she, (blue)
She was lonely and bought old faded family portraits from secondhand shops to keep her company.
She painted their faces blue and hung the pictures on the wall.
She spends hours looking at her blue faced family while they spend hours looking at an empty room.
Eatmorewords's Blog 
THE ROOM WAS EMPATHIC
IT COULD FEEL PAIN
THE PORTRAITS SUFFERED GREATLY
THE PRESSURE OF REALITY
ANGRY SUBATOMIC PARTICLES
GENITAL OUTLINES CAREENING
————SHE HAD THE MUFFLED VOICE
————THE FOLDS AND THE EMPTY HOLE
“STAY CLEAR OF THE CRACK”
DOUBLE PRISON 100%
SPACE SUIT PRISON
——————————
THE PORTRAITS ACCUSTOMED TO LIFE
WITHOUT A BODY
EACH YEAR IS THE FINAL YEAR
APE HISTORY WILL CEASE
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ATTEMPTING TO EXERT A SENSE OF CONTROL
SHE PAINTED THE PORTRAITS BLUE
VIOLATED BY HER ACT OF SELF-ASSERTION
RECIPROCAL RELATIONS WITH VALENTINES
GYMNASIUM LOVE WITH PAPER HEARTS
SEXUAL ACROBATICS —INFANTILE FANTASIES
LOVE-JELLY FROM EARLIER ROMANCES
*poetry is the talking cure
*habitual repetition
*it wasn’t always summer down there
ATTEMPTIMG TO EXERT A SENSE OF CONTROL
SHE WORE SUPER THICK PADS
THE FURROW WITH PILLOW
HER OCCULT BOTH WIDE AND DEEP
THE LEATHER—THE FUZZ
FLOCKS OF BIRDS AND MICK JAGGER
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OLD AND FADED—MICK JAGGER
WITH HIS DEPICTIONS OF ACTUALITY
HIS LACK OF INVOLVEMENT
HIS LOVE OF RIDICULE
SELLING FAMILY PHOTOS
RELATIVES WITH HELPLESS FEATURES
SHE PAINTED THEIR FACES BLUE
STRUTTING AND POSTURING
GOOSE-STEPPING
WITH POSSIBLE WORMS (?)
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at school they never taught us about temptation and words,
pleasure points,
dark corners, full hands & royal flushes
– dark washing at low temperatures
– doors left open
– confusion over exits and entrances – ritualistic routines which we follow in the belief it controls ours fate – a constant thirst
for six years I wasn’t even me
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I saw Jagger on sale on eBay – availability in three different models – no price tags – an iron out Keith Richards stretches for 3.5miles –
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WHO WRAPS THEIR HEAD IN RAGS ?
THE BRIGHTEST YOUNG ONES
THE REASON THEY BUILD SCHOOLS
STRANGLEHOLD ON KNOWLEDGE
CHRONOLOGICAL SCAFFOLDING
WEEKS RUNNING AROUND THAT THING
———————————————————-
Mick Jagger and the boys lived
CHRONOLOGICAL SCAFFOLDING
participants with finger prints
*participants in fancy pants
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ALL CRAZY ABOUT SNAPSHOTS OF HISTORY
DETAILED PICTURES AND THE YOUNG MIND
ALL THAT INFORMATION
NOT A SINGLE SHOVEL
I PAID FOR MORE SCAFFOLDING
SEEMS THAT I GOT LESS
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A BATTERY OF NOTES
EXTRACTS
POETRY
LIKE A SHIP’S LOG
OH, I LIVE AND WORK IN VAUDEVILLE
FELLOW APES AND SIMIANS
CONSTANT CALLS FROM THE MENTAL WARD
CHATTER ABOUT THE ANUS AND FECES
ORIFICES AND DISCHARGES
MALINGERING SIGHS
——————————
TRYING TO WRITE POETRY
WITH CAGES OF WILD ANIMALS
STACKED TWO FEET AWAY
THE CIRCUS IN THE LOBBY
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ROBOTIZED READERS
MECHANICAL POETRY
LIFE BECOMES DEATH-ORIENTED
WHISTLING SCREAMS FROM MATURE LADIES
WHO HAVE JUST FINISHED “MOBY DICK”
HOMOSEXUAL LITERATURE HIDDEN
EXTENSIONS OF CONSCIOUSNESS
APOMORPHINE IN VARIOUS STRENGHTS
SAVAGE PESSIMISM IN PILL FORM
SAVAGE PESSIMISM IN JOCKSTRAPS
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THE BLUE-BLACK BULLS
WERE OBSIDIAN BLUE-BLACK
UNPLANNED DRIBBLING
GOOD POETRY
CAN BE RESHUFFLED
HAVING JUST SLEPT
INCHES FROM A MORAL MESSAGE
INCHES FROM A FLICKER OF DISAPPROVAL
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GOOD POETRY CAN BE RESHUFFLED
AT ANY INTERSECTION POINT
READERS BECOME VICTIMS
OF CHRONOLOGICAL SCAFFOLDING
FOOTPRINTS FROM EDEN
SO LONG AGO
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tardy reactions to the teachers questioning – not enough time to concoct the next line –
to much noise in this menagerie
the crack flapping of wings
– some still eat their young
(I’ve seen the pictures) – they’ve buried the bones in fields where apples trees grow
– the ship log refers to an land never seen
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pictures capture a moment that can be changed
a building removed
you were looking right
now you’re looking left
one strand becomes many
scaffolding holds up the edifice
metal poles
knuckle locks
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scaffolding as appendix
chronology & some semblance of order
she wanted only straight line, one path A to B and no in between
puritan actions then a cold shower
life as a spiral
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promotion of vaccine in diseases postal areas –
people in crumbling houses scratch their chins and wander how Lil Wayne become so rich –
– never wears the same socks twice
gunshots at night
a tv show where there’s jealousy about the size manhood, it’s all about square footage
– cheap laughs
(which we
all enjoy)
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TARDY REACTIONS TO TEACHER QUESTIONS
GINGER RODGERS AND FRED ASTAIRE
SUPERNATURAL ABILITY
WERE THEY STIMULATED
BY SIN AND GUILT ?
SIMULTANEOUSLY CURSED
WITH NO SEX ORGANS
WITH NO DESIRE TO COPULATE
IN THE FACE OF DEHUMANIZING WOUNDS
HOLLYWOOD WITH ITS CAMERAS
AND SOUND CREWS
RESTRICTIVE POINTS OF VIEWS
MUSCLED FEET WITH WINGS
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you’re in the penitentiary
YOU’RE IN THE PENITENTIARY
prison guards and endless bars
terrified smells of rape
TERRIFIED SMELLS OF RAPE
terrible levels of rape
no rehabilitation
you stare at the ceiling
soon loved ones will journey you home
will you have what it takes
for self-reinvention ?
*it is true they bury the bones in the apple orchid
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(the ship log refers to a land never seen)
MISERY THAT TYPIFIES EVERYDAY LIFE
SHARED CONDITIONS
RICH OR POOR
YOUNG OR OLD
POETRY OVERLOADED WITH ABBREVIATIONS
CITIZENS MIRED IN THE MINOR SINS
IMPOTENT SUNDAY MORNINGS
PATRIOTISM MARCHING ON ONE LEG
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WHY WAS I UPSET ABOUT THE HOMOGENIZATION
OF POETRY ?
DISCOUNT POET LOBOTOMY
ADULT PADS TO ABSORB THE VIETNAM WAR
SHOEHORNED INTO A WHEELCHAIR
THE TELEVISION FULL OF WORMS
TELEVISED MINISERIES NONSTOP
—————-the wheelchair being a beacon
Daddy now a bizarre taxidermy
—————-no lame apology for the Vietnam War
the constraints of adult pads
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it all depends on which side of the bars you stand –
uniform blue
the guards are prisoners
– cigarette rations kept to a minimum – some find joy in dark corners
unfamiliar holes
new territory
– reinvention comes with a shaved head and tattoos
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Vietnam absorbed in to psyche of generations to come
– kids with parents with night tremors screaming in a new tongue – a craving for lemongrass
– helicopter sounds cause confusion – the smell of BBQ and Uncle Bob is reaching for a sidearm –
lobotomised in foreign lands
– missing limbs
the ghosts of children at night
– the uniform still fits
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was just told that I’m not in a penitentiary
I AM IN A LABORATORY
outside the small window
I can see piles of books burning
I am ten feet deep in suspicion
theologians trying to spoon feed me
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DADDY SAID THAT HE WAS ON A TOURIST VISA
ADVERSARIES FROM THE POOL HALL
THOUGHT OF HIM AS FRESH MEAT
20 BUCKS AND SOME PAIN PILLS
DADDY DIDN’T HAVE TO DIE
TO BE MISUNDERSTOOD
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DESPERATELY POOR
DOWNTOWN DARK TOWN
CROWDED SOPHISTICATED POVERTY
IF I WERE YOU
I WOULD DISCARD ME TOO
RELUCTANT TO WALK THE STREETS
SQUABBLE AND TORMENT
BATH SALT WARFARE
A DOLLAR A TOKE
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TAKING ENGLISH COURSES
POETRY RARELY COMES THROUGH INTUITION
TO READ LITERATURE—TO BE TOLERANT
POETS WHO BURN CHURCHES
POETS WHO FAIL TO ADDRESS MORAL ISSUES
THE FILM PLAYS IN MY MIND
SHE TOSSED THAT BABY OUT THE CAR WINDOW
NOT A SINGLE WORD ALL THE WAY HOME
*it was a crappy ass baby anyway—long dead
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WHAT DOES ONE THINK ?
