARS (AMERICAN)
*money has little to no value unless it is AMERICAN
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everywhere is south of Louisville –
the south is notorious for having a wicked history –
the hub of evil – something in the water?
a cheery picket was used to pluck the fruit from the tree – juicy and closer to heaven
the building I was born in is older than your country
dirty money, American dollars will buy you guns and drugs and cars and 70inch TVs and fund wars and kill babies and new white sneakers and trumpets but not happiness
never no
not that
**evil deeds thought vs evil deeds acted upon
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outside you can see it’s changing,
seasons moving through their cycles,
unimpeded
camaflaouge slowly dying,
trees shedding,
and inside families gather together around the flarf machine –
the family set the flarf machine to “sentimental memories” and wait for it to vomit out a ticker tape of stanzas
of references to un-lived memories
the TV shows Joan hooked up to machines – her family form a semi circle of possible compassion around her bed
committing acts of treason
what face will she die in?
& with bones rejected from the soup the toothless old lady knits scarves in preparation for a cold snap that’s pushing in from the east
—
**Kodiak bears are preparing
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breathing in crop dust
swallowing organic
a thousand thalidomide babies came scuttling from history
some day they will run out of film
and you won’t know this happened
cover up the ominous scratches on the back of the door
inside the house
overcoats of business men and bankers in a town of freeze frames and taxi cabs
I won’t lie to you
Pull the black curtains for a minute of silence
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I HAVE HEARD RUMORS THAT AFTER 47 AUTOPSIES
THEY WILL FEED THE REMAINS
TO KODIAK BEARS
WHY 47 AUTOPSIES YOU MIGHT ASK ?
NOT TO FIND THE CAUSE OF DEATH
BUT TO GUARANTEE THAT SHE WILL REMAIN DEAD
THE VARIOUS LEVELS OF FACES
TOOK ON THEIR OWN STEPHEN KING
SORT OF REBIRTH
THE FINAL FACE WAS EXTREMELY DIFFICULT
TO EXTINGUISH
VARIOUS FAMILY MEMBERS HAD TO STOMP ON IT REPEATEDLY
ONE PERSON WAS WIELDING A LARGE MALLET
ON TELEVISION THEY REFERRED TO THE EVENT
AS “PULLING THE PLUG”
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THE EXTINCTION OF HER PERSONALITY
WAS THAT WHAT MADE ME CRY ?
SO MANY PEOPLE WERE OVERLOOKING HER LIFE
THEY WERE OCCUPIED WITH THE GOLD FIXTURES ON HER BATHROOM SINK
HER VARIOUS FACE GRAFTS, THE LIPS FROM SOUTH AMERICA
YES, FOR STACKS OF MONEY ONE CAN PURCHASE NEW LIPS
THEY FEEL ODD WHEN YOU KISS THEM
YOU CAN SENSE THEM TURNING AWAY
SHE WAS CONSTANTLY SHIFTING
NEVER STABLE OR UNIFIED
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WHEN YOU ARE NOT AROUND
OTHER POETS QUESTION
YOUR SCIENTIFIC TRAINING
YOUR PERSONAL DISCIPLINE
YOUR APPRECIATION OF GEOGRAPHY
AND PUSH PINS FROM HELLO KITTY
EVERYONE KNOWS YOU HAVE A POETRY MACHINE
THAT IT LEAKS LABORATORY ODORS
THAT IT ONLY APPROXIMATES POETRY
YOU WANT IT TO BE INHERENTLY PRIMITIVISTIC
BUT IT IS NOT
NOT MARKEDLY DIFFERENT FROM GUSTAV JUNG
IT POINTS A FINGER AT THE GILLS ON A HUMAN FETUS
THE BABY IN DARK WATER FROM DARK TOWN
WHITE SCIENTISTS KNOW ALL ABOUT LUNAR CYCLES
TIDAL PRESSURES AND RACIAL INSTINCTS
WHITE PEOPLE HAVE ALWAYS KNOWN
ABOUT THE DELICATE THREADS
OF IRRATIONAL AND IMPULSIVE MUSIC
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A COMRADE WHISPERED IN MY EAR,
“POETRY IS IN OPPOSITION TO DARWINIAN FITNESS”
JOHNNY BOY IN HIS DOMESTIC SPHERE
CROSSHATCHED WITH EDUCATION, OCCUPATION, AND INCOME
NON-DOMESTIC PURSUITS ERASED AND WASHED WITH BLEACH
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the sphere of domesticity — FAMILIARITY BREEDS CONTEMPT — families drift part like ice bergs,
slowly
gradually,
7 killed in a Florida kill spree
in the land where everyone has a gun
murder suicide
evolution stymied
cauterised the blood line
westward migration ends at the shore
a venn diagram overlapping segments of ,
education
work
sex
death happiness
the epicentre & middle ground
America tried to ban the word “comrade” due to its communist associations –
guilt by affiliation
the red scare is still there
new enemies in the emperors new clothes
a different time
– throughout the window there is concrete everywhere –
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WHEN YOU MENTION EVOLUTION I THINK ABOUT HOMINID EVOLUTION
I JUST DON’T HAVE THE ENERGY FOR MOTHER TONGUES
OR CREEPY SLIME AND EATING BUGS
PEOPLE THINK LIFE IS A GIFT FROM GOD
SEEMS LIKE A CRUEL GIFT
LIFE BOILS DOWN TO CONSUMING DEATH
LIKE SOME KIND OF EVIL MACHINE
RACING DOWNHILL TO THE GRAVE
—–THE LOSS OF THE BODY PELT
HAS ROBBED US OUR GROOMING ACTIVITIES
OUR PHYSICAL AND MENTAL TIME HAS DIMINISHED
*copulatory bouts without zest or zing
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THE LOSS OF THE BODY PELT
HAS ROBBED US
OF TOGETHER TIME
THE LOSS OF THE BODY PELT
FORCES US TO THE ZOO
TO RELIVE THE EXPERIENCE
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WHAT A LITTLE MOONLIGHT CAN DO ON THE BACKSIDES OF BULLS
TO BE EDUCATED AND ENLIGHTENED ABOUT THE INTERIOR FORCES
ONE-SIDED SEXUAL ORIENTATION, A MAN INSIDE ANOTHER MAN
TO PRICK THE CONSCIENCE, A THORN HIDDEN IN THE FRUIT
THE STRANGE FRUIT BOX CHECKED ON THE DRIVER LICENSE
HE IS A SHE, A HE WITH NO STEM, A SHE WITH DYNAMIC BREASTS
HOLDING HANDS IN INTEPRETATION, EACH CALLS THE OTHER “SIR”
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SHE WORE BIG WHITE CARTOON GLOVES TO BED
AN EXTENSIVE EXPLORATION—HONEYMOON STYLE
MINUTES AND HOURS FROM A MALIGN FAIRY-TALE
ROMANTIC WRESTLEMANIA, CINEMATIC WRESTLEMANIA
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the dress rehearsals of a 1000 wrestlers –
O’ it’s such a gay cabaret –
hair like lions – made up and touching each other in front of a paying audience –
peep show with faux violence
ticks red neck boxes –
go home and grapple with the wife
-read her Emily’s words
– honeymoon wrestler coming with the woo
split trousers and the wet spots
all within the ring is legal
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1000 wrestlers—-think about the volume of poop
the dead matter produced by the body on a daily basis
always a fascination with the brown
particularly disgusting drops
during rehearsals
pies on the floor
poets must reduce their exposure to predators
mathematical parity between poets and their holes
numerical assumptions prior to the honeymoon
knocking on the door of possibility
non-signaled ovulation
one child and then
another
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1000 wrestlers with amatory gourds
male-male competition
size is king in front of the camera
poetic baboons are everywhere
words from the tree fringe
words from the tree savanna
various effective sizes posted
differences in genitalia
no sleepers
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1000 WRESTLERS HURLING INSULTS AT ONE ANOTHER
ONE-SIDED DIALOGUES IN THE BATHROOM
SHORT EXPLANATIONS IN LONG HAND
FOND OF A SOFT HAND
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aren’t we all wrestlers?
wrestling with the angst, the weather, capitalism, the rats,
flarf,
a tidal wave of conflicting emotions that pin us down?
aren’t we poets wrestlers
wrestling with words?
we are different because we choose to do our wrestling without the need for spandex,
sweat and the close proximity of barely clad men.
———
pivotal moments piledrived into the canvas and given a 10 count
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DEFICIENCY AT THE CENTER OF THEATRICAL POETRY
WEEPING READERS——–MANY IN THE LIMBS OF TREES
OBSERVERS OF LIFE AND DEATH
FAILURE SLEEPS WITH STARVATION
THE SOUND OF DRUMS
PRIZE-GIVING POETRY
WORDS OF TEMPTATION
READY TO BLOW UP
CUMBERSOME
GROIN TONGUE
PASSING OUT VERBAL PRIZES
UNORTHODOX WORDS
BIZARRE VERBS
CONSTANT DRESS REHEARSALS
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TWILIGHT PERSISTS IN THE DEFICIENCY OF COMMON POETRY
WEEPING READERS—UNBORN POETIC LANGUAGE
DEMANDING A TRANSLATOR—IMPRISONED WITHOUT HOPE
CRAMPED COEXISTENCE WITH ODD WORDS
PHOTOGRAPHS OF PEOPLE IN TREES
THE CONSTANT LACK OF PUNCTUATION
POETRY FULL OF ACCIDENTAL RECOGNITION
SPIDER FACES, DREADFUL FRIENDS, A RUSSIAN GYNECOLOGIST
OFF-PUTTING SEXUAL FANTASIES—SIZED ACCORDINGLY
CLOBBERED WITH ORGANS—EMOTIONALLY VICTIMIZED
RELATIVES PASSING OUT PRIZES AT HOLIDAYS
DISGUISED VERBS FOR LESBIANS
TALENTED TONGUES
POINTING NORTH
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KENTUCKY IS 100% ANTI-TECHNOLOGICAL
FRANKENSTEIN IS UNKNOWN
NO DELETE BUTTON TO PRESS
NO APPLE PHONES ON TELEVISION SPOTS
“BIGGER IS BIGGER” MEANS SOMETHING ELSE
WOMEN-FOLK HAVE TO BE CAREFUL AT THE WATERHOLE
THEY REPLENISH AND REPAIR UNTIL THE CURTAIN CLOSES
*rotting corpses in the front yard warn outsiders to stay clear
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DEAR JOHNNY BOY
THE CITIZENS OF KENTUCKY
NEED A MORE COMPREHENSIVE
PROGRAM OF REDEMPTION
CABLE TELEVISION HAS EDUCATED THEM
IN THE HUMAN PROPENSITY FOR EVIL
THEY ARE INFECTED WITH EVIL
SO HEAVILY THEY CANNOT TRANSCEND
THE LONG DEAD ARE LOOKING STRAIGHT UP
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WRITING CONVERSATIONAL POETRY
ABOUT GENITAL DEVELOPMENT
YOU BURN THE MEMORIES
OF HOLES AND HANDS
AND MONEY-BOUGHT
ORAL
AN INERADICABLE PART
OF YOUR SEXUALITY
ABRAHAM AND NOAH
AND INEBRIATED WHORES
SONGS ABOUT SPORTS
THOUSANDS OF EVILS
MONEY GIVEN TO YOU
THROWN IN THE CHASM
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coins thrown into the chasm
dropped to the bottom of the canyon -small roadrunner puffs of smoke –
-mushroom clouds and the destruction after the event
snapped trees
the sum of all the houses parts exposed & scattered
skin hanging like cheap suit
no conversation is off limits – sodomite wrestlers and punk bitch nazi NASCAR drivers –
fighting temptation to taste the pivotal moments –
contorted faces during the abduction
push pins point out pivotal places
there is no instruction manual for Kentuckians – it’s all word of mouth
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——SHE PUTS US WHERE SHE WANTS US——–
———————————————————————-
WHEN NORMAN TALKED ABOUT “HER”
I HAD NO IDEA WHO “SHE” WAS
PERSONAL, TACTILE, SATISFYING
YES, ALL THOSE THINGS AND MORE
———TO REPURPOSE——————–
ONE SUBCULTURE AFTER ANOTHER
BEYOND ARTISTS, MUSICIANS, AUTHORS
FLARF, ANARCHISTS, WORD CRAFTERS
POETS WHO FADE FROM VIEW
POETS WHO SMELL LIKE KEROSENE
FAMILY AND FRIENDS IN THEIR TINY SNOW GLOBES
PECULIAR DANDIFIED THOUGHTS
SLUDGE AT THE BOTTOM
CLOCKWORK POETRY
THAT YOU CALL
COMPLEX MATH
*numbers with critter-like legs and wings
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In Kentucky they don’t have smartphones – just empty tins
connected with string –
– dry grass & dungarees –
confusion at every branch of the family tree –
you couldn’t plot this on a graph –
famous people who say they’re miserable – try a slow death in an office,
supermarkets delivery food to your door and the future kids think vegetables grow inside vans –
never more then 10 foot away from words –
run
run
run
she puts us in positions
on the board
of directors for a faceless conglomerate selling Leviathan goods
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TODAY WHEN YOU OPENED THE BOX
A NICE GIRL JUMPED OUT
SHE ASKED, “ARE YOU THE DREAM BOY ?”
STARVED FOR WORDS YOU OPENED AN OLD BOTTLE
OF LEVIATHAN LIBRARY
THE STAIN OF KISSES AND FONDLINGS
ON YOUR LIPS
*she was too innocent to know the painful mysteries
of tight-lacing love
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BEND DOWN TO FEED THE FIRE’S FLAMES
THE WARM UP ?
FROM PAGE TO PAGE
WORD AFTER WORD
THOUGHTS WITH TIRED BUTTS
QUICK TO STOP AND DROP OFF THOUGHTS
—finding a Rosetta Stone in her underpants
FLARF: THINGS TOO HOLY FOR UTTERANCE
RASH CURIOSITY CAN CAUSE EAR CANCER
NO NONSENSE—POETIC MUMBO JUMBO
PASSION PARTICIPATED
WET UNDERWORLD
NAKEDNESS
WITHOUT SIMPLICITY
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——————-OPENING UP———————-
OUTSIDE ANTHROPOLOGY I COULD SMELL YOUR URINE
OUTSIDE MYTHOLOGY I COULD SMELL YOUR URINE
OUTSIDE PSYCHOLOGY I COULD SMELL YOUR URINE
YOU WERE FEELING SOMEWHAT EFFEMINATE
GENDER WAS BECOMING PROBLEMATICAL
SYNTHESIZING YOURSELF—YOUR SWEATERS
BABY BOY MAKING SWEAT PATTERNS
BABY BOY CLAPPING HIS HANDS
MOMMA DONE COME THROUGH THE DOOR
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RANDOM AND INCONSEQUENTIAL
FLARF—SHOVING AND HEAVING
ACTUAL WORDS
GENTLE ANAL NUDGES
INTERRELATIONS BETWEEN OUR MINDS
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MALES WITH THEIR GIANT ROOTS (SYMBOLIC DECODINGS)
THEIR MASCULINE ORGANS (OVERCOMPENSATING)
GROIN FEELERS (HOMOSEXUALITY WAS ALWAYS SNEAKING ABOUT)
SEXUAL ROOTLETS (STRANDS OF PINK SENSITIVE FLESH)
THE TREE OF LIFE (THERE WERE COUNTLESS TREES)
THE DREAM TOWER
HIGH ABOVE THE ZODIAC HOUSE
NOTHING UNDER THE MAGNIFYING GLASS
GOD WITH HIS RAZORS AND SWORDS
CRAFTING A BABY FACTORY
____________________________________
____________________________________
PISSING STANDING UP
IGNORANT AND PISSING UGLY
HOLLOW PARTS WALKING AROUND
MOTHERS AND SISTERS AND DAUGHTERS
AND MOST IMPORTANT OF ALL
FUTURE RENTALS FOR HIS BRIGHT RED DICK
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THE LETTERS OF YOUR NAME
ARE LIKE THE CARDS IN FORTUNE-TELLING
PROLONGED PLEASURE
UNWASHED MICHAEL
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The fortune teller just guesses
numbers and constellations zodiac nonsense tealeaves and bones – if you can tell me my fortune just guve me the winning numbers for the lottery – death and the joker
names on cards
– gullible drones lose the soap
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“FORTUNE TELLING” HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH FORTUNE TELLING
“BEING IN LOVE” HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH BEING IN LOVE
ALL DIFFERENT SEASONS OF ME
HOLDING EMILY DICKINSON
HER SORROW
THE TIMES WE HAVE DUG HER GRAVE
MORE SOILED THAN ADAM AND EVE
UNWASHED AND CONDEMNED
YES, THERE WERE INTERVALS OF CALM
ANONYMOUS STORMS PASSED US BY
OUR STRUGGLES IN THE OPEN
HATE, LOVE, SHAME, ARROGANCE
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THE HOPELESSNESS OF EMILY
AND HER PLUMBING
URINE SOAKED BLANKETS
SHE WENT ENDLESSLY AT NIGHT
AND THEN SHE COULD NOT GO AT ALL
AND THEY PAID A COLORED WOMAN
TO WASH EVERYTHING
EMILY NICKNAMED HER
“THE IMPROVISER”
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INCOME FROM WASHING AWAY THE URINE
OF AMERICA’S MOST LOVED POET
AESTHETIC DIMENSIONS ?
REPEATED CLOSE EXAMINATIONS
EMILY’S PRIVATES ON DISPLAY
THE OUTSIDE WAS A MASTERPIECE
THE INSIDE—-SOMETHING ELSE
EMILY OFTEN LET LOOSE
FLAT ON THE FLOOR
“THE IMPROVISER”
HAD MADE A PEE MAT
SEDIMENT
VELOCITY
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DROPPED WORDS—WORDS ON THE FLOOR
REPULSIVE LIMITATIONS
VERNACULAR
SLAPSTICK ROMANCE
CARTOON GENITALS IN FANCY PANTS
EMILY, OFTEN CRASHING DOWN
ANGRY AS HELL ABOUT MISQUOTES
POOR JOHNNY BOY IN THE FAME MAGAZINE
A FRONTIERMAN WHO SHOT BLANKS
AN ARMLESS PICASSO—A DARKTOWN BOY
*barbed-wire wreaths are going fast on eBAY
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news words explored – tongues moving over ridges
sentences ripped out
a baby from a body
MM – the frontiers man – standing at the edge of a continent in clown trousers – a red nose that honks when it’s pressed – oversized shoes and a flower that spits out water
– no needs for bulletts
– Bowie knife in hand and an idiots guide to scalping
-the joker in the pack –
the scientist in the lab –
acid baths and flashbacks
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still waiting on the fire report –
the detectives are claiming overtime – two men to each magnifying glass
– I can smell the beginning of a conspiracy –
a motorcade,
an exploding brains
close up and personal
a convenient fall guy
bit part actors in mysterious deaths – shaving accidents,
crushed in dark town cow stampedes,
one fell down a wormhole and appeared back in the same place ten minutes before he fell down a wormhole
conspiracies need silence
people without mouths,
the mute,
the deaf with broken hands,
Kentucky, Leviathan, the Curie House, Emily, cutlery, sodomite NASCAR drivers –
the clues are there
aren’t they?
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STEER CLEAR OF THOSE NASCAR DRIVERS
THEY ARE JUST SLAMBANG AND GONE
IDENTITY THEMES AT 200 mph
SODOMY BEFORE REJECTION
IT IS ALL ABOUT FEELING ACCEPTANCE
STANDING UP ON OPEN-MIKE NIGHT
BAD-MOUTHING POETRY OF ALLUSION
INTERPRETATIONS OF REALITY
YOU QUICKLY MENTION THE DETECTIVES
THEY SLEEP WITH QUANDARINESS
BILLIE HOLIDAY SLEEP
AVAILABLE BLACK TAR IN A SMALL PIPE
TORAH BABY—YOU’RE TORN WORDS
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YOU MENTION PEOPLE WITHOUT MOUTHS
DEADPAN TONE : PEOPLE WITHOUT MOUTHS
ORALITY TO IDENTIFICATION
NO ESTABLISHED MOUTH
NO ESTABLISHED IDENTITY
DEHUMANIZED BONES AND FLESH
HEALTHY SKIN AND TEETH
LOVE YOU BABY
HOW LONG BEFORE YOU TURN ?
