can’t use the machines

he’s locked
locked in there
a professional in slippers
the comfort of familiar surroundings

he touches machines
that he can’t operate

a gram stolen from hospitals
hidden inside his veins
pin pricked

Fall over Elvis
burn idols – he

stepped in what was left over
after he had eaten –
the vomit

meat hanging from bones.

It wasn’t like that then
it isn’t like this now

so face facts & remove that moustache it only hides things

tiny morsels and crumbs.

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242 comments

  1. multiplemichael

    ……………………………….HE TOUCHES MACHINES
    ……………………………….THAT HE CAN’T OPERATE
    undifferentiated semantics backdoor kindred phenomena
    pitted against other-worldliness UFO maids and monkeys
    poetically transformed smells………apes stink !!!
    people leave comments in semantic circles
    they claim to be intelligent
    they have to tell me that they are horses
    oh winded lathery horse enter my parlor and introduce me to your horsedom
    often an unknowable is essentially knowable
    I touch YOKO in places that I cannot operate

    Like

      • multiplemichael

        COMPULSIVE IRRATIONAL SEXUAL INSTINCTS
        TO BURY YOURSELF IN THE HEAT OF A TROLLOP
        TO LOVE THE TASTE AND TEXTURE OF HER HAIR
        TO SLOBBER IN THE GENUINE SUBMISSIVENESS
        NEVER THINKING OF THE SWIRLING TIDES OUTSIDE

        Like

    • multiplemichael

      while the earth returns to a healthy state
      I touch Yoko in exchange for commodities
      I fear reeducation camps
      A JUDEO-CHRISTIAN FELLOW IS SHEPHERDING
      LIFE IS HELL AND DEATH IS WORSE
      * why would anyone sequester carbon ?

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        there was a hammer to smash brittle bones
        your poetry was pronounced in English
        —-Jesus was not a work in progress
        you have a nasty habit of wounding some of your words
        the planks of your intelligence was “schooled”
        I smoked cigarettes with the boys from Neander Valley
        one summer I showed them how to build a scaffold

        Like

  2. multiplemichael

    UFO MAIDS AND MONKEYS………………………………….EVOKING TOO MANY FINGERS
    …………………………………………………………………………….TO BE A TRUE HUMAN
    WAS IT A MACHINE THAT KILLED HIM ?
    A METAL OBJECT REPUDIATING ALL PHILOSOPHY
    HE WAS FILTHY RICH AND YET A BEGGAR
    THE GRAND SEDUCER OF BILLIONS OF EARS
    IF YOU LOOK CLOSE YOU CAN SEE HIS CREATIVE POWERS INSIDE MY LOBES

    Like

  3. multiplemichael

    OBJECTS CARRY WITHIN THEMSELVES ELEMENTS OF INADEQUACY
    YOKO WAS FAMOUS FOR HER SAP OF CREATIVE POWERS
    CREATIVITY ALONE OR UNDER COVERS
    YOU COULD TASTE THE SALT
    HER BLOOD ICY COLD
    SHE MADE HIM SIGN UP FOR DEATH
    THERE WAS NO PROTECTION IN HIS DOMESTICITY
    SHE GAVE HIM A RED MARKER AND SAID “COLOR”

    Like

  4. multiplemichael

    PREVIOUS SPLENDOR… THE SOUND OF THE HORNS… HEAVEN HAS STARTED
    MEANINGLESS LIFE NOW TURNS INTO MEANINGLESS TORTURE
    OUTSIDE THE WALLS OF HEAVEN IS A NIHILIST PLAYGROUND
    MEAT HANGING ON BONES
    MEAT HANGING ON METAL
    THE POSSIBILITY OF THINGS BEING BETTER THAN THEY ARE OBSERVED
    IS IMPOSSIBLE WITH A BATHTUB RING OF HOPELESSNESS
    WEAKNESSES OF FAITH AND PERSONALITY
    MISSING FINGERS IN CONTEXT
    ………………..HE TOUCHES MACHINES
    ………………..THAT HE CAN’T OPERATE
    ALL POETRY MUST RHYME………..ARBITRARY BUTT PLUGS
    ALL POETRY MUST RHYME………..PERVERSE USES FOR TAMPONS
    ALL POETRY MUST RHYME………..SENTIMENTAL YET PREPOSTEROUS
    AT THE VERY TIME THE EXPERIENCE IS ELUDING THE MATH MEAT CUTTER
    WHAT A VARMIT WE CUT ITS HEAD OFF AND NOW WE CANNOT CATCH IT
    THIS IS A POETRY WORKSHOP WE MUST COMMUNICATE
    PESSIMISM HAS NO PLACE IN THE COMMODE
    JOAN RIVERS IS ELUDING THE FAMILY
    HER HUSBAND WAS A MODEL HUSBAND
    HE FOLDED UP PARAGRAPHS AND LINED HIS SHOES
    HE TREASURED THE NAUSEA ASSOCIATED WITH PERSISTENT IRONY
    IRONY WAS LIKE A SENIOR CITIZEN SEXUAL COMPULSION
    I AM NOT GOING TO SAY ANYTHING ABOUT OLDER WOMEN
    BITTER PEANUT BUTTER……….YELLOW STAINS ONLY ON THE LEFT SIDE
    MAN AND WOMAN WITHOUT HAPPINESS
    MAN DIES WOMAN PURCHASES NEW FACE

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      a row of husbands with secret codes are activated on a whim – Joan has the codes – she dreams them and captures them like swollen butterflies in new mornings

      when the future poet has no rhyme an online form can be filled – everything is so easy these days it cheapens the process –

      it’s just a magic trick –

      monkeys with a typewriter – paintings of souls going to hell – a fear of irrational numbers – untidy mind – backtracked lyrics imply darker forces – she fondled sharp knifes – aberrations of celestial objects – fear of the full stop – splattered butchers apron – the sinew – meat rind – the fall of the Roman Empire – driven half mad through starvation – the hallucination of concentration camp victims – a line in bingo

      Julian was just a footnote – his name always ended with an asterisk – he was simply know as the “other one”

      Like

    • multiplemichael

      dancing on a burning floor
      all substitutions are loathsome
      with no external force he could make her glisten
      a gentlemanly caress with the eyes
      heaven’s glue came undone
      Puritan Bats flew out to the rescue
      dust from the handiwork of God caused coughs
      “sorry sir, no visitors to that slice of landscape”

      Like

  5. multiplemichael

    OBJECTS CARRY WITHIN THEMSELVES ELEMENTS OF INADEQUACY
    IF YOU BOUNCE YOKO LIKE A BASKETBALL HER UTERUS FALLS OUT
    THE POET HIDES HIS FACE..STUCK ON A PRIMITIVE LEVEL OF INFANTILE SEXUALITY
    NEUROTIC MENTALITY IN 2013………THE ROLES OF SIGNS AND SYMPTOMS
    ALL-TOO-HUMAN ATROPHY…..CUT IT OFF…..PULL IT OUT BY THE ROOTS
    NOTHING ESSENTIAL ABOUT THE POET HAS BEEN DISCOVERED
    SELF-CONTAINED POET SHAPING HIMSELF TO THE FULFILLMENT
    CREATIVE PURPOSE POWERS THE ALARM CLOCK
    A CRUEL HYPOTHETICAL CENSOR STANDS GUARD
    OBJECTS CARRY WITHIN THEMSELVES ELEMENTS OF INADEQUACY
    IF YOU BOUNCE YOKO LIKE A BASKETBALL YOU’VE GONE TOO FAR

    Like

  6. multiplemichael

    THE LOVE FOR THE SPECIAL MEAT………..SEDUCTIVE ALLUREMENT
    6000 POETS CRAVE THE MEAT BUT IT IS UNOBTAINABLE
    IT EXISTS IN AN IMAGINATIVE LOCATION
    A SECRET EMPTY SPACE
    DIFFERENT PEOPLE KNOW DIFFERENT DIRECTIONS
    IT IS NEVER AT THE END OF A STREET
    IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH POLAR BEARS
    POLAR BEARS ARE NOT ONLY DEAD NOW BUT ALSO IN THE FUTURE
    THEY ARE ATOMISTICALLY DECEASED…THEY HAVE EATEN THEIR CHILDREN
    THOSE THINGS IN THE ZOO ARE NOT POLAR BEARS
    THEY ARE DISCARDED MODELS WITH DAMAGED DNA
    THEY CARRY WITHIN THEMSELVES INADEQUACY

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      people with mental poverty try to sell possessions for ideas – a day of no thoughts is the slow death of man – half chewed half formed gristle –
      cat scans reveal different synapses in the poets brain – internal roadmaps taking us away

      from the butcher
      from the factory
      from the mathematicians

      from Kodiak bears to polar bears – caged and asked to form sentences for scientists – tests were commissioned –
      they shaved their heads & wired them to electrodes – they held up postcards and told the bears to draw what they thought was on the back of them – they always drew picture of HER –

      the models inside the bear costumes shivered and tried to reconnect their damaged DNA – their bee sting lips
      their tiny bones

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        I tried to correct the DNA but I cannot divide the tangible from the fantastic
        poverty has robbed me of my superman vision
        life viewed from a distance seems a blur
        derision and cruelty color the shadows
        nothing protects one from rejection
        what fun is a coloring book
        without colors ?

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        I tried to correct the DNA but I cannot divide the tangible from the fantastic – ONLY MATHEMATICIANS CAN MAKE THE FANTASTIC TANGIBLE
        poverty has robbed me of my superman vision – BUT IT HAS GIVEN ME NEW EYES TO APPRECIATE THE EVERYDAY
        I LOVE CRACKS IN THE PAVEMENT
        STARS IN THE FIRMAMENT
        NAKED TRESS
        life viewed from a distance seems a blur – UP CLOSE ITS JUST PLAIN UGLY POOR JOHN MERRICK BAG HEADED SEPIA TONED
        derision and cruelty color the shadows
        nothing protects one from rejection
        what fun is a coloring book
        without colors ? BURN IT NOW
        IGNITE THE FRESH MATCH

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        LIFE RUBBED OFF THE CANVAS
        A KIND OF DESPERATION
        A FALSE IMPRISONMENT IN TIME
        REVERSIBLE PILLS
        YOU CLAIM TO RECREATE THE MAGICIAN
        BLACK SPOTS BEFORE YOUR EYES
        AS YOU GO PEE-PEE BEHIND A BUSH

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        FASCINATION WITH THE NEARLY IMPOSSIBLE ?
        SATISFACTION DERIVED FROM DOING COMPLEX TASKS
        CEREBRAL AND TEXTUAL MASTURBATION
        PIRATE PHRASES AND FANCY CLICHES
        STEREOTYPED BODY FRAMES
        SIMPLETONS IN CLOTH TENTS
        sadomasochistic candy made in Kentucky
        playing gramophone records
        and thinking about the girl next door with three fingers

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        EMILY OFTEN SAT IN A POOL OF YELLOW MYSTICISM
        DEFICIENT PERSONAL HYGIENE—IT WAS NO ROSE
        THAT SMACKED THOSE WHO BREATHED IT
        SHE HAD A PERSONAL ESSENCE
        SHE SAID, “THAT BE MY CONFESSION”