THE GIRL WHO WIPES
LOVE-JELLY
FROM EARLIER ROMANCES
WITH YOUR TEE SHIRT
A GYMNASIUM BETWEEN THE LEGS
AN OLD TESTAMENT CHOP
STUFF OF COMEDY AND TRAGEDY
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woke up imprisoned inside a wall with people looking in – fingerprints on glass
tannoy spitting out white noise and scratchy new reels
– not of this time –
– not of this time –
all things measured
fixated on paternal angst
– pleasure principle of push pins palliative prescriptions pulsating pulses we became plural
plethora of physically punishing periods
VISA confiscated at the border
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i took the advice
I discarded myself
deleted the writings
removed my shadow
I ate all my fingerprints
cut my hair and glued it on elsewhere
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the villain returning to the scene
the speeding car, windows down
far flung
against road sign
Burma shave ( again )
Tom Waits reverie
I bought the wrong part of Jagger on line NO REFUNDS I’m told –
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wipes from front to back
disagreements at the chop shop
I need new limbs
to much movements in all directions
– I told her to let me rest, night shifts at the factory taking their tool
the insurgents tried to assemble a Jagger wicker man high on the outcrop –
– they used old slogans to rally the troops “they’re here
their queer
get used to it”
– “better dead than red”
–
carpet bombed dark town with incomprehensible flyers of flarf gibberish
bath salt hobos fight for scraps
no war was won with words
poets family tree stretches along different branches
longer roots
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YOU SPEAK NOT OF MODERN MEAT
BONELESS AND WOOZY
LEGITIMATE ?
POETRY—THE LANGUAGE OF OUTSIDERS
SORRY ABOUT THE AMERICAN INVALIDISM
———CONSTANT CONCERTED ASSAULT—-
RETENTION OR DISCHARGE
BABOON RELATIVES (IMBECILES)
UP-SPURTS WITH A SHAVE
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JOHNNY BOY ROWED ACROSS THE LAKE
FLAT WATER IN THE GHETTO
FOCUS
FIXATED
ON PATERNAL ANGST
THE DAMNED PUSH-PULL
OF FATHER
OBSCENITIES OF DADDY
*being rowed into the ghetto
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modern meat is boneless and slack like a child wearing daddies jacket – outsiders
but how far outside?
america
invalid and dead in school corridors
lazy poet just re-cycling previous attempts
on foot on the rung but going down
not up
not up
regress
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hole in the boat
giraffes in the ark
salvation on new shores
on that bank over there
we’ll arrive like the Pilgrim fathers and we’ll build this new Jerusalem full of Elvis impersonators, jazz men and the flotsam of yesterday
this new ghetto
the revolving doors of history
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DIVERGENCE FROM A CLEARLY
IDENTIFIABLE “NORM”
SHE WARNED YOU ABOUT
PUTTING EXOTIC ANIMALS
IN THE BOAT
*large exotic animals
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WEARING THE REGALIA
OF A FULL GROWN
GIRAFFE
*a futile attempt to recapture the past
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purchasing tickets to escape financial worries
crumbling from the weight of fantasy solutions
——–your boat was very cabaret
all those animals
the woods were full of them
animals that functioned like people
singing in French
circulating
the ARK
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picking at the low level fruit
a hundred different ways to avoid it all crumbling
a home made scaffold of words
– a boat with splinters
– fur costumed pantomime animals feeding from the stockpile
–
– school kids, everyone one of them in isolation, beads of sweat
dead before the honeymoon
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MERCENARY VACCINES
SHOCKED TO SEE SO MANY MARKS
ON YOUR LOWER HALF
FANCY BIRD PLUMAGE
POETRY ABOUT THE VIEWER
AND THE ARTIFICIAL FRUIT
OF THE VIEWED
SEXUALLY EXPRESSIVE TELEVISION
IMPERSONATIONS—SEXUAL EGGS
STRONG-WILLED GUNS
*one can hardly deny the appeal
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A FRUMPY SPINSTER UPSET
AT YOUR HOMEMADE SCAFFOLDING
BROADS WITH THEIR MOUTHS OPEN
IN CONSTANT SIGHT
POETRY ABOUT JIGGLED PENISES
AND FEMININE PLAYTHINGS
THE OLDER LADY HAD HARD KNOTTED LEGS
HER BACKSIDE SMELLED VERY DISCOTHEQUE
*it would take a new bible to induce corrective heterosexuality
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CONSIDERING SECONDARY SEX
SCHOOL FORCED STANDARDS
ADEQUATE PRELANGUAGE IMAGINARY
——————————————
——————————————
I STOOD UP IN CLASS
AND CONFESSED THAT
I WROTE THE WORD
“LESBIAN”
ON THE BATHROOM WALL
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(WHICH WE ALL ENJOY)
PSYCHOLINGUISTIC THOUGHT
LESBIAN AESTHETICS
INVESTIGATING GIRL-ON-GIRL
poets as white spectators
the flashlight and the merger of light
self-definition with words
the dead resurface
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PICKING CITRUS AND AVOCADO ALL DAY
TO MAKE MONEY FOR THE JAZZ CELLARS
LATER THE BROTHEL AND A FULL PIPE
BUS FARE POETRY
BACKSIDE DISCOTHEQUE
TURN ON THAT FLASHLIGHT
LET’S SEE THE MERGER OF LIGHT
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TALK ABOUT YOUR MOUSTACHE AND GOATEE
TIME IN PRISON AND NOW YOU’RE OUT
DISCHARGED AS JOHNNY BOY INCOMPATIBLE
THE MUSIC IN YOUR HEAD
STINK-BOMB ROCK
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THE GIRLS WITH THE DUCK HEADS
ON THEIR BATONS
LEGENDARY ANTICS
SOME HONKY TONK TOWN
IN AMERICA
THE SOUND AND SMELL OF POETS
SCRAPING THEIR BUTTS
THEY WERE NOT THE BEATLES
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HEINOUS CRIMES IN POETRY
FINGERS ON THE FRET
PHOTOGRAPHS OF WAYS
THINGS SEEM
YOUNG SOUNDHOLE PICK-UP
AMPLIFIED AT BEST
ADOLESCENCE
MORE THAN A BONER
IN THE BACKSEAT
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SOMEWHERE BETWEEN CLAREMONT AND CUCAMONGA
SLINGING OUT THE PASTA AND THE LESBIAN DISHES
USUAL INGREDIENTS TURNED UPSIDE DOWN
ANCIENT BEDSPRINGS IN THE BACKGROUND
AFTER-HOURS WITH EXTRA SPICES
POETS PRAYING FOR REHEARSALS
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ATROCITIES ON THE ARK
silly stuff with a giraffe
SPECIALIZED RECREATIONAL
UNHEARD-OF-HAPPENINGS
(today, Americans with holsters on their belts)
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friendship, community
your loved ones selling lemonade
on the street
actual money to be made
how many weeks to pay the electric bill ?
————–and that stink-bomb rock and roll
unintended consequences
oral fandom and motels
autographed sex
the wife at home with her gift basket
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WHAT DOES SHE DWELL ON ?
plagiarized poetry——attitudes toward sources
Moby Dick……..THE ARK
cosmetic changes and mouth wash
LOVE frequently acknowledged in valentines
red paper hearts
interactive comments
shout-outs
infringement
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no surprise
she has circled your wagon
(guilty of derivative work)
ORIGINAL ENOUGH
honeymoon cease-and-desist
pseudonym in the daylight
visible and in color
everything below
buttoned-up
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stink bomb rock
hip hop slang, right rhetoric incompatible with left leanings
– heavy metal stigma bullpen dykes
Judas Priest back patches and Iron Maiden fantasy worlds
stink bomb rock
fart trumpet
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majorette matching in front of the big bass drum – some town
somewhere with a mainstreet & town square –
– ice cream fountain
she threw the baton
high high
high in the air and waited for it to come down
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amplified by the closeness to the event – she bought an oddity,
a rarity
a Beatles shift with Jagger in the background – photos are not truth
– words are not truth
a simple slip and a different meaning
spelling
smelling
she sent me a 101 postcards asking “what are you trying to achieve?”