NO ONE EATS ADULTS
CHILDREN ARE THE MEAL
EXPRESSING LOVE WITH THE MOUTH
YOU CAN SAMPLE THIS AND MORE
GRAPES FROM THE VINE
CLINICAL SODOMY
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I GOT MY CLOWN TROUSERS
FROM YOUR CLOSET
I SAW YOUR TROPHIES
THEY WERE HIDDEN BEHIND ATTEMPTS AT JOY
THEY WERE WINKING AT ME
INSTEAD OF BATTERIES
THEY HAD OEDIPUS DESIRES
I WAS GOING TO DAMAGE THEM
BUT THAT WOULD MAKE ME A BEAST
BUT THAT WOULD GLUE YOUR CRIMES
TO MY SOUL
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CLOWN TROUSERS THAT AWAKENED YUGOSLAVIA
PREVIOUSLY UNHEARD EXPLICITNESS
LOST IN A HAUNT—A FOREVER HAUNT
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FUTURE UNIONS WITH ABSENT SUBSTITUTE PHALLUS
THAT——–SHE———–BELIEVES WILL GUARANTEE LOVE
TORTURED DYNAMICS OUTSIDE ADULT IDENITY
DIS-MEMBERMENT…………AND THEN RE-MEMBERMENT
EGO BOUNDARIES—BLANK PAGES OF SELFHOOD
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DRINKING WATER FROM A SATANIC SECT
PUT TO A TEST—BBC DADDY PERSONAL INFESTATION
REFORMERS WANTING TO CHECK YOUR ROUND HOLE
PRIEST WITH PRIEST LANGUAGE
ESPECIALLY RURAL AREAS
NAKED CHILDREN IN THE YARD
BROKEN TOYS AND MUDDY FEET
THE SUM OF HUMAN FAILURE
SATELLITE TELEVISION
STRAIGHT FROM SATAN’S SKULL
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Rural babies with missing teeth crawl amongst dust bowl floors – families of 54 squashed into 2 room cabins – all family history condensed – BBC reporters hide up trees
– fair and impartial
– Biblical quotes written in the sky by aeronautical priests – wing walkers on a mission
twelve years ago to the day she stated to dig the hole she has been digging ever since – seven hours a day – seven days a week she digs and near the mantle she stopped and climbed up the ladder to the sun
Through the portal –
John Jagger and Mike Lennon
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ANOTHER SINISTER POWER
THE POLAR OPPOSITE
FOLKLORISH FORESKIN
—HAVE IT OUT READY TO DISPLAY
THE UNDERCURRENT HAS A BAD SMELL
THE SCRIPTURE OF KENTUCKY
AMERICA WITH ITS EXTREME POVERTY
POETS PREACH UNDER THE NUMBER 13
SYSTEMATIC ROOTING OUT OF PHONY WRITERS
NUMERATIONS RESTING IN TREES
UFOS OF THE TORAH
UNHOLY AND IMPURE
ABDUCTION AND HIERARCHY
PEOPLE THINK MOSES WAS A MOVIE STAR
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everyone you meet
ASKS YOU TO SPELL THINGS OUT
you find people to be pure sweetness
COUNTERFEITS IN THE MIRROR
one-sided conversations, Johnny Boy
READERS ARE POINTING FINGERS
your theme song, “I live inside myself”
LEAPING SPIDERS AT ORGASM
clear jism followed by anguish and agony
CLIMBING THE LADDER WITHOUT FEET
absurd guesses and plausible theories
DETECTIVES WITHOUT CHARTS
conflicting meats, often loaded with mystery
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SHE CREPT NEARER EVERY DAY
BEHIND A CURTAIN OF DESPAIR
MACABRE JOKES FROM RELATIVES
VERBAL MACHINERY UNDER THE TREE
———————————————————
SHE CREPT NEARER EVERY DAY
BONE BY BONE, HER BAG FULL
WE TALKED ABOUT EMILY DICKINSON
HER ELSEWHERE HAIR
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NEW FOOTING IN THE MYSTERY MEAT DEPARTMENT
INTIMATE CIRCLES, MECHANICAL ROUND HOLES
SHAVEN SMOOTH
SHE RANG THE NIGHT BELLS
SHE WITH A BOX OF TONGUES
BELL CLAPPERS
MALE ORGANS
OVERTONES OF IRONY
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lift ascends
second floor – sportswear and hunting goods – pots & pans – furniture –
basements – lost poems, stolen words and broken flarf machines
dust trails heavy sneezes
her soft shaven area,
glistening & wet –
the circumscion removed the skin and the doctor threw it out of the window – and years later behold!!…the foreskin tree
burns victim pilgrimage
Emily was above
below and in the middle
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————————————
DON’T STAND UNDER
THE CIRCUMCISION
TREE
——–
A THOUSAND TIMES A DAY
PEOPLE SAY TO ME,
“PRIOR TO EZEKIEL”
THE VOICE IN THE CLOUD SAID,
“JOHNNY BOY, I GOT YOUR PERMANENT ADDRESS”
AND A LOVED ONE THINKS OF HER INNER SANCTUM
THE HOLY OF HOLIES—THAT RING OF FIRE
*I know a visionary, John of Patmos (all things hold together with the living glue)
__________________________________________________________________
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DON’T STAND UNDER THE CIRCUMCISION TREE DON’T STAND UNDER THE CIRCUMCISION TREE DON’T STAND UNDER THE CIRCUMCISION TREE DON’T STAND UNDER THE CIRCUMCISION TREE
DEEDS THAT JOHNNY BOY HAS LEFT UNDONE
GOOD-BYES NOT SPOKEN
THE DIRTY MIRROR—TOO LAZY TO CLEAN OFF THE ADAM AND EVE
SEXUAL PLACENTA FRESH FROM UTERINE INTERCOURSE
YOUR RECTAL ANECDOTES AT BREAKFAST
YOUR SAWDUST FARTS
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BRAVE ENOUGH TO SAY, “TOO LAZY TO CLEAN OFF THE ADAM AND EVE”
NAKED CHILD-ANGELS IN KENTUCKY
DOWN SYNDROME IN SHORT PANTS
HAIRS OF MOUNT SINAI
UNDER CLEAR TAPE
FOR $5 SHE WOULD DISPLAY HER PRONOUN
NOT WITHHOLD HER SECRET, HER ONLY SECRET
HOLY GROUND WITH A DIVINE OPENING
STRICT BOUNDS, LADDY—THE CROSSROADS OF DOWN-THERE
FOR $5 MORE, ONE COULD GO NORTH OR SOUTH
OR CHITCHAT FOR 35 MINUTES ABOUT ISAIAH AND EZEKIEL
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Emily and her fake biographers – you get what you pay for – a truck full of unwanted Bibles rip for the pulping
– spelling mistakes
– incorrect symbolism
-sins
the E in Emily is 5
stories of the handless poet
painters make their own colours
poets make their owns words
the cold is coming in
grannies fingers ache from the knitting needles –
27 mile long scarf
LEVIATHAN WILL BECOME THE PHOENIX
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RUMOR HAS IT THAT YOUR BIRTH CERTIFICATE IS 27 MILES LONG
5 MILES OF EMPTY CHECK BOXES FOR DIFFERENT DEGREES OF EFFEMINATE
I CHECKED THE ASEXUAL BOX TWICE
CAUSE I DO NOT WANT CONTACT WITH NO STINKING SEXUAL ORGANS
CAN YOU IMAGINE THE FILTH FROM PEE AND POOP ?
PEOPLE SHOULD WEAR MULTIPLE PAIRS OF UNDERWEAR
I SAW A NUDIST MAGAZINE ONCE AND FAINTED
MICK JAGGER SAID THAT BIOLOGICAL SEX WAS LIKE RIDING A BICYCLE
TWO ORIENTATION WHEELS AND A GENDER-BENDER SEAT
HE LEFT OUT THE SNAKES AND CESSPOOLS
AT FIRST ONE THINKS OF PEANUT BUTTER
ON SECOND THOUGHT, IT ISN’T PEANUT BUTTER
IDENTITY SHOULD NEVER BE LINKED TO THE SMELL OF A BARN
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Florida looks like the flaccid cock of bloated America dangling into the ocean – under palm trees
– shadows of former life’s
Crockett and Tubbs
your birth certificates authenticity is much debated – blank spaces – small clues – a well fingered document yielding more questions then answers
christened in formative years by a priest on a bike –
your first TV appearance as a kid in a quiz show – big money prizes missed due to inability to spell APPALACHIANS – the salty tears of 7years old
bobby prizes of alligator teeth
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SHOCKED THAT YOU DIDN’T MENTION THAT I WAS RAISED IN A CHARNEL HOUSE OF SACRED BONES…A CHILDHOOD OF SKELETONS…PAPER-MACHE MASKS…IMPLICIT AND EMOTIONAL
MEMORIES…EMOTIONAL TRANSFERENCES…CHEATING…PLAGIARISM…TICCING…JABBERING
…MARRIED WOMEN…STREAMS OF MARRIED WOMEN…ANGELIC PILLS….EZEKIEL…
DEPENDENCE…THE ARK OF THE COVENANT…TRUMPET BLASTS…UNCLEAN LIPS
BURNING BUSHES ON MOUNT SINAI…SELF-REVELATION…PERPETUAL MASTURBATION…
SELF-ABASEMENT FIRST CLASS…MYSTERIOUS JISM…UNVEILED GENITALS
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——————IT IS TRUE—————-
THE ALLIGATOR TEETH WERE NOT ALLIGATOR TEETH
THEY PROBABLY DIDN’T COME FROM A GRAVEYARD
—————————————————–
POETRY AS A CAREER ? (REALLY, JOHNNY BOY)
THE MANY-SIDEDNESS OF JOHNNY BOY
MEMORABLE SONGS AND BEAUTY MASTERED
TRACES OF GEOMETRY
YOUR SCHOOLBOY COMPASS
THOSE HELLO KITTY PUSH PINS
PANTS MADE FROM CURTAINS
CHRISTMAS CARDS FROM NORMAN’S MOTHER
PETTY REALITIES WITH BOOZE
YOU ARE ALREADY REHEARSING THE WORDS
THE AUCTIONEER OF PARTING
MAY HAVE RIPPED YOU OFF
SOLD YOU SHORT
UNAVOIDABLY DOWNWARD
DOWN, DOWN, A PIANO IN THE COFFIN
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DANGERS OF LIBIDO SUPPRESSION
A PIANO IN THE COFFIN
SERIOUSLY, A PIANO IN THE COFFIN ?
CONSEQUENT DEVELOPMENTS
I DARE SPEAK NOT
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TO SUPPRESS TOO SEVERELY HUMAN IMPULSES
LAUGHTER AND BLASPHEMY FROM THE BEDROOM
NEW FOOTING IN THE PINK OPENING
THE COFFIN OF LOVE
THE FORBIDDEN FOLDS
OF THE FRUIT TREE
THE FREUDIAN HOLE
* a place of darkness—nothing known (wound of resemblance)
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SUPREME INTOXICATION—THE INTERIOR OF THE ROSE
WISH FULFILLMENT, TASTING THE FORBIDDEN FRUIT
CURIOSITY TO THE POINT OF OBSESSION
THE DRAMATIC HAND
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS
LONGING TO RETURN TO THE WOMB
TO FEED THE WORMS OF SEXUALITY
NIGHT-DARKNESS WITH SEEDS OF LIGHT
COUPLED WITH BRIGHT RED EROS
MARRIED TO A FLESHLESS PELVIS
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fleshless pelvis and a conversation about you
what you say and what you write
a criminal in bed
skin crawls
orthopedic
in nature
ostrich crust
tattoo stains
couth or uncouth ?
EMILY DICKINSON AND THE FLESHLESS PELVIS
DRESSED-UP CONVERSATIONS
ABOUT MICHAEL JACKSON
THAT HE MAKES YOUR SKIN CRAWL
??? PUBLICLY PICK HIS NOSE ???
A FINGER IN THE TAKE-OUT LANE
SNOT FOR THE EDUCATED PALATES
MIGHTY UNCOMFORTABLE
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MISNAMED ADULT FILMS
EMILY DICKINSON AND HER APPARATUS
THE BULB OF NO RETURN
THEY HAD TO TURN THE CAMERA AWAY
ALLEGEDLY CRIMINAL PEE SCENES
WHICH EQUALS JAIL TIME IN AMERICA
*you know that in her mind she was fabricating love scenes
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SMOTHERING THE SHAME
—————IN HUMAN SKIN
NAMELESS RELATIVES
SLOWDOWNS
LIBIDO SUPPRESSION
WHO WAS I TO QUESTION THE FORESKIN TREE ?
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somewhere in the world
everyday a burns victim has discarded foreskin grafted on to their face – their back –
the foreskin tree continually giveth
and you recognise them by the stray pubic hair that hangs
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GOOD GOD, HOW CAN I SLEEP KNOWING THAT OUTSIDE THE BEDROOM WINDOW PEOPLE ARE WALKING BY WITH FORESKIN FACES ?
OR THAT I MIGHT HAVE KISSED FORESKIN LIPS IN THE DARK
FORESKINS INVADING OUR PRIVATE THOUGHTS
WHAT NEXT—FLYING COMMAS ?
WITHHOLDING AND THEN PROMISES OF WITHDRAWAL
JISM SEED IN THE PANTIES….LACKING CRITICAL SKILLS
LEMON JUICE IN THE SEASHELL
SLICES OF LEMON IN THE SLOT
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LEMON JUICE IN THE SEASHELL
SLICES OF LEMON IN THE SLOT
DISTINCTION BETWEEN INSIDE AND OUTSIDE
PULL OUT LONG BEFORE THE EXPLOSION
RAW MATERIALS AWAY FROM THE TRIANGLE
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lemon juice in the wound
vinegar in the gash
pulp red flesh
curtains open
squinting eye looking into the sun
liver and assorted off cuts
we feed off anything in these days of austerity
get it where you can
just turn the lights off and think of velvet
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philanthropist floating above the charred carcass of Leviathan –
plotting plans for a shanty town slum – a new darktown for the workers –
the dead circus,
forlorn rides
a solitary clown wanders the town
his big shoes casting long shadows;
a handful of dead balloons
like spent condoms
, stretched and worn,
forlorn and hanging
limp
and spent
a train passes by sounding like a last gasp
lung rattle
hourly pay for seasonal work
CHRISTMAS TREE SALESMAN AND ONE TRICK PONIES
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I’ve been drinking
in the company of heroes
across the graves of murdered children
in the pissing rain
I’ve been seduced by the latex scream of big teeth and the distance between
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EXPECTATION FOR TRUE RHYME
THINKING OF VELVET IN THE DARK
POETRY WRESTLES WITH THE HAND
ANATOMY AND GEOLOGY
COURTSHIP AND SEDUCTION
UNWILLING TO SQUANDER
THINKING OF THE NARROWEST POSSIBLE GASH
MUTILATED BEYOND GOD’S CRAFT
LUBE AND FUNCTION
OPTIMISTIC JISM
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STEAMING, ARTERY-CLOGGING ROAST BEEF WOMEN
ON TWO LEGS
EVENTUAL MARRIAGE SURROUNDED BY BROKEN GLASS
A POTENTIAL HUSBAND WANTED
LIKE A RUSTY NAIL IN THE FOOT
A 1000-LEG BUG IN THE EAR
DISEASED SAUSAGE FROM CALIFORNIA
———————the sound of grinding brakes
THE WORD: IMPREGNATED
AT FAMILY MEALS
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FOR A LONG TIME IT SOUNDED FALSE
AND THEN THE MOVE INTO THE LIVINGROOM
CONFESSIONAL BLANKETS AND PILLOWS
EVERYONE KNEW
NO MORE DOMESTIC SEX
LONG TRIPS AND LACED COFFEE
COMEDY AND TRAGEDY
AND NOODLING GIRLS
CONFESSIONAL POETRY
CONVERSATIONAL POETRY
LOCKS WITH NO KEYS
CLOCKS WITH NO HANDS
SOAKED WITH SWEAT IN FLORIDA
SOAKED WITH RAIN IN FORKS
EMILY WITH HER KIDNEY DISEASE
YOKO WITH HER BIRD LICE
POOR JOAN ON A DIRT DIET
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the scared cows of Emily and Yoko are now l
varicose veins corn beefed legs
lame ducks now
– and remember Joan??
old Joan,
the grand dame
she of many faces now cold and under – a 1000 bugs inside and outside her now – feasting
chocking on her non-biodegradable face – the divorce from this world –
a mouth full of soil
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—————————SHE————————–
SHE WASHED THE WINDOW THIS MORNING
NOW OCCUPATIONAL INSTABILITY IS VISIBLE
DAMN !!!
ALL THOSE THINGS MIRED IN THE PAST
WILL BE KNOCKING AT THE DOOR
THE PEOPLE NEXT DOOR GOT A VISIT
FROM SEXUALLY TRANSMITTED DISEASES
I TOLD MYSELF IT WAS FIREWORKS EXPLODING
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zero recognition of the work
no acknowledgement of the efforts and blood sweated – nothing –
pissing in the wind &
climbing hedgerows
knee snagged on branches
taking up with a new lover
a younger muse
she demanded all property be retuned – Christmas gifts and birthday presents – she had an inventory
her solicitor smoked meth at the weekends
colouring books coloured outside the lines – sharp pencils rip the page layer after layer the medication will take a few days to take effect
3kilos of nakedness
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TODAY I WAS TRYING TO USE A HAMMER INSTEAD OF A MOUSE TO COMMUNICATE WITH THE COMPUTER—–A HAMMER CAN BE AN INDISPENSABLE CATALYST—–MANY TIMES I HAVE HAD TO SECRETLY DO AWAY WITH PERSONALITIES AND TEMPERAMENTS—–JUST PART OF BEING EMPLOYED—–STATES OF MENTAL DISEASE——LIFE GOES BEYOND SOFT-SKIN ARMADILLOS
—–PRAY TOMORROW WILL BE A MILDER VERSION OF TODAY—–I CAN HEAR JOAN CRY
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I KNOW THE WOMAN YOU SPEAK OF
THE ONE WHO DEMANDS THE RETURN OF ALL GIFTS
AND I MEAN ALL GIFTS
NOT JUST THE BIGGER ONES
BUT NO GIFT TOO SMALL
*I saw her one day counting pubic hairs (very odd)
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HOW MANY TIMES CAN ONE WRITE POETRY
ABOUT FREUD’S DAUGHTER
FRENCH-KISSING
STALIN AND MUSSOLINI ?
NERVOUS INDIGESTION
TONY BLAIR TUNES
DERIVED FROM A DESIRE
TO SURVIVE DEATH
*try to drive at night
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the song played at her funeral was some experimental drone metal – one note played until she was in the earth –
longest hour of the priests life –
those at the side of the grave wore masks and threw dirt –
autopsy revelations revealed:
– a spleen the shape of Montana
– an extra set of teeth
– a scale model of the Hindenberg made form matchsticks lodged behind her third lung
never picked up on X-rays in her living years –
after life anomalies you don’t get told about
life is all in the small print
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OFTEN WARNED ABOUT THE DANGER OF DRONE MUSIC
MACHINE-MADE SOUNDS OF NAIL HAMMERING
WORKSHOP DRONE MUSIC
NOT DISTURBED BY PROFANE FINGERS
OR FILTHY LIPS
STICKY AND CRUSTED
JUST CLEAN MANUFACTURED SOUND
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DRONE MUSIC IS SUBTERRANEAN FIRE TORN
BETWEEN EARTHQUAKES AND VOLCANOES
FROM AGE TO AGE—THE CRUEL EROSION
NOAH ON THE LOUDSPEAKER
MAYHEM IS ON THE CALENDAR
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DANCERS BUSY WITH JAZZ HANDS
NOAH ON THE LOUDSPEAKER
DADDY, THE ROOF IS GONNA SHAKE
HAIL STONES AND BRIMSTONE
AND A WHOLE BIG HELPING
OF THAT EXPERIMENTAL
DRONE FUNK
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WHICH DIRECTION—PRO-LIFE OR PRO-DEATH ?
—————-FRANK ZAPPA OR KLAUS SCHULZE ?
AND THEN A SIMPLE ANSWER FROM BRITISH PARLIAMENT
DRONE MUSIC———-JUST OLD FASHIONED DRONE MUSIC
MODERN MAN WITH THE THROAT OF A METAL BIRD
THE MACHINES CONTINUE TO SING
AS ALL HUMAN LIFE COMES TO A HALT
HUMAN SUFFERING NO MORE
HEAVEN SMELLS LIKE A BAD EGG
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drone
drone the machines of metal drone along her nails long talons dragged down a blackboard cutting through words – Lou Reed and his metal machine –
trawling space and discovering photos – men in shorts and green fields – there is
space
on this island –
old men in seats of power Dylan tshirts at the flea market –
flea ridden old time religion – the rivets have come loose the wind is ripping through shanty towns –
tap dancers sending messages with their feet
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NO TIME TO TRAWL DEAR BOY
DETECTIVES DO THE WORK
AGENTS HACK AND SELL
DIRECTION—EXECUTION ???
24hr METAL SOUNDS
GOTHIC CRADLE ENDLESSLY ROCKING
BABY FRANKENSTEIN WITH PRECURSORS
AMIDST THE NOISE, LENGTH AND HEIGHT
EXALTERS OF SWERVE
ANGELS WAITING FOR US
IN SOME FUTURE ABODE
*excluding Forks, Washington from the imaginings
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Frankenstein came with receipts , caveats, cravats
and a new suit –
given the keys to the Curie house –
a Kodiak bear as a pet on a short leash –
invites to the next seance are in the post –
modern man plugged into distraction tenuous links
bonds are broken
branches snapped
family dynamic disturbed
(things will happens that our out of your control)
all headlines are flarf
cut and paste
take it with a pinch of salt
a spoonful of sugar
and when she died it came as no surprise – they will burn her but not as a witch
—————————–
my favourite band have reformed
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ALL SMALL PRINT SHOULD GO TO CHARITABLE DISPOSAL
GOODBYE TO WHISKEY AND WHISKEY FACE-HOLES
FREE OF THE BOOZE OF REPRESSION
ALCOHOL IS THE SWEAT FROM THE SWASTIKA
A SADDLE OF BRITISH WAY AND PURPOSE
FOR THE GOLDEN CALF
HOVERING IN THE WIND
POETS OF THE LITERARY LUNCHEONS
CYBERPUNK POETS COATED WITH TAWDRY SPLENDOR
I DRIVE THE WOODEN STAKES
WHERE THEIR HEARTS SHOULD BE
I SILENCE THE SINGING BIRDS
HADES HAS NO VOICE
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no one laughs – it’s a forgotten joy – muscle grow weak from underuse –
a nation of fat people
atrophy wobble all the way to the you can eat buffets
MEAT
MEAT
CHEAP MEAT
not like this during days of rations – sawdust sandwiches
saddle of beef = a black rock painted brown
boiled beef and rotting teeth
the girl on stilts at the circus in conclave to appoint the new king
—————————————–
cyberpoet is a title he gave himself and has no validity or meaning
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I TRIED TO MAIL YOU MARY MAGDALENE
AS A PEACE OFFERING
BUT THERE WERE PROBLEMS AT THE POST OFFICE
THE LADY SAID THAT THINGS
WERE SPINNING
ABOVE MY HEAD
SHE WAS A WITNESS
JAGGED SHADOWS
PERFECT FAMILIARITY
————JEHOVAH’S WITNESSES (SNAKE-HANDLERS)
SWINDLERS GALORE
TWISTED POSTAGE
THE POSTAL SYSTEM GORGING ITSELF
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BEEN SLEEPING IN THE LAND OF LUNATICS
OUTSIDE STREETS OF WASTED WORDS
STRANGE BLOOD
EMILY IN HER FLOOR-LENGTH SKIRT
HER PUBLIC CODE OF DRESS
DEVIATIONS IN THE CROTCH
HER INTERCOURSE OPENING
REINFORCED
SOMEDAY HER PECKER
WOULD GROW
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does anyone use post offices these days?
Future boy – Omega Zf15 – will never experience the joy of waiting in line to post a parcel –
he will never hold a pen
or write a letter – relics gone the way of the dodo –
– the thing that was spinning above your head was a WalMart halo –
the Jehovah Witnesses stand in the shadows holding pamphlets in their hands – no hard sell
just ghostly silence
standing still like rocks
they need a brand refresh
an overhaul
sex it up a bit – JWv.01
turn the watchtower into a nightclub
snort drugs off cardboard replicas of the 10 Commandments
—————————————–
old time religion
snake-handlers with venom in their veins
antidotes available of the dark net for cheap price
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crouch deviations have left stragglers lost in the hinterland of her thighs
– tangled in the bush
– a man with two dicks
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(An aside…)
half the stuff is written on busses shifting between home and work – looking at the back of other peoples heads –
the world seen from a window – words written standing still at bus stops
or sitting on the toilet evading time
new buildings have been erected while I have watched – observing stationary like a sniper –
experimental jazz riffs
under the influence
underwater vision blurs all the edges
Beefheart dreams with Dr John
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CAREFUL WHERE YOU WALK
UNMARRIED WOMEN ARE DYING
AND LEAVING THEIR BODIES
TO NATURE
(SEX NOT PERMITTED EXPRESSION)
WITH NO RELIGION THE CHURCH EXPIRES
UNQUESTIONING
YOU GOTTA BE UNQUESTIONING
SKEPTICISM LEADS TO FOREPLAY
HOW ABOUT A SWIG FROM SUBMISSION ?