        Like

  7. multiplemichael

    A ROW OF HUSBANDS…..REDUCED TO PERSONAL CONCERNS OF THE WIFE
    YACK YACK WIVES LIKE VULTURES OR MOTHERS OF VULTURES YACK YACK
    PEEL BACK A LAYER JOHNNY…..REVERT TO AQUATIC LIFE JOHNNY
    COUGH UP A WORM………….PUNCH IN A CODE
    SWOLLEN BUTTERFLIES TRYING TO RECALL TUBULAR BELLS
    THEIR INTUITION INFLATED LIKE A BALLOON ON MEXICAN METH
    THAT LITTLE GIRL SWALLOWED A PIANO AND MADE DEVIL LIKE DO-DO
    VOMIT ACROSS THE ROOM……EPILEPTIC CONVULSIONS
    THE BED WAS LIKE A CRAZED CARNIVAL RIDE
    MORBIDLY RESTRICTED BY A STOMACH FLU DEMON FROM HELL
    PRIESTS TRIED TO PULL THE PIANO OUT THE HARD WAY
    EVERYTHING GOT OUT OF HAND
    THE MOTHER OF JIMMY THE PRIEST WAS PERFORMING ORAL IN HADES
    SHE WAS VISIBLE IN THE DARKNESS
    A LIGHTED MATCH
    THE CIGARETTES THE BOOZE THE PUSHING JESUS AWAY
    MOMMA WAS ALL ALONE BECAUSE JIMMY WAS ON THE FAST TRACK
    HE WAS BENT ON HIS LEISURE
    ALL ALONE LIKE HIS MOTHER
    THE CIGARETTES THE BOOZE THE REPEATED PUSHING JESUS OUT THE DOOR
    COMPLICATED PSYCHIC STATES THIS UNITED NATION OF MUDDLES

    Like

    • multiplemichael

      wives like vultures
      mothers of vultures
      ???????????????
      life through a jeweler’s glass
      alarm clock hallucinations
      there are no normal people
      few ordinary events at work
      elevated villains who skillfully
      avoid and subvert
      wake up johnny boy
      time to percolate
      no pantomime on the bus
      darkness and impurity are everywhere
      try not to sit on sentiment

      Like

  8. multiplemichael

    REPEATING A RHYME THREE OR MORE TIMES
    COMPLEX PATTERNS FORMAL STRUCTURES
    FEMININE RHYMES WITH HELLO KITTY PUSH PINS
    EVIDENCE OF REFRAIN…..STANDING AT THE URINAL
    ANOTHER HAND GIVES YOU A SATISFACTORILY SHAKE
    EXOTICISM OR HUMOR ………TO HELL WITH ONLINE FORMS
    PECULIAR POETRY IS HERE TO SAY
    WHEN JOAN FIRST WENT TO THE DOCTOR
    HE ASKED HER IF SHE HAD EVER HAD THE DESIRE TO SWALLOW A PIANO

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      She was a comedian of sorts
      she made people laugh but this was normally at her
      not with her –
      her parents never demanded of her – no parents ever demand of their offspring “what do you think you are? A poet?”

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        NOAH ASKED HER TO BE ON THE ARK
        SHE SAID NO THANKS
        SHE LOVED DANCE, GESTURE, MIME, MASKS
        SHE LOVED DRUGS AND NARCOTICS
        AND TECHNIQUES OF ALIENATION
        WHY BOTHER BEING IN A SMALL STINKY BOAT
        WITH REALLY TROUBLESOME RELIGIOUS NUTS
        AND FIERCE ANIMALS SEA-SICK BEYOND BELIEF
        SHE WOULD JUST LEAP INTO THE WATER
        AND INHALE DEEPLY
        MOVE OVER, JESUS

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        Joan was on the ark
        she stowed away in a trunk marked “anonymous mush” –
        she packed 4 faces for the jaunt – the animals smelt her up and down – they sensed things were wrong –
        the animals skipped tutorials in favour of fornication and vomiting – Joan never meet Yoko who was in her cabin in a narcotic fug

        Jesus appeared in a vision as a fish large scales down his side shiny skin oily

        no one noticed him

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        the tossed salad dressing tossed from the human pipe –
        bad mistakes don’t always wash themselves away – you can’t always burn it clean –
        nightmares of corridors closed doors the fear of what’s behind them –

        small rodents scratching
        blue corpse hardening
        hedge fund meeting
        the last political prisoner

        she found a way into my heart – she shrunk herself and crawled in – just add water and she’ll expand to normal size – she’s magic
        a magician

        tricks up her sleeve

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        what the hell did you mean
        when you said that YOKO
        owed her origin
        to a calculus of utility ?
        god bless all the things
        that can lead to our extinction
        zombies to consume our soft goods
        Arthur C.Clark laughing about ballistic missiles
        get smoked up with Arthur
        joke about science
        the world’s smartest computer
        without common sense
        our pursuit of knowledge
        limited by YOKO’s vocals
        defensive shields by Joan
        ———-Pandora’s Box
        relinquishing dangerous sex
        we know that she is strapped
        to your western leg
        like a butterfly
        eyelashes on the head
        the showstopper dong
        are you really Frank Sinatra ?
        the apples and pears
        painted by Cezanne
        in the ape sac

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        she was her own math sign – the sum of the square of the length of her legs equals the square of the length of her hypotenuse – she was all length no substance – no heavier than air – mathematical patterns comprising the measurements of her body –

        the worlds most powerful computer hasn’t seen the sun and can’t touch it’s own keys – it’s mute and cold

        let us determine our end – let the zombies know I have the cure

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        simple happiness is forever out of reach
        sorry about the lack of unique gifts
        stupendous exhilarating love
        harmonized sexual feats
        bedroom athlete/oral magician
        actions that defy all the physical laws
        is that a TRAPEZE ?

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        she told me to wake up but I wasn’t asleep –
        the feeling the memory was just out of reach – a blue sky turning something else –
        unseasonal – hot flushes at that age or time of day
        she made ice sculptures and willed them to melt
        to puddle at the base
        the futility of her actions

        little johnnies hands have been busy

        she stored tins for winter and waited for evil blizzards –

        hammer nails pins we were all once athletes flexible now
        I just don’t know

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        ———————-YOU NEVER SAY ANYTHNG——————————-
        WAS “SHE” THE WEB OR THE WEAVER ?
        A SPECTACLE THERE IN THE SPECIAL LIGHT
        WITH HER MAIDEN BROOM
        A COLOR SONG SHE DID SWEEP

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        SANDWICHED IN TIGHT UNDERWEAR
        COMPRESSED AND CRYPTIC
        VIRTUALLY INDECIPHERABLE
        WORDS DROP BEHIND THE BUSH
        DICTIONARY PAGES TO WIPE
        THE THICK SMELL OF EDUCATION
        KISS THE TWADDLE—NO WAY

        Like

  9. multiplemichael

    I PONDER WHAT TONGUE-IN-CHEEK POVERTY MEANS
    UNEDUCATED PEOPLE ARE ALWAYS CONCERNED
    WITH STANZAS AND RHYMES
    ADHERENCE TO THE PAST
    NO INTERPLAY ONLY “THE EXPECTED”
    CHURCH LADIES WITH MAGNIFYING GLASSES
    INTRICATE PATTERNING
    SOMETIMES IN A SENSE OF SUBTLE MUSICALITY
    I CRY WHEN I TOUCH HOMEMADE LACE

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      I collected lace from mourners as they left the cemetery – like the body they came to mourn its served its purpose – I recycle the lace and sell it to the new mourners – there are always new mourners – life begats death –
      star crossed lovers
      can’t have one without the other

      life is a waiting room for death he said when he returned from the war – the sons of suicide are always susceptible to self destruction –

      I have one black suit for death occasions – one white shirt – frayed at the wrist (right arm only)

      I have masks I wear at these occasions – Yoko mask with horse hair – a mane
      in fact-

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        Sean and the other naughty boys liked to touch the horse hair
        on the buffet table they liked to touch food that was vaginal
        they were over-sized goblins
        compulsive on every level

        Like

  10. multiplemichael

    THE AESTHETIC EFFECT OF SOMETHING MONSTROUS:
    poor people selling their possessions for ideas
    A DAY OF NO THOUGHTS:
    no higher pleasure than hooking a new thought on the tip of a poem knitting needle
    MEAT MADE IN A FACTORY:
    oblivious to the bleak surroundings lab-meat re-evoking mobile fetters
    SCIENTISTS INSPECT THE BRAIN OF THE POET:
    the poet loves his existence more than himself
    INTERNAL ROADMAPS LEAD TO CRIME:
    stuck in a feudal system where performers are kept under control
    FROM THE BUTCHER:
    an unornamented personal existence….everything is red….talk about karma
    FROM THE FACTORY:
    workers alien in spirit….pockets of emptiness….children with gallons of snot
    FROM THE MATHEMATICIANS:
    the boundless complexity of organisms in a dark forest of hello kitty push pins
    FROM KODIAK BEARS TO POLAR BEARS:
    adult bears with necklaces made of baby bear bones learn to paint like Picasso
    THE MODELS INSIDE THE BEAR COSTUMES:
    just a few minutes in the suit can harrow up the soul

    Like

  11. multiplemichael

    I LIVE SOMEWHERE GUILTY OF WALKING ON THE MOON
    AN OCCASIONAL FLIGHT TO THE MOON
    THE EXPLORATION OF THE MOON TERRITORY
    CORNERED THE MARKET ON MOON LANDINGS
    THEY BROUGHT BACK A FEW SOUVENIRS
    ROCKS NO DIFFERENT THAN EARTH ROCKS
    THEY MAY HAVE BEEN EARTH ROCKS
    EVERYONE KNOWS IT IS ALL A BIG LIE
    WHY ELSE WOULD YOU BOTHER TO GO TO THE MOON ?
    NOTHING THERE !!!!!!!!!!
    LOTS OF NOTHING RIGHT HERE ON EARTH
    I WOULD RATHER THINK ABOUT MODELS IN BEAR SUITS
    DID THEY MAKE IT HOME AFTER THEIR GIG ?
    IT MAY BE THEIR FACES THAT WASH UP
    DO YOU FEEL EMPATHY FOR THE KNIFE ?

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      I have written a poem about the moon landings – about the unfortunate deaths of those involved:
      death by cattle stampede
      shaving incident
      suffocated on fur
      murdered by a rampaging bear in a busy street –

      there was no jack ruby moment – no one stooge used to kill rumours

      about the conspiracy of landing on a rock –

      lets be frank – it was just a ruse to piss off the communists –
      no one wanted communists on the moon –

      I read that people only buy souvenirs to remind themselves of places they’ve been –

      the last gig i went shock my organs about inside – my ears rang for 24hours causing a temporary feeling of vertigo – I fell down twice – no one offered to pick me up – they gave me a wide berth and pointed – I heard whispers –

      they will be the first band on the moon –

      I bought a face at the gig – a branded knife for which I have only sympathy

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        UNBENDING TESTOSTERONE—-PSYCHICALLY GUILTY
        THE DRUMS AT NIGHT AND THEN THE SOUND OF THE SHRIEKER
        PHYSICAL LOVE IN A ROOM WITH A CRUCIFIX ON THE WALL
        OVER AND OVER AS A SIGNATURE MOVE
        WHODUNNIT MISTER DETECTIVE ?
        *a libidinal itch is handwriting on the wall

        Like

    • multiplemichael

      empty in the face of the complexities
      the sometimes cruel nature of language
      simplistic and artificial suits on actors
      legitimate puzzlement to real beasts
      only god-like creatures
      could find feeling, sensation, emotions
      and a billion other things in written words

      Like

    • eatmorewords

      lack of vitamin C lead to yearly colds –
      fevers – kids shaking like shitting dogs – a steady diet of reconstituted meat – children under the age of 7 are 34% snot – asbestos factory
      no fruit allowance
      no fish
      lack of iron
      bow legs weak gait

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        BEING DOOMED TO POETRY
        WORDS SPEAK OF THEMSELVES
        A DRIED UP POET IS NO LONGER A POET
        EMILY IS DUST—HER CRACK CRUMBLED
        I PAY PARISIAN WOMEN TO FIDDLE MY GUITAR
        AMERICAN WOMEN ARE ALL THUMBS
        LIKE DRINKING SALT WATER FROM THIMBLES
        NEVER-RETURNING OR EVER-RETURNING ?
        CLOSE YOUR EYES AND FEEL YOUR LIFE
        YOUR ECCELESIASTICAL TONGUE
        EMILY WILL RUB YOUR ORAL LANGUAGE
        PHONETIC EJACULATION MINUS SWALLOW
        TO PULL AWAY, COUGH AND SPIT
        BLASPHEMOUSLY

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        HER UNDERWEAR WAS TOO BIG AND HE COULD SEE ONE SIDE
        OF HER CRUSTED DIVIDE
        THE DIRTY BORDERS OF HER PLAYGROUND
        WHO COULD CHART SUCH A LANDSCAPE ?
        ANY YEARNINGS WOULD BE UNNATURAL
        DESIRE GRATIFIED WOULD BE CRIMINAL

        Like

  12. multiplemichael

    WHAT GOOD IS VITAMIN C IF YOUR SCROTAL SAC HAS BEEN DISLODGED ?
    SQUEEZED DRY FROM PLEASURE……DEPLETED
    IT NOW HANGS IN A HORIZONTAL RATHER THAN A VERTICAL
    (would a cannibal find it appetizing ?)