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HBO special “holster manufacturing in the mid-west”,
an economic argument for the continuation of interment –
unheard of happening
behind closed doors
a floating boat
giraffes on the lookout
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black lemonade on wooden tables
( nickel and dimes are my
pounds and pence )
– the community of no faces
no bills to pay for the man in the cave
– just a little light creeps from the dark
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she sits at home knitting scarves for tomorrows weather
– sharp needles
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THE POWER TO CROSS BARRICADES
TO MAKE STRANGERS INTELLIGIBLE
TO ONE ANOTHER
STINK-BOMB ROCK
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MEN OUTDOORS PEEING
JUDICIOUS SPECTATORS
EVERYONE WANTS TO PEEK
MEN WOULD FIGHT
TO STAND NEXT
TO ABRAHAM LINCOLN
*real-life encounters—how to interpret the motives
*widening the circle of men outdoors peeing
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A GLIMPSE INSIDE WHAT IT FELT LIKE
THE MYSTERY OF KNITTING SCARVES
A KIND OF ACCIDENTAL LEARNING
A BRIEF EXCUSE FROM THE DUTIES
OF SURVIVAL
PIVOTAL MEMORIES
OF THE HONEYMOON
HAUNTED HER
*that square-rigged bastard
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outdoor peeing from tops of bridges
rainbow arca from the tube
– daily routine for the animals
abe lincoln carried secrets
never pee’d in front of his fellow man
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mid day drinking fires different pistons, there is a need for sustenance not found here, something between bread
soft succulent meat
– the click clacking of needles, knitted, yarn
by yarn
– the end of a loose thread
the half finished jumpers fit for a one armed bandit
– I have removed myself from duty
I have served my purpose
and she still wants to know, what are you trying to prove?
why are doing this?
all these words
line after line after lines
slipping through portals
elevator heights
her dad always found the cure to be morose
not upbeat
the same with the smiths
strange folk with strange tastes and no need for forks
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to question the carnivalesque exchange of words
grown men bending the rules (implications)
innocent reenactments of the dramas
staged and restaged by those around us
giraffes nervous at the sight of a boat
Abe Lincoln softhearted for men
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shanty town girls angry at Tarzan
a fantasy-projection for males
no “making things anew”
they looked silly
peeing from the trees
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sometimes at night on the Ark
they would discuss communal norms
why did Noah dictate the kinds
of questions that could be asked ?
why did they have to hide their confusion
and insecurity ?
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blasphemy on the Ark
the unthinkable
Noah with his enlarged definition
whirling it around like a baton
larger than normal
full of expression
*streams of water behind the pillar
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no other poet is so rigorously policed
———-her———————————-
her impatience with the free play of words
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reenactments of great battles
the civil war dead
men laying supine on wet fields,
homemade uniforms
antique buttons
reenactments of daily life,
making toast
tying a lace
cleaning the lenses of your glasses
– attention given to the small things, the nuances
trying to find intent
giraffes can wrap their tongues around their head
IMAGINE THAT
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the ark expanded at night and shrunk during the day
– no one really noticed that land was on the horizon
– sea legs and scurvy
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Tarzan myth
the man in the tree – evolutionary throwback –
– shanty town girls has specific tastes
76% of people who go to the gym dons simply to look in the mirror – vanity projects in lycra –
embarrassment of communal showers –
nothing looks silly at this distance
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IT WASN’T YOU AT THE GYM
IT WAS BROTHER DEAREST
MISTER ARTIFICIAL AROMA
A LITTLE SNIFF
A GENEROUS WHIFF
suddenly everyone is nervous
JOHNNY BOY WITH HIS BOUNDARY LINES
STAND BACK RELATIVES
THE SNOW MAKING MACHINES
ARE ON BLOW
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STRETCHED ON MY DEATHBED
I STILL CHUCKLE AT THE THOUGHT
OF NERVOUS GIRAFFES
*after all, you and I are not writing history
*I can see the Israelites out the window
if I had a rock I would throw it at them
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SHE WAS UPSET AT YOU
BECAUSE YOU COULDN’T
REMEMBER AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL
TIT-BITS
I TOLD YOU—DUDE
JUST WANTING AMMUNITION
FOR FUTURE CONFLICTS
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THE ARK EXPANDING AT NIGHT
A MALADY WITH A CURE
NOAH WITH HIS LAZY HAND
DISTILLED A SINGLE DROP
* squeezed from Noah but not permitted
to express it in words
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EVEN ON THE ARK
THE MEN WERE SEWN
WITH DEVIL SEED
THE SOUL COULD BE DISCHARGED
*I could see Jesus frowning
across the stream
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ALCHEMICALLY FUSING
WET KISSES
QUASI-SEXUAL IMPLICATIONS
THE DRY HOLE POUTED OUT
DETECTIVES TAKING NOTICE
EVERYTHING IMPORTANT
STARTS WITH THE WHOLE SKIN
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POETS ARE SCULPTORS
GENERATING ALL THAT GRAVITY
YOU’VE ADDED SIZE
THE JURY DIDN’T BUY YOUR EXCUSE
“I WASN’T MYSELF—I WASN’T ME”
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wearing leather at the gym
the clank of metal
European EDM at 144BPM – a small convulsion
chest tremor
someone else’s sweat
narcissism at the treadmill
a tiny whirling fan in the corner
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I forgot the tit-bits and made up the rest – tried to join the dots with frivolous tales
woven into the narrative she wanted to know the ground under her feet was solid
wanted to stand in the middle and see both ends
– I’ll give her ammunition
ammunition by the bucket load
but she won’t fire
– trigger finger
blistered
cramped
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drip feed Noah
drowning a millimetre at a time
ankle deep in 48 varieties of manure
*Once you’d been on the ark
you could never escape the smell
, stained,
seeped in
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Jesus turned that smile upside down
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THE SINGLE THING
I LOVE MOST ABOUT JESUS
—HIS GENEROUS INNOCENCE—
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LYING OUTSIDE MY WORLD
THE SMELL INSIDE THE ARK
—LATER—
I WAS AWARE OF LITTLE ELSE
*answer to HIS name, Ye who fall from the Ark
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YOU ARE SO SMART
GIVING BIRTH TO NEW FORMS
THAT OLD QUESTIONS
MAY HAVE A SECOND CHANCE
AT BEING ANSWERED
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WHAT AND HOW MUCH
CAN BE SAID ABOUT WEARING LEATHER
THE CODES ONE MUST ABIDE AT THE GYM
———YOUR MACHO BROTHER SINGING THE AVE MARIA
IN PRAISE OF MARY AND ALL WOMEN—EVEN YOUR MOM
not present in form—something heavy moves in the deep water
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——RECOGNITION FROM THE BIOLOGICAL FATHER—————-self-satisfying poetry
MAGNIFICENT LIVES IN MAGNIFICENT AUTOMOBILES
CONFRONTED ON THE STREET
YOUR IDENTITY IS FORFEIT
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I love his choice of footwear and tangle free hair –
– and his ability to smite
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fall from the ark and be swallowed by the blue, sink tongue bottom –
Davey Jones awaits with canapés and drinks –
Jonah on a set ski
with a Florida tan
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CLIMBING UNFAMILIAR STAIRS
(unforgivable sins)
CONSTANTLY SHUFFLING THOUGHTS
LIKE PLAYING CARDS
INSECTS AND CHILDHOOD TRAUMA
BITING, SCRATCHING, PRESSING YOUR SPOUT
UNWELCOME VISITORS OUTSIDE
WANTING TO DISTRACT
THE LOOK OF WORDS ON A PAGE
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AS BONES FELL FROM THE ARK
UNRESOLVED BONES
REMAINED UNRESOLVED
LOVE AND HATE
NEVER MEANT
TO BE EXHAUSTED
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ATTEMPTING TO EXERT A FINGER IN THEOLOGY
BLUE PORTRAITS OF THE AUDIENCE
DOMESTICATED DEATH ON TELEVISION
A BOUT OF THRESHING AFTER LIFE
CRAZY PEOPLE “ACTING OUT”
POETS MOURNING
THE PROXIMITY
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EDGAR ALLAN POE WAS THE TRIGGER FINGER
WHAT INSTRUMENTS TO TEST
THE ANCIENT PAGAN FLAMES ?