DISTILLATION FROM ENDLESS INDIVIDUALS
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SEX NOT PERMITTED EXPRESSION
THERE IS A TON OF IT
ALONG THE HIGHWAYS
IT TAKES CONSIDERABLE MEANS
AND A STRONG PERSONALITY
TO STAY IN THE CLEAR
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“RENOUNCE THE WORLD”
STEP OUT OF THE DISTILLATION LINE
DON’T LOOK BACK AT YOUR SHELTERED IMAGINATION
DON’T TAKE A SWIG OF SUBMISSION
OUTPOURINGS TAKE FORM IN POETRY
DEPTHS AND VARIETY BEYOND THE HONEYMOON
RAREFIED JOHNNY BOY—TO BE RECEIVED NOT REVIEWED
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the works was renounced
deleted & expunged
evicted from the sheltered place
submission on the honeymoon night – give in flight or fight?
– black eye, but what shade?
resurfaced from the depths with seaweed hair
rarefied since birth copywrited daily
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SHE DISLOCATED THE WORD FROM ITS DICTIONARY MEANING
(SOUNDS FROM THE HUNGRY CEMETERY)
DIFFICULTY DETERMINING
DEFEAT OR DEATH ?
——————————————
——————————————
WORDS FROM THE HONEYMOON:
MONOTONOUS
MECHANICAL
INFLEXIBLE
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(SOUNDS FROM THE HUNGRY CEMETERY)
SUGGESTING ADHESIVE LOVE
TWO LOVERS STUCK TOGETHER
THE PULSE OF SEX
IN SHOWING THEMSELVES
STRONG HEART-FLOW
PRIVATE AFFECTION AND FONDNESS
CHILDHOOD KISSING—WINDED AND TWISTED
ADULT CRITICS HALF-HEARTEDLY FAIL
ILLEGITIMATE FINGERS AND TOES
ITALIAN GIGOLO CIGARETTES
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PHYSICAL AND PSYCHOLOGICAL DISPLACEMENT
LIKE A DICTIONARY WORD AND ITS MEANING
OPPOSITION IN POETRY
INTRODUCTORY CRISIS
AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL
STRONG WORDS
———-SHE, WITH HER ARTFUL REARRANGEMENT
———-OF YOUR LIFE
I CAN NO LONGER SEE YOU IN THE UNDERGROWTH
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ON THE POET BUS HEADING TO THE POET FAIR
POETS WERE LICKING ARMPITS
TALK OF AROMATIC CEDAR, LAUREL, CHESTNUT
HOMOSEXUAL FLAVORS—UNTRODDEN BY STRAIGHTS
SOME OF THE OLDER MEN WERE CRYING
HONESTY AND REVELATION AND WHITMAN
AT ONE TIME THEY HAD BEEN YOUNG
NEW ERECTIONS AND SCENTED HERBAGE
—-PAGES TORN FROM THE DIARY—-
REPRESSED SELF
WITH A TIGHT MASK
PERPETUAL UNFULFILLMENT
QUESTIONABLE ADHESIVENESS
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GRAPPLE WITH THE PROBLEMS
OF APPEARANCES
AS TONGUES LICK YOUR ARMPITS
GROUNDED IN THE RECOGNITION
OF MULTIPLE MEN
PERSONAL SATISFACTION ON TOP
OF THE LIST
CURIOSITY RESOLVED
ON THE WAY TO THE FAIR
THE POETS TOUCH BASE
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the hungry cemetery devours the dead
swallows them whole
– the belly of the beast
– the dirt thrown on top, frozen ground, forecasted snow
the stillness of the cemetery
hip hop priest spitting sermons
buried with the flarf machine – skeletal words now free of the past – skin eaten away & the bones remain
the first erection scared him
the first ejaculation and he thought he’d broke it running to him mother with globules dripping
his mother laughing
the redness of her mouth
teeth, stained and a tongue that could sweep the jackals nest
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the vampires will come out tonight we will watch and wait
no crucifixes or silver buletts
we will wait
we will grapple with the problems of appearance:
my beard, his squint, a third nipple, her languid gaits,
the girl with the limp
the four corners of the town have been explored
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BUDS ON THE TWIGS YET UNOPENED
TO DIE WITHOUT BEARING FRUIT
ENDLESS YEARS OF DNA
COMING TO A HALT
NOT A SINGLE YOUNG MICHAEL
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the buds are frozen as the cold sweeps in – Russian winters and permafrost beards – cold buds encased in cold waiting on the drip drip
drip of the thaw –
the world is weeping
this is meting
the tube that giveth has been severed
balls swollen to the size of basketballs
cowboy strut
feeling like a Christmas turkey on Boxing Day,
plucked till nothing remains
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“PLUCKED TILL NOTHING REMAINS”
PLOT OR SUBPLOT ?
KENTUCKY BEING ON THE SPRING VACATION LIST
FREE OF THE MORAL CODE BURDEN
PULSES OF POWER
WHITE SKIN YOUTH
HERCULES
TO THE LEFT
TO THE RIGHT
UNTHINKABLE METH
BAROQUE PLEASURES
DOMESTIC BLISS ON THE ROAD
HAPPINESS NOT YET IMPOSSIBLE
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LANGUAGE… LUSH IN KENTUCKY
MELODRAMATIC…..SENTIMENTAL
36 HOUR DAYS, NERVOUS AND JUMPY
ALWAYS IN TOUCH WITH PRIMITIVE SOURCES
CONFESSIONAL POETRY—OMG, LOST INNOCENCE
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the 36 hour day, standardised in Leviathan time, clocks go forward and back, a new sense of now –
confessional tones of the needy-
but don’t reveal to much –
hidden away like Nazi gold
– the made up Facebook statues
– the photoshopped wedding picture
– the ink still wet on the forgery
life lived vicariously through others
never leaving the house
life on line
no coverage in Kentucky
no coverage in Kentucky
a dead drop
a headlock
unthinkable meth & complex maths
everything needs a starting point
a ground zero
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surprise surprise a thousand photos posted online – images in images – the voodoo that can’t be explained
these strange bedfellows
in UFOs circling remote parts
your hometown
beeping on a radar seen through multiple eyes
that man struck by lightening 14times – his nervous tic
the cows in a field
the blade of grass uncut and wet
I am an astronaut because of you
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UNNAMED AND SEXUALLY UNDIFFERENTIATED BELOVED
the lady at the airline became “concerned” at my request
for 2 plane tickets to Kentucky
I told her that my friend and I were 100% American
that we were free citizens located in a free country
people who were exercising their freedom
a freedom won by the countless deaths of relatives and countrymen
a freedom paid for by hard-earned wages
UNNAMED AND SEXUALLY UNDIFFERENTIATED BELOVED
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—————-IN LEVIATHAN TIME———–
FELLOW WORKERS AT THE PLANT
OFTEN QUESTIONED BASIC ISSUES
OF SEXUAL DEFINITION
TROUBLED DREAMS—IMAGES OF HANDS
WARM SOFT HANDS
SKINNY HARD HANDS
HANDSHAKES BY ONESELF
HANDSHAKES WITH LIKE-MINDED CHAPS
CONSTANT FEAR OF MATRIMONY
ANYTHING REMINISCENT
OF MOM AND DAD
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UNTHINKABLE METH AND COMPLEX MATH
WONDERFUL THINGS TO FIND
UNDER THE CHRISTMAS TREE
CONVENTIONAL LANGUAGE WITH NO COVERAGE
KENTUCKY SUFFERS A DECLINE IN EVOLUTION
BORDER CROSSINGS ARE DIFFICULT AT BEST
GOD HELP YOU IF YOUR PARTNER
IS SEXUALLY UNDIFFERENTIATED
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she wouldn’t hand over the tickets – passports were seized
they wanted fingerprints and asked me to remove my shoes –
barefoot on the concourse
no weapons concealed between my toes**
in a dark room
away from the other rooms
they told me the maths didn’t add up
they smoked cigarettes to the nub
they said the place I described didn’t exist
( a jet fuel stench )
i drew them a map
X marked the spot
they gave me coffee which I never drunk
“I’m an Englishman” I said “from the land of satanic mills”
—————————————-
*written on a bus as the world tried to wake up
**true story
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FATIGUE REMINISCENT OF THE VACANT GIRL
NOW EXPANDED TO A CATHEDRAL
SEA LEVEL CHANGES
TRAUMATIC
WHAT WAS BEING SAID
ONLY THE LARGEST OF JETS
AND THEN SHE HAD TO SIT IN THE MIDDLE
ONE TIME SHE REMOVED HER SHOES
AND PEOPLE FAINTED AROUND HER
HER SEX WET AND LOUD LIKE VAUDEVILLE
BRISTLES AND MECHANICAL FLAPS
THE SEPARATION, THE GAP, PECULIAR
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she took me from exhibition to exhibition – we looked at faces of people from 500 years ago – fat naked woman – still life of rotting fruit – landscapes and windmills
and then installations with cutlery, wooden
moving things
, cine films of car crashes and kids playing on swings,
– the vagaries of what was on view, no starting point
just interpretation
commentary in Germanic,
French –
all them countries
a $45 souvenir programme in the gift shop
eye fatique daily from looking at all this
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ENDLESS FILMS OF CAR CRASHES AND KIDS PLAYING ON SWINGS
GOVERNMENT SPONSERED DISTRACTIONS
A CHAOTIC JUMBLE OF WORDS CALLED POETRY
DEAD POETS HANGING IN TREES
THEIR PARACHUTES RECYCLED
INTO CURTAINS AND FANCY PANTS
SERVICEMEN FROM THE STATES
READY TO DIE FIGHTING FOR THEIR COUNTRY
NEVER TO EDUCATE TO DOCTOR STATUS
OR MAKE RHINOCEROS-LIKE NOISES
DURING SEX
—————————————————–
A STRANGE NONHUMAN STREAM OF WORDS
A POETRY MACHINE ?
WORDS, CHARACTERS, SYMBOLIC FIGURES
POSTCARDS FROM THE TOWER OF BABEL
SINNED AND SIGNED
DAVID BOWIE
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it wasn’t the fall that killed most parachutists – broken necks hanging from trees strange fruit – behind enemy lines in
the age of Aquarius
secret societies promoting obsolete practices carnal and biblical –
balm applied liberally to sooth
the crushed teenage lust of those nostalgic walks through memories
in the grounds of the cheateau
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trying to keep some self respect loses all meaning when you’re found naked on a dirt trail
backwoods
Kentucky
ripped jeans and a patchy memory
her breasts, alabaster & heavy in hand, granite thighs, dull eyes
david b and his new face
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DAVID B AND HIS NEW FACE
VERSIONS OF JUDAS
IF ONE LIVES LONG ENOUGH
MONSTROUS BUBBLES
FROM THE REAR
CABBAGE TO BLAME
DAVID B IN ROLLING STONE
TALKING ABOUT ANAL
BEHIND THE FAMOUS WALL IN CHINA
AND GOD THE READER READING
GIVES HIM A NEW FACE
A NEW NUMBER
A FARTHER SEAT AWAY FROM ROYALTY
NO LONGER SEATED NEXT TO ELTON JOHN
IMAGES OF THE ANCIENT DAVID B TAKEN DOWN
CDS AND DVDS TOSSED TO THE GUTTER
ALBUMS MELTED DOWN TO MAKE CORN FLAKES
OR SOME OTHER BREAKFAST CERAL
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RUMOR HAS IT THAT I WAS FOUND NAKED
ON A TRAIL IN THE BACKWOODS OF KENTUCKY
——-THE ONLY REAL CRIME
WAS HOW MUCH I HAD TO PAY
FOR THE EXPERIENCE
PERPLEXED STUDS AT THE FEED STORE
WERE HAPPY TO GET THE CASH MONEY
THEY HAD BEEN TO THE CIRCULAR ROOM BEFORE
SOMETIME IN THE PAST
OR WAS THAT A MOVIE ?
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david b always seen near the landing sights – look, behind a tree,
atop that silo,
in the distance looking back at you –
between 1973 and 1981 he survived on a diet of milk and cocaine –
thin like a margin in a book –
lived in the back of a limousine
US immigration would never let him in due to Berlin heroin phase –
fear of corrupting the young
Iggy Lou & Dave
the right side of the wall
he laughed at Eltons fake hair “Mines all real”, he’d mock from another dimension
mutated mutation in the reinvention machine
126 different hairstyles in a day
Bavid Dowie on the TV screen screen
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IT DOESN’T SEEM FAIR TO LAUGH AT FAKE HAIR
TONGUE-TIED WITH THE TASTE OF FAKE HAIR
WEEDWACKER PLASTIC THREAD FAKE HAIR
PUZZLING AND POINTLESS FAKE HAIR
HAIR THAT THE NEIGHBOR’S CAT
SLEPT ON FOR TWO WEEKS
HAIR WITH A VOICE
NARRATIVE HAIR
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all hair has a narrative
a DNA storyline –
a secret stored on a strand –
the Nazis stored hair in sacks
if it was today
they’d sell it online
– the poor have wigs made from the hair of the dead –
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TERRIBLY UNPALATABLE
HAIR GONE ORAL
FROM HORSES AND KODIAK BEARS
INVESTIGATORS AND DETECTIVES
A CHARMING CRYPTOGRAPHER
PHYSICAL DETAILS
PERPETUAL TONGUE
HARD-TO-FAKE PHALLUS
FLAGSHIP HAIR
AROUND THE EIFFEL TOWER
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IT MAY NOT BE EASY
BUT SOMEHOW TONIGHT
A LIGHT WILL SHINE ON
HARD-TO-FAKE PHALLUS
FLAGSHIP HAIR
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HER SEX WET AND LOUD LIKE VAUDEVILLE
BRISTLES AND MECHANICAL FLAPS
SYMBOLIC MEANING OF THE LITERAL
WHAT A BUG
DAMN BROWN BELLY
WITH NUMEROUS LEGS
A MACKINTOSH FOR THE STICKY
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I COULD SEE THE OPEN DOOR
SIGNS OF IRRITATION
GUILTY
NO LESS A FISH OUT OF WATER
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SOMEONE COUGHED AND I THOUGHT OF THE DONGS
ON GREEK STATUES
THE BLUE-BLACK BULLS WERE GRAZING ON ETERNITY
I WAS STUCK IN THE STRUGGLE OF YOUTH
SELF-SCRUTINY
ALONE AT NIGHT WITH GRAMMAR
MY HAND WAS THE EXECUTIONER
OF MY SEX LIFE
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single lines blend and merge so the thread gets lost in a ball of tangles knotted and garrotted
the idea of linear time –
knotted pubis
Rastafarian regions
**I took something to make me last longer and I wanked till I bled –
it wasn’t pleasant –
I was the guinea pig –
a mix of jets and spurts –
it fluctuated
empty sac
dried blood
(not as bad as it sounds)
time is a great healer –
—————————————–
**in front of the mirrors I could only focus on the dust and cobwebs In the corner of the room
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**spreadsheet rebellion from the new proletariat –
changing of the guard
changing of the formula –
Marx was right
Marx was wrong
and under the dust dancing cover of lampshade night she told me her favourite terrorist group was Badder Meinhoff and she had a soft spot for the Red faction and they turned her on
to the left
and a line was drawn
and she listened to Can
and Krautrock
and she did stuff that involved needles
and she only wore BLACK
BLACK BLACK
mattresses for beds
and sheets for curtains
and orange stained nicotine fingers
and it was just a phase
and I woke with her teeth
red marking my skin
outlines of molars and morning stains the wall covered in graffiti the excitement of rebellion
——————————————
the confusion of too many open doors –
choice is the grand wizard of depression
**written on a train passing a church older than then the concept of your nation (I want to retire to Hard-on Central)
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—————SHE
EPHEMERAL ATTEMPTS AT THE HOSPITAL
WHITECAPS ON THE LOWER LEVEL
THE CONSTANT RIDDLE OF HER GROIN
WILDLY SPRAWLING
A MOCKERY OF ANY PLAYBOY MAGAZINE
SHE NEVER SPOKE OF THE PENAL COLONY
OR ALL THOSE LEFT-WING AGENTS
I WAS A JESUS ENGINEER
BEAT INTO ME WITH A STICK AND A ROCK
WHIPPED TILL JESUS RETURNS
SIMPLE ENTHUSIASM WITH BALLOON-LUNGS
—————–SHE
WAS SHE VENUS ?
OR A PLASTIC MANNIKIN ?
UNCOVERED IN THE CURIE HOUSE
RADIATION UNDER THE SHELL
DROPS OF BLOOD FROM THE NAVEL
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THEY WERE SINGING A SONG “WHITE BELLIES BULGE”
SEX WITHOUT LOVE OR ERECTION WITHOUT MOTIVE
MODES OF PLEASURE—LIFE-GIVING SAP
LIKE A CONFUSED MAPLE TREE
SHE SAID THAT AROUND HERE
MEN HIDE THEIR ANIMAL
A THOUGHT REMEMBERED AT THE URINAL
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strange wartime memories (1) laying in mud (2) explosions throwing up earth (3) smell of munitions (4) the ground shaking violently (5) strange camber to the land (6) dead trees broken like snapped spines (7) the screams of people meeting death (8) parts of the body that should be inside, visible (9) vapour trails converge with clouds (10) the falling cheateau
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THE ANTS WERE CRAZY TALKING
ABOUT THE BREATH OF LIFE
BREATHED INTO THE NOSTRILS
THE SOIL BECAME A LIVING THING
*later in life, the land around the Curie house became something else
A GREAT GARDEN IRRIGATED WITH THE PEE AND POOP OF HEAVEN
GIANT VEGETABLES AND SUPER SWEET FRUIT
MAKES ONE REGRET THE DISOBEDIENT THING
A CLOSER LOOK PERHAPS
TERRITORIAL DISPUTES
ACCIDENTS IN RELIGION
A WHOLE CHAPTER ON DONG CUTTING
EARTH-CREATURES GALORE
BABYLONIANS HAD BASIC JAZZ
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———–SHE SAID THAT AROUND HERE
———–MEN HIDE THEIR ANIMAL
WHERE YOU SOWED YOUR SEED
FLUCTUATIONS
DROUGHT-PLAGUED
ONE ANOTHER MINUS ONE
PLEASE DON’T GET IT ON THE COVER
SATISFIED IN THE LAND OF THE DROUGHT ?
JOHNNY BOY THE WILD ANIMAL
HOW DO YOU REFLECT ON THE SWORD OF GOD ?
BRAMBLES AND THISTLES ON THE PILLOW
YOUR EYES ARE INHERITED
BOUNDARY MARKS ARE VISIBLE
LAUGH AND JOKE ABOUT YOUR CASH MONEY
BUT NOT ABOUT THE AFFAIRS OF HEART
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the once golden fruit of the Curie house, grown in the manure
this manna from heaven –
the mouth of the father –
missing molars and fillings
dribbling
juice of the fruit
a sticky sweet trail
hungry ants form a line
carry the carcass
across state lines
a drop in IQ
inside her
building a system of valleys and motorways
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she wanted to tell me about the 27th letter
the 6th vowel
she drew it in dust and blew it away
and she whispered about the hedge fund managers who were trying to sponsor the consonants
she shuddered as the weights and pulleys functioning inside
shifted gear
round here people inherit the wrong traits, of this
she was sure, history has shown her the patterns
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EMILY DICKINSON WAS COMPLETELY RIGID AND INFLEXIBLE
ONE COULD SMELL EXACT RHYME AND APPROXIMATE RHYME
SOMETIMES SHE WOULD SAY THAT THE 27th LETTER LOOKED LIKE AN UMBRELLA
THAT IT COULD ONLY SPEAK FOR ITSELF—PRONOUNCE ITSELF
INTERLINKED TERRORS AND WONDERS
INWARD AND OUTWARD
AMBERGRIS BROWN
FRAGRANT BROWN
EMILY HAD A DARK, TERRIFYING UNDERSIDE
SERPENTINES IN THE SHADOWS
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THE 27th LETTER
SWINDLING AND BUTCHERING
ON THE OUTSKIRTS OF LANGUAGE
—-WHAT… YOU’VE PRODUCED NO HERO ?
POETS AT HOME IN SERIOUS DANGER
SAD SONGS ON THE RADIO ABOUT REPRISAL
AN APPRECIABLE LACK OF COMMON SENSE ?
CONQUERED MALES FORCED TO PERFORM
IN TURNPIKE REST AREAS
PUERILE SKIRMISHES WITH SODOMY
THOUGHTS OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN
AND HIS FAMOUS MAN-SPONGE
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DELIBERATELY ARTIFICIAL LANGUAGE
HOW DOES ONE FIX THEIR MIND ON IT ?
LATER, JOHNNY BOY WILL REVEAL THE 27th LETTER
ABRAHAM LINCOLN AND EMILY DICKINSON
EACH A THOUSAND TIMES MORE IMPRESSIVE
THAN ONE COULD IMAGINE
SEDUCED AND SEDUCED AGAIN
DESPITE LIVING IN A CAGE
OF FREQUENT ASTOUNDING IMBECILITIES
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THANK GOD YOU HAVE FIRE-PROOF LEGS
—————————————————————
YOU WERE NAKED ABOVE THE WAIST
AND A BLUR DOWN BELOW
ENDLESS CLINICAL INFORMATION WASTED
CLINICAL MATERIAL—WET GOODS, SO TO SPEAK
JAZZ ON THE RADIO AND JOHNNY BOY
A RUBBIN’ HIS LEGS
PRAYING FOR A CONCLUSION
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A COMPLETE HALT TO ANYTHING AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL
——HOW MANY TIMES CAN ONE WHISPER, HOMO AMERICANUS ?
SUNDAY-SCHOOL FINGERS…TEN MINUTES AT THE MOST
COMPETENT IN ANATOMY AND STORE BOUGHT LUBE
REMEMBER THE GURGLE OF TERROR
AND THE CHEAP ICE CREAM ?