    Like

    • multiplemichael

      A POET WHO TORTURED HIMSELF AND HIS READERS
      HE LONGED TO REACH THE FAR-OFF LAND
      WHERE POETS SMOKED ITALIAN CIGARETTES
      AND STOOD PROUD WITH THEIR SACS
      NEARLY TOUCHING THE GROUND
      TO DESTROY THE EXISTING SOCIAL ORDER
      TO RETURN TO A WORLD OF APES
      NO MORE SAD BOYS, SAD GIRLS, OR SAD TOYS
      THE WORST THING THAT COULD HAPPEN
      WOULD BE SOMEONE MIGHT TOSS SOME POOP
      OR WRITE ONE OF THOSE JAPANESE POEMS

      Like

  13. multiplemichael

    HER CRIMSON JOY WAS A CROTCH OF JELLO
    AS A PEEPHOLE…WHO OR WHAT WAS LOOKING OUT ?
    ARE THERE LESBIAN LIZARDS ?
    SALLY, GO ROUND THE ROSES
    EMILY DICKINSON NEVER SAID THOSE WORDS
    ALTHOUGH SHE HAD NO MONEY
    EMILY WAS EXPECTED TO PAY HER FATHER RENT
    death tending daddy……….womb to tomb
    HER POETRY WAS AN EXTERNALIZATION OF CONFLICT
    WITH A STRONG MAGNIFYING GLASS YOU CAN SEE WORMS IN HER WORDS
    SADLY, WORM FACES ARE INDISTINGUISHABLE

    Like

  14. multiplemichael

    SEXUAL INITATION AT THE MOUNTAIN ABBEY WITH THE MONKS
    TO STUDY FOR THE PRIESTHOOD WITH OR WITHOUT EXTRA SKIN
    SOME WOULD SAY THAT IT WAS AN OVERWHELMING EVENT
    A TAUTER TIME…. FIRMER BUT LESS DRAMATIC THAN HIGH SCHOOL
    CARNAL AND SPIRITUAL COMBINED….QUESTION IS, CAN YOU WALK AWAY ?

    Like

  15. multiplemichael

    THE FOUR SQUARE FLORIDA SHROUD
    BACKED BY THE LURKING APE
    WITH A MASK OF A GRIZZLED KODIAK
    OH DO PRAY GENEROUS APOLOGISTS
    ALL THE FROZEN OR PETRIFIED FACES
    TENNESSEE WILLIAMS
    HAS THROWN OUT THE WINDOW

    Like

    • multiplemichael

      BURIAL IN A PRISON
      PRISONER FOR LIFE
      WASHED FREE OF SKIN
      ELECTRICITY BENEATH THE FLESH
      THEY SAY YOU CAN SEE THE LIGHTS
      A LONG RUNNING JOKE
      BOB DYLAN ERASING THE TWILIGHT ZONE
      HIS SOUL INSIDE A MANNEQUIN
      PEOPLE IN KENTUCKY THINK
      HE HAS A SINISTER VOICE

      Like

  16. multiplemichael

    ANONYMOUS SEX
    ANONYMOUS FACES
    FEMALE MUD-WRESTLING
    IN RURAL INDIANA $5 GETS YOU IN
    STRONG ARM MARAUDERS…..BETWEEN AGGRESSION AND LOVE
    CIVILIZED POETRY BECOMES UNCIVILIZED…….BROKEN BONES NIGHTLY

    Like

  17. multiplemichael

    OPENING UP AND BEING VULNERABLE
    BOY, THERE’S A TICKET FOR YOU
    ENTER THE ARENA WITH YOUR GENITALS ON DISPLAY
    NUDITY IS A WEAPON TO WIELD
    TRY TO THINK UPFRONT
    CONSQUENCES BITE FROM THE BACKSIDE
    EACH DAY IS BITTERSWEET
    SMART PHONES HAVE NO BRAKE

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      a string of 111s and 0000s leads back to her – she had read your correspondence, opened your mail – edited / censored words – others emailed DEMANDING YOU LOOK AT THEM – bragging begging letters through future methods – in my spare time I design logos for companies that don’t have objective reality – they DON’T EXSIST – future rooms – Otis men in parallel places always moving vertically till vertigo makes their nose bleed – my eyes are heavy my limbs lead – i am concurring her in my English mind
      I
      am
      Yoko in a kimono

      smartphones have no breaks but you can’t take a photograph with a car

      lost phones down the back of sofas and tomorrow a thousands sofas will ring

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        MACHINES WILL HAVE NO MOTHERLAND
        MACHINES WILL NOT WEAR TIE-DYE AND SLOBBER VIETNAM
        ALL TRACES OF THE 57,000 DEAD AMERICANS ARE LONG GONE
        PEOPLE ARE JUST COUNTERFEIT ANIMALS
        STUCK IN A RELIGION THAT PREACHES THE
        USELESSNESS OF COMPETING
        FOLLOWING JESUS’S EXAMPLE IS TOO EXCRUCIATING
        HELLO KITTY ON THE SMART PHONE
        HELLO KITTY IS THE OCCULTED JACKPOT OF INABILITY TO REACT

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        WEDDINGS THAT HAVE NO OBJECTIVE REALITY
        BALD BRIDES IN PLURAL LOST IN BETROTHAL CITY
        SELF-CROWNING WITHOUT A HOUSE OR A HOME
        RHYME, RHYTHM, PUNCTUATION HIDDEN
        DREAMS OF ESTATIC DISRUPTION
        IN THE CURIE HOUSE
        EXPANSES OF TIME
        AND A SOFA THAT RINGS
        SOFT IMPLICATIONS
        FOR THE REAR
        ORNAMENTAL HAIRS AND COBWEBS
        THE FRUITLESS CROTCH
        THE EMPTY GRAVEYARD

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        OFTEN THE DAYDREAMS OF EMILY BURST INTO BURLESQUE
        PETTY-BOURGEOIS EXTENUATING CIRCUMSTANCES
        SEDUCTIVE PERFUME FOG-LIKE OVER PURITAN DECAY
        THE POISONOUS EMILY DICKINSON
        SMILE BUT DON’T TRUST
        LUNGS FULL OF ROSARIES, TAPERS, CRUCIFIXES
        MENTAL TORTURERS FROM YOUTH
        PATHETIC AND LAUGHABLE YET DEATH SERIOUS
        THE GRIP OF BARBARIC SUPERSTITION
        THE DELIRIUM AND ITCH OF PUBERTY

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        ANATOMY IS DESTINY
        EMILY SENT ME SEVERAL QUESTIONS
        what about a woman’s body with a man’s mind ?
        what about a man with a dog’s nose sniffing ?
        can desirable masculinity be measured in inches ?
        will earth let go our foot ?

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        A cat with dog paws?
        elephant with a giraffes neck? Tusks ten feet off the ground?
        a snake with hands?
        naked inches make some blush

        (but only when the inches are millimetres masquerading)

        tell Emily to email me the questions – I’ll put a smoke on her face

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        the Beatle king would say, “open sesame”
        and she would give access to the charmed circle
        one size fits all
        the wet zone
        the pink alphabet slot
        He was a juvenile devil
        restless, passionate, on fire
        *Yoko to stray from the path
        **Yoko from the thicket

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        MACHINE MADE POETRY….YOUTH READING BOOKS
        JOHNNY BOY SMOKING HIS SHEPHERD’S PIPE
        PREDICAMENTS OF THE FUTURE
        I WANT MY ITALIAN CIGARETTES
        MY TUBE OF HAPPINESS
        MY RUB-ON PAIN KILLER
        UNSPOKEN HAPPINESS
        BELIEVE IT, COMRADE
        JESUS WILL COME DOWN
        MY PRIVATE DEITY
        BETTER FRIENDS IN DEATH
        ADAM AND EVE FADE AWAY
        JOAN AND YOKO FADE AWAY
        I HOLD JESUS IN MY ARMS
        I CRY AMID SINFUL ECSTASIES
        THE RUB-ON PAINKILLER
        IT MAKES ME SEE THINGS
        IT MAKES ME FEEL ALIVE

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        a life stored in a Rolodex –
        fingered and flipped a thousand times – words become smudged leading to confusion amongst those who have inherited the device – mis dialled phone numbers – unanswered calls – dead air echoes around the Curie house

        do I look like all my humours are balanced?

        Multiplemichael ensure the plug goes into the right socket – manuals can be supplied for a small fee – well, that’s what she told me

        Like

  18. multiplemichael

    DEMANDS FOR AUTHENTICITY
    LIKE PERFECT LOGS FOR THE FIREPLACE
    FADE, WILT, SHRINK
    WHAT DIFFERENCE WILL IT MAKE WHEN
    EL SALVADOR MOVES NORTH ?
    MEXICO WILL STOP IN CANADA
    GUGGENHEIMS WILL FLY TO SWITZERLAND
    GROTESQUE COLLEGE KIDS WILL PICK FRUIT
    SCARRED SCHOOL DROPOUTS WILL MAN THE SEX TRADE
    A PILLOW CASE OVER THE HEAD………DO YOUR THING
    YOU BE BEGGING FOR THE MACHINES
    MACHINES WILL BE NAZI-BETTER THAN PEOPLE
    JOIN THE MACHINE UNDERGROUND !!!

    Like

  19. multiplemichael

    THE MACHINE SYNTHESIZES THROUGH METAPHOR
    RISKS AND ERRORS/RISKS AND TERRORS
    TINY TUBES BEHIND THE EYES STRONGLY STRESSED
    FALLING PREY: THE TESTS OF TIME/THE PASSAGE OF TIME
    DEFLATING THE TIRES AND GOING UNDER
    DON’T TELL THE RENTAL PEOPLE
    RENTAL EMPLOYEES ARE WORN OUT, INERT, IN AN INSUBSTANTIAL WAY
    HANDING YOU THE KEYS IS AN INFRINGEMENT
    ON ALL THOSE YEARS OF SCHOOLING
    DECAYING TEETH FROM ALL THOSE YEARS OF SCHOOLING
    ……..THE ONE DESIRE: BUYING ITALIAN CIGARETTES WITH A DIFFICULT GERMAN NAME
    A RING OF KEYS THAT OPEN NOTHING
    LOST EXOTIC RENTAL CARS/ONE AMISH BUGGY WITH BURNT-OUT RIMS
    MACHINES MAY MAKE PROBLEMATIC POETRY AT FIRST
    BUT HANG ONTO THE DOTS OF YOUR UNDERWEAR
    MACHINE MADE POETRY WILL BE LIKE PETER FONDA ON A MOTORCYCLE

    Like

  20. multiplemichael

    machine made poetry will be like Peter Fonda on a motorcycle
    THE HATEFUL WORLD OF PEOPLE WHO WORK AT FOOD MARKETS
    SIGNALS WITH SUBSTANDARD RHYTHMS
    YOUR OUTFLINGINGS ARE ON THE CURTAINS
    MOM IS GOING TO BE SO UPSET
    “JOHNNY BOY, YOU ARE NOT SERVING GOD BY SHOOTING GOO ON THE CURTAINS”
    MOM HAD TWO DEMANDS: MORALITY AND USEFULNESS
    LIFE WAS OVERLOADED WITH A WIDE VARIETY OF CONSEQUENCES
    SNAKES IN THE CHOIR WITH ALTERNATIVE NAMES
    WOMEN WITH THE RIPE EAR AND GIANT GROIN PILLOWS
    AN OLD STORY THAT LEAKS DURING SLEEP
    THE PANGS OF LIFE TESTED EACH MONTH
    BURNING RED UNDER THE FUR