GOD SORRY ABOUT CHILDREN
LIVING LIKE APES
FORKED FLAMES = TWO TONGUES
ONE MAKES ITSELF HEARD
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words on a page or sprayed on a wall, a brick full stop
a detective standing
human exclamation mark
unfamiliar stairs to familiar floors
– new levels
promotion of the Otis man, 40 years service pinned to his lapel
– cards
black and red, she had all the 4s
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death of a salesman
death of a working man
– a game with rules I can’t understand
– caught in a finger trap
removed nail to exit
– crazy people
all depends on context & definition –
postcard and portraits
proximity to pulsars
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when asked about my birthday wish
when asked about my nightly prayer
rather simple,
THE WORLD WITHOUT PEOPLE
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“YOU WERE NOT MADE TO LIVE LIKE APES”
WE WHO HAVE FOUND OURSELVES
THRUST BELOW THE HUMAN CONDITION
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WHAT ABOUT THE DOORKNOBS ON THE ARK ?
WITHOUT ADO —PERFORM WHATEVER
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NONSTOP MOTHERING
VERY LITTLE TIME
FOR ARITHMETIC
AND GEOGRAPHY
SUNDAY WORSHIP
OF THE EGG LAID
YOUNG ADULTS
SENTENCING THEMSELVES
*raw sex pondered obsessively
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the human condition changes daily – short & brutish
dark age philosophy from fifth floor of the hotel –
– I write poems to order
a £5 fee
– collections build up in corners in houses in sanctuaries tucked away in 1000 acre woods
my new neighbours are apes
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NEIGHBORS RETURN FAVORS
the cheaters—JOIN IN
OR TALK BAD ABOUT THEM
THEIR FECES BY THE BACK WALL
TALK OF PAYBACK
MIDDLE OF THE RANGE CARS AND DONGS
RICH CHAPS WITH GARGANTUAN APPARATUS
THOSE WITH NOTHING—PSYCHOPATHY
POETS PRAYING TO BE
GENETICALLY FIXED
HERMETICALLY SEALED
AFRAID OF MUTANTS
IMMIGRANTS
INFILTRATORS
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BUD OFF NEW OFFSPRING
REPEAT THE PROCESS
LITTLE JOHNNY WITH POCKETS
OF CONDITIONAL STRATEGIES
personality at random ?
THE ORIGINAL ANSWER
CRIMINAL BEHAVIOR
MOLECULAR VARIABILITY
YOUNG GIRLS WITH PARASITES
CANDY FLAVOR CELLS AND TISSUES
CHURNING JISM DOWN BELOW
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A SWIG OF BLACK LEMONADE
ON A CONGESTED HIGHWAY
COMPETITIVELY DISADVANTAGED
GRAND CANYON SELF-DECEPTION
LIVING WITH IMPOSTERS
A SECRET LIE-DETECTOR
A MISCALIBRATED WIFE
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protagonist arrived nearly fully formed – some gaps in backstory and motive
– miscalculated on the drawing board meant he arrived two weeks early –
attempts to squeeze him into the narrative, told facts so he could pass the lie detector
faint tremor of pulse
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black lemonade comes out yellow
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THE PSYCHIATRISTS HAVE GIVEN UP
NO LONGER BELIEVE THE PROPAGANDA
REALITY CHECKS—VARIATIONS AND SPINOFFS
BROKEN FINGER POETRY
MOVIE STAR IN CAR COMMERCIAL
LISTENING TO JAZZ
SAVES THE GIFTED
FROM JOINING
THE ANT COLONY
OUR EVOLUTIONARY HISTORY
FASCINATION AND DELIGHT
IN OXYGEN
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I OFTEN TELL HER-SHE-HER
THAT THE SLATE IS BLANK
———-WORDS TO DO HARM
———-WORDS TO DO GOOD
SCHOOL LEARNING
SCHOOL SOCIALIZATION
LIKE WORMS IN A CAN
GOING FISHING
GOD SELLING ORIGINAL PERVERSITY
PROOF UNNECESSARY
JUST DROP A BUCK IN
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SHE-HER-SHE LIKES TO PROBE
FOR DEFECTS IN THE MACHINE
THIS NOW INCLUDES YOU
CLOCKWORK JOHNNY
DISPLAY PANELS AND LEVERS
STANDING TALL
A MINIMUM OF PARTS
STICK AND SAC
BAD BEHAVIOR
*no blank man—much is written
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WHEN THE DETECTIVE ASKED ME
IF YOU HAD THE FINGERPRINTS
OF POCAHONTAS
I TOLD HIM THAT
“POCAHONTAS”
WAS SLANG FOR A WOMAN’S
PRIVATES
SO HOW SILLY WOULD IT BE
THAT YOU WOULD HAVE
THE FINGERPRINTS
OF A WOMAN’S PRIVATES ?
*it didn’t help that you paid for them
with Visa
*it didn’t help that the Visa card
belonged to me
*it didn’t help that you wrote
eBay complaining that
the fingerprints
were childlike
and effeminate
*it didn’t help that the detective
had effeminate childlike
fingers
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NOW THAT GUNS HAVE BEEN OUTLAWED
PEOPLE JUST MAIL DEATH
THROUGH THE POSTAL SYSTEM
ANCIENT EVIL ENTRENCHED
BALLS OF CELLS
FELLOW CREATURES
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slates stolen from church roofs
no barrier to keeping the religion in – words do both
the good
the bad
there is ugly
and in schools uniforms weld everyone together like glue
– an amorphous ball of knees, scratched elbows, follicles, bags full of books, shrinking pencils
– born the son of another son
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you are nothing but a machine of tiny
miniature systems
– a stopped clock is right twice a day –
– being part of machine,
a cog
a system – dented panels rusted throughout,
this is a serious errand
we embarked on this with no maps
all is blank and waiting
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to many coincidences
a mug shot of Pocahontas
that strayed to far from the truth
– the Visa card was stolen,
the fingerprints bought online
confusion between people – only known by their words –
the detectives sent on paper chases
private parts no longer privates
– this century cast away prudence
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slates from church roofs
blank slates
noble slates
ghost slates
leave it to you to advertise your virility
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slates gates
slaves graves
no roofs
so the ghosts fly out
you can capture it on special camera – heat traces should show as red –
somewhere on the spectrum it’ll be visible
–
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UP AND RUNNING EARLY
THE GOALS OF OTHER PEOPLE
IN THE REARVIEW MIRROR
THEY DO NOT DISCUSS
HUMAN CONFORMITY
ON THE EVENING NEWS
*in the old days, multi-headed,
multi-limbed poets pooped
Yiddish poems
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PEOPLE IN KENTUCKY WITH THEIR INTERCONNECTED
EYES—SHORTCOMINGS—IDIOSYNCRASIES
INDEPENDENT PEOPLE IMITATE
COMPOSE A SENTENCE
I THINK NOT
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the goals of others will be your goals to-
– millions of Chinese pushing bikes in blue suits – they all wear military caps – becoming one
pieces of dough to form the bread,
– a sum making up the whole
blinded by the yeast that binds –
no discussion on conformity
– small degrees of difference would make the sun scorch the earth
do you remember the first pair of nikes you ever owned? –
red ticks
pristine
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RANDOM OUTCOMES OF THE LOTTERY
TALL WHITE MEN ACCOMPLISH
———————————————
TALL WHITE MEN ACCOMPLISH
THINGS THAT ALL PEOPLE WANT
POROUS POETS IN FLUX
NEIGHBORS RUBBING NEIGHBORS
SPEAR THROWERS ON ONE SIDE
ALPHABETIC CERAL ON THE OTHER
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born into privilege
tall white men pick at the low hanging fruit –
no use for the reptilian brain
no use at all
– neighbours peak at other neighbours from
behind windows and take notes, capturing events,
bored child making haiku from alphabet spaghetti
– poems spread across the kitchen table, mid morning
daddy at work
mummy drinking
neighbours looking at neighbours
jealous life’s
–
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MY NEIGHBORS REANALYZE EVERYTHING
NO FUSSY PRONOUNCIATIONS AT THE POOL HALL
EXTERNAL LANGUAGE IN FLORIDA
REHOMOGENIZED BY THE HOUR
*I pray in Anglo-Saxon
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BRITONS CONSTANTLY REANALYZE ITALIAN CIGARETTES
TALK OF STAMP COLLECTING
DETECTIVE JARGON
POETIC PARAMETERS
DRINKING AT LUNCH
TOPLESS
*nature and nurture interact
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HAMMER DOWN THE NAILS THAT STICK UP
VILLAINS THAT PIERCE THE BELIEF
IN ESSENTIAL GOODNESS
—————————————
ONCE LEVIATHAN WAS PUT TO BED
JONAH’S WIFE TOSSED AND TURNED
ON THE OUTSIDE….WET WITH WHALE SWEAT
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IN DAYDREAMS
FINGERS LIKE STICKY TAPE
CAUGHT THE BABY IN AIR
REALITY LIKE SOMETHING RUSSIAN
GREAT SPEED AND A GALLON OF BLOOD
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neighbourhood cliques meet up in secret to share notes and photographs about the family in the Curie house –
circles within circles
– discussions and agendas
meeting minutes written in code
hieroglyphs, God represented by a squatting man,
a house, 6 simple lines
*when you pray
no one hears
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WHEN I PRAY
A LUXURIOUS BEARD
AND MOUSTACHE
LISTEN
AND WHEN I PRAY IN COSTUME
PEOPLE FOR MILES
LISTEN TO THE THUNDERING WORDS
I NOT ONLY PRAY LOCAL
I PRAY LONG DISTANCE
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POETRY IS ONLY CONCERNED
WITH THE SOW
WHO CONSUMES HER FARROW
———–SHE————–
WHO GIVES
ALSO TAKES
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FOURTEEN-SYLLABLE JAPANESE HAIKU
A SHARP KNITTING NEEDLE IN THE CORNER
OF THE EYE
CHIPS OF RUST WITH GARLIC DIP
INSTRUMENTAL CHRISTMAS TUNES
FEMINIST CRITICISM OF MOBY DICK
UNDEVELOPED GIFTS TO FRUITION
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CAN IT BE TRUE THAT MY PRAYERS HAVE A FEEDER TUBE COMPARABLE TO AN UMBILICAL CORD ?