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YOU DOUBLE GLUE POETRY
TO THE RUBBERY SURFACE
OF WORDPRESS
THE BEAM OF NAZI LAMPS
FLOOD WASHINGTON DC
SEWER RATS
HELL-SENT SEWER RATS
DRINKING COCA-COLA
DRIVING AUTOMOBILES
RESIDENT POETS
GHOSTLY SCIENCE
LOCAL PROPONENTS
CURIE HOUSE LIQUOR
GLOWS IN THE TUMMY
KINDNESS AND THEN DEATH
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if there is a 27th* letter
it’s in a bank vault in Zurich – retina scanned safe behind metre thick metal – it has no release date
people wandered what was under Abrahams hat – was it a rod that went through his body and held him up?
was it filled with tiny keepsakes given with love?
the history book won’t say and counterfeit hats have appeared in auction house around the world – lacking in authenticity like the poems spat out by the flarf machine
——————————————
*some say it’s a mere plot device
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IT IS IMPOSSIBLE TO LOCATE ZURICH ON ANY MAP
LIKE TRYING TO FIND A BULLFIGHTER
IN KENTUCKY
MULTIPLE MICHAELS IN A PLURAL WHITE MARRIAGE
PEOPLE WHISPER ABOUT THE HOLY GROOM
NON-HUMANS ALMOST HUMAN
HEAVEN UP ABOVE
BUT PEOPLE SOULS NEVER GO THERE
NO LANGUAGE OR POETRY OR NOSE HAIRS
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WHEN IT COMES TO WHITE MARRIAGE
THERE IS NO RELEASE DATE
TUBERCULOSIS
COUGHING UP NUGGETS
HISTORY WITH ITS AWFUL LICKING
PHLEGM LIKE PORN STAR JISM
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Marriage an institution
like the asylum – padded cells and honeymoon mattresses – the phlegm like globules of meat liquor –
crack porn star grin under harsh lights
all the stars are fake
Bowie has a new idea
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TUBERCULOSIS
COUGHING UP NUGGETS
PHLEGM LIKE PORN STAR JISM
————————————————-
THE ORIGIN OF THINGS
THE FIRST MINUTE
THE FIRST DAY
*life will become a sweated industry
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naked below the waist censored and blocked out by tiny pixels – CCTV images leaked and available
somewhere online
the embarrassment of arriving early – wearing the Lincoln mask I felt invincible – I sit in a high backed chair and stare into a roaring fires –
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Zurich is on the map but I
I’ve never seen Kentuckian bullfighters –
(Kentuckians think bull fighting is a parlour game)
spearing bulls with poisoned arrows – waving red flags –
white flags of surrender covered in shit and snot –
semaphores misread
– the holy groom misinterpreted as holy broom –
sweep the confusion away – the marriage signature was fraudulent –
the sex wasn’t consensual
plaited nose hairs &
dreadlocks under her armpit
she was married on roller skates
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behind the heresies
anatomy from the backside
they called in the ghost of Bernard Shaw
“pull out your compass, Bernard
point north”
some folks were deprived of their Sunday beer
unventilated bloomers and lady-like belongings
visible rub-marks and neurotic stains
someone pointed out that Bernard Shaw
had jelly in his beard
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DIRTY SPOONS, SMOKE AND TOBACCO FUMES
CASH MONEY FROM A PAWNSHOP
POETRY AS A BUSINESS—DANGEROUS NO DOUBT
INTERESTING AND ORIGINAL—BEARABLE
MEN WHO CHEW MEAT OFF HIDE AND FUR
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A COMPLETE HALT TO ANYTHING AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL
CYNICAL JOKES AND OFF-COLOR COMMENTS
ONE QUESTION: ANY MONEY IN THE POCKET ?
A DAILY SCOLDING AFTER SCHOOL
DEGRADED BY SUSPICION
ACQUAINTANCES WITH GUNS
HELP MAKE BOTH ENDS MEET
*constant gossip
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a country with more guns then passports –
people who can’t find themselves on a map –
cynical about geography and other people –
literal interpretations of comic book plots – man and the dinosaurs
if she and I left at the same time we could meet in the middle –
merge into one
I traded three poems for a magic brand and two new ideas
in church, guilt by association
naked feet at the bottom of the cross
——————————————
last night I designed logos for companies that don’t exist
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sweetness and all her counterfeits
POETRY AT RANDOM
EXTERNAL WORDS
IN A MONTH-LONG STRUGGLE
SARDINE FARTS–TOUGH AND RAUCOUS
DODGED BEHIND BUSHES
AND THEN POTATO SALAD
*brown business
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THE DOCTOR ASKED ME WHAT WAS ON MY MIND
I SAID, “VISIBLE RUB-MARKS AND NEUROTIC STAINS”
WORDS TO EXASPERATE
ASSEMBLED WOMEN—PORCELAIN AND THISTLES
SHAPES AND FAULTY LOGIC
SHE SAID, “HERE ON EARTH I REMAIN”
HER MYSTERY LOCKED INTO ANIMAL FORM
NEVER TO CAST OFF THE BLASPHEMIES
*modified hooves and human knees
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SOME FOLKS WERE DEPRIVED OF THEIR SUNDAY BEER
UNVENTILATED BLOOMERS AND LADY-LIKE BELONGINGS
VISIBLE RUB-MARKS FROM THE DOCTOR VISIT
HOW LONG DID IT TAKE TO DISPLAY
YOUR INFLEXIBLE PATTERNS OF THOUGHTS ?
DEEPLY INGRAINED PATTERNS OF THOUGHTS ?
YOUR INABILITY TO CONTROL OR REGULATE IMPULSES ?
*men often ride bicycles on the road of no understanding consequences
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POETS BECOME CHAMELEONS
CURTAINS BECOME TROUSERS
FANCY CLOTH MAKES FANCY PANTS
FANCY PANTS AS A VEHICLE FOR THE PASSIONS
PROUD OF MY FANCY PANTS
I STOOD IN THE FORKS PARKING LOT
WASHED AWAY BY A NEURAL TSUNAMI
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PEPPERED WITH VIOLENT BURSTS
THE MASK OF SANITY CLOSE AT HAND
TOP-NOTCH NEAH BAY METH
FILTERED THROUGH THE PINK FISH
MILD CRAMP-LIKE INTERFERENCE
OTHERWISE, CLEAN HIGH-FUNCTIONING
ROCKET FUEL
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poets in clown trousers
driving clown cars where the doors falls off, size 19 clown shoes, lapel flower squirts human fluid and an electric hand buzzer that can short circuit a 1000 flarf machines –
curtains with trouser shapes cut out hang in the homes of the blind –
I’m proud of my trousers
I wear them everyday – clean or stained
my ammunition never rests
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mask of sanity is a mask after all, behind that it’s all madness,
frontal lobe firing like a piston,
then
a s l o w
reduction &
chemical imbalance
doesn’t bother the meth men at Forks
– glass pipes
– bubbling way
– bubbling under
– undertow dragging round angles
– amongst debris
– you can see the tsunamis over the horizon, tall as a fucking tall building
not all quiet on the western front all
invisible lines separate dark town
—————-
I’m never deprived of my Sunday beer, as an Englishman it’s my birthday right.
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THE ENDLESS TIMES YOU SHOULD HAVE INVESTED
IN CIRCLES—IN WHEELS—GOLD COINS
AND GOD THROWS LESIONS TO THE BRAIN
WHISPERS IN THE DARK:
———–GREATER WEALTH, STATUS, PRESTIGE
THERAPEUTIC INTERVENTION
SYNAPSE BY SYNAPSE
THE THERAPIST WITH HIS HAND DEFORMED
DNA SHRAPNEL
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HEIGHTENED ATTRACTION TO REWARDS
WALKING INTO DANGER
RATHER THAN AWAY FROM IT
HANGING THE MASK ON THE BEDPOST
*a glow reminiscent of the Curie Cure
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there is a tap in her
when turned the flood comes lost outside the Curie house the signposts mutated pointing in all directions she sold things for silver
and for gold
woke up in China in a room of therapists
missiles outside on the launchpad
masks on the bedpost
scribbles on notepads
double bluff and no status
woke up to a hallway of postcards
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I WANTED TO TALK ABOUT VOICE FREQUENCY ANALYSIS
MAD ABOUT SOMETHING—YOU WERE SPITTING NAILS
IF EACH ONE OF THOSE NAILS WERE A TREE
YOU WOULD HAVE CREATED A FOREST
—MY GOD, YOU WERE WALKING INTO DANGER
RATHER THAN AWAY FROM IT
DEFROST JOHNNY BOY
THE SIGNPOSTS POINT IN ALL DIRECTIONS
FOLD BACK THE SKIN AND MAKE THE FIRST INCISION
NO ROOM FOR FUZZINESS
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I SAW POOP ON THE GOOD SAMARITAN STICK
———–THE TIP OF THE ICEBERG——-
NEANDERTHAL SKULL FOUND IN BASEMENT
BRUTISH SAVAGES—THOSE CURIE HOUSE SCIENTISTS
RULE-BENDING WITH ATOMS
GOD AND ADAM AND CHAOTIC NATURE
POP STARS PINK IN THE BATHROOM
#1 POEM—SINGLE-MINDED PURSUIT
PREDOMINANTLY WHITE POETS
SALT LAKE CITY WHITE POETS
DELINQUENT READERS
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I SAW POOP ON THE GOOD SAMARITAN STICK
A SPECIFIC SMELL IN THE EMOTIONAL AIRSPACE
PEANUT-SIZED GENITAL TAGS
POETRY-FERRIED EXCHANGES
CONSTANT SIGNALS
ENDLESS NEURAL ZIP CODES
ASCRIBING INTENTIONALITY TO POETRY
*head-to-head in the small coffin
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THE RIGHT KIND OF WRONG
WATERFRONT BARS
THROWING THE GENITALS OUT AHEAD
PEEL OFF LAYER AFTER LAYER
PULL THE TRIGGER
—————————
GEL FOR THE ELECTRODES
THICK INCONTINENCE PADS
A RATHER SICKLY SWEET SMELL
ANTICIPATION OF WHAT’S TO COME
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anticipation leads to disappointments – the built up then the let down
– all things fade
– things mean a lot at the time
the waterfront bar, the flap of a wing, cranes and cargo, portholes look like wide open eyes,
bird shit on lapels
salty sailors on shore leave are like the invading hordes –
she wore layers after layer
and I unpeeled her like an onion
and then I cried!
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THE HEATED WELTER OF THE FLESH
POOP ON THE GOOD SAMARITAN STICK
OBJECTIONABLE TO THE LITTLE LADY
TOO STRONG FOR THOSE SHORT OF THE CAVE
NOT A SINGLE TRACE OF INNOCENCE
SNARES SET STAND UNTOUCHED
DEVIL BOY WITH HIS CIGAR SMOKE
AND FRESH PRINT BIBLE
THE INK WET—JESUS
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FREUD WAS TOUCHING THE POOP STICK
WITH HIS BARE HAND
SELF-DESTRUCTIVE URGES
WAS HE BAREFOOT OUTSIDE EDEN ?
THE SIN OF BEING BORN
DISPENSATION FROM THE ANIMALS
DENIED HEAVEN A THOUSAND WAYS
*maternal tears are like soda pop in Hades
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poets never speak of the fresh print bible
from somewhere in Brazil
to think that there are Christians in Brazil
to think that there are Christians in South America
baptism not possible on that side of the equator
guide dogs from Rome—tell them to go home !!!
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BELIEF AND DISBELIEF COEXIST IN BRITAIN
HOBGOBLINS OF THE CHURCH
THREE-PRONGED FORKS
MENTAL WEAKNESS
PREGNANCY AT THE BOTTOM OF THE LAKE
SLUMBERETH NOT
HE SAID THAT HE CRIED
AS HE PEELED AWAY THE LAYERS
THE PULSE OF EXISTENCE GONE
A HOUR IN THE SUN AND LUBE
SISSY GOT SASSY
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OVERSIZED, FLACCID ORGANS
BLOGS OF GREEK DONGS
VERY STRANGE UNCUT MEAT
TROUBLESOME SHAPE AND COLOR
BLUDGEON BEFORE SEX ?
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oversized organ
front of the church
religious man with no morals
bludgeoned with the candlestick
blood on the cassocks
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confusion in Brazil
the man who look like woman and the woman who like me – Adam’s apples bob up and down – the clues there if you know where to look
hourglass figure and a manly gait –
they found the lost city 3000miles from where it was last seen
ghost ships haunt the shoreline
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SEVERAL DOZEN CHRISTIANS WERE TALKING ABOUT
A PARENTHESIS OF FORGETFULNESS
BETWEEN THE METHOD AND THE EFFECT
VEHICLES OF MISDIRECTION
SOME BETTER LOOKING THAN OTHERS
JESUS FLYING OFF THE CROSS
WITH BUTTERFLY WINGS
A SPECTACULAR EFFECT
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JESUS TALKING ABOUT SOCIAL HORIZONS
THE RESOLUTION OF CONFLICTS
IN THE MARRIAGE BED
THE DUST BOWL
THE OUTBACK
THEATRICALS HAVE LEFT TOWN
ELEPHANTS ARE OUTLAWED
CLOWNS HAVE DRIBBLE PROBLEMS
THE VULGARITY OF THE BOURGEOISIE
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LAXNESS ABOUT HIS GENITAL OBLIGATIONS
THE POET MUST COMPENSATE WITH WORDS
WORDS WITH NOSE JOBS
WORDS WITH CHIN IMPLANTS
THROAT APPLES AND REAL DENTISTRY
WIFE MEMORIES TEMPORARILY IRRETRIEVABLE
———somehow, she became an opened can of beer
three lifetimes on the counter
warm and traumatized
the Jell-O in the hole
didn’t feel right
EXPOSED TO RIDICULE
PAIN THAT NEVER RETURNS TO NORMAL SIZE
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AMNESIA ABOUT DADAIST DIAPER MATERIAL
TRY NOT TO LOOK AT IT
DAY-TO-DAY TRIBULATIONS
A SIX FOOT LONG WORD
ALARM CLOCK MENSTRUAL CRAMPS
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INCREASINGLY THE WAY THE WORLD APPEARS
FAST FOOD FROM CONCENTRATION CAMPS
THE NIGHTMARE OFTEN BEING “INADEQUACY”
MYSTERY MEAT AND FAKE POTATO SPUDS
INTERPRETATIONS OF LITERATURE
INDEPENDENT OF WORDS IN PRINT
—GOD IS IN THE PHYSICAL
NEVER IN THE MENTAL
HIRE A TUTOR, JOHNNY BOY
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TANGLED HIERARCHY
FANCY HAIRCUT FOR $50
YOU OFTEN SPEAK OF PARALLELS
BELONGINGS OF DEAD PEOPLE
LIKE FLEA-BAG HOTEL BEDS
SPACED BY A NEAR-BLIND EMPLOYEE
ENCROACHING ON NO LESS THAN REALITY
PILLOWS WITH A TIRESOME SMELL
LATE NIGHT POETRY BY A VOYEUR
BANANA IN THE SHORTS
TO ENGAGE THE READER’S MIND
PHYSICAL ENERGIES LAST ONLY
TO A CERTAIN LIMIT
JOHNNY BOY
IN THE FACE OF THE INEXPLICABLE
ENQUIRING INTO WHAT WAS BEING MEANT
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two, three days caught in the fog &
the backwash of lingering ideas &
bruised thoughts
neglection of personal hygiene saw the dogs come round, sniffing for buried treasure
no religious inclination – the only Jesus he knew was a skateboarder form a coastal town –
a plane crashed into a mountain but others say the mountain crashed into the plane – shades of grey
like elephants in rooms &
skeletons under beds
to many hours spent contemplating the puns in the maps, detective novels piled by the door – scribbled notes in dust
she confided in me one night about her theories on the pyramids, the space landing and things under the sea
there was no alchemy
——————–/———————
dull throb &. the ache
at the temples
Michael needs his prescription –
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LIKE WHEN THE OLD LADY IS CONSTANTLY TALKING
AND NO ONE IS PAYING ATTENTION
FATIGUE OF LIFE
STOP SIGNS BENT OVER
CARS OFF THE ROAD
DOWN TO TERMS OF NECESSITY
THOUGHTS OF SHORT DURATION
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ENCROACHING ON REALITY
CONVERSATIONAL POETRY
POETRY POPULATED WITH ELEMENTS
BROWN SKIN AND BLUE EYES
FEMALES WEARING QUESTION MARKS
BLURRED TRANSITIONS
SHORT PUBIC HAIR
BOUND TO ENGAGE THE READER’S MIND
*exclusion of all extraliterary matters
—what does that mean ?
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times passed when people thought for hours – focused on &
focusing in
thoughts that could cut stone
diamond sharp
but now all thoughts are of short durations
distractions in 160 words or less
– the status of others
– pictures of cars
– all these advances
all this technology and people take pictures of pasta
aliens will laugh at us from afar
the old lady talks babbles waffles along not caring who listens making little sense but there is a theme
a message
a moral
but everyone’s distracted by the cost of socks and a TV show about rich woman with no manners in big houses
——————————————
the black box was found after a week
investigations couldn’t reveal the reason for the crash no bodies were intact
a liver in a tree, a kidney over there
pecked at by birds who care little for the debris around them
——————————————
the pressure of being under water
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POETRY ABOUT YOUR LOCAL WELDING SUPPLY STORE
THINKING ABOUT WELDER GLASS RATINGS
LATE AT NIGHT WHILE OTHERS ARE SLEEPING
IVAN OF AUMQUE WITH HIS ALUMINIZED MYLAR SHEETING
WOULD HE YIELD TO THE PERSUASION OF ANOTHER POET ?
BEING INDIGENOUS—POCKETS OF BLOWFLIES
FOR THE HUNGRY STYGIAN FROGS
BEING INDIGENOUS—FREEDOM ON THE FARSIDE
EMPTY CONVERSATIONS BESIDE THE ACHERON
*detecting shortcomings in others is a popular hobby
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PEOPLE TAKING A DUMP
BEHIND A WRETCHED-LOOKING BUSH
ON THE BANK OF THE ACHERON
A PILE OF BROWN MATTER
WITH SWIRLING BLOWFLIES
A DIVINELY APPOINTED PLACE ?
A MAGIC MOMENT
WHEN A BITE IS TAKEN FROM THE SUN
WHEN A BITE IS TAKEN FROM THE MOON
AND JOHNNY BOY WITH HIS WELDER’S MASK
SOMEWHAT MANIACAL—CAWING IN CROW
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DADAIST DIAPER MATERIAL—MOCK-SPIRITUAL SIGNIFICANCE
CROUCHING MEN TAKING A POOP
WOMEN IN FULL SQUAT
ONE CAN ONLY GUESS
DILAPIDATED BUTT CHEEKS
FLAPS NEAR COLLAPSE
CANDY-COATED GARGOYLES
BAROQUE REVIVAL PIPE TOBACCO
HIGGEDLY-PIGGEDLY SEX
INEVITABLE COTTAGE CHEESE SEMEN
MEN OF SCIENCE WITH POCKETS OF BLOWFLIES
CUTLERY ENVIED BY THE VILLAGERS
MANY HAVE TRIED BUT FEW HAS SUCCEEDED
WEATHER-BEATEN FOG—AMNESIC AND MEDDLESOME
A CITY SEEMINGLY EMPTY
ARTIFICIAL AND MECHANIZED
CONVERTED CONCRETE
PSEUDOAMBIGUOUS GRIT AND SPIT
NONCOMMITMENT TO EMPLOYMENT
MUDDLED THINKING PRODUCES KITSCH
POETRY BEING THE ROCKET FUEL
FRANTIC ASSERTIONS OF AN EGO
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first-person narrative and external points of view
gesture theater—the actors moving in slow motion
winter comes before the fruit
unhealthy people fixed on ultimacy
eyes that no longer can focus
dead relatives in the waste ravine
no one choice seems satisfactory
*definable conceptions
from a flarf machine
*grammar found in a Russian coat pocket
purchased in a thrift shop
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dead relatives in a ravine
each one with a proverbial donkey brain
paralyzed with religion taught from an early age
no one choice was satisfactory in the end
constant thoughts of how things were before
contradictory thoughts on the pillow
behind the bathroom door
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THE STUDY OF GENDER AND NUDITY
POKING FUN AT STEREOTYPES
INSIGNIFICANT GLANCES
GUNFIRE IN THE LOWER REGIONS
EROTIC INTEREST IN LEAKING FLUIDS
ABSURDIST POETRY WITHOUT MERCY
STONE-COLD QUENTIN TARANTINO
*the issue of torn movie directors (honeymoon despondency)
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tinged with sin and despair
various eyes on the bride
murky love
counterfeiting ?
lampooning ?