    Like

  21. multiplemichael

    ——————-OH YES JOHNNY BOY——————————-
    WOMEN WITH THE RIPE EAR
    YOU HEARD IT HERE FIRST
    CAN YOU IMAGINE EVE SITTING IN THE WILD WITH A BABY ON HER LAP ?
    WHAT ARE WE GONNA DO TODAY ? THEY HAD NOTHING BUT THE NATURAL WORLD
    THERE WERE NO MARKETS…NO DOLLAR STORES…NO TOILET PAPER
    THEY DID NOT HAVE JESUS TO PRAY TO OR REST HOPE UPON
    I’ve read that Adam was so beautiful that Eve drooled when she looked at him

    Like

  22. multiplemichael

    HUSTLER MAGAZINE OFTEN LEAD TO OUTFLINGINGS
    ONE SORT OF LOVE MUST BE REJECTED
    BEFORE ANOTHER CAN BE ACCEPTED
    PROGRESSIVE ACCEPTANCE
    EVERY NEW BABY
    PROMISES HOPE
    CONTINUITY OF THOUGHT
    IMAGINATIVE EXCURSIONS
    DEFEATING THE WOLF
    AT THE DOOR

    Like

  23. multiplemichael

    LIFE SEEMS FULL OF CRAFTY FABRICATORS
    SOMEONE HAS BEEN MAKING ART IN THE CATACOMBS
    GUILT-RIDDEN ENEMIES OF GOD
    EXPLOITATION OF WOMEN BY MEN
    EXPLOITATION OF NATURE BY HUMANS
    THE SOILING OF BEAUTIFUL THINGS
    GROTESQUE AND OBSCENE MIRRORS
    REFLECT FEMININITY IN ALL ITS GLORY
    MULTIPLICITY CAN BE SINISTER AND SUFFOCATING
    PLEASE DON’T TAKE PHOTOGRAPHS

    Like

  24. multiplemichael

    SOMEONE INVENTED ROCK AND ROLL
    TO SMOTHER THE SOUNDS
    OF THINGS THAT NEED
    TO BE HEARD
    WHEN THEY CHOP WOOD
    ON YOUR HEAD
    YOU ONLY HEAR DRUMMING
    I LIVE ON THE FRINGE OF THE JUNGLE
    AT NIGHT I CAN HEAR THE NATIVES
    ANIMATED ONLY BY THE MOST BASIC INSTINCTS
    I AM BUT A CAUCASIAN PIECE OF CHALK
    I AM NOT HARRIED BY APPETITE
    I SUBMIT TO MY LORD

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      rock n roll is a portal itself Jerry Lee Lewis was born in a thunderstorm god fearing Kentuckians vomited at the thought of his hips
      Elvis shared his hair

      everyday I can hear the clucks of natives
      horrible things in the canopy

      people have started to kidnap the maids and drill into their heads to remove the scriptures they will cannibalise the words and spit out shit

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        UNCORRUPTED BY ELVIS MUSIC (casting off the Precursor)
        OPEN IDENTIFICATION WITH MALENESS (on the rungs of the daddy ladder)
        CURIOUSLY AT ODDS WITH BEING A SUPERMAN POET (to never lose to never win)
        TOUCHING PHOTOGRAPHS AS IF YOUR FINGERTIPS WERE YOUR EYES
        THE DRUMS OFTEN SPEAK OF SORROW
        FOOLISH WOMEN WITH GOURDS IN THEIR PANTS
        RATHER BIZARRE AS THEY WALK LIKE MEN
        WALK LIKE MEN WITH SODOMY ON THEIR MINDS
        WHAT WORDS TORMENT THEIR SOULS ?

        Like

    • eatmorewords

      rock n roll is a portal itself
      Jerry Lee Lewis was born in a thunderstorm god fearing Kentuckians vomited at the thought of his hips
      Elvis shared his hair

      everyday I can hear the clucks of natives
      horrible things in the canopy

      people have started to kidnap the maids and drill into their heads to remove the scriptures they will cannibalise the words and spit out shit

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        you said “spit” but possibly you meant “spurt” ?
        I thought that I was safe
        but I was holding my own hand in the dark
        there was no substitute for myself
        FRENCH AVANT-GARDE WAS BANKRUPT
        they are so terrible at math that they can’t tell time
        non-digital clocks are worthless
        even with digital clocks there’s the problem of am & pm

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        No one has the need for clocks – they have phones – no one needs cameras – they have phones – no one needs TVs they have phones – no on talks because they have phones –
        bankrupt but we try and keep the words alive – a broken clock is right twice a day – but it’s still broken – CALL THE OTIS MEN screwdrivers needed FIX TIME –
        time is measured differently these days:
        the time it takes to smoke a cigarette
        the period between Joan’s new face
        meat decomposition
        etc

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        HOW COULD THERE BE NO NEED FOR CLOCKS ?
        RIDICULE COMES HOME LIKE A BOOMERANG
        PEOPLE WITHOUT CLOCKS ARE FRUSTRATED
        CURIOSITY SLEEPING ON A PILLOW OF IGNORANCE
        CAN THE SECRET SELF BE PHOTOGRAPHED ?
        FERRETING OUT FACES…PAINFUL CAMERA CONFRONTATIONS
        CROSS-EXAMINED PORTRAITS…BLINDING LIGHTS
        YOU OFTEN HEAR, ” I WANT TO BE MY OLD SELF “

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        DOES YOUR COMPASS WORK UNDER WATER ?
        MARTYRS KNOCK ON THE DOOR
        WANTING YOU TO SHARE THE SUFFERING
        YOUR HALL PASS FROM SCHOOL
        SAVES YOU FROM FACING GOD
        CARNAL SATISFACTION IS THE TICKET
        YOU CANNOT SPEAK THE WORDS ALOUD
        DEATH-DAY HAUNTS YOU
        A CIRCLE ON THE CALENDAR

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        nothing works under water – your lighter becomes frigid, a useless piece of metal – rusting in brine –
        fish fuck in their own waste – why do you need a pen that works under water? Why do you need to know the time? – tell me why…

        (…NASA wasted millions inventing a pen that would write in space – the Soviets used pencils – )

        resurfacing with the bends my hall pass is lost like the English pensioners lost in Kentuckian backwaters –

        I asked her to blow my trumpet –
        I meant what I said

        Like

  25. multiplemichael

    THE BEATLES WERE TEEMING WITH BUFFOONS
    BUNGLED ATTEMPTS AT MURDER
    STAMMERING CONFUSION FROM HEAVY NARCOTICS
    CONSTANT SEXUAL FRICTION
    YOKO BEING A BROKEN HARP STRING
    ON PAUL’S BASS
    RINGO WITH THE CLOWN NOSE
    SELF-PITY…MELODRAMATIC POSTURING
    JOHN DENYING HIS PEASANT BLOOD
    DIRECTIONLESS, CONSTANTLY STEALING
    GEORGE WITH BROKEN WINGS
    COURTEOUS, COMPLIANT, HEAVEN FOCUSED

    Like

  26. multiplemichael

    WHEN YOKO WAS A CHILD THEY REMOVED HER LUNGS
    SAYING THAT SHE HAD TUBERCULOSIS
    THEY KEPT THEM ALIVE IN A “MAW-PAW” ROOM
    YOKO LATER IN LIFE PURCHASED THIS ROOM
    AND HAD THE ENTRANCE PERMANENTLY SEALED
    THAT NO OTHER LUNGS WOULD FALL VICTIM
    ( a “maw-paw” room is a place where one person’s happiness
    injures the happiness of another person )

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      the lungs were replaced by machines controlled by pulleys and levers – if you put your ears close to her chest your could hear the winches strain – tiny lungs – two small bellows –

      days spend sitting in front of the sealed door – Sean records her random acts of kindness and posts them on the internet – he is a proud son

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        POOR SEAN WITH HIS LIPS OF RIDICULE
        VISIBLE IN THE MIRROR
        BIG JUNGLE SNAKES
        THE TRUE LIPS CAN NEVER BE KNOWN
        THEY GUARD THE ORAL PRIVACY
        AS A CHILD THE PRYING PARENT
        AMATEUR PSYCHOANALYST
        IMPONDERABLE MYSTERY
        JUST THINK……………….
        YOUR FATHER IS THE BEATLE KING
        YOUR MOTHER A BAG OF BONES
        THREE POUNDS TOTAL
        SECRET LUNGS AND DARKNESS
        A VOCAL CAT WITH ITS TAIL ON FIRE

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        MOTHER FIXATION LIKE A NAIL IN A BOARD
        DEFENDING HER HONOR
        HER TINY BONES
        AND FEATHERS
        LAUGHABLE
        BUT NOT WITHOUT PAIN
        TABLOID ISSUES: SEXLESS INCEST
        OLD FORMULA UNDERSTANDING
        THE HOLLOWNESS OF LIFE
        800 MILLION DOLLARS
        SHE CAN’T LIVE FOREVER

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        playing honeymoon with Yoko
        drilling through the icy crust
        sticking it in isn’t as easy as you thought
        it means resolving a multitude of engineering obstacles
        you stick it in and it comes out the other side
        (instead of bang-a-gong you bang-a-lung)
        you can see the bulge inside
        the challenges of burrowing
        you think about the access hole
        being lowered nose-first

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        THE GREATER THE STRUGGLE WITH YOKO
        THE GREATER THE NEED FOR DECEIT
        —where does freedom lead Sean ?—
        THE DIGUISED SEAN IS ANXIOUS TO PROTECT HIS DISGUISE
        HIS MOTHER WITH HER WITCH-LIKE EYE OF THE WORLD
        HER INNER EYE FROM MENTALLY KILLING HER PARENTS
        HER BROTHERS AND SISTERS
        HER HUSBAND THE KING
        YES, THE BLOOD AND HAIR KEPT LOCKED AWAY
        ALL THE ACTS OF LIVING
        THE GOD-AWFUL TRUTH
        THE UNSPEAKABLE TRUTH

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        ONE MUST PAY HOMAGE TO PLUMED MOMMY
        TRANSPARENT ON DRUGS
        TO HONOR THE DEAD KING
        LEGIONS OF ANGELS
        MAN-MADE ROCK AND ROLL
        SECRETS AND WORMS
        HIDEOUS CONSEQUENCES
        DISEASED LIPS
        RED FROM THE FATAL WOUND
        TRYING TO SUCK OUT THE BULLET
        LIKE A BAD SNAKE BITE
        UTTER NOT YOUR SYMPATHY
        STYLISTIC HAND WAVES
        ARE OKAY

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        the arrangement of words
        like roads on a map of Kentucky
        detours to different metaphors
        young people jumping off cliffs
        holding photographs of meat
        question marks for the police
        undertakers and parental guilt
        to digest their experience
        in so many words
        brute physical facts
        wakeful screaming
        outdoor parquet
        with a voice

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        NO LONGER A CREATURE TO BE PUT ON A PEDESTAL
        LOTS OF SPIT IN THE HEAT OF SEXUAL STRUGGLE
        RAPID PLAYMATE UNDONE AGAIN AND AGAIN
        TUGGING HOLY JESUS HONEST-TO-GOD TUGGING
        THE HAMMER, THE BIBLICAL ANVIL—PASSAGE THROUGH
        SUITABLE LANGUAGE FOR INTERIOR REFASHIONING
        THE READER A PARTICIPANT, TONGUE TOLD PRAYER

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        I HAD A DOUBLE-FEATURE WOMAN FOR OVER 9 YEARS
        SHE HAD DUAL APPETITES: KLEPTOMANIA AND NYMPHOMANIA
        WITH LOTS OF EXCESS CASH THERE WAS NO NEED FOR CONFORMITY
        SHE WAS LIVING VISUAL PROOF EVEN FOR A BLIND MAN
        WHITEWASHED AND SMELLING OF ROSES
        WE BECAME MONSTERS OF PLEASURE