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CAN IT BE TRUE THAT MY PRAYERS ARE LIKE KERNELS OF CORN AROUND A CORNCOB ?
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MY PRAYERS LACK BOTH A PENIS AND A VAGINA
BUT THEY ARE BLESSED WITH A POWERFUL ANUS
FECAL DROPPINGS MAKE GOOD POETRY
*an infectious poetic quality
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THOUGHTS FED BY ELECTRICITY
the multiple man in metal pants
ROOTS ARE CUT DADDY
MARRIAGE SHACKLES
OUTSIDE THE FRONT DOOR
THE LADY SUFFOCATOR
QUEEN OF THE CLOSED CIRCLE
HYGIENE WITHOUT SCORN
things the mind of the poet
can only dimly grasp
SACRIFICES
THE CONSTANT LOSS OF BLOOD
EXTRANEOUS INFORMATION
VERTICAL STROKES
HORIZONTAL STROKES
THE UNDULANT LINE
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sticky fingers the gift of the thief
everything he touches he takes
frozen reality
east of Archangel
froZen gallons of blood to save the future
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long distance pray toll free in your area – a daily dial a prayer for the lonely –
soft whispers of psalms and massacres
somewhere
someone is taking notes in short hand
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a dog chasing his tail
a tail wagging and mocking
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a tube with holes
faulty and useless
leaking the goodness
spurting it out
finger in the dyke time
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corn kernels always reappear
– hard to digest
– reappear and again
they’re there,
reappear
born again
resurrection
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CORN KERNELS HAVE NOTHING IN COMMON
AND YET THEY HAVE EVERYTHING IN COMMON
EACH WITH A “NORMAL” SIDE
A PERSONAL DRIVE—A PURPOSE
A TOTAL ESCAPE OF SIN
*death will be the final baby-sitter
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LONELINESS IS THE DIRTY LITTLE SECRET
TEMPORARY CRISIS
AS THE BROWN FROM SATURDAY
WANTS TO COME OUT
“STEWARDESS, COULD I HAVE A RAG”
HALF-FINISHED MINIATURE LOGS
THEATRICALLY AWKWARD FORCES
THAT AT EVERY MOMENT
THREATEN TO EXPLODE
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—-A POET TRYING TO WRITE INSTANT HISTORY—-
TECHNIQUES FOR SHORT ARMS
FLASHBACKS TO THE DRAMATIZING
THE NATIVES AROUND THE FIRE
YOU CALLED THEM COILS
BUT THEY WERE NOT COILS
*poetry held together by emotions
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a popper of amyl nitrate
coldly calculated jism
turbine throb
rapid-fire
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a thousand people in a single line
——THINK——
“I guess that’s what everybody wants”
will the honeymoon night be professional ?
contemporary marriage
old fashion tv sets on the curb
people so correct
they
place the remotes
on the top
*lovers helplessly flying off
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HUMANS WITH TONGUES
BUT NO LANGUAGE
TO EXPRESS
PERSONAL
DRAMA
WEALTHY FREE-FLOATING
OTHERS HELPLESSLY FALLING
STUDENTS WITH NO FIXED POINT
SECRET SUBTLETIES OF LIFE
OFTEN OVERPOPULATED
WITH ABSURDITIES
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POETRY STOLEN
SLIPPED THROUGH CRACKS
KICKED
KNOCKED
DEVOURED
POETRY IN THE FORM OF BABY PIGS
SOAKING IN A MUD POND
SUBMISSIVE MEN IN REST STOPS
DOING THINGS UNKNOWN
BEFORE THE CIVIL WAR
———-SO MANY INROADS
ENDLESS SITUATIONS
PLOTTED STORIES FROM CHILDHOOD
NORMAN—ALMOST FADING AWAY
SUGGESTIVE YOUNG STABS AT SEX
RECOGNITION BY FLASHLIGHT
AVALANCHE AFTER AVALANCHE
JISM RAGS TO THE MOON
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SCHOLAR-INTELLECTUALS
ERASED THE LINE
“JISM RAGS TO THE MOON”
LikeLiked by 1 person
black lemonade comes out yellow migrants criminals murders
black lemonade comes out yellow riddled with religion
quasi-Catholic girls try to sell cookies
quasi-Catholic girls lift their skirts
the guilt of looking at an underage quagmire
a laborious look for a purchase
crabbedly mournful crotch
*Melville found the cookies to be stale
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a professional line
snakes past boarded up shops
– a raw smell of boiled beef and rotting teeth
fed the rind
fed the rind
old TVs showing yesterday
nothing in colour
shades of grey
remote with no batteries
contemporary marriage
man on man
wrestling during the honeymoon
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expressed drama through the absence of words – mimed and subtle movements
– students studying Star Wars movies,
the history or trainers
TV characters from 1986-1993,
the power of numbers,
a waste of time and just doodles in the margin
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back from the dead, restroom Norman a thousand miles from home, cold coffee
(I’ve never drink coffee)
civil war beards
nested birds
so many years
bruised through endless practise
repetition
repetition
repetition
repetition
grab a glimpse before it closed
grab some evidence to prove it really existed
dusty microscope throw scientist off the scent
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poetry won on a game show and stored in a garage
rusty lawn mower & paint tins
decorated poetry
lent to the neighbour like a bowl of sugar (returned years later with vowels missing)
avalanche caused by seismic shifts
only the animals could feel
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at times, Johnny Boy, where we stand was not dry
water being the open secret of the universe
the clock ticks for the coming Rapture
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water flows between different states,
ever changing,
where would Noah be without it?
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—————the sex bonanza of Noah———
a strange version of earth carrying the life of earth
a floating earth
Noah playing the role of man
the genius of primitive Christianity
primal man and woman
gospel without shores
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THE APPROACH OF DEATH
MEN IN SLOW MODE DIGGING THE GRAVE
A CAREER WITH MANY SECRETS
FATHER AND SONS AND AGITATION
BURROWING FRUITS
TINY SHARKS
MOTHER SPEECHLESS
LIKE AN ANCIENT PILLOW
FUTILE EFFORTS WITH A FINGER
UNFINISHED AT BEST
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ANGELS FALLING FROM HEAVEN
AND MEN TRYING TO COVER THEM WITH KISSES
what does that mean ?