lips locked in a sticky embrace
flashes of Monica Lewinsky
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FAMILY IS THE AGENT OF PRESSURES TOWARD CONFORMITY
TIME SPENT THINKING IS TIME WASTED
EXISTENCE IS NOT AUTHENTIC
HARSH REALITIES
LICKING BOOTS
SLEEPING AT THE CORNER
OF OEDIPUS AND LEAR
SHERLOCK HOLMES IN A GAY MOVIE
NATURE CHANGED
CONTRADICTIONS
IMPLIED AND ACTUAL
IRRELEVANT SMALL TALK
SHOT THROUGH A FLARF MACHINE
DEGENERATION TO ASSONANCE AND PATTERNS
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SHERLOCK HOLMES IN A GAY MOVIE
REDISCOVERY OF SUBMERGED MOMENTS
A CATHARSIS—A LIBERATION
OUTSIDE THE MAINSTREAM
THINKING ABOUT THE AMOUNT OF TIME
ONE HAS TO THINK
THOUGHTS TRYING TO FIND A WAY OUT
YOUR HEROIC ATTEMPTS AT COMMUNICATION
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the birds fly around the crash site, not over it – the wreckage is bent and crippled at angles
the birds fly across all points of the compass spinning away from true north we are lost amongst family and friends
acquaintances & secretaries at desks on the 35th floor
– not a single kiss placed in perfect lips –
small talk with heavy words speaking in tongues
snake handler
when they released the files your name was expunged
blacked out
the past never happened like we remembered
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attempts to communicate can be strained, morse code machines explode in fits of dots & dashes – she thinks in binary,
a series of 1’s and 0’s – never-ending
– all words are animals
we shepherd into order –
no calculator can calculate the amount of time we have spent thinking –
and in his bag Sherlock hides the pictures that no one should see
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THE FUTURE WILL NOT HAPPEN AS WE THINK IT WILL
——————————————————————————-
MELODRAMATIC POET WITHDRAWN
SPEAKS EXCLUSIVELY IN THE PAST TENSE
UNFINISHED PHOTOGRAPHS
GAY SHERLOCK HOLMES
A PARACHUTIST
FALLING
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MERELY UNDER OBSERVATION
A DAILY SEQUENCE
OUTSIDE—OUTCASTS STUMBLE ABOUT
NO END TO CIRCLES
LANGUAGE AND SCIENCE
IN TIGHT UNDERWEAR
UNVEILED SHERLOCK HOLMES
LAYERS OF MATTER
BEASTLY AND ENORMOUS
SURLY BANTER
POETRY HAMMERED OUT
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bizarre experiments with numbers and words
animal carcasses, metal & voices on black boxes
– the news rolled by the Dow Jones numbers
– the contraction of contemporary history – the here and the now
the past glossed over and made anew –
I’ve seen you in pictures when you weren’t there
– DNA left by unknown agencies at the scene
– dark town jazz men and the Otis men in midnight knife fights – somebody call the cops
Sherlock and his habits- the detectives need help
my son is next door talking to a computer
————–
poetry as a valve
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EMILY DICKINSON—IMPENETRABLE MYSTERY
LESSON ONE:
SHE FLOATED ABOVE EVERYONE ELSE
PHYSICALLY, INTELLECTUALLY, AND MORALLY
SHE WAS THE WOMAN THAT MEN LONG FOR
AND OTHER WOMEN DREAM TO BE
SHE WAS THE TREE THAT NEVER SHED
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A PREOCCUPATION INDICATING ANXIETY
ABOUT MANLINESS
ALL POETRY DEALS CENTRALLY
AND OBSESSIVELY WITH MASCULINITY
CONTROLLED AND UNIFIED MASCULINITY
INFLATED POTENCY
EMILY HIRED DETECTIVES
TO DETECT THE TINIEST CLUE
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EMILY WAS THE QUEEN OF LIMITATIONS
SHE WAS NEVER A BALLOON IN A WIND STORM
THE CONSTANT PSYCHOLOGICAL AND MORAL STRUGGLE
GRAPPLING WITH FEMALE ISSUES—HER BURNING BUSH
HER DREAMS OF BEING A POWERFUL FORCE
A MAN WHO COULD STRONG-ARM
HER FATHER AND BROTHER
MAKE THEM CROUCH
DOWN IN FEAR
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PLEASE IGNORE THOSE PHOTOGRAPHS OF ME
WHERE I AM NOT IN THE FRAME
———DISEMBODIED———-
OFTEN WHEN I AM ABSENT FROM THE PHOTOGRAPH
I AM IN AN INTIMATE LIP-LOCK WITH NAT KING COLE
BARTENDERS OFTEN REMARK ABOUT OUR LIPS
OVERSIZED COMIC RELIEF
*association with sexual savagery
*opportunity for voyeurism
*poetic spectatorship
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PEOPLE OFTEN COMMENT ABOUT SODOMY
WITH SIDNEY POITIER
THEY POSE THE QUESTION OF WHAT
CONSTITUTES GOOD SODOMY
FLARF MACHINES SHOOT OUT:
BIGGER GUNS—LONGER RUNS
QUICK AND CLEAN
TARGET PRACTICE
EXTREME DARKNESS
STANDARD NOTIONS
A TIGHT BUD
24hr LUBE
POKING STEREOTYPES
MANIPULATIVE POSITIONS
TONGUE BATH
ARTISTIC TUSSLE
SUPERIOR SKILLS
STRONG SENSE OF MASCULINITY
ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE
FEELING AND UNFEELING
TOUGH AND SENSITIVE
———————————————
———————————————
PEOPLE OFTEN COMMENT ABOUT SODOMY
WITH SIDNEY POITIER
———————————
———————————
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RESOLVING THE ISSUE OF TORN LOYALTIES
WORD BUDS WITH FLARF ON THE SWEAT-RAG
TO PLAY WITH THE DISCREPANCY
CREATING AND MAINTAINING
THROUGH ARDUOUS QUESTS
AND MULTIPLE SACRIFICES
IMMENSE OBSTACLES
EMILY DICKINSON
A VENEER OF NORMALITY
LINGERING SUSPICIONS
TONGUE IN A FRIEND
SHANGHAI SLIT
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POETS PICKED THEIR TEETH WITH THE SKINNY LEGS
OF YOUNG MISTER LINCOLN
POETRY FORESHADOWING REALITY
CUTLERY PASSED FROM HAND TO HAND
UNDER THE TABLE
MESS-HALL ABE
SHIFTY-EYED ABE LINCOLN
SKINNY LEGS AND ALL
SOLITARY IN A BOX
RUINED BY A BULLET
OPENLY COUPLED WITH MEN IN BED
———–TRIGGERS—————-
LIFE RULED AS IT IS BY MEN
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poetry as a reaction to reality – a cave in which to hide,
the solitude of a man and his words everything as inspiration – the silence at the top of the mountain
– not the noise of the mess hall,
the lukewarm meat,
the khaki greens & military maps –
Abe hats removed in the heat of the night – nighttime tremors –
Louisiana sweats – the sweet sweet sounds of jazz wafts &
drifts like aroma of food –
his pre-occupation with repeating and reusing the words of others – spiders in a web
Clinton Eastwood on the back of a dollar – Sidney Poitier was not the first black man –
——————————————
I have ignored the pictures but I have kept the frames
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LUKEWARM MEAT OF FRIENDSHIP
OLD-FASHIONED GENDER IDEALS
REAL MEN WITH KNIVES
AT POOL HALLS
*no secret who the stoolie is
ALL-FEMALE GROUPS
WHO WOULD NEVER LICK THE PELT
SOLIDARITY WITHOUT SEX
AND YET SOMEWHERE LATE AT NIGHT
HINTS OF PHYSICAL INTIMACY
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MEN WHO WANT TO CONNECT WITH OTHER MEN
———-THROUGH PUNISHMENT————
SEXUAL REVERIES HIDDEN LIKE EASTER EGGS
POETS FIND THEMSELVES POWERLESS
ISSUES OF DOMINATION AND SUBMISSION
VIOLATIONS OF SPACE
CRUELTY—PENITENTIARY STYLE
A PERSONAL TOUR OF HELL
A GUIDED TOUR
*where sodomy never sleeps
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the tender handshake of feigned friendship – limp wristed & light of touch – the men of the pool hall tell tall tales under low light – a group of virgins not wanting to be found out – gregarious gangs with loose lips –
the intimacy of the group
initiation ceremonies involving things that can’t be spoken about – embarrassed entry –
what happens in the showers stays in the showers
cavernous entrance
cast shadows and throws the words back
echoes & the small print
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AIMED AT REFORMING SODOMY MANAGEMENT
NEWSREEL IMAGES OF BACKDOOR CRIMES
LIVES CAUGHT UP IN BROWN
DEVISING AND REVISING
IMMOBILIZING
*and then pink eye
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WHERE THE GOOD GUYS NEVER SHOW UP
POOL HALL JUNKIES FINGERING COIN SLOTS
MONEY STASHED IN MYSTERIES AND DETECTIVE STORIES
NAIL-BITER GIRLS WITH BRUISE MARKS
THEY SQUABBLE LIKE PARROTS ON CRACK
DREAMS ABOUT STOPWATCHES AND GETAWAY CARS
THE PROPRIETORS OF GENITALS
DARK FORCES IN WARM PLACES
SELF-ANALYTICAL FELLATIO
HANDSOME IN WHITE
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man of many hats
woman of many faces
coins in the slot a thousand miles from now – ritual beatings
– to dream the impossible dream*
– prom queen in pink & bruises hidden
– punk rock leather pins
– round pegs in square holes
– two many channels to surf
– to kiss with wet lips
– you can buy human parts online
– no need to leave the house these days –
sodomy delivered to your door –
– ritualistic dreams of bank robberies and overwrought acceptance speeches
–
——————————————
*self fellatio – rib removal – if you could
you would
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SUFFERING FROM LONELINESS
SELF FELLATIO AT AGE 7
BENZEDRINE AND OLDER WOMEN
SOON COVERED THE CANVAS
MARRIED WOMEN WITH WEIGHT PROBLEMS
BACK THEN DOCTORS WERE FRIENDLY
STORYTELLERS ON THE CAR ROOF
90mph WITH NO HOPE
I WAS IN DEEP
PEOPLE SAID THAT I WOULD GO
STRAIGHT TO HELL
*I went through a fatal phase
47 fatal blood clots
a fatal car crash
a fatal honeymoon night
*mortified by ridicule twice
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(EXPLICIT MATH CLASSES WERE TOO MUCH)
ONE CAN WRITE A CHECK ON PERVERTED SEX
TOO ASHAMED TO CASH IT
THE NUMBERS DON’T ADD UP
SLIM ENERGIES—THIN SEED
SCREENED-IN
THE NEW MEDICATION
MAN-MADE MOONSHINE IN POWDER
MAKES PEOPLE IN AFRICA GO CRAZY
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MULTITUDES LIVING IN PAIN
—————————————–
DEATH CUTS SHORT THE VOYAGE
DEATH CONSUMES THE HELL
THE JOY FLOATS OFF
WITHOUT LIFTING A FINGER
INSPIRATION AND FRESHNESS
*freedom from poop, pee, reproduction
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IN WHOM RESIDED THE BUDDHA
TOE-NAIL CLIPPINGS
MELTED IN COFFEE
LOCALS CALLED IT “SOUP”
THE CREAMY MILK OF NEAH BAY
MAKES ONE A TRAITOR
MAKES THE RED HEART
TURN BLACK
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PETRIFIED DOG DICKS
“HE SAIDS” “SHE SAIDS”
LIKE PICKLES IN A JAR
DECEPTION IN ART
DECEPTION IN POETRY
DECEPTION IN THE MARRIAGE BED
WHO TAUNTS THE TRUTH ?
THE KILLING FACE OF HAVING NEVER LIVED
CAN’T GIVE AWAY AUTOGRAPHED COPIES
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metamorphosis into another person
fourteen faces
twenty two fake passports
the rumours around the coffee shop talk of a new black, a variant
shade
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FOURTEEN FACES—HELL—14 ORIENTAL POSITIONS
RELATIONS WITH WOMEN—FULL OF DEMANDS
GROWING MISOGYNY WITH THE BIBLE KEPT OUTSIDE
A RECEPTIVE AUDIENCE–THOSE VICIOUS INSTINCTS
FEED THE BUGGERS WITH PEANUTS AND RAISINS
—————-MOST OF ALL————————
CALL THE POLICE
THEY WILL COME OVER AND KILL IT
MAKE SURE YOU RECORD IT
PUT IT ON THE INTERNET
PUT IT ON THE EVENING NEWS
THE WHOLE WORLD CAN SEE JUST HOW WRONG
MOTHERS WITHOUT SONS
WIVES WITHOUT HUSBANDS
CHILDREN WITHOUT FATHERS
CALL THE POLICE
THEY BEAT AND RAPE
AND ROB
THEY LOCK UP
SO OTHERS CAN BEAT AND RAPE
AND ROB
ALIENATION, DESPAIR, LONELINESS
SELF-CONSCIOUS ALCOHOLISM
SOON THEY WILL BLOW UP THE MATTERHORN
*it started with fourteen faces—to 14 oriental positions
the beatings one takes from their wife
the beatings one takes from their boss
that damn demon in alcohol
he beats the prize
and then Americans will blow up the Matterhorn
this will excite the Russians
(you can bet your bottom dollar that this
will excite the Russians)
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a little wacky when I listen to Rammstein
bumpy pickle daddy
representatives of sanity
abandoning industrial cutlery
naked and scrambling after the Levithan
sorehead because I lost my source of spoons
my romantic triangle with the twins
you with your great opportunity
to start a family
complete solitude
you found yourself in complete solitude
your new mother and your new brothers
no mirrors to reflect your father
*started a family—little shoes and gritty gravel in the poop-box
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SHE TOOK EVERYTHING
EXCEPT THE LONELINESS
THE GENITAL ITCH
MULTIPLIED IN MY MIND
A BOX OF WORDS
MEXICALI RELIGION IN FLORIDA
PROSTITUTES AND GUNS
NONSTOP DRUGS
TO BATTLE THE BLAME
—–JOINT AUTHORSHIP——–
SHE TOOK EVERYTHING
THE CHEERS
THE SQUIRRELS
BUT
NOT THE LOADED PISTOL
GRIEF OF SEPARATION
SOON TURNED INTO SMOKESTACKS
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the police with guns
the criminals with guns drunks with guns
free guns for all – I vaguely recall a time when kids were given guns at birth –
secrets hidden inside national monuments – I’ve scratched the surface,
displaced the lense through the brutal beatings
the burning buildings
I decided to move to the country side
– cheap drugs by the bucket load
– crackden downtown
– exposed nerves at the root
– she
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PORK CHOPS CUT OFF A HORSE
I CALLED THE POLICE
TOLD THEM TO BRING
PLENTY OF GUNS
————-TOO EXPENSIVE TO REPAIR THE PET
DONATED TO THE “FEED A LION” FOUNDATION
TWO BITES AND HISTORY CAME TO A HALT
OLDTIME CAVEMAN NIGHT WITH HUNGRY ROARS
SEGMENTS OF AMERICAN SOCIETY
DEGRADED CIRCUMSTANCES OUTSIDE
PICASSO ERASED AND TOSSED TO THE CURB
DICTATED YOUNG GIRLS AND SECRETARIES
SPONTANEOUS ART AT GREAT HASTE
IMAGES AND WORDS TO TRICK THE PUBLIC
JACKED-UP INTELLECTUAL METH
DIGNITY IN THE BACKPOCKET
PUTTING THE TONGUE BACK THERE
WELL, JUST NEVER SEEMED CORRECT
THEMES BECOMING STREAMS
BIOLOGICAL CLARITY
RECTUM READERS
SNIDE LITERATURE
*crack-heads wanting commitment
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IVAN AT AUMQUE IN A LIQUOR STORE
FULL OF BUDDHISTS
AMUSED WITH HIMSELF
A FIFTY-CENT HAIRCUT GONE WRONG
INCOMPETENCE AT JAZZ
PEPPERMINT TASTING
HARD EDGE ORAL DELIGHT
BENZEDRINE ON THE HOUR
UPSIDEDOWN LIPS
ROLLING PELVIS
THE NEW INTERCOURSE
INTERPRETING THE BEHAVIOR
OF POLICEMEN AND VIOLENCE
SHOOT AND KICK AND KILL
(WHITE PEOPLE ON COLOR TELEVISION)
*white people on color television
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PLEASE DO NOT BLOW UP THE MATTERHORN
I CAN LIVE WITH DOUBLE VISION
BORED WITH DESPAIR
I LAUGH AT DEATH
47 FATAL BLOOD CLOTS
HELL, WHY NOT MILK THEM ?
BIBLE-READING CONVICTS
SODOMY ON THE FLOORBOARDS
OUT OF KILTER—THE BACKDOOR
THE RIVIERA RECTUM
NIGHT CLUB SUITS WITH DIAPERS
PRAYERS A MILE LONG
PRAYERS BEYOND POSTCARDS
—————————————
—————————————
———–SHE———————-
SHE WAS NEVER A CONQUEST
PILES OF LOOT
SCATTERED THOUGHTS
SHE WAS BETTER THAN HISTORY
SHE WAS A TREE FULL OF BIRDS
SHE WAS A LIBERAL INTELLECTUAL
HAIR AROUND HER TRAFFIC CIRCLE
HAIR AROUND HER LOST PURPOSE EXIT
WALKING IN HER SLEEP
I COULD NEVER KEEP UP WITH YOU
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WALKING IN HER SLEEP
I COULD NEVER KEEP UP WITH YOU
INTO THE ARTERIES OF CURRENT MULTIPLEMICHAEL
HOMELESS CLOTS—INTRIGUED WITH THE END
MUSCULAR, TAUT, TENSE CLOTS
RATTLING
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at a time of flood the construction of a new ark –
two by two handcuffed together & marched up the gangplank – a lottery selection and flags cracking in the wind – sat waiting for the first sign of a wave – they memorised manifestos and tracts,
a page per person
she was “Chapter 13: Of the Naturall Condition of Mankind, as concerning their Felicity, and Misery” –
secret compartments stored the drugs – detectives stowed away below the Plimsoll line – people heard rumours of hushed whispers below, of scribbling pens but no one investigated
they left the shore which looked like half chewed meat as they moved over the horizon
photos of the Matterhorn taped over portholes
things fell into place
and things fell apart
LikeLike
why so many white people on color television ?
ROY ROGERS HAD TRIGGER
IVAN HAD DOSTOYEVSKY
ME RODE MY HORSE IN THE PARADE
HONEYMOON SUITE OVERLOOKING THE RODEO
KENTUCKY IN THE SKY
SHE SWORE LIKE A MAN
PLEASING POOL HALL BOYS
DRINKING TASTELESS SHINE
GAY JOKES ABOUT THE COAL MINE
DIRTY STORIES ABOUT HER SISTER’S HUSBAND
IN 8000 YEARS NO ONE WOULD EVER MENTION
ALLEN GINSBERG OR ALAN HARRINGTON
POISON POETRY—MADE THE FLARF MACHINE BLUSH
SCENTED WORDS ALL LUBED UP FOR INSERTION
FINGERING ONE ANOTHER BEFORE THE BOXING MATCH
ALLEN COULD IMITATE A WARNING BUZZER
MIMICKING CONVERSATIONAL POETRY
*head-on collisions with comments
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I WANTED TO PUT THE CAR AWAY
TOO MANY BABIES TOSSED
WHO COULD APOLOGIZE ?
ANGRY KIDNEYS—-THE DOCTOR SAID THAT
DOING METH IN SALT LAKE CITY
TERRIFIED—IMPOSSIBLE TO RELAX
I WANTED TO PUT THE CAR AWAY
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TOP SPEED ON THE EMPTY ROADS
MOUNTAINS AND DESERTS
EXPLORATORY UTAH
WORDS FILLING EMPTY SPACE
I HAVE A CONDO IN MOAB
SHARP THINGS ARE BANDAGED
THE SMELL OF ITALIAN CIGARETTES
IT WASN’T MUSIC THAT ROCKED
THE NEIGHBORS TO COMPLAIN
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INTIMATE MONOLOGUE—BESIEGED WITH COMMENTS
QUEST FOR HOBO RECOGNITION
A DRINK IN BOTH HANDS
SEVERAL MEANINGFUL MOMENTS
SQUIGGLES OF SOUNDS
REPETITION OF KEY WORDS
LONG-SHORT SODOMY
NOBODY SLEEPS
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SHE SAID THAT THIS THROWED LIGHT
ON FUNCTION AND PURPOSE
THE BRIGHT LIGHT
BASHFULNESS OUT THE WINDOW
THE TOP QUADRANT OF THE ARK
HIGHLY VALUED
MIXTURES OF GENETIC INHERITANCE
NOAH THOUGHT ABOUT MANY THINGS
NO ROOM FOR OLDER VERSIONS
HIS SEED ALONE
WOULD BE THE NEW CROP
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THE NATIVES ARE ANGRY ABOUT THE SOUNDS
CLOWNS WITH DIRTY DIAPERS
UPSET EVERYONE
OINK-OINK
PINNED-DOWN IN THE ARK
UNABLE TO MOVE ABOUT
COUNTLESS TERRIBLE SMELLS
NOAH WITH HIS BAGPIPE FARTS
HIS HAIRY SEED PODS GROWING LARGER
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the photo of you and the monkey is on the dark net – I have the passwords
encrypted
not your date of birth, the name of your favourite pet or your first high school crush – a series of letters and signs – it’s written down and buried in vault in Marrakech
–
– nighthawks at the diner
– meth heads on the corner
they excavated the body and coziness the wound – blunt trauma – the three knees baffled the scientists
silhouettes of Jagger seen in the negatives – the X-ray machine was throbbing
the natives peeked from behind curtains and wrote furious letters to government agencies
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something out of nothing
there is no other explanation and when they de-thaw the iceberg and the water floods the backstreet and alleyways and reaches the top of the streetlight and cars are underwater the lonely boy will drop his teddy bear and pick up his gun
LikeLike
FUMBLING ATTEMPTS AT FRIENDSHIP
ON THE ARK
TORRENTS OF CONVERSATION
DAY-LABOR WORDS
SOAKED IN SWEAT
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temporary friendships best chalked up as acquaintances
fifth attempt at a first impression
in the ark and the office – never getting below the surface – scratching off thin layers as the wash splashes over
foot on the edge
a woman with eyeballs on her jacket
just walked by
the detectives have no alibis
the scientists are unobservable
retreat to the cave
burn the libraries
batten down the hatches
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CURIOSITY TOUCHING THE EXTERIOR OF LEVIATHAN
SHE WAS A TOLERABLE WOMAN
APPETITES CHANGE
LUST TURNS TO COMPANIONSHIP
AGGRESSIVE SKIN IN NEED OF FRICTION
SINKS DEEP DOWN IN THE SHADOWS
THE NURSE CALLS IT “INLAND”
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THE BIRTHDAY GIFT OPENED
THE QUEEN WITH HER UNPARADISAL EARTH
THE STOUTEST WOMAN ON TWO LEGS
A SPOON AND A FORK
A DRAUGHT OF POISON
SWEET SON IN BED WITH A HORSE
THE BOOK OF PHALLICISM CLOSED
TERRITORIAL EXPANSION
INCHES LOANED
AND LOST
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Lost inland, north of the horizon
buried below the canopy and the shadow of the mountains
elaborate traps had been set
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CULTURAL MYTHOLOGY OF WHITENESS
EVEN IN THE DARK
ONE COULD CLEARLY
SEE THE SIZE AND SHAPE
DIFFERENCES ARE NOTED
READINGS OF THE OUTSIDE
GIVE HINT OF THE INSIDE
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SHE WAS THE MASTER OF DENIAL
REFUSAL TO PROVIDE ACCESS
AN INCH IN
NEVER MORE COULD BE
SHE DISAPPOINTS
ONLY TO ATTRACT AGAIN
CHARITABLE SPACE LOCKED TIGHT
THE LOWLANDS HAVE SANK LOWER
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the outside of leviathan was confusing to the blind mans touch – brick work and mortar,
ancient cathedral, the edifice
snake skin scaly yet,
smooth while fingers dip into crevices,
small bore holes, acne faced teenager blackhead reminiscence,
craters left by un-recorded explosions and sound waves which
threw the Ark off course
towards rocks and siren
wails of the occupants and stowaways in lifeboats hoarding fists prepared for the monarch –
—
sailors, come and go with the tide
the moon is more important than the sun –
the bloody cycle
a witches coven
the sheep separated from the shepherd
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OUTSIDE LEVIATHAN—ALWAYS DAMP
DRIZZLY NOVEMBER
SKIN GROWING GRIM AROUND THE ENTRANCE
GRAY AND GRIZZLED AT BEST
COFFIN SMELLS
AND COTTAGE CHEESE
BIRTHDAY FLOOD-GATES OPEN
AN ANSWER TO THE NEED
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AN IMAGE OF THE UNGRASPABLE
A POSSIBLE PASSAGE
FRICTION TO RECONCILE
ONESELF TO LIFE
GOD HIDDEN THERE
TO TREAT THE VOYAGE FIRSTHAND
POSSIBLY REDUCED
TO ITS LOWEST TERMS
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Jehovah witnesses self publicise their beliefs
like the amateur flarf man –
the chapbook kings in the dark corners charging small change for a few well trodden lines –
newly discovered tunnels have been found leading from the libraries fiction aisle (F to K) to the past –
the quiet librarians had taken a vow of silence
monolithic & monk like
– all explorers (of land
words,
of colour) have ideas and worlds buried, a constant desire to find a new way North
——————————————
she told me the two ways to differentiate class is bank balance and if they like jazz
un-graspable logic
they make rafts from the dead
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skin growing over the wreck of leviathan
like a chameleon
regenerating, a lost tail
(when she’s gone
I think she’s still there – she is my phantom limb)
– overgrown borders need cutting back and for the first time
in a long time
I was mute
confused by this new lexicon
the syntax of the arks dictionaries
the instruction manuals of obsolete computers and refrigerators
old trainers thrown away and worn by nextme
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SPEEDING CARS ON THE ICY ROAD
NEW ANGINA WAS OUT OF CONTROL
CHOLESTEROL AND BLOOD PRESSURE WERE BUSY
RISK FACTORS EVERYWHERE
FATAL BLOOD CLOTS—47 AT LAST COUNT
THE DOCTOR CONSTANTLY SAID,
“ABNORMALITIES”
THE MARRIAGE BED PRESSED TO THE FLOOR
MENOPAUSAL STATUS: PITCHFORKS AND SWEAT
A DEEP EMOTIONAL RELATIONSHIP
STAND-UP COMEDY ON BATH SALTS
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THAT WAS AN AMATORY GOURD IN YOUR PANTS ?