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        blindly I touched her face
        tried to feel what she looked like – judged the contours –
        a mountainous crag –
        a forest under her nose
        maybe, calloused hands can’t judged the beauty

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        I AM NOT A DETECTIVE
        BUT HOW DOES ONE GET CALLOUSED HANDS
        AT A KEYBOARD ?
        MOONLIGHTING NO DOUBT
        A PROJECTIONIST AT AN ADULTS-ONLY NICKELODEON
        “JOHNNY BOY, WE NEED OUTSIDE ASSISTANCE”
        —EXTRANEOUS TO THE ORIGINAL CHARACTER OF JOHNNY BOY—
        ANONYMOUS JOHNNY WITH THE MUSCULAR HANDS

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        calloused hands
        a keyboard missing the vowels – small drops of blood on the E key – midnight typing but it’s only 20:03 and my headphones are telling about ninja spies –

        I try and join all these thoughts together – the words I’m reading – the music in both ears – the pictures I can’t draw – flood the senses –

        the duality of butthole surfers – my mind tries to escape through my ears – there isn’t enough space

        sometimes it all mixes into one where I don’t know where it started

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        Fur balls spat out in ticklish frustration – hair at the back of throat constricts –
        la petite mort –
        I’ve seen God – looked him in the face and collapsed –

        Like

  27. multiplemichael

    quivering lungs dear Johnny Boy
    after they legalized the organ whorehouses
    I was no stranger to the Lung Brothel
    the smell of pink moist lungs
    intimate scenes from a Peeping Hole
    Antony and the Johnsons on the screen
    gesture, mime and sounds of trapped-beast
    rather eccentric but a bucket of boiling jism

    Like

  28. multiplemichael

    YOU THINK ABOUT THE ACCESS HOLE
    BEING LOWERED NOSE-FIRST
    IMAGE-PRODUCING
    A GIGANTIC ABSCESS
    FULL OF CHRISTIAN PUS
    SUNDAY AFTER SUNDAY
    AND NOW YOU NEED TO DRAIN IT
    THE LIES, THE BASENESS, THE HYPOCRISY
    YOU HAVE TO DRAIN IT
    IT HAS THE POWER TO INFLUENCE
    YOUR WORDS…YOUR IDEAS
    TO EMPTY YOUR LIFE OF ITS MAGICAL CONTENT
    TO KILL YOUR DIVINITY

    Like

  29. multiplemichael

    SEAN AND JULIAN
    TWIN POLES OF PRINCE-LIKE EXISTENCE
    SEPERATED BY A SWAMP OF NAUSEA
    FIXED…UNABLE TO MOVE BECAUSE OF YOKO
    HER TIGHT GRIP ON THE PURSE STRINGS
    CONFLICTS BETWEEN APPEARANCE AND REALITY
    TRUE FEELINGS LIKE OUTHOUSE RATS
    THE INAUTHENTICITY OF PERFORMANCE
    ROLES MEN PLAY FOR HUGE SUMS OF WEALTH
    ONE, AN EXTERNAL REBEL IN REVOLT
    THE OTHER AN INTERNAL MOMMA’S BOY
    DUSTING HER FEATHERS
    EMPTYING HER POOP BUCKET

    Like

  30. multiplemichael

    WORDS ARE HOLY TICKETS TO DESTINATION
    FAR MORE LIKELY TO ARRIVE
    IF YOU ELIMINATE CERTAIN WORDS
    YOU SAY, “SUCH WORDS SIMPLY DO NOT EXIST”
    LARGE FINGERS ON EUROPEANS
    ARE YOU AN OLYMPIC ATHLETE ?

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      shady figures and street corner hustlers trying to sell tickets to see the new words –
      they say they’ve invented a new vowel –
      WHY WASNT THIS ON THE NEWS? – people always want arrive but forget the journey is more important than the destination –

      I demand a refund
      I won’t retrace my footsteps

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        one may demand a refund
        but in naked poetry
        there is no refund
        the experience undergone …recounted
        past tense…tombstone paperweight
        lips of animal hide without speech
        signs of punctuation—verbal screws
        a poet wanting an excuse
        a courtesy flush

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        RETRACE THY FOOTSTEPS ???
        WHAT YOU HAVE INHERITED FROM YOUR MOTHER AND FATHER
        ALL SORTS OF BELIEFS AND LONG DEAD IDEAS
        LIMITATIONS IN UNDERSTANDING
        SERIOUS FLAWS
        UNHEALTHY SKEPTICISM
        johnny boy to set the crooked straight
        ————-can you remove your cargo from the dollhouse ?
        CAN YOU REMOVE YOUR CARGO FROM THE DOLLHOUSE ?

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        AN ECONOMY OF PLEASURE
        TICKETS TO SEE NEW WORDS
        HOW MANY CAN YOU MEMORIZE ?
        YOU ARE SO TIRED OF NUMB AND DEPRESSIVE TERMS
        ( remember the mother who threw her baby out the window so she could meet new people ? )
        RECYCLED WORDS
        CLAPPING HANDS AND GRAMOPHONE WORDS
        VERNACULAR CULTURE LIKE BROKEN GLASS AND FREUDIAN SMELLS
        A HUGE CIRCLE OF FEMALE URINE ON THE FLOOR
        TAWDRY REALITY IS NOT NEW
        EVE OFTEN WORE A BAD WIG

        Like

    • eatmorewords

      the black bulls who look blue in the moonlight and only be described as that –
      no other descriptions will do –
      no other words can add to their majesty – we know they’re black and it’s the lunar light that transform them blue – it’s alchemy
      I see it out of my window every night – even the drums don’t startle them

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        the drums speak differently to different people
        the passive infant in the adult body
        a grown man as if he were a child
        let the cargo go
        leave the dollhouse
        wave bye-bye to the servant girls
        lusty pressure-gauge boilers
        inferior and unreliable
        loaded with words

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        the boiler room below was fit to burst – a need to release some ballast – to become untethered like a boat at sea(sailors raising the anchors)

        she will need to be more than a passive bystander – more than just a spectator

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        a masquerade within a masquerade
        the changing shape of shadows
        notions of sanity
        painful consequences
        I fixed your thoughts in good faith
        I made you wash your hands
        removed that silly mask

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        bad meats lead to dreams of military ghosts tramping across desolation – tree stumps in mist –
        echoes and screams – faint –
        a far cry from summers in the factory
        a far cry from the algebra on the blackboards – knee skinned on concrete –
        slowly fading the lights going out in the auditorium
        the play within a play
        the mask
        charade –

        only a few can follow this thread through to the end – a rope with knots –

        How much is the Curie house now they’ve found the secrets under the ripped wallpaper?

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        READERS SQUEEZE THE POETRY
        TRYING TO GET SOMETHING TO MOISTEN THEIR LIPS
        HOPING TO DISRUPT THEIR EMOTIONAL INVOLVEMENT WITH UNREALITY
        THEY WANT POETS WHO ANCHOR THEIR WORK IN THE PHYSICAL WORLD
        A MOSAIC OF PRECISELY OBSERVED DETAIL GLUED TO CREDIBILITY
        NOW IS THE TIME, JOHNNY BOY
        TURN YOUR FINGERS INTO A BALLERINA
        AND DANCE ACROSS THE KEYBOARD

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        YOKO HAS TWO SONS—ONE POMPOUS ONE NAUGHTY
        STOREKEEPERS SELL THEM PUSH PINS AND STRING
        AND DVDS OF MARINE CREATURES ALL WET AND SLICK
        HAUNTED BY A HISTORY OF FAILURE
        THEY DREAM OF INHERITING WAREHOUSES OF CASH-MONEY
        A RESOURCE THAT CAN OFTEN TRANSFORM THE ORDINARY
        PROTECT ONE FROM BEING AT THE MERCY OF FATE
        POSSIBLY REDEEM AN ANGUISHED CHILDHOOD
        FEELINGS ARE TRANSLATED INTO THE ACT OF EXCHANGE
        LIBERATING STACKS OF PAPER MONEY—STAGGERING GOLD
        THEY ARE TODDLERS WITH ELASTIC IDENTITY

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        LOOKING AT POINTERS IN BED WITH INSINUATION
        VALIDATED BY VAGUENESS
        SUPPORTED BY CUMBERSOME MACHINERY
        SIGMUND FREUD HAMMERS AND RUBBERBANDS
        VARYING THE TEMPO OF INFORMATION
        CHOOSING PRECISELY WHAT ONE READS
        WORDS ARE CONTAINERS OF STRESS
        POETRY PEOPLED BY PARALYZING REASON
        WITH LESS THAN EXPECTED CONTROL
        READERS HANDCUFFED

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        HAVING A BODY THAT WORKS—-NOT A SACK WITH HALF A HEARTBEAT
        A HEALTHY PULSATION NOT A RUSTY ONE—-MIRACULOUS TONIC
        ANTHROPOLOGISTS WEEP AT THE SIGHT OF THE BLUE-BLACK BULLS
        THEIR SEXUAL AURA IN THE MOONLIGHT—LIBIDINAL SUFFICIENCY

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        FLUNKED BECAUSE OF SELF-KNOWLEDGE
        THE LIFE OF LOVE—DIGNIFIED HAND WARRANT
        A COMMUNITY OF MEN ALL GROIN DIGGERS
        WHEN MEASURES ASK TO BE TAKEN
        THE SLENDER LITTLE TORPEDO EXPOSED

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        she holds no truck the naysayers – smashing porcelain
        her raindance doesn’t bring a deluge
        the clouds won’t move
        wont budge these inadequate words
        more hands to the pump

        all exits are covered

        a never ending chain
        no two links the same
        the head and tail

        a Möbius strip tightrope we walk along

        through a telescope, they can see me on the land between the lake

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        grave fillers
        groin diggers
        shafts of light
        torpedo pants
        flesh wound
        flesh wand
        smoke and mirrors
        the little things
        nicotine kisses
        a time when she tasted of bubblegum
        when teeth clashed together
        the half smile at the damn that wouldn’t break (now it just leaks constantly)
        she smelt like a flower

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        youthful lurches, i remember them – long days never ending – bubblegum on the floor – empty paths somewhere ahead over there or under somewhere over there
        by the sea up in the air –
        all the earth under our skin all written in books –
        calendar pictures on a fridge –

        I wish I could draw this

        there were people at the carnival I knew I’d forget
        just straight away, I would forget them

        jettison the lot

        a stampede of blue bulls was the scene last time I lifted her belly
        then she showed me keepsakes of forgotten generations and we laughed at the history books

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        laughing at history—-the last time I laughed at history
        my hair was frozen and I was 100% dead
        having fallen in the water that surrounds Alaska
        it was kind of funny–I didn’t laugh long
        what was a nightmare, a fantasy, a deep-seated death wish
        would have made Freud proud
        each day from the moment my eyes opened
        to the time they closed
        I tried to kill myself slowly
        I joined in with other people
        and helped them die also
        our narrative was one of death
        we were bad apples
        we were hollow inside—coated with the residue of sin
        we measured up to the code we had inherited
        we were Americans with asphyxiating fingers
        guilty of never finishing what we started
        guilty of abandonment

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        YOU WERE SLEEPING IN THE BATH OF NONSENSE
        NONINTELLECTUAL PLEASURE
        POETIC DEHYDRATION
        POETIC FATIGUE
        SHE IS NOT A VEHICLE OF ENTERTAINMENT
        A HEDONISTIC RECEPTOR
        FUN THINGS….NOT NOW PROBABLY NEVER AGAIN
        SWALLOW YOUR SPITTLE…YOU’LL NEED IT LATER

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        we orbited around each other like satellites – elliptical revolutions to arrive back at the starting point – she touched raw nerves, exposed them as we circle each other
        predators –

        She wanted to show me things inside her walls teasing me with the unknowable – with the stuff that was just beyond our understanding but we have time – we always have time to act out these scenes

        her Suduko puzzles are written in red pen – angry numbers that defy maths – in Kentucky 2 + 4 = 8 – they have their own way of doing things – the retired people in the bingo halls hide their numbers away

        It’s their secret

        Ssssshhhh

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        LIFT HER BELLY AND CHECK OUT THE IMPLANTED ELECTRODES
        REAL CARNAL KNOWLEDGE MAY BE AN EXPERIMENT
        VOLUNTEER FOR PLEASURE ?
        A SEXUAL OYSTER
        THE CORRECT SIZE
        FICTION, NONFICTION, AND LOTS OF FRICTION

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        ALL THOSE ORBITS CAN LEAVE A BAD AFTERTASTE
        KENTUCKY PEOPLE WEAR BREECHES AND BOOTS TO BED
        PARASITIC WOMEN TRYING TO SELL POWDERED SUGAR AS COKE
        THERE IS NO PROPER PLEASURE IN POWDERED SUGAR
        POSSIBLY A PREOCCUPATION WITH SHADOWS

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE SHE
        ————DEINDIVIDUATES AND DEPARTICULARIZES——————-
        YOUR LIFE IS A PET SHOP AND SHE RENTS THE BACKROOM
        SHE PROMISED YOU A CORNUCOPIA OF DELIGHTS
        WHY IS IT YOU FEEL NOTHING ?