BOYHOOD READING BY THE MILE
HUMAN PHYSICAL APPEARANCES
AFRAID TO GO OUTSIDE
men with alphabetical thoughts and hands
attractive men stand closer
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————————————–she refused to talk
to the children until they were adults
why rattle their cage ?
endless courses in Modern British Literature
writers artists heroes idols—not a single American
photos of honeymoon touchdown points
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children in cages
poked with sticks, feed on books and washed down with gin,
most of my favourite authors are American, I have a list
we all have lists
my honeymoon was spent in a city of canals and bridges
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no musical behavior in Florida
stone cold dead
multiple children under the age of puberty
humanely caged after school
unmet needs and milestones unnoticed
conversational poetry
first-person narratives
work-life tension
increasingly distracted
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death delayed
the grave diggers hate the cold ground – broken shovels
snapped nails
– cold air tiny sharks
dying trees shed their barks
a carpet of leaves underfoot
it’s the season for change
– it’s called the fall
autumnal
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———-the upper crust———–
ANGELS FALLING FROM THE SKY
some were dressed like Little Lord Fauntleroy
dirty heaven folk trying to secure their footing
hard erect antlers—perplexing insider language
backsides with the smell of exotic woods
small tiny tunnels unspoiled
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plenty of pushback and anger
curious incidents in the bedroom
sexual coders—almost wrestle mania
later the children would rattle the cages
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your new neighbors are apes
my new neighbors are machines
poetry about the deepening relationship
between human and machine
uncomfortable intercourse
potential consequences
*augmentation
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circled your wagon with artificial intelligence
———-poetry pushing against something
the written word full of missteps
a trace of something that had been rubbed out
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THE EARTH BECOMES A DUMPING GROUND
VIRGINIA WOOLF AND CHARLES DICKENS
BY THE SIDE OF THE ROAD
WORDLESS STREET PEOPLE
SOPHISTICATED CRAP OF LITTLE MERIT
ANATOMICALLY CORRECT DOLLS
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cage match babies in full diapers
dribbling, gurgling,
they would grow to be 11ft tall – the children of babies
– you can’t pushback this evolution
anger over the small print
shocking when magnified
when revealed
– the secret code which only the children knew
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the deepening relationship between man and machine
eyes glued to screen
168 emails a day
a photo with every meal
machines talking behind our back
potential consequence
you can see the wires in the child
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nothing’s rubbed out
always a trace
faint line, grey turning white
disappearing
a memory of a line,
of the idea of a line –
poetry exhausting outside edges,
leaking words
– filling the volume
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POETRY EXHAUSTING OUTSIDE EDGES
MINISKIRTS AND FISHNET STOCKINGS
GOTTA SHELTER OUR POETS
EVERY STEP OF THE WAY
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TOO BUSY DOODLING
TO SPOT THE WIRES
HUMAN WORRIES AND DESIRES
INSIDE A MACHINE
HOW WILL SHE GROW ?
A THICKET OF HAIR
A LITTLE DIFFERENT NOW
A LITTLE MORE LATER
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AT NIGHT THERE WAS THE ANKLE LEASH
YES, SHE WAS A MACHINE
DAILY BODY LANGUAGE
COMMUNICATING
LONGING LOOKS
MATHEMATICALLY IMPOSSIBLE
ORCHESTRATION
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SLIPPING LIKE A CAT BURGLAR INTO VAGINA
THICK WITH HALF-THOUGHTS, EXTRA HARD
SOMEONE WOULD FIND THE COURAGE TO APOLOGIZE
A MEANINGLESS EXCHANGE OF WORDS
THE LONE RANGER REROUTING UNNOTICED
TOUGH-GIRL WITH HER UNDERPANTS OFF
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——–INCEST———–
FICTION AND NONFICTION
LANDSCAPES
SENSITIVE READERS NOT WELCOME
RELATIVES ARE VISIBLE SCARS
IN HOLIDAY PHOTOGRAPHS
TATTERED ROMANCE
——————————-
UPSETTING RESEMBLANCE
TO THE REAL JOHNNY BOY
——THE NEW GUIDE DOG
——A MODEST PIECE OF HOME
DETECTIVES WORKING UNDER THE TABLE
AS LITERARY THEORISTS
————————————-
YOUR BROTHER AND YOU
WERE MONEY-MEN
IN YOUTH
————–
YOUR FINGERS WERE WHITE GHOSTS
COATED WITH GOSPEL SUGAR
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keep ’em under cover
below umbrellas
inside bomb-shelters
wrapped inside duvets
every step of the way
(the echo of footsteps behind you)
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machines don’t have hair,
imagine a microwave in a wig
– circuit boards as heart and lungs
she tried to donate her hair to the foundry, to mannequins and androids
there are always wires
there are always connections
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a machine that needed daily oiling
, small changes in her calibration
plugged in overnight to regain a charge
at night she mumbled a series of ones and zeroes
zeroes and ones
her features looked like an angry pi sign
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WHETHER SOMETHING HAPPENED ONCE
——————–OR CONTINUALLY
MACHINES MAY LEARN TO CRY
IT WILL BE DIFFERENT FROM OTHER CRYING
—————–REJECTION———
FROM THE WAIST DOWN
A RECURRING DEATH-WISH
TRAPPED IN DESPERATION
CUDDLE BUNNY ALL GROWN UP
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hair virtually unheard of
children in young adult bodies
transparent plastic parts
—————————-no Hungarian robots
he told her that it was a soup ladle
a wide pleasing face with a constant smile
colored attitudes toward other machines
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Gary Cooper in a cage—Pocahontas outdoors
strapping young men for both
train ride fantasies
love gap
nervous brown town
endless martinis
*saddled for a short ride
——————————————————
——————————————————
machines devoted to reworkings of memories
distressing encounters with native Americans
fleeing from them—leaving gifts along the trail
things too complex—beyond painting oneself
into a corner or a museum piece
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a burglar in barbed wired
no escape plan
no alibi
the single minded determination of the recidivist
– a modern day Arnold Layne
kickers hanging from his back pocket
– a secret code for a secret society
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there are no longer children
young adults with phones
Russian cyborgs, 34% tin,
explode at night small fires seen across the Volga
Barbie on crack
penis-less Ken, smooth like varnished wood
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BLUNTED EMOTIONAL RESPONDING
BEEN RAN OVER BY LARGE TRUCK
LEFT FOR DEAD ON THE SIDE OF THE ROAD
WHITE BREAD BEING DELIVERED
TO FUKUSHIMA DAIICHI
TO SOAK UP THE NUCLEAR WASTE
IN THE MIDST OF BEING EATEN BY ANTS
RESILIENCE IN THE FACE OF TRAUMA
A TIGHT SMILE FOR OTHERS IN JAPAN
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———PENIS-LESS KEN————
if aficionados will pay the extra fee
———————————————-
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mathematics finagled
extreme gravity
Margaret Tudor in bed
split-level crotch
sin but no dirt
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canvas trousers
with reinforced knee padding
honeymoon advice:
————–destabilize
————–restore yourself
yesterday we were from cavemen
tomorrow we come from astronauts
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what does one do with a stray word ?
wastepaper baskets on the moon
an essay, a monologue, a stab
at conversational poetry
poetry achieved out of excess
———————-out of madness
———————-not to be cajoled
*the smell of sodomy in the steamroom
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a small path through low self-esteem
battle reports from the bedroom
Braille
he couldn’t read her correctly
a joke not funny
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tomorrow astronauts stationed on the moon – postcards sent back to earth
WISH YOU WERE HERE
– space walking man
connected to oxygen umbilical chords –
muscles weaken a million miles frond home
eyes closed to sleep as the honeymoon film plays silently in the background
moonbase alpha
Kentucky
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sleep always starts out
sitting around a campfire
as a youth
smoking cigarettes
and laughing
a sort of free-floating
euphoria
——-you report you started the honeymoon film
an instruction manual for the first time
no difference how you do it
long as you do it good
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the sound of the treadle
against
memories of Kentucky
poets stuck in thick material
life as meaningless
as their socks
———————-
———————-
some of the girls
had to be sewn
a tuft of flesh
over the private spot
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white-blazing filaments
genitals forever burning
————she called it light
but even children knew that was a lie
………………………………….derelicts sleeping
in heaven
wearing their funeral clothes
no one can break the spell
or count the pretzels
in laundry bags
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AN AWARENESS OF THE TIES
THAT EXIST IN CONVERSATIONAL
POETRY
————
————
HABITS OF WORK
LONG SPIRAL SENTENCES
INSENSITIVENESS TO PROPORTION
CONSUMPTION OF TIME
loved ones say that they need the time
concealed depths of bitterness
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walking through glue
sticky like the molasses girl
moonshine makers and the campfires
explosions on the interstate
a tuft
a ravine
a crevice
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buried in a washing machine dressed as a clown
it wasn’t right
but you couldn’t say it was wrong
– Asperger boy finding patterns at the bingo
clues in car license plates
airline numbers
the failed expedition to the bottom of the sea
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bitterness is anger minus distance
to close to the fact
to the event
poetry as words
no deeper meaning
no hidden message
it is what it is and we are what we are
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stray words caught in butterfly nets
pinned down in a book of remembrance
words swapped like baseball cards on street corners
– one stolen and held for ransom
big money rewards
the cold is coming
the floor is the crackle of dead leaves
shedding skin
a cycle of rebirth
a night school where people sit in circles and discuss BIG issues with little words
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MEN FROM THE REST STOPS ON I-95
SIT AROUND IN CIRCLES
AND DISCUSS BIG ISSUES
WITH MENTAL DAYDREAMS
OF SMALL HANDS
NEXT DOOR
REALLY ANCIENT PEOPLE
RECALL THE NAZI OCCUPATION
THEY WERE HITLERITE SPECIALS
CAUGHT UP IN THE DANGERS
OF LIPS-TO-LIPS AND FRENCHING
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BABYCAKES
NATURAL AND UNNATURAL
SPECULATIVE SPELLS
AT THE CONDO CLUBHOUSE
A MASTER ORALIST
COULD DIVE DEEPER
INTO THE HIDDEN NATURE
OF WORD BONDAGE
HE KNEW FULL WELL
THE LEVEL OF FREEDOM
THAT WORDS COULD EVOKE
*in his youth he feared the poisonous
breath—much like our body fluids (AIDS)
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SEVEN YEARS AFTER THE FAILED VOYAGE
TO THE BOTTOM OF THE LARGE WATERS
AND THEY STILL PUMP OXYGEN
DOWN THE TUBE
*he might be alive (yes, miracles do happen)
AMERICAN NEWSPAPERS STATED THAT
HE MUST BE “STIMULUS-STARVED”
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no surprise———–endless buds open
in your mind’s eye
each one circles your dong
biological drama
insatiably procreative
and years after the struggle
not a single memory
*hint*
try to bypass the main entrance
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tardy reactions to the questioning
YOUR POETRY NEVER MAULED BY CORRECTIONS
not enough time but plenty of saliva
noise without so much as a wink
you mention crack flapping
I mention walking on blades of swords
while kissing an angry snake
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A PROOFREADER PARTY
DOZENS OF REWRITINGS AVAILABLE
ENORMOUS PILES OF MISTAKES
EVERYONE IS UNMARRIED
*Chernobyl genitals and sweating verbs
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natural becomes unnatural becomes natural
where does fake begin?