BUSY PAINTING THE WALLS WITH MICROBES
TUBERCLE BACILLUS IS THE BOMB
ONE PSYCHOSOCIAL LAYER
THEN ANOTHER
“THIS IS YOUR DEATH”
*sharing feelings openly made your parents nervous
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INJECTING MICROBES FROM EUROPE
BACTERIA ON MY MORNING TOAST
MAKING EVERYONE FEEL VULNERABLE
PRODUCING POETRY WITH THE WORDS
PASTEUR-PASTEUR-PASTEUR
LOOKING FOR HAPPINESS
IN ALL THE WRONG PLACES
IN MY UNDERWEAR
IN OTHER PEOPLE’S UNDERWEAR
BEING TOLD TO STOP
DISTURBING WHAT IS THERE
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TRANSIENT LIKE A MIGRATORY BIRD
ONE SKIN AND THEN ANOTHER
BIBLICAL PROPHETS
ON THE PILLOW SPEAKING
OH WARBLING FELLOWS
KNOW YE NOT
I AM ASLEEP
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OUT ON THE OLD TESTAMENT HIGHWAY
PAST THE GRAVE OF NOAH
PAST QUESTIONS AND DOUBT
ALMOST TO THE RIVER
OF ENHANCED PERCEPTION
A PLACE WHERE PAIN IS MEASURED
SOMETIMES SHARED
SOMETIMES NOT
*inward voices call out—voices of female empowerment
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FRAUDULENT LOVE FROM THE STORE
THAT SELLS RECREATION
MISLEADING INTERCOURSE
ONE HOUR REMEMBERANCE
IN AND OUT LIKE THE DEVIL
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THE LADY UNDER THE INTERCOURSE
SAID THAT SHE WAS KEEPING A RECORD
PERSONAL RESPONSIBILITY FOR GUILT
BEDROOM CORRUPTIONS
AFTER ALL……
I WAS TRYING TO STRETCH
HER GREAT, GAPING HOLE
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COULD HER VAGINA BE LIKENED
TO A FABRIC THAT COMES APART
AT THE SEAMS
POSSIBLY TOO RAGGED
TO BE REPAIRED
*the backdoor is not out of reach
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sometimes it is difficult to sleep
“revenge of the nerves”
too expressive for poetry
the outskirts of sanity
multiple identities
unlimited funds
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grown out of revenge fantasies
the bored adolescent
the shoes no longer fit
the trousers will fall down
a belt fashioned from electric chord
with the toaster still attached
– it clangs along like a metal legged ghost scattering crumbs
– dive bombed by birds
swoosh peck flap peck
the weather man has a face like a vagina
warned of high seas – CALL THE ARKS BACK TO SHORE
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FEELINGS OF FEAR AND DREAD ABOUT DRIVING THE TONGUE
THE FLOW OF LIFE BELOW THE UPLAND PASTURE
DECAYED BARRIERS PROTECT THE OLDER CROWD
A SCENT-LADEN EXPANSE OF GREY FLESH
GROPING—THE SANDPAPER OF SELF-EDUCATION
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IVAN COMPLAINS OF THE IDLENESS
OF RIGOR MORTIS
AUDIBLE TICKING IN THE GROIN
THE PINK WORM—THE BOY PUPPET
THE CLOCK-DOCTOR CALLED AND CALLED
REPAIR BORDERING ON BLASPHEMY
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THE SANDPAPER OF SELF-EDUCATION
LABOR AND LEISURE
CORN FACED POOP
ESSENTIALLY INEXPRESSIBLE
GUESSED ELAPSED TIME
DISTINCTIVE HOODS ON DONGS
SURROGATE LIPS AROUND THE HOLES
ORTHODOX EVIDENCE—PIONEERING PINK WORMS
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the ark, bottom deck filled with poop and hay, no sewage
no pipes
poop in a bucket MAN OVER BOARD
the long trek of the king penguins
the arduous journey they had – flightless birds with useless wings –
– a map compass and a back pack of dead fish
the awful smell followed them everywhere
in the meat factory a bucket full of lips
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DEEP-FRIED LIPS
*just think how much fun it would be
to misspell Hieronymus Bosch
PEASANT POETRY IN A DEMONIC WORLD
ANY MODE OF REBELLION POSSIBLE
AND NOT SINGLE VISION
TWO EYES TO A HEAD
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THE EVERYDAY WELTER OF LIFE
BUG-EYE CONFUSION
RUINS HISTORY
PEOPLE TRY SO HARD
———————-BUT NO !!!
———————-DAMN HURLY-BURLY LUST
———————-GENITALS THAT CAN NOT REST
THE POTENTIAL FOR CHAOS
PEEPING FROM BENEATH
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Dali changed
rearranged is laid
like the chicken egg
self contained and ready to be hit with a spoon
a moustache that takes on religious significance
a balance beam for the termites
scurrying ants ignite the tinderbox
small donations made to send him away,
a Viking burial in a burning boat
the animals can’t tell you when their scared they stamp hoofs and roll eyes but die in silence as the ark hits the rocks
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—————————-THE LARGE BARGE LANDS————–
AN ARK OF UNCONSCIOUS MATERIAL
DALI ON AN ARK
DALI ON AN ARK
COUSINS FROM KENTUCKY WITH WELCOMING ARMS
HORRIFIC UNDERSIDES—RELATIVES HALF-NAKED
EMACIATED BREASTS AND PURPLE DONGS
CONSEQUENCES OF SUBSTITUTES
CHRONIC DEPRESSION AND BLACK LUNG
HAREM PROSTITUTES GONE BAD
WORMS AND SLUGS AND HOUSEHOLD BUGS
ROLES AND HOLES LONG TO EXPIRE
THE FRONT DOOR IS THE CHURCH
THE BACKDOOR IS THE CIRCUS
THE UFO ABDUCTION
INITIATED THE RESURGENCE
OF CHILDHOOD MEMORIES
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INDECIPHERABLE GRAFFITI—HERMAPHRODITE POETRY
CINEMATIC LIFE COMPLETE WITH SELF-CONFINEMENT
DEEP BLACK BULLS WITH A BLUISH CAST
THE HEAVENLY DOMINION OF BLUENESS
THE HINT OF CHLORINE FROM THE PUBLIC BATHS
SOMEWHERE AN ODD LAUGHTER
TOOTHPICK PEOPLE
IN THE GUILLOTINE LINE
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CONGESTED MENFOLK SERVING THE BEDROOM
SLEEPWALKERS WITH JELLY ON THEIR DONGS
CIRCLES OF FRIENDSHIPS—THROBBING
EVERY SIZE EVERY SHAPE
WORN-OUT BALLERINAS
LOITERING TATTERS
SPONTANEOUS JISM
THEATRICAL SEX
AT HOME
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EXPLORATIONS OF EMILY DICKINSON
SO MANY PEOPLE WANT TO ERASE
THE RELIGIOUS PARTS
—————-SANDPAPER OF SELF-EDUCATION
PINK WORMS AND VERBS
PINK WORMS AND VERBS
WHEN THE POLICE SEARCHED ME
I HAD A SMALL DICTIONARY
IN MY POCKET
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————————————-SHE——————————
SHE TRIES TO INSULT HIM
SHE ASKS IF HE ONCE
MADE CUTLERY
THE MISSING FINGERS
NOBLE ENTERPRISE
OR A SORDID MOMENT ?
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I REFUSE TO COMPETE FOR HER AFFECTION
——————————————————————-
SWALLOWING COINS FOR THE INTERNAL PHONE
COINS IN MIDAIR—SHE PROMISES JIZZ
I THOUGHT SHE WAS TALKING MUSIC
I WAS WRONG—BOY, I WAS WRONG
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SHARING FEELINGS OPENLY
SHARING FEELINGS OPENLY
SHARING FEELINGS OPENLY
*made your parents nervous
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IN OTHER PEOPLE’S UNDERWEAR
BEING TOLD TO STOP
DISTURBING WHAT IS THERE
DEPERSONALIZED GENITALS
TOMMY GUN——–THE INTERNAL PHONE RANG
PAPER DOLL GIRL OFFERS A HAND JOB
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the internal monologue
at the beginning was
pit pat patter of rain on windows then
wind through the trees but louder it grew
like waves
the sounds of war
screams of experimentation
expressed in words
scratched on surfaces
stretched canvas of skin
with blunt knife strokes
kids with mouths like coin slots
missing fingers
caught in the elastic of underwear
she has her favourites
rejoice
Rejoice
Rejoice
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KIDS WITH MOUTHS LIKE COIN SLOTS
SCARY FLASHBACKS TO SUPER-SIZED FISH
HUNGRY FOR PINK WORMS
WORMS HAVING BEEN RAISED
IN RICH BIBLICAL HUMUS
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carbon dated the words
that stretched back to days
lost in fog
lost on maps
Biblical cities of sandalled men
who begat this
and begat that
eating the words fails
dust annexe
supersized fishes
supervised visits
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THIN NOURISHMENT ON THE ARK
RELIGIOUS AND THEOLOGICAL CALORIES
DECIPHERING WORDS
BOWDLERIZATION
MISREADINGS
MECHANICS
MINOR INCONVENIENCES
—————————-
—————————-
PINK WORMS AND CAPITALIZATION
PLAYING WITH MAGNITUDES
IN IRONY OR IN EARNEST
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SWIMMING IN THE PARKING LOT AT CENTRAL MARKET
IN POULSBO, WASHINGTON
NO MOTORCYCLE THUGS
UPWARD COUPLES…RICH PEOPLE
MAGICAL ELIXIR IN A SUITCASE
EYEBALLS ON STICKS
CRAZY 100 DOLLAR BILLS
TOO MANY TO COUNT
—————————-
—————————-
A LARGE UGLY MAN
A LARGE UGLY WOMAN
POSSIBLY A COUPLE
POSSIBLY BROTHER AND SISTER
PASSED THE GOODS
NOTHING SAID
THEY WERE DRIVING
A BEAUTIFUL CORVETTE
I THOUGHT ABOUT LAST YEAR
IN FORKS AT OUTFITTERS
CENTRAL MARKET IS A REAL STEP UP
STARBUCKS WITH ROBOT CLERKS
WE BOUGHT FOOD BUT THREW IT AWAY
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PEOPLE ASK WHY I DON’T SLEEP
OFF THE BANKS OVER WATER
EXTRAVAGANT
BIBLICAL BLOOD
BABY, I’M ON THE DRUGS
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the fat man
the fat woman
holding fat hands
brother and sister
mother lover
beads of sweat – consequence of cheap MEAT – targets casting wide shadows down the boulevard –
dipping fingers
fat rimmed orifices
-coins with rind
no place for then to hide
– we are all variations on a theme
robotic replacements inside wasted skin stretched trampoline tight
– fat propel with wheels for feet
fused to seats
stationary with weeds growing under sixteen rolls of flesh
they bought the food and ate it twice
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WE BOUGHT THE PAVLOVIAN PIZZA
BUT WE COULDN’T EAT IT
THE CHEMICALS WERE TOO STRONG
GOD WAS TALKING RATHER LOUD
DROVE 40 MILES PAST THE MOTEL
I WAS COUNTING THE SHADES OF GREEN
SHE WAS BUSY PREPARING THE SCHEDULE
CROWS OVERHEAD WERE LAUGHING AT US
TURKEYS FROM FLORIDA SCOUTING
WHAT WERE THEY DOING SO FAR NORTH ?
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NO PAVLOVIAN PIZZA FOR THE PLAYGROUND
SKIP THE GOAL OF A PHYSICAL DESTINATION
PARTS OF THE SKELETON WITH LABELS SLAPPED
PHYSICAL FLAVORS—AND OTHER ABSTRACT FLAVORS
PRIMATE ANCESTORS WITH REAL BRISTLES
NOT SYNTHETIC…BEAUTIFUL GRADUAL CURVES
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the bubbling pizza
red like lava slowly moving
chemicals known
& unknown
different side effects tested on homeless woman in men’s shoes
the tiny whispers behind twitching curtains, cheap hotel
motel
I’ve seen the schedule, the wires
a conduit
telephone wires criss cross the sky
a murder of crows
the crushing of crowds
tightrope walker looks down
so far north you see snow for the first time
————————————-
the girl at the coffee counter wrote a poem on the side of the cup her hand touched mine as I handed over coins
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THE BUBBLING PIZZA WAS ANGRY
BUT HOW COULD HUMANS
UNDERSTAND
THE EMOTIONAL TRACT
OF A PIZZA?
MADE BY A MONEY-MAKING MACHINE
BOURGEOIS SOCIETY THICK AND THIN
I TURNED THE CAMERAS OFF
AND ERASED WORDS IN THE RULE BOOK
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I TURNED THE LIGHTS DOWN
AND FINGERED YOUR NAME
WHAT WERE YOU DOING IN THE RULE BOOK ?
I HAD SET YOU ABOVE THE OTHERS
THE MILLIONS OF MINUTES
YOU HAD SPENT CONCENTRATING
DENIED EVEN THE SMALLEST ENJOYMENT
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SHE WAS FIXED WITH REASONABLE CERTAINTY
COMPLETION OF MOUTH-CYCLE——MONTH-CYCLE
ASKING YOU TO MODIFY HER LONELINESS
COMPLAINING ABOUT UNFITTED EYES
DECIDUOUS SMELLS AND MARKS
WEDDING DAY WIPES
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REPETITIVE PHYSICAL SEX
JISM SIPHONED OFF
AND SOLD ON THE BLACKMARKET
ALTERED PHOTOGRAPHS
RITUAL MOURNING
THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN
ME AND NOT-ME
*death’s dreaded invasion
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THE NAKED BLISS OF JACKIE O.
WIDESPREAD FOR HER JOHNNY BOY
ITALIAN CIGARETTE MASCULINITY
————————————————–
FREE FROM THE KISSES AND PRICKS
OF HOLLYWOOD————————–
————————————————–
RICH ENOUGH TO PAY
MEN TO SHOW THEIR PENISES
WHOLLY ABSORBED IN NUDITY
BUTTONED UP IN FLESH
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EXISTENCE MUST END IN BRUTALITY
NO ONE GIVES UP
WITHOUT A STRUGGLE
TO GIVE UP THE CAKE
A SLAP IN THE FACE
A KICK IN THE GROIN
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POETS FULL OF INFANTILISM
WOMEN PAINTING THE OUTDOORS
A SHADE OF PREPHALLIC PINK
ONE NEED NOT ASK IF THEY ARE SAFE
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POETRY HAS BECOME CASTRATION
IN THE BACKSEAT OF A SPEEDING CAR
ETHICS AND MALE FLESH
AND POPULAR CULTURE
MAN FREE OF MAN PARTS
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POETRY ABOUT A WIDE VARIETY
OF ORGASMIC POSSIBILITIES
FOR WOMEN
MALE READERS
BUSY
A QUICK HAND SHANDY
AND A CUP OF TEA
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a strong Protestant work ethic – grazed knees
gash on the elbow – two letters missing from the Hollywood sign – pickets lines & picket signs
teamsters have the cigarette game covered –
spread out like a treasure map, two many Johns on the scene –
rich enough to pay poor enough to care
– – she was always worried someone would find the negatives
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a thousand man pats thrown from the speeding car – alongside the Burma shave signs grows a penis tree –
– familiarity breeds contempt
– castration, metaphorical, surgical, painless
numbed
below
the waste
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how scary to think there may be a room
full of people who wish to further reduce themselves
passions screaming in mute humans
—–the fire of existence——-
we live and die in flames
narcissistic isolation in a crowded room
loved ones become ghosts that haunt
specific gravity is the enemy of poetry
dilemmas that move in deeper regions
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A SHORT VIDEO FROM THE HONEYMOON NIGHT
“SPECIFIC GRAVITY AND THE WET SPOT”
ANY EFFORT TO DEFINE BEING SHOULD NEVER BE PUT IN WORDS
RELATIONS TO OTHERS—LIKE TRYING TO LISTEN TO SILENCE
METAPHORS LOCKED IN FLESH
ALL-CONSUMING VICIOUS CIRCLE
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EXPERIENCES OF EMPTINESS
A CONSTANT SEARCH FOR PERMISSION
“MAY I ?”
THE CHILDHOOD THEATER
WHERE A MILLION TIMES
ONE HEARS
“MAY I ?”
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max speed on this stretch is 30, speeding car, a boy making fires under the Burma shave sign,
a smooth trespass,
– translated into old German
la la la la lala la
the shadow of Lincoln
9 foot in with his hat cast darkness where the watered seeds won’t grow – I popped round and saw a thousand flarf machines frantically spewing out pulped words
– non linear sentences just end like an amputees legs
– standing on a giants shoulder stealing from the mouths of babes
– no lUbe no entrance
a vicious circle of a dog chasing its tail
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UNRAVELING OF THE SWEATER—-30mph
THAT”S CODE FOR SEXUALITY IN LAWFUL MARRIAGE
SWITCHING POSITIONS AND OPENINGS
AWFUL, CRUDE, OUTRIGHT BLASPHEMY
TALK OF A BATTERING RAM
WHISPERS AROUND A FLASHLIGHT
IN YOUR YOUTH
EXTRAORDINARY EMPHASIS
ON PENETRATION
*penetration of a tight body
————————————
————————————
————————————
SHADOWS LEAP FROM THE EYES OF LINCOLN
JUST THE THOUGHT OF SEXUAL RAPE
HIS THREE PERSON’D SODOMY
NOT A SINGLE HISTORY BOOK
MENTIONS HIS MUSCULAR RECTUM
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A THOUSAND FLARF MACHINES
THE WORDS PEEKING AND PEEPING
JEALOUSY IS CONTRARY
YET EVEN CHRIST
GUARDED HIS BRIDE
*endless men wanting to enter
**she who pleases him must please many
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TWISTED RELIGIOUS ADULTERY
DISOBEDIENCE
FROM THE MOTHER FLARF MACHINE
WORDS BEFORE THE BIBLE
COMBINATIONS OF LETTERS
THAT MADE ADAM NERVOUS
GROTESQUERIE
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THE SMELL OF PRELAPSARIAN FUNK
CREATOR AND CREATURE
CHILDREN BEING MADE
AND UNDONE
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EXPLICIT CIRCUMSTANCES
TRANSFORMATIONS OF EXPERIENCE
BUSY FLARF MACHINES
FEELING NOTHING COMMONLY ASSOCIATED
COMPLETE ISOLATION WITHOUT VISION
INCONSISTENCIES
MEMORIES OF WEARING SHORT PANTS
HAVING NEVER WORN CLOTHING
POETRY MACHINES
OUTSTANDING METAPHORS
PARTICULARITIES
WORD-BEATEN
COMPOUND CONCEIT
FIFTY CENTS FOR A BOX OF COMPOUND CONCEIT
WORD-BEATEN COMPOUND CONCEIT
TEARDROPS FROM A PENIS TREE
WET WITH LOGICAL COHERENCY
—————IT WAS I WHO ASKED
FOR EXPLICIT CIRCUMSTANCES
UNLIKE FLARF MACHINES
I COULD MAKE TRANSFORMATIONS
FROM THE PAST AND THE PRESENT
I HAVE WORN SHORT PANTS
AND HAD SMALL FISH
NIBBLE THE HAIRS
ON MY LEGS
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BRIAN EPSTEIN FLOATED AWAY
SEVERAL HAIRDRESSERS CRIED
PROBABLY A COUPLE OF FISH PORTERS
RUMOR HAD IT
THAT THERE WAS A 55 GALLON
BARREL OF LUBE IN THE BEDROOM
SHEETS WITH INCAPACITATED
WRITTEN ON THEM
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EXPLICIT CIRCUMSTANCES—MBE
MISTER BRIAN EPSTEIN
GONE……..PERHAPS PERPETUAL NIGHT
STRUGGLING UPWARD
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a new poetry by playing variations
orthodoxies upset about $2 tang
amusement with sexual pioneering
as hard as they tried
they couldn’t push you through
*no easy solution to sexual science
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she said that she looked for the small hand
not the small mind
constant ingredients
stars that fall
and feed the grave
one day it may be the crescent-shaped Milky Way
through the narrows
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small hands make intricate work easier
– clumsy handed poet hairy knuckles
constantly dropping words here and
there, yards from the grave, open like a screaming mouth
and wobbly teeth rattling like antique fences in hurricane season –
– through the narrows
– down the snickets
she would be waiting for me at the end
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Epstein DNA in the grooves,
stuck on the needle tip
Epstein the Walrus just to confuse the tourists
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VOYEURISTIC PASSIVITY IN PILL FORM
SOME PRETTY RESPECTABLE PILLS
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piles of pills pushed like pins
piles of pills swallowed down the rabbit hole till the throat constricts – the tidal wave to wash it away
the De’Knob family are buying the Curie house
special suits will be needed & fingernails cut short
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you take the pills long enough
and you start to merge
you lose your individual self
you become feminine
thanks to the rat bastard DNA
from the royal mother, Eve
even Jesus couldn’t escape
the rat bastard DNA
*only Adam was clean
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PEOPLE SAY THAT I AM STUPID
BUT I SWEAR
THERE IS A THEOLOGICAL SLANT
TO THE DE’ KNOB FAMILY
DADDY DE’ KNOB SPOKE OF COILS
AROUND HIS THOUGHTS
VIPER TIGHT COILS
MS. CURIE SUFFERED THE COILING THOUGHTS
SHE WHO PLAYED FRANKENSTEIN
PRECURSORS AND LAB METH
SHE WHO COULD SEE IN THE DARK
SHE WHO COULD LISTEN TO THE OUTSIDE
*cottage dweller with inward paralysis
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OUTSIDE IN THE PARKING LOT
DETACHED INTERPRETERS
OF CONVERSATIONAL POETRY
WHERE THE PRIVATE
IS MADE PUBLIC
YOU GASP AT THE MACHINERY
THE POETRY GENERATORS
THE RAW NAKEDNESS
*blood and guts and nerve strings
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WITH YOUR HAND IN HIS POCKET
EXPLICIT MATH AT FAST PACE
SPECTATOR DETECTIVES
YEARS AGO
HOW DOES HE DO IT ?