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        poets with their love of words –
        what would they do if they were erased? – taken away
        burnt in a town square –
        hidden behind a family portrait on a
        wallpaper walled –

        what would they do? Invent a new alphabet? start afresh, from a to where?

        we learn a lot from these times,
        it sticks to us like paint, tarred & rolled in fur

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        POETS WITH THEIR LOVE OF WORDS
        SERVANT-WORDS
        WHAT IF THEY WERE YOUR SISTERS ?
        WHAT IF YOU HAD TO WATCH THEM BE HUMILIATED ?
        MISERY IN ITSELF SEEMS TO BE A MOTIVATION
        POETS OFTEN LOVE SWEET STICKY WORDS
        THROBBING ORGIASTIC WORDS
        HEAVY INEBRIATION REALLY REALLY HEAVY INEBRIATION
        AN ATTRACTION TO BLINDNESS AND WHITE CANES
        ONLY BLIND MEN WALK BY THEMSELVES IN PUBLIC
        IF YOU MOLEST A BLIND MAN YOU’LL BE DOING HIM A FAVOR
        YANK HIM OFF HIS CALCULATED MARCH
        IF HE HAS A GOOD HAND MAKE HIM USE IT
        “MONKEY FEEL MONKEY DO ”
        RECREATIONAL PLEASURES OF THE BODY
        BLIND TO THE BACKDROP OF WORDS
        BLINDNESS OFTEN DELAYS AND REROUTES
        BLINDNESS OFTEN INVERTS AND DISTORTS
        ITALIAN CIGARETTES AND WHITE CANES
        HEADLIGHTS SHINE ON EXTERNALIZED DARKNESS
        MINOR POETS LIVING BESIDE THE ROAD OF LONELINESS
        NO ROOM FOR MAILBOXES….WAVE AND MOVE ON
        ROBBED OF A BETTER LIFE—SORRY , NO UPBEAT MESSAGES
        NO SAILORS IN A CIRCLE PLAYING AMATEUR JERK
        BLIND LOVERS ASKING FOR RENT MONEY
        PUSH PINS ARE REALLY ALIENATED COGS
        YOU TAKE A BATH IN THE KITCHEN SINK
        I TRY TO TALK TO YOU ABOUT SITUATIONS OF PASSIVITY
        “I OUGHT TO WANT TO BE ERASED”
        NAUSEOUS AT THE THOUGHT OF ERASING WORDS
        NOT A NEW ALPHABET——PLEASE !!!
        I JUST LEARNED TO SPELL QUEZTALCOATL

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        POETS WITH THEIR LOVE OF WORDS
        SERVANT-WORDS
        NORMAN’S MOTHER RANG THE DEATH KNELL
        CADAVERS UNDER THE BLANKETS
        OTHER SUCCESSES AND FAILURES UNDER THERE ALSO
        YOU LOOK LIKE A CLICHE IN YOUR BED
        SO MUCH DISTURBING MACHINERY IN YOUR LIFE
        —-have you ever prayed to wake up Norwegian ?—–
        WORDS ARE WOUNDS—-LOOK AND BE HUMILIATED
        THE TRUTH IS NOT PRETTY
        WE WEAR OUR SINS
        LANDSCAPE OF FLESH
        A HEAD FULL OF CLOSED AND GUARDED DOORS
        POROUS THOUGHTS
        TRAPPED IN THE SCHEMES OF OTHERS
        ROLE PLAYING FAMILY MEMBERS
        THE BEDRIDDEN WITH BEDRIDDEN PROBLEMS
        BLIND MICHAEL ALL ALONE
        SELF-EXILED PETS IN THE STREET

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        the burial ground for erased word –
        a place, sorrowful dark
        as we search on bended knees for the right letter to finish the twenty second paragraph – digging up vowels and worms
        dirty nails,
        just to finish

        Normans mother was hot in her youth – sexy as any winner of every beauty pageant this side of the lake – but thing change – her rocking chair creaks and rocks so the blind can find her –

        crazy lady all trussed up in black
        no fear of the machines – she couldn’t fear anything without a heart

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        POETS WITH THEIR LOVE OF WORDS
        SERVANT-WORDS
        NORMAN’S MOTHER WAS NOT ONLY BEAUTIFUL
        SHE WAS INTO PSYCHIC X-RAY
        EVERYTHING SOLID LOOKED HOLLOW TO HER
        SHE SAID SOMETHING ABOUT FRIENDSHIP
        THAT TURNING TOWARDS ANOTHER PERSON
        MAY ALSO BE A TURNING AWAY
        LANGUAGE PUTS MANY DISTURBANCES UNDER CONTROL
        JOHNNY BOY ALONE COUNTING BACKWARDS
        ATTENTIVE TO HIS INDIVIDUAL ANGUISH
        HIS GRAMMATICAL SWELL
        A LAST GASP MOMENT
        THE FEELING UNSURPASSED
        HIS COLOR OF THE DAY

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        POETS WITH THEIR LOVE OF WORDS
        WORD-SERVANTS
        WORDS THAT WEAR NON-STOP SILK
        CAUTIONARY TALES (TAILS)
        FAMOUS FOR YOUR MISREADINGS
        EUROPEAN LADIES WITH VISIBLE GEOGRAPHY
        LAWLESS SAVAGES WITH THE HIGH END REAL ESTATE
        BUT ARE THEY NEW ? REALLY NEW ?
        EVE WITH A NEW WIG AND A FRESH GROUPING OF CLICHES
        EMPTY SEX OR EROTIC EXPERIENCE ?
        “SHE’S HAD SURGERY—–LIKE A BEAR TRAP”

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        SUBVERSIVE OF CHURCH, STATE, OR KENTUCKY
        PLUMP-LABIAED VAGINA WALKING ON THIN LEGS
        POETRY ABOUT A STANDING FULL-STROKE
        WORDS SHAPED INTO TIGHT BOUNDARIES
        AN EARLY MORNING SHUDDER STROKING

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        early morning blood rush –
        up with the sun – blood converges at the centre – a twitch – she not there
        not beside you – (all this was a long time ago. I remember) – keepsake fondler – her favourite words echo &
        ricochet like squash balls across parquet flooring

        there were no boundaries she wouldn’t push
        no edges

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        ATOMS TWIRLING AND SWIRLING AROUND
        IN ALL THE DARKNESS AND THE FRIGHTFUL QUIET
        THERE WERE TINY LITTLE MOANS
        THINKING OF ODD POSTURES
        AND WOMEN IN WHEELCHAIRS
        AND MANIACS WHO MAKE BONES CREAK
        —————————————————————-
        —————————————————————-
        at the Catholic School they teach drinking, gambling, whoring
        HURTING AND HARMING…ALL MANNER OF TORTURE
        IMMEDIATE EMPLOYMENT FOR SPIES

        Like

  31. multiplemichael

    IT CANNOT BE DONE YET IT IS DONE
    YOUR DAY-TO-DAY WORDS PAINT A DREARY PICTURE
    AN ACTUALIZABLE REALITY—A PLACE WE ALL NEGOTIATE
    HOW CAN THE GRUESOME ENDING BE CORRECTED ?
    POETRY MAKES FOR A TRANCELIKE ENTRY INTO THE THOUGHTS OF OTHERS
    WE CANNOT GUESS THE ANSWER AS WE SEE THE FUSION GROWING
    SYMBOLS OF EDUCATED SIGNALING ARE POSTED ON CAVE WALLS

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      the new boots rub and cut the blisters that form
      the skin changes

      I cant walk a mile here –
      the rituals are memories –

      an empty sac
      dried husk

      what can be done
      can be undone

      the pins pushed deep deep
      deep inside this winter

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        blisters on the feet are a cruel trick of the new boots

        feet kept in the dark but never conquered

        too many years exposes one as a ghost

        creative work is a lock with no key

        ——-recovery of the past——————

        once vigorous now the smoke visible

        to Kentucky

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        you were in the cemetery reading gravestones
        pins in your pocket string around your neck
        a different sort of bad boy
        10 years old and drinking brandy
        too young to have imprisoned wants or Jagger on the wall
        all those choices unknown
        francs have no value in Kentucky

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        ———–deep inside the writer——————
        Freud was handing out notes about pins pushed deep
        he voted for noses to be out of the bathroom zone
        properly socialized people never smell their filth
        sprays and rubs and three baths a day
        abstract blobs that smell like Chanel No. 5

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        SKEPTICISM—-ALWAYS SKEPTICISM
        WE THREW AWAY ALL OUR TOILET ARTICLES
        THEN WE PURCHASED NEW TOILET ARTICLES
        I SAW YOUR PHOTOGRAPH ON ONE OF THE BOTTLES
        I DIDN’T SAY A WORD TO THE MERCENARY WOMAN
        LIKE A DANGEROUS CIRCUS BEAST
        ONE CANNOT MAKE TOO WILD OF A GESTURE
        HAD I MENTIONED YOUR PHOTOGRAPH
        I WOULD HAVE BEEN SUBJECT TO DESTRUCTIVE FORCES

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        the pins pushed deep inside
        all this singing–all this dancing–and now black cat cake
        mister happy is not only awake
        he is fascinated
        an apron of hair covering the pervasive bowl
        deep in the darkness the flashing muzzle
        earthly love is sheltering…measureless

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        SIMPLETONS TRY TO DISGUISE THEMSELVES AS COWS
        SORRY GUYS, WE DO FILL IN THE BLANKS
        BUT NO ONE CAN FILL THOSE HOLES
        THERE WAS A GIGOLO FROM PARIS WITH LIPS LIKE A DUCK
        HIS KISSES PUT A HURTING ON THE EARTHENWARE GIRL
        I WAS THINKING IT COULD BE WORSE
        HE COULD BE A ROOSTER
        OR A BB-GUN AND PUT OUT AN EYE
        THE LOCAL GIRLS HAVE BEEN INVADED AND REINVADED
        FORMER LOVERS NOW PILLAGERS AND SCAVENGERS
        PEOPLE GET UPSET WHEN I WRITE THINGS LIKE THAT
        WORDS HAVE SUCH DISRUPTIVE POWER

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        ON SOME PRIMITIVE LEVEL I WANTED TO USE THE PUSH PINS
        TO MAKE THEM HOLD UP PICTURES AS IF BY MAGIC
        “LIVE TONIGHT WITH PUSH PINS”
        ENGINEERS AND TRAINED FOLK UPFRONT
        PEOPLE WITH BRIEFCASES TO SECURITY, PLEASE
        I ONCE SAW MRS CURIE LIFT HER SKIRT
        I COULD SEE THE MACHINE INSIDE HER
        I SPEAK THE TRUTH
        I AM NOT AFRAID OF CRAZY RUSSIANS
        WITH POISONOUS BLACK CAT DUST

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        why question my conversation with the Elders using an Ouija board ?
        day after day of you skirting the obvious
        god only knows, I should pierce your privacy
        your hidden secret core
        you keep leaving clues about a PSYCHOBIOGRAPHY
        what the hell is that ?