she could deep dive into numbers
try to figure out 15 ways to arrange the data
– words bring freedom
lost deep inside a 1000 pages
we become the protagonist
who ever the writer describes you’ll see yourself
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UNDER THE LIGHT
AND THROUGH THE MAGNIFIER
EXCEPTIONS AND AMBIGUITIES
ANATOMICAL ASSIGNMENTS
HERMAPHRODITISM
OVERSIZED MOUSTACHES
MULTIPLE MANIPULATIONS
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I remember the news story
the pictures of the oxygen pump,
an arrow, a dial slowly moving towards zero,
a man a suit and a tube
relatives waving at a pier
a crowd in the wharf
flowers thrown
– a planned descent with unplanned incidents
– the captain log book was unreadable
you could see the bubbles rising up to the surface
I remember the news stories
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never mauled by corrections
stuck to the path
never strayed onto the moor
– she spent last August reading a book called “How to be a werewolf” –
– silent noise & sharpe edges
“put the sword back in the scabbard”
the obituaries made comical reading
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– the dyslexic readers group meet once a week to judge books by their cover –
the proofreaders are paid per words
a filing cabinet of first drafts
stacked up & left waiting
people in Chernobyl send postcards to Fukushima
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DISORDERED STATES OF MIND POETRY
UNLICENSED MATHEMATICIANS
I TOLD YOU NOT TO HIRE THEM
OR PERMIT THEM TO RESIDE
IN OUR FAIRY TALE
THE MANY PLEASURES OF POETRY
TRICKSY TRICKS—HAMMERS AND SAWS
READERS TRYING TO MEND THINGS
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the moustache grows into the beard
the beard hides secrets
– the US tried to set fire to Castros beard
– burned the cane fields
explosive cigars
poisonous fish
– under the microscope of history
manipulations nudge events off their trajectory
she is he as you are me
the viewer and the viewed
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————for six years you were not you
way back past birth—past conception
although you stood watching
the cramp that made you
————————-to begin at the beginning
fundamental problems
you watched the poking
the wrestle of love
but the seed was too small
TOO MUCH LIFE AND TOO FEW SUITCASES
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THANKS FOR ASKING
WHEN I VISIT THE BATHROOM
IT IS ALWAYS NEO-VICTORIAN
EXPERT MECHANICS TO MAKE THINGS RIGHT
POST-NOAH’S ARK OR SOMETHING
POETRY NOT “WITH” BUT “AGAINST” THE READER
*readers at the internment camp complain too much
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wig-flipping going on over here
detectives sitting on branches
tart-tongued star in bipolar spiral
voters facing Thorazine
shock therapy
lobotomy
petty children tortured
future poets in an orphanage
Auschwitz survivors—every one of them
*buttons saying “up the chimney once”
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poets in rigor mortis
brothel educated
pop poets
——————————-malaria
——————————-typhus
——————————-bedbugs
the lady poets tried to delay
gratification
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fetuses along the highway
proof that recreational sex exists
no traditional life in Kentucky
99 percent guilt free
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a pulley
a lever
a contraption that confuses
– human exertion
to much sweat
– the bathroom as a retreat, primal scream therapy
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detectives scratching code / writing
in spiral note pads
– poor descriptions of half seen events
padded out to satisfy the inquisitor
anything read can be considered poetry
lobotomised for Christmas
bingo
full house
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delayed gratification
trying to stick a a finger in the dyke
hold back the floods
build the barricades
– the levee breaks to the sound of New Orleans Jazz
a sunk city
she bite her lip and waited
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grandfather fought in holy lands
inside a metal stomach
slept in dusty pyramids
came home sun tanned and covered in nightmares
– tattooed numbers
displaced bodies
– shock treatment
the orphanage
– survivors of all kinds of things
build a new ark
arc light spreads across the foundry
stolen cutlery shows up on x-Ray machines
3000 comments
weaving a narrative
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SCRATCHING DETECTIVES SCRATCHING
CODES ABOUT GENDER ROLES
CODES ABOUT CLOSETED FEELINGS
BUBBLES IN THE POETRY POOL
TRANSLATED CENSORSHIP
ONE WORD AT A TIME
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DETECTIVES WRITE DOWN
“WIFE, A DINOSAUR IN A PANTSUIT”
A NONENTITY
PERHAPS
one fifty dollar word hidden in a shoe box
DIVORCED FROM HAPPY TIMES
PRISON GUARD MOMMY
RECKLESSNESS IN THE KITCHEN
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dinosaurs in clown pants
easy to spot through the trees
trick or treating with heavy artillery, the children in masks
no kitchens just fires and burnt
meat seasoned with earth
too many TV detectives impersonate real life
awoken by sirens racing to the landing site
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NEW ORLEANS JAZZ—A LOT LESS NURTURING
NO ONE WOULD SAY THAT OUT LOUD
WORN-OUT BEAT FROM A WOMAN’S MAGAZINE
CHILDLESS MUSIC
PRIMITIVE BIRTH CONTROL
ABORTIONS WITH A STICK
HBO PANTHEON OF NEW ORLEANS JAZZ
LIKE FAKE FOOD
DELAYED GRATIFICATION
*Taco Bell Diarrhea
DOWNWARD SLIDE OF A CULTURE
VERY REALISTIC BUT WHAT ABOUT THE SMELL ?
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TATTOOED TUFTS OF FLESH
ALL THAT SEX
NO LAUNDRY CAN ERASE THE DISEASE
*delayed gratification seemed like a bad idea
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HBO SPECIALS ABOUT FEMALE HOLSTERS
ADJUSTABLE-SPEED VIBRATING DILDOS
DON’T SAY “NO”
SAY “JUST NOT NOW”
FAKE FREEDOM
FAKE FOOD
NEW ORLEANS JAZZ
*if you want—I’ll give you an Obama apology
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it was a crappy ass baby anyway—always crying
3 blankets around the head New Orleans Jazz
probably a bar band baby
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in your face expressionism—clown pants with prude hands
strangle everything—strangle everyone
a punch in the face romance
no more oxygen for you
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ARE YOU CLIMBING A GREASY POLE ?
competition in poetry—ultimately pointless
lovers with emotional carryovers
women with strange shadows
reflections more creature than human
I’ve warned you time and time again
if they fail the tests—leave them at the rest stop
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——–listener’s attention—–
listening to the words being read
blood around the target
the average person throws concerns
the poet more aligned with background sounds
preambles and drug tests
artificial intelligence
your beloved X-ray vision
relatives and holiday mates
just conceptual skeletons
*I saw you peeking at their fingertips
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no competition –
no greasy poles just telegraph poles holding up the lines of communication
– woman with strange eyebrows
odd creatures aren’t we all?