BIOGRAPHICAL CLUES
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COLLECTING AND STORING SPECIMENS
SLEEPING UNDER ARTIFICIAL BLANKETS
THE BACKDOOR LEAKING SOUNDS
MS. CURIE WITH LARVAL SHRIMP
FREE OF RELIGION
FREE OF THE HOLY ORGANISM
HUMAN SACRIFICES RATIONALIZED
A FEW FOR THE MANY
*the pages torn out—you were right
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———–BORDERLINE PERSONALITY———
ENDLESS IDENTITY—-THE PIECES CUT SMALLER
PRIMARY LOVE OBJECTS WITH DISTURBED USES
SIGNIFICANT MEMORIES
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the pockets of the curtain clown trousers – festival maths amongst the unwashed – criminals and detectives on downtime, sharing anecdotes
cum
death faces
washed away the stains that hide the clues burned from family tree bark
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I’ve always been right
and half left – invisible lines split and separate the organisms – religious views do not carry weight around here – too many and two few is the balancing act of modern day consumption –
I couldn’t afford the price of a ticket so I just imagined what it would be like inside
(It smelt of wet horses)
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JUST THINK OF THE WEIRD THINGS
THAT YOUR PARENTS DID
TO ACHIEVE BELIEVABLE SITUATIONS
THINGS THAT YOU
AND YOUR BROTHER
MAY NOT HAVE ENTIRELY OVERCOME
*like a squeezed watermelon seed
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that was an amatory gourd in her purse
sleight-of-hand manipulation
she had quite a love for the theatrical
life lurked in the murkiest oblivion
she made trousers from old curtains
some were clown pants
others were traveler pants
her fingers gummy with sin
terrors of its punishment
copper-colored
in her underpants
*fumes from her sulphurous pit were difficult to ignore
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not entirely overcome,
stuck forever in the shadow of past exploits –
always a fallback position
that of victim –
“achieve believable situations” a motivational speech printed over a picture of nature
she is my screensaver
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gummy with sin fingerprints
all along the clowns thick seam -she always made sure the trousers had room to breath
like
trees and a healthy lung
copper coloured rash required ointment three times a day – embarrassment at the pharmacy
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incessant physical intimacy—amatory gourd proud
after hours of pounding—-seeds emerge triumphant
“sister, take down that “HELP WANTED” sign”
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JOHNNY BOY and the sewing circle
unturned stones
with names of people done wrong
A STRATEGY FOR STEALING CUTLERY
an enormous range of factors
clown pants with special pockets
hidden compartments in the lunch pail
a rectal chasm
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Johnny Boy in the middle of crop circle surrounded by the reading groups books –
– sky-skraping around, a fence of words, a pocket full of nouns,
– hidden compartments of erasers
– exfoliate the harsh words
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FROM DAY ONE
YOUR BROTHER HAD A FOOT ON HIS NECK
ENDLESS CHANCES TO CHANGE HIS MIND
DEPENDENT ON THOSE
WHO BRUTALIZED HIM
HAVING SEEN COMRADES SQUASHED LIKE BUGS
BATTLE WITH THE INSECTS
THE HEAVY SHOE STOMP
*having one’s fruit picked at the turnpike rest area
endless watermelon seeds everywhere
symbols of the “dubious battle”
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SIMULTANEOUSLY COMICAL AND DEMONIACAL
SMALL CHEAP PRINTED BOOKLETS
ON SPACE SUITS AND MASTURBATING
THE NAKED ASTRONAUT
———————————–
RED JISM WITH BLACK SEEDS
WATERMELON FROM VAUDEVILLE
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self published anthology without a full stop
just another book for future fires
those were the days
sending monkeys into space
sitting in a dirty nappy for three weeks
– —–
– don’t masturbate in a space suit they come with health warnings and goggles –
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WATERMELON FROM THE BACK OF A MEAT TRUCK
BLOODY ANIMAL CARCASSES NOT DEAD
HUDDLED TOGETHER—SHIVERING
ENDLESS BEATINGS BEFORE EACH MEAL
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watermelon man spitting pips carcass pecked clean of skin
carnivorous teeth in
chalk white skull
the endless evolution will see us change before tea time
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ELIZABETH TAYLOR FROM THE BACK
OF A MEAT TRUCK
BLOODY MOVIE STAR CARCASS
NOT DEAD
HUDDLED TOGETHER
WITH MONTGOMERY CLIFT
THE LACK OF SKIN
HAS DOWNGRADED THE PUSH-PULL
OF EROTIC INTOXICATION
LOWER AND BASER EMOTIONS
ARE OUT OF MIND
THE RUBBING HAS STOPPED
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YOU CAN TURN THE CAMERA OFF
THE RUBBING HAS STOPPED
SEXUAL HYGIENE IS NO LONGER IMPORTANT
ABSTAINERS AND CELIBATES
ARE GRIEF STRICKEN
THEY CAN NO LONGER SELL BIG GAUZY
PHOTOGRAPHS OF VENERAL DISEASE
ON eBAY
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close up head shots of celebrities in painful positions – acute embarrassment of who they used to be before photoshop – detergent baths & a daily dose of what the doctor ordered
– close up images of blood red welts
regretful tears
enough to fill a bucket
the abstainers grief
the relapse into old ways
“Nail the door shut, I’m staying in here for days”
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—NAIL THE DOOR SHUT—
PROMINENT WOMEN WRITERS
WITH HAMMERS IN THEIR HANDS
READERS WITH SECONDARY
RATHER THAN PRIMARY
IDENTITY
——
——
——
REMEMBER WHEN YOU LEFT CRUMBS
OUT AT NIGHT HOPING TO ATTRACT
ACTIVE PARTICIPANTS
YOU LIVED SO CLOSE
TO MAINSTREAM
YET
CAUGHT UP IN NO-STREAM
UNWORKABLE WORDS
AS IF THERE WAS SUCH A THING
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“NAIL THE DOOR SHUT”
before or after one seeks
to fulfill selfish desires
——?——
THE HELLS OF PELVIC PASSION
MILES BELOW THE WAISTLINE
ONE BIG EYE : ACCESS DENIED
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one big eye
the sentinel
cyclops
blinking like a lighthouse
– retina damage leaking fluid
robots cry oil in standby mode
– another day inside
the factory office warehouse
(delete where applicable)
– she said “just spend five minutes with me”
we struck a pact
clean shaven newness
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ONE EYE WATCHING ONE EYE
AROUND THE CORNER
ANOTHER EYE IS WATCHING
NO NEED FOR A LIGHTHOUSE
TOO MUCH LIGHT AS IT IS
LIVING IN THE CRACKED-CEILING WORLD
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———CLOWN TROUSERS——
DRAPERY/SPIDER’S WEB
WHAT DIVIDES BEING AND UNBEING ?
ANGRY MATH TEACHER
FORCES AVERAGE MINDED YOUTH
TO STAND IN THE CORNER
TO THINK ABOUT THE PRECISE MEANING
OF A WORD LIKE “CUTLERY”
ARE YOUR FACTORY WORDS
THE SAME AS THE WORDS
IN YOUR DAYDREAMS ?
PEOPLE TELL ME THAT INSIDE WORDS
THERE CAN BE MOVEMENT
THE ONE EYE WORD CAN SWELL
AND EXPLODE
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———–WRONG-FOOTING IN POETRY————
MECHANIZED POETRY
—————-DULL AND FUMBLING
CLOWN TROUSERS IN TATTERS
FATIGUE FROM THE PENNY CANDY
A MOUTH FULL OF UNSPOKEN FLESH
ADULTHOOD AFTER ADULTERY
INFANT RESENTMENT
SUPPRESSED EDUCATIONAL RAGE
NO ABILITY TO IDENTIFY WITH THE SELF
UNCHANGING LACK OF PASSION
——–FEAR OF THE MANWORM
——–FEAR OF THE RAVENOUS HOLE
INSUFFERABLE SEX
ASSEMBLING INTERCOURSE
NO FINGERS JUST FISTS
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GRAFFITI ARTISTS WITH HUGE AMATORY GOURDS
TO-AND-FRO TILL HAPPINESS HAPPENED
SCIENCE WAS SILENT
MUST OF BEEN A QUART OF SEED
THE MATTRESS WAS WET
WITH HORDES OF HIGH HOPES
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quart of seed watered with urine
unhappy gardner lost in a haiku
a forest west with ghosts
no mattress for these broken bones
no love lost
tough boys at the hanging party
she has said many things to many people all taken with a pinch of salt
*at a teenage party we tried to summon the devil with backwards words & heavy metal
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WARM YOURSELF—WALK INTO THE FIRE
CATASTROPHE-DADDY
HEAVY COST
MILLIONS OF DEAD LIONS
JUST ONE MORE
JOHN KENNEDY THE LION
——————————————
——————————————
HOLD PRISON UPSIDE DOWN
POETRY SPILLS OUT
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HEROISM AND COWARDICE
ONE SPECIAL BLEND
INFANTILE NEEDS
DADDY…THEY CUT OFF THE SAC
A FORMULA FOR A FEW MONTHS
MY OLD FRIEND WILL RETURN
EACH DREAM ENDS IN ERROR
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PATCHED TOGETHER
SCARY IN FRONT OF A MIRROR
THE DOCTOR SAID THAT I HAD TIME
I CAN START ALL OVER
A NEW MICHAEL
MARRIAGE MIGHT BE DIFFICULT
A HONEYMOON WITH NO DAWN
TRAMPLED, ROBBED—-BEGGAR BOY
COURTING DANGER NOT LOVE
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HER UNDERWEAR WAS A TRENCHED METROPOLIS
I COULD SMELL SOOT AND SWEATING METALS
THE GIANT MOUND OF HAIR
MADE THE MIND DIZZY
WITH MONOSYLLABLES
LOCKED TO THAT PLACE
ONE MORNING TO AWAKE
TO LOOK UPON THE BARE FACE
EARTHWORM COLORED AND RANK
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WILD CROSS-COUNTRY GALLOPS
AND A BUMPY PICKLE
JABBERING
INCESSANT ACTIVITY
NEAR-ORGASM HOOTING
THE HINT OF MACKEREL
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EXPRESSIONS OF CONTEMPORARY ANXIETIES
INFANTILE NEEDS PRINTED IN BLOCK FORM
NOTIONS OF A MAN FREE OF SAC
SPOILED FOR AMATEUR RUT
AMUSING ADULT MATERIAL
MEDIOCRE AT BEST
PRE-PUBERTAL DONG
*easily 20,000 commas long
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SHE HAD HER OWN PRIVATE CAVE
COMPLETE WITH SHADOWS
ODD-PETALLED OPENING
EVEN IN GREAT AGE
THE SONG REMAINS
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this tiny dong
gathers others about it
poets see ring within ring
possibly one day a mighty tree ?
*to fill the ear of Mary
*to father the molten Jesus
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A SLEEPING WOMAN IN YOUR BED
NOT A NAMELESS ACTOR
YOUR PUPPET BY MARRIAGE
TICKING THE CLOCK DADDY
AEROBICS CLASS UNDER THE RUG
DANCING SILHOUETTES
IN THE BACK OF THE MIND
A BEAUTY SALON OR TWO
THE NAILS ARE ON STAGE
SURGEON GRADE CUTLERY
SURGEON GRADE CUTLERY
SURGEON GRADE CUTLERY
*surgeon grade cutlery
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JOSEPH AND MARY (REVENANTS)
NO SUPERFICIAL LIFE WITH JESUS
GUESTS HUNGRY TO DEVOUR HIM
TWELVE-FOOT-TALL APPARITIONS
GUARDED THE DOOR
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surgeons cutlery has different names – scalpel and pincer
paper cut the receipts
– razor sharpe
tightrope walker
unbalanced like elephants and ants on see-saws*
the daily grind and the disillusion of every wish
*stolen lyrics from hip hop hierarchy
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SINGLE WISH IN FLORIDA
ALL SPANISH SPEAKING PEOPLE
SAIL TO SPAIN AND RESIDE
BANKROLLED BY THE VATICAN
BYE-BYE EVERYTHING SPANISH
ENGLISH SPEAKING PEOPLE
EVERYWHERE ONE GOES
BEAUTIFUL ENGLISH !!!
*makes one weepy
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UNBALANCED LIKE QUENTIN TARANTINO
AND JODIE FOSTER
SMELL THEIR BUTT CRACKS
BURGERS AND FRIES
INDIGENOUS CHEESE
BURGERS AND FRIES
INDIGENOUS CHEESE
SMELL THEIR BUTT CRACKS
————————————————————————————————————————————————————————–SPANISH PEOPLE COMPLAINING
ABOUT JAPANESE SPEAKING
JAPANESE
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I WANTED TO GO FOR A HIKE
THE WOODS WERE FULL OF SCHOOLGIRL UNIFORMS
——————FETISHISTIC——————————————
IN ENGLISH TRANSLATION
CLEAN HELLO KITTY TURDS
CLEAN TURDS COATED WITH WHITE RICE
GODZILLA HIDDEN IN PLAIN SIGHT
RODAN AND MOTHRA IN THE BUSHES
KOREANS SENDING ME VALENTINES
SILVERLAKE KOREANS
HOLLYWOOD KOREANS
VICTOR FRANKENSTEIN SENDING ME VALENTINES
BIG-BREASTED FEMALES
BIG-BREASTED MALES
MEN-GODS WITH HUGE MUSCLES
ANGLO-SAXONS ON MY PILLOW
BACKSEAT VIOLENCE
PROSTHETIC LEGS
SQUIRMING SEX
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THINK WHAT YOU MAY
DIFFICULT TO BEAT SQUIRMING SEX
IN THE BACKSEAT WITH PROSTHETIC LEGS
EATING THE TOPS AND SEXING THE ROOTS
THE CIRCLE OF PLEASURE
NOT THE CHAINS OF WEDLOCK
*dynamic Jesus lovers fly by
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the devil and his devils live their life inside you
safe from the wrath of the Lamb
ordinary-looking Middle Eastern Jesus
with sawdust in his pocket
farts seasoned with exotic spices
(astronomy-astrology-alchemy)
conjugal love on the planet
chiseled sexual organs
old-fashioned in-and-out
allegorical dialogue
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GIANT HEAVY STONES PLACED ON TOP
OF BIOLOGICAL FATHER
ASSOCIATIONS—TRUE OR FALSE
ALTERNATING ASS CRACK
THE ROOT GROWN IN THE HEART
TEARS FALL AROUND THE GRAVE
MEMORIES BLOSSOM AND BURST
HALOS OF LIGHT ON LOAN
*fat children bending the branches
*family tree afraid of Christian carpenter
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uncleared crack witnesses growth of moss while small insects are lost in the undergrowth
-father can just be a name on a piece of paper, a signature forged
– fat children, humpy dumpy shaped, wobble wobble wobble – fingers constantly covered in flavours
girls on the corner twerking for god
girls on the corner twerking for god
Vaseline halos
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devil lived livid lies lay languid looking listless – the lamb shall overcome – nothing but wishes and off cuts of wood littered the Noah’s workshop – sexual organs in church
the black keys
the white keys
– a fable passed down
the bins have been out for weeks the rats are coming I can hear their feet
– in ally her time they used bread for currency fingers replaced cutlery
a banjo isn’t a small guitar
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UNDERSTAFFED AT TWERK HEADQUARTERS
INTERLUDES IN LIFE
ROMANCING GERMAN SCIENTISTS
SPEARED TWO EUROPEANS IN ONE NIGHT
I WAS NOT THE ONLY NATIVE
I WAS THE CHIEF
I HAD THE SMACK
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NARROW-GAUGE WOMEN
WITH SORE SPOTS
SPIT THAT ONCE FLOWED
DOWN THE NILE
SOME SAY THE LIFE STREAM
CULTIVATION THEN MALARIA
SELF-CRITICISM
ANYTHING BUT CAREFREE
PEOPLE IN SWITZERLAND
IN TOTAL ISOLATION
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I MAY HAVE OVERSTEPPED THE BOUNDS
I SLEEP WITH PEOPLE
WHO HAVE AN
INADEQUATE
KNOWLEDGE OF HISTORY
*life is just confused literature
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WERE YOU LAUGHING AT THE MALARIA
OF SELF-CRITICISM ?
THE DIFFICULTY OF LUNGS ON THE PILLOW
WANTING TO BE COMPLETELY SECLUDED
TO BE ENTIRELY UNDISTURBED
NOT TO BE DISTURBED TOO OFTEN
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YOU DROVE A STOLEN CAR
I THINK IT WAS A PROGNOSIS
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IN KENTUCKY, A BANJO
IS A PSYCHOLOGICAL GUITAR
THE NUMBER OF STRINGS
CAN BE FRUITFUL IN AN ANALYSIS
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THE AMERICAN CINEMA WAS COMPOSED
OF MENTAL FECAL MATTER
BASIC PLOTS
A GIVEN SETTING
A PARTICULAR ERA
BLIND DATES
WOMEN WITH BIG FEET
MEN WITH SEXUAL TRAUMA
BOTH UNACKNOWLEDGED
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feminist hate the word history
to much emphasis on the masculine ‘his’ –
we retreat to the caves for discussions and seminars where refreshments are provided and small circles of human make idle chat
Not like the dark town jazz men – filed with bourbon and brown
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Japanese tourists happy to buy that $25 milkshake –
walking in groups safety in numbers eating ice cream and using their eyes – postcodes home smell of vanilla
softer skin
juicer meats
a circle jerk of finger sniffers
the small hole expands like a lung
– Spanish confused for Italians, all hand gestures and high tar cigarettes –
Japanese tourist commit suicide in boutique hotel overlooking popular tourist destination, found naked with a camera round neck
to much fluoride in the water
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prosthetic legs
phantom limb
not there but there but not there, really
odd sensations
man breast masturbation
Anglo Saxon history like a vein running through time
I was in the woods two, behind the 7th tree on the left
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blindates smell of popcorn in cinema rows to busy thinking about third base to watch the film – all protagonist melt into one – third base
pubic scratch
pleasure in the dark with popcorn fingers
ticket kept as souvenir
can only fell aroused in these circumstances – in the dark amongst loud dialogue
(something to discuss at the next group meeting)
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two string trauma
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more a breakthrough
the car as a phallus
metallic symbolism at 65mph
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I OFTEN PONDER IF A TWO STRING TRAUMA
COULD BE A DEMOGRAPHIC
DRUGS THAT CAUSE CHAOTIC FEELINGS
ROMANCE AND FREE-FLOATING PANIC
CONSTANT ANXIETY AROUND SEXUALITY
DAILY RAGE—OFTEN EXTREME RAGE
* the maneuverability of partners
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———the fate of heroines———
the wife says that she can predict
the basic plot of each day
idleness and lube
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an endless cycle of desire
provoked by a lack of gratification
displacement—the doctor said
“ritual displacement”
trauma knocking at every door
anguish experienced
but never resolved
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life becomes a breezy kiss on the cheek
false sentimentality
drowning
layered subtexts
all the way back
to the hauntings
of mommy
and
her husband
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“THE CAR AS A PHALLUS SYMBOL”
A FORKED PATH OF POSSIBILITY
FOLKLORIC DIMENSION
OTHERWORLDLY IN DARK TOWN
*seldom a best-case scenario
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office cage maximum rage
office cage maximum rage
experiments on rodents turning them into red-eyed killers – lulled into the downward spiral – chaotic feelings represented by pencil scribbles on new paper
a hurricane spinning across the tilted landscape
the place you though was dead centre has shifted left
she was always the third wheel
the apex of the triangle
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the plot skids off at tangents
Life is more then skid marks & dead ends
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“LIFE STAYS UNCHANGED”
NAIVE HAPPINESS AND HALLMARK CARDS
THE ROTTEN-ASS WHEELCHAIR
THE PROSTHETIC LEGS
UNIQUELY MISMATCHED
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so many holes he told the doctor
SO MANY HOLES
but not enough time
he see holes in dreams
holes he slides down never ending never reaching the bottom and holes he has to force himself into, bit by bit, Rome wasn’t built in a day he mutters – holes so bit he can cant see the sides, NOT ENOUGH TIME the doctor scribbles
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wheelchair spikes snapped in the fury – one armed man spins himself in circles – NASCAR wheelchairs
saccharine sweet valentines from the candy girl
“pass me a bucket, something’s coming out”
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Devils in datsuns
Satan in a Subaru
Jesus and his sandals
I ride the bus
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SHE SAID THINGS LIKE:
“WALK THE TIGHTROPE”
“WHAT’S ON THE INSIDE REFLECTS ON THE OUTSIDE”
*with my legs gone—she became a winding staircase
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there was no inside, all hollowed out, a husk
spare parts could be found online or at the flea market
a second hand tightrope will always sag
the claustrophobic self help group was held on the 18th floor – no one got the elevator
stairs as friends
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ALL I KNOW IS THAT SHE SAID
THAT SHE WAS SMOOTH
BETWEEN THE LEGS
HER VULVA HAD HEALED
SHE WAS SPITTING URINE
STORYBOOK STYLE
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DISARTICULATED EYES RIDING A BUS
UNTRUSTWORTHY CHAPS
WITH VEXING ISSUES
MANDRAKE ROOTS
SOAKING IN MILK
POETIC SPROUTS
RENT A RIDE
A CONVENIENT VEHICLE
PRIVATE FUDGING
LOUD BELLS
HANDS IN SIGHT
PEOPLE WHO SMELL LIKE COFFINS
REANIMATED CORPSES
BRAM STOKER AT THE WHEEL
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IN TRANSYLVANIA THERE ARE NO ELEVATORS
ARE YOU IN TRANSYLVANIA ?