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        her second hand Ouija Board was missing letters – she wanted to know if the Beatle ing was there – the board said n –
        cheap tricks at the bingo hall –
        cheap thrills in the bedroom –
        the elders think of better times gone – they never look forward as it’ll never be better than their black and white history – sepia past
        – seedy times

        they hold no truck with this pyschobabble – with all these terms
        all these ‘issues’- they would call a spade a spade, drink strong liquor and breath in lung-gulls of fresh air

        Back than
        no wanted to be Russian

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        the pins pushed deep inside
        barefoot pain
        autobiographical poems
        CAN IT BE TRUE ?
        escapist poetry ten cents a page
        how much more direct can nudity be ?
        hostility and taboos and your sharp haircut
        SHE carved a nasty cut on your head
        Johnny Boy, have you no modesty ?
        to undress in public and distrust your audience
        sex-role norms and the legitimacy of thoughts
        you talk big about your loaded gun and your bottle of rum

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        WHAT OCCASION DEMANDS A POEM ?
        the exhaustless heart of Jesus on his birthday ?
        affecting passages from the Ancient Tragedies ?
        right-minded ?
        serious-minded ?
        generous-minded ?
        puzzled friends from Kentucky ?
        and through Johnny Boy’s lips
        blow the trumpet of poetic fury
        Platonic Prose worthy of the earth-bound

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        poverty and pride—2 chapters in your new PSYCHOBIOGRAPHY
        a mock heroic effort ? one more inch donated to “domesticating”
        I liked the piece on hypothetical girls and idleness
        wanton damsels with clean jewels
        possibly from the Sex Church
        greater comeliness of the spirit
        ———-??????????———–

        Like

  32. multiplemichael

    no longer maintain borders
    big bold letters
    departure from living
    capsizing literature
    shipwreck daddy
    slip through the fissure
    dissolve among the elements
    one-legged and fiery
    hellfire burning
    apprenticeship
    ‘I’M ME !!!”

    Like

  33. multiplemichael

    SHE CHEATS AT CROSSWORD PUZZLES
    SHE GETS ANGRY WHEN SHE READS ANYTHING WRITTEN BY FREUD
    THERE’S MORE TO THE STORY THAN THE DOUBLE FUNCTIONS OF THE ORGAN
    —–YOU GET HYGIENIC KISSES————-
    SHE HAS TURNED INTO A CON ARTIST
    WANNA TALK ?—UNCRAFTED JABBER ABOUT VAUDEVILLE FRIENDS
    UNSETTLED IDEAS ABOUT GENDER AND PAYCHECKS
    NEVER THE DIVIDE BETWEEN HER THIGHS

    Like

  34. multiplemichael

    GIVE ME A LIFE WHERE UNDERGARMENTS ARE A SOURCE OF HUMOR
    I WANT EVERYTHING EXAGGERATED….OVER-THE-TOP
    I WANT GOD TO JACK-UP OUR TAWDRY REALITY
    RAPID CHANGE OF MOOD—ESPECIALLY BEWILDERING RANTS
    IF IT IS INAPPROPRIATE—I WANT IT !!!

    Like

  35. multiplemichael

    WHY ARE YOU SO PARANOID ?
    IT IS MY EYE AFTER ALL—–I’M THE ONE IN UNGODLY PAIN
    YOU WITH YOUR STOLEN GAUGE
    I DON’T WANT YOU TO MEASURE THE DEGREE OF PAIN I AM EXPERIENCING
    “I AM NOT A MACHINE INSIDE ANOTHER MACHINE”
    I AM A HUMAN FROM SOUTHERN INDIANA
    THERE IS NO INVISIBILITY IN MY FAMILY LINE

    Like

  36. multiplemichael

    NO MATTER HOW MUCH YOU DIG IT IS NEVER YOU IN THE GRAVE
    YOU CANNOT BE EXPOSED BECAUSE YOU ARE NOT INSIDE YOURSELF
    EMILY TOLD ME THAT SOMETIMES THE RANGE OF THE SOUL IS VERY WIDE
    HAVE YOU NEVER ASKED A QUESTION ?
    UNDER THE X-RAY NO SKELETON
    INFORMATION PREVIOUSLY CONCEALED
    YOU’VE GOT SOMEWHERE TO GO
    REMEMBER THE LAW OF MOVEMENT
    “PRESS FORWARD”

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      over time all graves become empty –
      all graves disappear –
      and buildings will be built on the dead and their DNA will seep into offices and carpets and their ghosts will haunt the computers and they will never show up on x-rays –

      they will always be invisible –

      deep down you know this –

      always pressing forward as there are no roads back – no u-turns here

      I have a question that no one answers “who are you?”

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        POETRY UNDERSTOOD AND MISUNDERSTOOD
        AT THE SAME TIME
        POETRY TORN AND TATTERED
        NOT LESS REAL THAN THE ORIGINAL
        THE CAGE DOOR IS OPEN
        THE MASTER IS SLEEPING
        POETIC EXPLOITS FOR SALE
        POEMS WITH TINY CURLS

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        poetry is sleeping with anthropologists in a small tent
        using scientific matter to keep the fire roaring
        long, thick descriptions of undercover meat
        magnified anxieties circle intellectual life
        Sodom and Gomorrah are in England
        playful and entertaining if not instructive
        you yourself a heap of push-pin confusion
        each doctor points to excessive stimulation

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        YOU TALK BIG ABOUT YOUR LOADED GUN AND YOUR WOODEN LEG
        RISK-TAKING WITH A KODIAK BEAR
        A MISTAKEN BEAUTY IN LOWER MEXICO
        ALLEGORICAL LANGUAGE IN A METH LAB
        EXTRANEOUS CLUBS AND SPADES
        WALK HOME WITHOUT THE AID OF THE EYE
        YOU, A STRANGER TO THE PURPOSE OF SIGHT
        PERSISTENT UNEASINESS ABOUT THE MISSING LEG
        PUSH PINS IN YOUR THEATRE OF MIND
        INCESTUOUSLY ADOLESCENT
        POSTCARDS FROM A HORSE FARM IN KENTUCKY
        FADING COLORS ON YOUR STREET
        THE CONCRETE IS GRAY WITH SIMPLE IDEAS
        SEEMS EVERYONE IS DEPENDENT ON YOUR MISSING LEG
        (neo-Freudians try to bum my Italian cigarettes)*

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        GOING TOO FAR WITH HIS SISTER—SO HE CUT OFF YOUR LEG
        TORMENTING HEAT IN HER UNDERPANTS
        METAPHOR MAKING LIPS
        A LITTLE GRIEF FOR A TRUCKLOAD OF FRICTION
        TRIVIALIZING YOUR LOSS—CIRCLING DEVILS
        INCHES FOR A FOOT—TORMENTED INTRUDER
        THE ULTIMATE VALUE—NOT SOME DUMB TATTOO

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        I AM NOT THE GUERILLA OF DEATH
        PEOPLE WHO DANCE DEAD
        THEY HAVE NO CONNECTION WITH ME
        IT IS TRUE MY LIFE IS A DARK MOVIE
        EACH DAY FALLS APART
        PEOPLE PISS BEHIND MY EARTHLY WALL
        SMOKE AND NOISE AND VIOLENCE SHIVERING
        I AM OFTEN CLOTHED IN LOSS AND LONGING
        SEALED AND SAFE FROM THE DIRTY BLOOD
        I CARRY THE NEW COVENANT IN MY HEART

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        dark movies noir
        black and white but we need
        shades of grey
        lost companions are shadows following
        there is so much to explain
        so much hidden away

        hairshirts worn that scratch skin itch flesh scratching daily

        ____________________

        I once emptied the contents of my mind onto a piece of pristine white paper it was a typhoon
        a maze
        all cobwebs in corners
        a hole hidden from the sun
        often illuminated often forgotten

        Normans mother owned a gun called Clyde

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        Norman’s mother’s gun, CLYDE, is very famous
        her husband purchased it from R. Neville, a military chap
        R. Neville was a rather special military fellow
        he was a prisoner of war in Japan during WW2
        his prison camp was near the Mitsubishi factory
        that the Nagasaki atomic bomb visited
        R. Neville and a large number of prisoners survived
        it was totally impossible but it was strangely so
        you would never know R. Neville ever existed
        had it not been for his outspoken views on UFOs
        seems he had inside information about abductions
        and US government involvement with flying saucers
        and the curious beings inside them
        anyway, on one of his famous white clothing tours
        R. Neville found himself in need of cash money
        Norman’s father traded money for the gun
        the gun was CLYDE

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        the earth R.Neville occupied was full of churches, ravines, shops, magazines and from up there

        way up there they watched and it was still a motionless still blue

        the pyrotechnics of the war turned the blue to ochre,
        red,
        orange and they came closer to inspect

        R.Neville and Clyde were on their radar – stooges of intergalactic conspiracies

        the other prisoners were just bystanders, pit part players used to validate the myths – he survived as he was part of something bigger

        the government will deny all of this

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        I have never mentioned the ceaseless wail of the Sphinx
        poets claim death sleeps at the feet of beauty
        self-suppression threatens their existence as writers
        someone push them back into childishness
        someone wallpaper over the door to heaven
        stop looking at God as He drifts farther away

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        IN THE ROLE OF A NARCISSISTIC POET:
        sadly, one must jump off a tall building to obtain recognition
        (latent construction of buildings with pencils does not count)
        *decentered subjectivity is something to think about

        Like

  37. multiplemichael

    you talk big about your loaded gun and bottle of rum
    all I ask is for you to bring poetry back to its correct channel
    fear no more the light of the sun—it is your friend, your Holy Ghost
    I see all the attendant problems with writing
    stuck to your jacket like hungry bats
    I say, “throw your jacket away”
    start the greatest work which your mind is capable
    ignite the spark and ride the agitations of enthusiasm

    Like

  38. multiplemichael

    you talk big with your whiskey and full-blown narcissism
    no one offers you a last-minute antidote
    these are modern times and you must deal directly
    with the obsessive attachment in the mirror
    the fictional invention of yourself
    a collage of partial identities

    Like

  39. multiplemichael

    surrounded by endless questions
    how did the entourage survive ?
    light colored clothing
    behind masonry walls
    the choir of virgins
    that sang over the prisoners
    jubilation in a landscape of destruction
    the prisoners were marked
    for future UFO activities
    R. Neville perceived himself
    as a passive sufferer
    a guinea pig
    for big heads
    or worse

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      Intergalactic guinea pigs in tattered army surplus clothing –
      men, ghosts of their former selves in landscapes of destruction – all of them marked for future use –
      glances in the empyrean vastness – the men as sentinels
      watchmen
      watching and waiting
      R.Neville a flag bearer for things unknown but always out there
      waiting

      a plan devised by big heads in secret rooms

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        R. Neville spoke many times of the Sex Church
        it must have seemed so far away from the prison camp
        2 buildings at the mouth of the harbor
        only a few miles from the atomic blast
        R. Neville never actually saw the flash
        he was busy stroking a Japanese moustache
        there was always plenty of stickwork for an open mouth
        R. Neville was an extremely handsome man
        even straight men found him pleasing
        while other prisoners were working underground
        or being tortured in ungodly ways
        R. Neville would bathe and shave
        and then perform peculiar/robust sex acts
        on Japanese soldiers and military personnel
        their sticks tasted like pepperoni
        and their holes like green persimmons

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        the inner life can be a dark experience
        words having sprung spontaneously
        prospective readers must give way to intended recipient
        (yes, there are readers lurking in the bushes)
        “wanting God, we care not for less”
        *their sex sticks numbered by hand
        *public questions start with a raised hand
        *the physical world is full of hostile hands
        artful representation of the small matters of life
        portraits of appetites—-spiced pleasures
        imitating the impromptu in youth
        the outworn self a total shipwreck
        a wide range of nuance and tone
        becomes a painful toot and poop