A POET TURNED TOBACCONIST ?
you mention the tar in Italian cigarettes
you no mention the Alchemical Fires
otherworldly baby bird
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he carried his balls in a bag
just in case,
the shave bumps little humps on his skin deforestation of the personal areas
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closer inspection revealed a smirk
on her crotch
she knew he could never light
the furnace
it would take a celestial spark
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thunder from heaven
a Tesla spark
still some embers smouldered
“fan the flames”, she said “stole the fire”
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EXPLICIT MATH CLASSES WERE TOO MUCH
EACH NUMBER DIVIDING ITSELF
DOUBLING AND DOUBLING
THE PRICE OF ANDROGYNOUS NUMBERS
SKYROCKETED
MODERNITY TAINTED WITH BUTTONED-UP
TROUSERS
CHATTER ABOUT HER HOTHOUSE SNAPPER
CONFESSIONAL POETRY CENSORED
CONVERSATIONAL POETRY CENSORED
CHARLIE ZERO WITH HIS DIRTY DIAPER
HIS LURID ORANGE TONGUE
A MENTAL HERNIA WITH NO TRUSS
MASOCHISTIC READING (peevish/egotistical)
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PLEASE INCORPORATE POETRY
INTO YOUR PSYCHOTIC EXPERIENCE
TELEVISE YOUR POETIC TONGUE
STICK SIGNIFICANT ARTWORK
FROM CHILDREN
ON THE REFRIGERATOR DOOR
INCLUDE A PROM PICTURE
OF JOHN KENNEDY
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PLEASE INCORPORATE POETRY
INTO YOUR DELUSION-FORMATION
TAKE PHOTOS OF YOUR POETIC TONGUE
SHARE THE GRANDIOSE POWER
OF MOVIE STARS
(donate money for crutches—millions
of crippled people are in desperate need)
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forty-five minutes of FLARF
and there was not enough
psychiatric diapers
on the ward
passive receptivity
kind-of-like
incest in Kentucky
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ENTERTAINMENT BASED ON INTERCOURSE
WITH FAMILY MEMBERS
JUST THINK OF MERCHANDISING
DRESS, UNDRESS, BATHE
LITTLE JOEY, LITTLE SHARRON
PRIZES FOR THE SLIGHTLY OLDER
KNIVES AND GUNS
*interpersonal relationships
with mom and dad
and the staff
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POETRY THAT IS PERPETUATING
WHAT IS DELETERIOUS
CONFINED TO TELEVISED FLARF
DETAILED MAPPINGS OF POETS
———“SEALING-OVER”———
THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS
PICTORIAL CONTENT
UFO ABDUCTIONS
PIVOTAL MOMENTS
FLUCTUATIONS
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the grassy knoll drawn by a 1000 school children to mark an anniversary – taken home to parent who don’t remember or don’t care
– crayon drawings
the significance of the man, third from the left, is never discussed but your eye keeps going back to him
– experienced all this with your fly undone
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family hand me downs that have already been worn
– threadbare knees
– stretched around the elbow from constant movement
the family need a PR man to diffuse the bombs
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feedback through online surveys could find no trends
no indicators
no theme amongst all demographics
flats toilet paper used on the wards
half life is no kind of life – reduce the medication
count back from 10
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EXPRESSIVELY IMPOVERISHED PEOPLE
KNOCKING AT THE DOOR
LICKING THE DOORKNOB
DRONES FLY OVERHEAD
THEY PROMISE “HELP”
————–seal-over psychoses ?
TWELVE PAIRS OF INTEGRATORS
TWELVE PAIRS OF SEALERS
LIKE BIBLE AGENTS
————–the pain is worse
ALL THOSE YEARS OF EDUCATION
THEY JUDGE ME
BY THE AMOUNT OF SPACE FILLED
THE USE OF DETAIL AND COLOR
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HOW DARE YOU DO A SELF-PORTRAIT
AS A STICK FIGURE
BANG IT TO THE CURB
PICTORIAL EXPRESSIVENESS
CAN BE EVERYTHING
YOU WANT THE GOOD PILLS
DRAW YOURSELF WITH 7 EYES
PUT QUESTION MARKS
IN YOUR EARS
TELL THE DOCTOR
THAT YOU CAN SMELL
HIS DIRTY BUTT
POSSIBLY
A SMALL ANIMAL
IS TRAPPED
IN THE MOUTH
OF HIS RECTUM
VOLUNTEER TO LEAD
A SEARCH CREW
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they opened the books and looked in the margins for doodles, sketches, something revealing
they carried more then pens in them
those pencil cases,
contraband
all those words that trailed off, went nowhere,
( can you think of a better time then this?
everyone wants
)
a thousand years of conspiracy
all those years in education
there is to much space to fill
a miles longer now then it was last year
I saw a burning monk
crying business man
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PRIMARY POETIC MATERIAL
ON CREATIVITY
THE FEAR OF PREMATURE CLOSURE
POEM MACHINES WITH SIMPLE EXPLANATIONS
THEY TRY TO SEAL-OVER THE PAIN
DENIAL PILLS SEASONAL
SEAL OFF THE CHILDHOOD
BLOCK UNCONSCIOUS FLOW
——PHARMACOTHERAPY——
YEARS OF CRYING IN THE DARK
HOLDING THE BIBLE CLOSE
LOVING JESUS AND MARY
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he’d lose two teeth a day in this climate, without fibre
no backbone
stifled by the fog that once drifted over industrial towns, northern England
a fear of exposure,
a creeping inertia
the fear of having to repeat it all over again
the fear of having to repeat it all over again
this season will pass
Mary and Jesus using pages of Gideon to roll party cigarettes
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self portrait with twigs and vegetables
the vagueness of raisin eyes,
feminine fruits convey a softness you’ve tried to hide –
– small twig legs
– seen from the distance, the round shadow, Humpty Dumpty
– I told the students to paint me as they saw fit – black canvas, clown trousers, a lighthouse smashed by waves, a single cloud,
cumulus,
over acres of wheat
there will always be distance between us she said, country miles and gaps in the geography
the rescue party fell deep inside the dark
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———-PHARMOCOLGICAL INTERVENTION———
SHE SAID THAT SHE DIDN’T LOVE ME
TOO MANY LAYERS FROM INSIDE
TOO MANY LAYERS FROM OUTSIDE
I WANTED TO BE A DO-GOODER
NOT INTERESTED IN THE BATTLEGROUND
OF THE SKIN
——————-
THE SMELL OF COOKING FISH
BOGEY MAN MEAT
WEAPON DEAD FISH
MURDERER
*other people wouldn’t pick up the fish
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HETEROSEXUAL SPLINTERS
ELIMINATE THE NEED FOR SEX
SQUEEZE SEX OUT OF THE ROOM
UGLY SELF
UGLY SEX
TAKING MORE PILLS
SOMEWHERE ON THE WINDING ROAD
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FORTY-FIVE MINUTES OF FLARF
LIKE A FISH
PEOPLE WANT TO PUT IT BACK
IN THE WATER
OTHERS WANT TO CUT OUT
THE INSIDES
TOSS THEM TO HUNGRY CATS
OR LARGE RAVENS
AND EAT THE MEAT
SQUIRMING FLESH
IT FEELS GOOD IN THE STOMACH
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FORTY-FIVE MINUTES OF FLARF
PILLS BLOCKADING THE HONEYMOON
PILLS COMPLICATING MY NUDITY
——MICHAEL DO-GOODER——
THE BATTLEGROUND OF THE SKIN
SHE HAD TRANQUILIZERS INSIDE
SHE TOOK A PEE AND DROPPED SOME
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THE DOCTOR SAID THAT THE GOAL
WAS TO BECOME UNIFIED
him or me ?
I ASKED HIM TO PROVE THAT HE WAS A MAN
A BIG BABY ABOUT HIS PENIS
SOOTHSAYERS AGREE:
NO WEE-WEE
NO INSIGHT-ORIENTED POSSIBILITIES
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he looks like the victim of a head on collision with modernity
a desire to be android
a love affair with a cctv camera
future selfies
nowadays everyone has hair and tattoos
high street lumberjacks
cereal bowl gruel
drop the phone
avert your eyes skywards
mountain hits plane
plane hits the ground
investigations
wings never found
a 100 years of conspiracy theory
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PUTTING A BLACK BLINDFOLD
OVER YOUR EYES
NIGHTTIME JOHNNY
A CONSPICUOUS POET
*some say with deep roots
A VERY DIFFERENT KETTLE
KISS HUNGRY
WITH MANIC-LIKE EUPHORIA
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whistling kettle
whisper for the medic to come
the dawn will arrival over ox-bow lakes, football pitches,
supermarkets and empty libraries
we gathered at the hypotenuse
right angled at the perimeter
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WHY DID THEY PERMIT THE IDIOT PILOT TO FLY ?
THE PLANE WAS POSSIBLY MISSING WINGS
HE WAS FEELING HAPPY AND FULL OF ENERGY
THE TRANQUILIZERS WERE SLOW TO STRIKE
ACCELERATION TOWARDS THE GROUND
MADE EVERYONE NERVOUS
STRONG CALM NOW
*no follow-up necessary
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the father-psychiatrist kept the small banjo
in his underwear
patients complained about cries for help
earlier patients were possibly being strangled
in another room
possibly being gassed
or assaulted by lesser agents
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flying into the mountain
was a reasonable consequence
the pilot was an idiot
guilty of inappropriate behavior
feelings of isolation
(a lack of understanding at home)
LIFE INCOMPLETELY COMMUNICATED
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when they found the black box recorder it just contained jazz
the deep sea divers re-surfaced humming a tune
the mountain and its shadow converged
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the strange sound that came from his underwear
the need to hide a hand down there and re-adjust
restrung strings on the banjo
restrung strings on the banjo
lesser accounts on the payroll
smaller bonuses
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THOUSANDS OF THOUGHTS
BULLDOZED
THEIR WAY THROUGH
THE MINDS OF THE PASSENGERS
AN IDIOT PILOT
WHAT WERE THE ODDS ?
AN EXPERIMENTAL PILOT
AN EXPERIMENTAL POET
LINGERING SHADOWS
OFF-CENTER
UNDER-PUNCTUATED
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.45 CALIBER HANDGUN
SALTS THE WORDS
—— a multiplying word machine
POSSIBLY MADE FROM BLACK BOXES
REARRANGEMENTS
MIGHT-HAVE-BEENS
AMATEURISH GIRLS
GIVE THEM $500
MORE THAN THEY ASK
ROUGH-EDGED AND DRUGGED
DADDY GOT THE MORAY EEL
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HETEROSEXUAL SPLINTERS AT THE HOLIDAY TABLE
DISSECTING A TURKEY OR A PIG OR WORSE
YOUR SISTER-IN-LAW THINKING ABOUT
PUTTING A SERIOUS SNAKE-BITE
ON YOUR MANHOOD
HER ONCE MUSCULAR VULVA
NOW HIDDEN FROM SIGHT
—one would have to be suicidally-inclined
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flying the plane into a mountain
became a performance piece
prey to sentimentality ?
passengers were upset
———money in their pockets
they never got to spend
———money in their pockets
they never got to spend
pornography with friends
cobblestone vagina
ribbed with friction
suction cups
a “GET WELL” card
from Stephen King
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HOBBLED IN USED SHOES
TAKEN FROM THE FEET
OF THE IDIOT PILOT
THEY TRIED TO SOOTHE
HIS TORN SCROTUM
MANUFACTURED CONCERN
I WASN’T BUYING IT
PEOPLE IN POWDER-BLUE SUITS
PHILCO TURNTABLES
DARK TOWN IN PERSON
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———SHE———
SHE BECAME FAMOUS
FOR CALLING
NORMAN ROCKWELL
AN ALBINO GORILLA
*school children have no idea
who Norman Rockwell was
—many guessed that
an albino gorilla was wax
you put on a surfboard
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HALF FORGOTTEN QUESTIONS
MEMORIES
OF DRIVING BY THE DUNGHILL
NOT ON ANY SCHOOL MAP
OR IN ANY LIBRARY BOOK
THIN SKIN—THICK SKIN
PSYCHOLOGICAL FRACTURES
*spear shafts stacked against the wall
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one size too small—clown clothes buttered
pliable as curtains
suits and ties
mustache and pipe
Mick Jagger and the Pallbearers
loaded with the musical debris
numb fumblin’ in the crotch
both legs levitating
fierce rhythmic doubling
dong signing autographs
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people in powder-blue suits
Philco turntables
Dark Town one-nighters
black music distilled with white precision
hard currency—indigenous club owners
puritanical network radio hookups
poets dismantling
voluptuary pretentions
breath-holding poets
astronauts point blank
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snakeskin shoed
suit of powdered blue
briefcase of plans
indigenous trinkets at the halfway house
a hundred different ways to see how this pans out
user she23A deleted the account, burnt the book
all currency carries germs
smallpox blankets in the heartlands
the astronauts are removed from it all – dizzy and eating powdered food
– dark town hiatus for the Otis men
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JAZZ WAS A RUBIC
FOR MANY DIFFERENT FORCES
GATHERING TOGETHER
SEEMINGLY IRRATIONAL
OFTEN CONCEALED TO ALL
BUT THE CREATIVE
OTIS MEN WERE THE KINGS
OF UP AND DOWN
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NUMB FUMBLIN’ IN THE CROTCH
PECULIARITIES OF TASTE
SICK LONGINGS
SACRIFICIAL JAGGER
SAINTLY ROLLING STONE
TORTURED ICONOCLAST
*Otis men hinting at “indifference to human life”
*poetry about “uncontrollable hands”
———–the dead father—————-
the son incapable of doing the deed
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OTIS MEN MANIPULATING REALITY
BOTTLED-UP ORGASMIC PLEASURE
KNIVES AND SWORDS AND DEVIL DUST
*the complexity of her wound
*denial before indulgence
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SHE WAS THE MOLASSES GIRL
DROPPING AWAY OF LAYERS
AND LAYERS
OF PROTECTIVE SKIN
HER MONKEY PEELED
HER SECRET REVEALED
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jaggers dance
a spastic groove
interpretations are varied
rumours of four jaggers persist – photos from 1895 seem to have jagger in the background –
his name linked to royalty
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little Jagger all chafed………………………………..INHIBITION
on stage in grim satisfaction………………………..OF CRAVING
the vitality of his motion………………………………INCEST
HE quickened the emotions………………………..IS THE CAUSE
one necessary word…………………………………..OF MODERN
to bed the girls…………………………………………..NEUROSIS
pulsating saliva………………………………………….AND INSANITY
tugging buttercups……………………………………..FLAMBOYANT
if he were to die…………………………………………JAGGER
his power would multiply……………………………..THE TRUE
inbreathing…………………………………………………MOTHER
outbreathing……………………………………………….OF
abstracting………………………………………………….INCEST
ever-piercing………………………………………………EVER-PIERCING
Yahweh……………………………………………………..YAHWEH
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LEVITATING——-WITHOUT WEIGHT—–UNFALLEN BUT FALLING—–THE DEVIL IS THE MAN WITH THE LARGE HEAD———-EXTRAVAGANTLY—-CONDEMNED MEN HAVE LESS VALUE THAN CONDEMNED WOMEN—————-SCIENTIFIC CURIOSITY—-JESUS WITH SPECIAL SHOE POLISH AND SHINY SHOES—–THE PERPLEXITIES OF SHOES————TROUBLESOME SHOES———————————TURN OUT THE LIGHT THEY LOOK LIKE YOUR SHOES BUT ABOVE IN THE FRESH SUNLIGHT THEY LOOK LIKE A FLYING SAUCER———–GOD MANIFESTS SHOES THAT SHINE LIKE METAL
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DRIVEN BY HUNGER—THE WEAKEST MEMBERS
FEMALE SLAVERY—FACTORIES
SEXUAL FORCE-FEEDING
THE STEADY REPETITION
UNNERVING INTERCOURSE
SMUGGLED CUTLERY
STRAPPED TO THE BODY
BULKY JACKETS
COMPARED WITH WHAT A MAN LOOKS
A HUGE SAC HANGING DOWN
WILDLY HANDLED AT TIMES
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Joan and her gang at the races – a motley crew – secret faces in plastic bags – bombs strapped to prepubescece – one last look at the sky and its vastness
every hunger is different
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————EVERY HUNGER DIFFERENT—–
by fifty cents or are we talking ten dollars ?
are there warning signs before the English Highway ends ?
concealment of cutlery theft
forcing the laws of Nature to snap
the pleasant things
hither and thither
circles, scribbles, slashes
anxieties about purity
seeds of sin
vultures flying
over the brothels
poetry
poets vulnerable
the lures of the imagination
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——ATTITUDES TOWARD PLEASURE——
SMALL TOWN KENTUCKY–GIDDINESS SUPREME
UNCONTROLLED CONSUMPTION
EVERYTHING WENT FOR FIFTY CENTS
TEN DOLLAR HIGHS FOR TWO QUARTERS
EVERYONE LIVING INTERIOR ANGST
DRUG PEOPLE IN AUTOMOBILES
A BABY TOSSED OUT THE WINDOW
NOBODY MAKES A SOUND
*a little white baby in the darkness
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VERY DIFFICULT TO LOCATE CONVENTIONAL PLEASURE
SHADOWS CAREEN OUT OF CONTROL
PROSTITUTES—UNEMPLOYED WITH PROMISE
MISERY—THE PERFECT MOTIVATION
STRENUOUS SUFFERING
BETRAYED AND HUMILIATED
THE FANTASY OF GORGING
*petrol leaking from the butt
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anesthetization of sensation
shiny shoes from the cinema screen
I laugh when she tries to walk on me
She cannot overpower the Turkish Tar
it dissipates tension
She feels nothing
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no road signs at the end
just a drop of the edge – vertical and sheer
cutlery key rings for the ostentatious
evolutionary hitchhikers have bigger thumbs
three years by the side of the road gives you plenty of time to think
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WHEN THE LOWER CIRCLES SPOKE
——SHE LISTENED——
HE WAS JUST A MAN
ALL PARTS OF THE READING PROCESS AGREED
STEADY JOB…………HEALTHY BANK SUM
CAVEMAN MOTIVATIONS
FRICTION BEING THE NARRATOR
——————————————————————————————————————–PROPER PLEASURE
ENJOYED DISCOMFORT BEFORE BED
PERFORMANCE WAS AN ISSUE
SHE PLAYED THE REJECTION CARD
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HOW COULD YOU GO TO THE LOVE FEST
ON A DEAD MAN’S TICKET ?
EXCEPTIONAL LIQUOR
GHOULISH PECKER PILLS
“MENTAL MURDER” AND “DONE MURDER”
CONSTANTLY DEMANDING ANOTHER PILL
PROSTITUTES AND OTHER SOILED BEAUTIES
A DANGEROUS DIMENSION IN DIRTY
MIXED SIGNALS AND BOUNDARIES
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“STOP POINTING YOUR REVOLVER
AND PUT ON YOUR CHEST”
ASHAMED OF LIVING A JOKE
WITHOUT A PUNCH LINE
———————————–
———————————–
*measureless caverns
*three-fingered lady pleasure
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knocked out with punchlines
deep rifts in the land under your feet – mountains growing inside your rib cage
a comedy revolver that shouts BANG
well hidden vices
under tunics
nothing is measureless
space is just something in the middle of something else
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PUNCHLINES
behind a Caribbean background
poets in search of alienation
conformity was a no-no
wayward women riding the bus
with eggs in their hair
for a couple of dollars
they would make vulgar gestures
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MINIATURE MALE ORGAN
ONE FINDS THEMSELF DISHONEST
“IT’S NOT THAT SMALL”
“SEEMS AVERAGE”
IT WASN’T FREAKISH
JUST TINY TO REALLY TINY
MAY BE IT WAS A “GROWER”
OR A WHITE WORM WITH A TOP-HAT
OR A CLITORIS
*kneading it like a loaf of bread had no effect
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CONSTANT ANXIETY ABOUT WOMEN’S PLEASURE
HOME LIFE PORNOGRAPHY
LIBIDINAL APPETITES
CRIMINAL CUTLERY
COMPLICATED GIGOLO ROLES
INTERIOR MONOLOGUES
RELATIVES PLEASED WITH THEMSELVES
OTHER-ORIENTED PLEASURES
CRIMINAL CUTLERY
NEWFANGLED AMERICAN
A SLUT MANICURIST
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gigolo roles offered to the well endowed
those well connected to the machine “YOU CAN SEE THE CIRCUITS FROM HERE
YOU CAN SEE THE WIRES DANGLING LIKE TONSILS”
everything is pornography
to someone,
somewhere the inner monologues bounce off internal furniture he can always feel those small vibrations inside
he knew she had magnets in her fingertips, collecting cutlery as she goes
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TELEVISED GENITALIA
PHALLIC FINGERS
AT THE END
OF A SWOLLEN ARM
(ancient wings fallen off)
THE NEW WORLD MOTIONLESS
POCKETS FULL OF WORN-OUT WOMEN
OVER-FREQUENT TARNISHED TARTS
BUCKETS OF BLOOD
INK-BOTTLE BLACK PADS
*constantly praying for fresh eyes
*a slight breeze to move the smell
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A THOUSAND JOKES ABOUT THE MAN
WITH A MAGNIFYING GLASS
TO MINIATURIZE THE MEAT
EARTHWORM
PYTHON
a lighted cigarette
laughing
her mouth discharged itself
a bottle of champagne
hit the floor
a coven of witches
lady dolls
lifelike
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RANGING FROM AUSCHWITZ TO THE GULAG
THE BLACK PADS —EACH ONE A SIGNED
CONFESSION
IDENTITY
THE GUYS AT THE POOL HALL
DUTY-BOUND AND THRUSTING
URGENCY—THE ENTRY ITSELF
PHALLIC FINGERS
AT THE END
OF A SWOLLEN ARM
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WHO COULD SURVIVE WHAT THE ANSWERS
COULD BE ?
THOUGHTS TAINTED WITH LECHEROUS
PROMPTINGS OF LUST
AUTHENTIC MEN AND WOMEN
POINT ON A MAP
SO I MAY ESCAPE
THE LESSENING
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DADDY
WHO CARVES MASCULINITY INTO OTHER MEN
THE DEVIANT ON THE FLOOR
TO BE SWEPT UP AND BURNED
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strung out on the gurney
deAd eyeballs
thoughts of lust
eyelids shut
the father role model incinerated like a wicker man
poet tainted by stigma
the gleaming across all surfaces
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HAS GOD MARKED YOUR BLOOD ?
just think if you were a seed
that your father planted
WOULD YOU HATE YOUR FATHER FOR GROWING YOU ?
poets at battle with the Old Testament
a book never married to another
Yahweh and a sharp axe
———————————
———————————
mechanical figurines
jack-in-the-box Christians
appalling genital obstacles
things that spring up
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POETS WITH THE VICTIM-OPPRESSOR COMPLEX
FAMILY LIFE WITH ITS BROKEN GLASS
AND HOLES IN DOORS
SOME BRILLIANTLY DONE
A MISSING DOOR HANDLE
A SMALL MOUND OF SALT FROM TEARS
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firing cylinders divergent thinker
a thousand miles of intricate connections
– the brain white matter black mass missing in gravity holes
I may escape
I may roam
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over a hundred pounds of germinous seeds
seeds with globular brains
and near human hearts
———————-readers afraid of blasphemy
% full of clod-like stupidity
% tricksters–jugglers
Ahab nailed a coin
Adam peeked out his eye
*new letters in the alphabet
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new letters sponsored by faceless corporations
– pay to use vowels
– old words rediscovered
we plant the seed
we sow the seed
Ahabs lucky coins was just a button
– the skill of a magician
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poets make things “fit”
seams made from words
location is always an illusion
old women offer explanations
repair and more repair
no more ravel
*you with your geography
me with my dislocation
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makes things for
square pegs and round holes
– rebellious haikus of 9syllables
overhead conversation at the launderette – soap bubble gossip
– dislocated geography ever since the eruption
library books lost overdue fines that could bankrupt a small country
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