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        the words aren’t spontaneous – this alphabet is old – what is spontaneous is the way they come out – they way we put them together
        small stones building Babel

        watch out
        they’re taking notes

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        I thought I had escaped the agents
        I thought I had removed all the bugs but the shadows are still out there –
        -men behind newspapers with eye holes cut out –
        comedy detectives in a town full of concrete –
        -they don’t have a clue

        they haven’t earned their medals – their résumés are fraudulent tales of heroic actions against a backdrop of insurmountable odds –

        -a retired detective is never truly retired
        -a retired magician still does tricks

        -by the roadside
        the discarded thumbs of forgotten hitchhikers –
        the tumbleweed of out time blows through the scrolling news bars cathode ray tubes

        – we only like the sun as we mathematically the right distance from it

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        as though you were being watched by big heads in secret rooms
        they try to confuse you—-openhand or tightfist ?
        chainsaw baby—facing governmental lobotomy
        radium rain outside

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        she is more than an answer in a crossword
        more than a blank face in a colour by numbers paint pad – misrepresentation of the facts –
        three out ten things
        seven of the other
        twice the length from here to the middle –
        a thousand fingers rub sharp edges –

        the detective spends all day indexing evidence, a slow slug up a mountain, indexing dead ends –

        Normans mothers eradicated the clues – underwear stretched to ripping point

        the open hand technique
        horse stance

        laughing at the patty patty sound

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        a thousand fingers rub the sharp edge
        the shadowy figure of God cannot remove the pain
        at any length, it is permanent and rather complex
        I’ve seen you trying to measure it
        before the others made shine
        you are very brave
        seemingly unstopped by any punctuation

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        THIS DARKNESS YOU SPEAK OF
        TROUBLED NOT BY THE SHADE OR DEPTH
        THE SMELL—DEAR LORD, THE SMELL
        BEYOND OLD HAM AND PINTO BEANS
        BEYOND NOSTALGIC CAT URINE
        OR BAT POOP IN A BAT POOP CAVE
        THE SMELL IS A STUMBLING BLOCK
        CHARACTER ROLES MAY BE REVERSED
        POSSIBLE ANTHROPOLOGICAL PROBLEMS

        Like

  40. multiplemichael

    constructed for safety and security
    our tiny vista is not large enough
    for real engagement
    urban concrete for children
    metal trees and broken glass
    the smell of serpent pee
    *music scolds a barking dog

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      no one has a pacemaker here – someone beside you to keep pace – different gaits & remember to at least breath –
      the heirlooms are dusty now
      cracked around the edges

      a useless metaphor
      I’m sure

      *quarantined from WordPress
      *remember the angry emails

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        “I ride and I shoot and I call my pony, Francis May”
        dwellers by the creek with memories sour
        boys, how do you sleep ?
        all those thoughts you’ve tried to leave behind
        the big picture is not a pretty sight
        *shrunken skulls stuffed with intellect

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        extinction was inevitable
        the Neanderthals erased all their poetry
        they collected ancient tools and bones
        and left them as evidence
        someday, humans would guess wrong
        they would overlook the fact
        that the path goes in both directions

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        THE WINDOW OF EXPECTATIONS IS CLOUDY
        ANTICIPATION IS A NASTY GLASS SHARD
        BLOOD DRAWS ATTENTION
        I HAVE TRIED TO PULL EMILY DICKINSON FREE
        HER LARGE KIDNEYS LEAKING
        DOMESTICATED AS IF IN PRISON
        UTILITARIAN WORDS
        I SMUGGLED IN SOME BLUE NOTES
        SHE WOULD NOT TOLERATE MONGREL WORDS
        PASTORAL EMILY WITH HER FLOWERS OF SPEECH

        Like

    • multiplemichael

      WHAT DO YOU SAY WHEN THE WIFE ASKS IF YOU ARE REGULARIZED ?
      YOU THOUGHT SHE WOULD ENCOURAGE INVENTION
      WHEN SHE WAS YOUNG SHE THREW STONES AT THE MOON
      NOW SHE GOES TO BED THINKING HOW MANY PLEASURES
      CAN SHE DENY YOU ?
      *there is no nostalgia in shared family spaces

      Like

      • eatmorewords

        previous tinkerings,
        the odd modulation of frequencies,
        the blackboard scribbling erased with a broad swipe told her my dalliances with invention were fruitless – she wanted hard facts, not fumblings with the truth,
        nothing outside her parameters

        – I wanted to tell her I thought she smelt of dead raccoons, smelt like damp Kentucky caves
        but I couldn’t, why would I?

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        someone said the feminine voice was Yoko
        SCREECHING !!!
        yaps and barks and a voice that seems whining
        pornographic thoughts every second
        unmarried women float through the mind
        vulnerable healthy clean
        ————————————————————-
        machine-made poetry
        peculiar limitations
        poets dependent on each other’s recognition
        to prune their language in the dark
        ——SHADOWLESS——–
        wanting a declaration
        a test of sanity
        a high wall
        thinking in another manner
        like squeezing the juice out of an orange
        and replacing it with urine
        “have an orange”
        poem-of-the-month

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        the urine orange from the piss tree – pissy juice drips in the dimple of the the girl with the Kirk Douglas chin

        badges of dogs on her lapels and a scarf that is a noose –

        a man who looks like a younger version of me –

        skyline of building ziggurats ahead
        memories of Mesopotamian sacrifice

        – we took a trip in a plane and landed in a land of neon lights and electric toilets –

        she borrowed something from here
        stole something from there -stored it it all in a neither here
        nor there

        and today the clocks went forward
        i lost an hour
        i blame the farmers and their over familiarity with livestock

        Like

  41. multiplemichael

    RUMOR HAS IT THAT THE DEAD ARE RESTLESS
    SIN EXISTS IN THE GRAVE—CONFINED SIN
    INCREASINGLY ANGRY IN THEIR HOUR OF NEED
    IF YOU COULD SHINE A LIGHT ON THEIR FACES
    YOU WOULD BE SHOCKED AT THE SHAME
    BURDENED WITH THE PEACH OF FLAMES
    *unfathomed Kentucky caves—another way of saying “graves”

    Like

    • multiplemichael

      SPELLING AND WRITING ARE THE OUTLETS OF COWARDS
      NOT A SINGLE HERO IN AN ARMY OF POETS
      VIOLENT FANTASIES RIDE THE SCHOOLBUS
      12 YEARS OF HIBERNATION, TIME SERVED
      THE NEED FOR IMAGINARY FRIENDS
      A TIGHT GRIP ON THE CLUTCH
      LINGERING A BIT
      SEAMLESS STROKES
      WAY, WAY TOO MANY STROKES

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        PSYCHOLOGICAL SCARS SLEEPING ON PASSIVE HELPLESSNESS
        LIFE TAKES PLACE AROUND OTHER PEOPLE
        SIGN UP FOR THE “FREE RIDER” PROGRAM
        THE POETRY LANE LACKS SELF-DEFEATING SLOW-POKES
        THE HUMAN DRIVE TO ENGAGE IN SOCIAL INTERCOURSE
        PREFERENCES THAT LEAD TO SATISFACTION
        PSYCHOTROPIC MEDICATIONS
        SYMPTOM SUPPRESSIVE NASCAR STYLE
        DREAMS OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN PASSING LOGS
        THE COINS IN HIS POCKET HAD RADIUM TARNISH
        INSECURITIES THROUGH OVERCOMPENSATION
        DENY RATHER THAN RECOGNIZE
        FEAR WALKS NAKED
        NO SURROGATES

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        words as masks which the poet can hide behind – everyone is taller in real life – poems add pounds on to skeletal frames – your real name is a well kept secret
        online competitions to guess the truth behind the moniker

        pin the tail on the donkey
        nail the donkey to the floor

        in and out friction
        burns soothe lubricant grease
        looking for a place to drop anchor
        a safe harbour
        a clear passage

        the sailors tattoos failed and rub off on her skin faded colour bleached by the sun

        Like

  42. multiplemichael

    the egg man said that each day was an unhealthy, childish investment
    dozens of dvds of the egg man toying with his unit unsheathed
    he referred to it as his Big Charley rifle
    his bang-bang shoot-em up manhood
    an instrument of different colors and textures
    he liked to think it was more than a handful
    it always seemed to be lurking

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      it cast a long shadow on how summer days – female hobos in men’s shoes screaming at buildings – fat kids looking like lazy Buddahs – sugar rush tramp scabs
      the shit between their toes which the crowd swoop down and peck at –
      black winged sleek crows know not of sodomy
      their shadows are cast long
      behind oils drum flames

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        FREUD SAID THAT FEMALE HOBOS GO IN BRA CUPS NOT MEN’S SHOES
        WAKING LIFE FROM THE MOUTH OF FREUD, DREAM CREATURES
        THINK HOW MANY TIMES YOU’VE GONE TO THE BATHROOM
        ON THE FACE OF OUR GLOBE
        HEAVY CURTAINS AND LOCKED DOORS
        A NERVOUS HAND, CURIOUS FINGERS
        THE EGG MAN WAS NOT ANONYMOUS
        * where the hell did he get those pants ?

        Like

  43. multiplemichael

    ANOTHER VOICE SINGS SOFTLY BUT NOT FOR YOU OR ME
    FASHIONED FROM MERE WORDS, OUR IMAGE OFTEN IN INK
    CHRISTIANS ARE FOND OF POINTING OUT
    THAT HAPPINESS IS ABOVE THE BELT-LINE
    ANYTHING ELSE BELOW IS BOILING IN THE LAKE
    SUGAR-COATED SODOMY, POKED AND PRODDED
    NURSERY RHYMES WRITTEN ON RESTSTOP WALLS
    DIFFICULT TO CONVICT IT OF LITERARY GREATNESS
    THE EGG MAN WEARING HIS STAINED BURLESQUE PANTS

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      (Totally out of synch)
      fat bulletts sleep snug in the chamber – sleeping monster waiting the laws of science
      take hold
      through trigger
      hammer –
      through barrel
      pushes through waves
      impact trajectories tracing the lines

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        I NO LONGER COLLECT YOUR CONTRADICTIONS
        APOCALYPTIC POETRY
        THE PROOF IN DOMESTICATED SUNGLASSES
        THE MIRROR DOES NOT LIE
        WHAT IF THEY WEIGH YOUR SOUL ?
        DEATH A TERRIFYING ABODE
        A WORLD MADE OF URINE AND EXCREMENT

        Like

  44. multiplemichael

    A WORD-GATHERER ON THE LONELY MOOR
    HIS POCKETS FULL OF VERSE
    HOW MANY TIMES WILL THE POET
    SQUEEZE HIS SORE SPOT ?
    WANTING TO KNOW ALL THERE IS TO KNOW
    EVIDENCE, SOMETHING UNDER THE NAILS
    SOMETHING UP THE NOSE

    Like

    • multiplemichael

      — A WORD-GATHERER ON THE LONELY MOOR—
      CYCLICAL MODELS OF THOUGHT
      INTERCHANGING BEGINNINGS
      A FROG, AN APE, A CAVEMAN FROM KENTUCKY
      COMMENTS TO POETRY IN A CONTINUOUS LOOP
      EMILY DICKINSON IN THE HIDDEN WORLD
      SHE REMAINS THE NARRATIVE BEHIND THE NARRATIVE

      Like

    • multiplemichael

      —A WORD-GATHERER ON THE LONELY MOOR—
      REMEMBRANCE OF A LOST BLISS
      PILLS AND SWEET NAUSEAS OF VARIOUS KINDS
      ALICE WALKER BONE METH FROM FORKS
      FAMILY AND FRIENDS ACTING ON INSTINCT
      23 LOVERS COLLAPSED
      AND DE’ MANHOOD
      STRONG
      READY TO GO
      THE TIP WET
      WITH GLOW

      Like

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