– covered in clothes all hearing voices
silent ones that mumble
ones that you can’t pin down
real or unreal?
left them at the rest stop but went back 30minutes later to pick them up
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night time fluff floating around the laundrette
– neon lights flash
attracts them there like flies
– junebugs drinking litre jugs of Coke – scarred hands tell stories
– all that sex was just stories
fabrications
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dildos run off the national grid
one speed
friction sparks ignite the tinderbox
she wanted that apology in writing
in triplicate
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THE OTHER END OF THE ALIMENTARY CANAL
——————————————————————-
THE OPTION OF SACRIFICING ONE LIFE
TO SAVE MULTIPLE LIVES
————————————-
AGONIZING SCENARIOS
BOGUS MASCULINITY
DISHONEST SEXUALITY
SPONTANEOUS PROSE
CONVERSATIONAL POETRY
ADVERTISING ON A CODPIECE
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WITH ALL THAT MATHEMATICAL MAYHEM
YOU’VE MISPLACED YOUR EYE PATCH
I MUST SAY, “UNATTRACTIVE EYE SNOT”
ASSOCIATIONAL VALUES ?
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JERKY HANDHELD POETRY
A PATH OF THOUGHTS
ABRUPT CUTS
A DIARY OF WAKE-UP CALLS
UNBOUNDED SITUATIONS TO REDEFINE
———————————————————–
———————————————————–
THE INFORMATION WAS CRIMINALLY FALSE
THE BAD EYE OF THE CHAUFFEUR POET
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a diary of 1980s voicemail messages – this is the future you never dreamed of –
fell down a sink hole
landed on a bed of nails
sloppy use poetry devices
rules bent
like the branches of your family tree
rooted a thousand miles deep
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VOICEMAIL MOLD
SEEMINGLY BOUNDLESS APPETITE
FOR MESSAGES
POETIC PARASITIC OPPORTUNISTS
THE WOMAN AT THE LIBRARY
WITH HER PREDATORY NOSE
AND TIGHT SEAM MOUTH
PLUNGING AND COUPLING—WHO KNOWS ?
EGO ENHANCEMENT
NOT DOLLARS AND CENTS
BUT INCHES OUT THE FRONT DOOR
A REAL MAN HAS THE NUMBERS
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stillness of library
devoid of atmosphere
moon landings filmed in warehouse
suspicious deaths
mouths closed
noses sense the scent
clues in crosswords
4 down
17 across
six letters
resemble coupons
PIN numbers will gain you access
we know the numbers
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the NEW library with its cream separator
makes the reader the VICTIM
not the VICTOR
the DEVIL you say
with his curdled JISM
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Satan was selling preoccupation with virility
“bitless masculinity”
even the women were talking
about the menfolk
souping up the nut sac
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GEOGRAPHIC SPACE AS A MEANS
OF ESCAPING THE PAST
AND POSSIBLY THE FUTURE
THE COSMIC FORCES THAT GOVERN
ROMANCE AND MARRIAGE
ENDLESS SNIPS OF REALITY
GO TO GREAT LENGTHS
TO RENDER THE POET IMPOTENT
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curdled jism blocks the exit
like chemo hair that blocks the drain
– alligators in the sewers
a myth
like the knife wielding manic in the summer camp woods –
– the victim slumped shoulders
carrying the guilt
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———–CARRYING THE GUILT———–
THE MONEY EXCHANGE FOR TOUCHING
YOUR MANHOOD
MERE GEOGRAPHY YOU SAID
BACON DRIPPINGS
EXCITED EVERYONE
AT THE ZODIAC ZOO
THE WHOLE SCHEME OF MARRIAGE
THE WHITTLING AWAY OF JOHNNY BOY
*the small hounds are caught up in a fruitless chase
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they would do away with geography – everywhere would be the same – money exchanged in dark corners
– guilty joy
– joyous guilt
– the killer and the killed
streets lined with ghouls,
the ghost of the war dead,
car crash corpses,
the drowned,
the bodies of the murdered,
victims, suicides,
Johnny boy whittled down to my shoes
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———WHITTLED DOWN TO MY SHOES———
COMPLETE MEDICAL DETAILS ARE NOT AVAILABLE
internal hemorrhaging
external hemorrhaging
complaints about stale breath
*bad joke about the neurological scar being visible
from outer space
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children down the street
said that it was
“global cognitive functions”
tossed up in the air Johnny Boy
despite his best efforts to prevent it
he had to endure and then endure again
*better company to be found with wild buffaloes
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it’s all a conspiracy
these words
in this order
parts of Johnny Boy reorganised
michael and the black bulls rising through town
midnight Michael and the Jazz reverie
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the morning after
aches and pains
blank patches of inaction
– short circuit of major functions = disconnection
all things tossed in the air
like pancakes and stars
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THE BEINGS INSIDE THE UFO
SAID THAT THEY WERE SEARCHING
FOR A HUMAN WITH A TRUE RANGE
OF EMOTION AND A NOBILITY OF CHARACTER
SEEMS ALL THEY WERE FINDING
WERE THINGS TOSSED IN THE AIR
LIKE PANCAKES AND STARS
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SEEMS LIKE EVERY MORNING
IS THE MORNING AFTER
INDIRECTLY COMMITTING SUICIDE
————————————————–
ANIMALISM IS THE TRUE RELIGION
RESPONSIVE READERS
HIDE IN THE BUSHES
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READERS WHO WALK ON THEIR HIND LEGS
AND PUT ON FANCY AIRS
SOMEHOW COPING
WITH THE PSYCHIC BURDEN
HANDED DOWN BY THE PAST
*from the wild fire to the tame hearth
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the poet had to leave Kentucky
he was looking for a woman
with a quality copper-lined kettle
——————————————-
literate, educated caveman
in want of industrious woman
with inner strength
and clean parts
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the tried to locate the one sentient being – one with a range of emotions – possibly located somewhere in a African village of mud huts and animal pelts –
or an urban conurbation, high up on the 76th floor, in a room full of TVs and bad ideas –
– but nothing was confirmed
confusion on the space craft
confusion on my street
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every morning after is always the morning after where lines are drawn
resolutions decided
and the next night
is the one that breaks the camels back And u-turns committed
—
*from what we know a good credit card can get you low rates of repayment over a 24month period
terms and conditions always apply
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fancy airs can be trimmed and cut back
psychic barber with sharp scissors
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THOUSANDS AND THOUSANDS OF GLASS JARS
AND BOTTLES
BROKEN INTO PIECES
AND MIXED IN WITH THE BURIAL DIRT
EVERYONE KNOWS WHY
BUT NO ONE SAYS A WORD
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and then there was Moby Dick
always Moby Dick
Ahabean Reality
a life of cutlery
a self-fulfilling prophecy
ever-sweet interpreters at work
alphabets with extra letters
forks and spoons combined
peculiar designs
memories of Adam and Eve
Noah and the value of other people
Noah wived with an angry Lord
the bloated babies and children
that came directly from their intercourse
the earth was covered with bones and teeth
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you said, “OARSMEN”
and I thought of your family members
they who employ your actual life
they who cough up funky ambergris
and sell it to pay off the decay
———opposites connected——
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tough-girl unspeckled and hither sided
an intellect with the need for an industrial plunger
Daddy brings many things to the surface
the purr of the kitty
the demon heart
that pants beneath
fang and nail
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IT WAS LIKE EASTER
FINDING ALL THOSE
PRONOUNS UNDEFINED
———————————–
RECOGNIZABLE NEW ORLEANS JAZZ
JOHNNY BOY POINTS TO THE INDICTOR
JOHNNY BOY POINTS TO THE CONSOLER
READERS PROVOKED TO ACTION
ACOUSTICAL REVELATIONS
THE WEAK ONES TAKE THE CONVENTIONALS
STRONGER ONES TACKLE THE REVERSALS
THE VISIBLE WORLD IS THIN
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(THINKING ABOUT SYNCHRONOUS TIME AND CUTLERY)
relatives around the grave
too late for final questions
the hands of temporal and atemporal wave
the birds fly over the hollow pretensions
warbling poets are in the trees
the traveling circus of Johnny Boy
“it done left town”
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inside glass bottles and jars
the discarded and unwanted remnants from botched surgeries
– blunt edges and covered in dust
– everyone said they should have stopped but no one told them
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members of the family take turns on watch
strange faces rejected
chased interlopers out of town –
Jonah washed up on the shore
Jonah washed up in the shore
detritus and ambergris
they all gathered together inside the Toyota, 18 squeezed in
the engine revved to the shouts of RAMMING SPEED
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bandleader Many Michaels
baton in hand –
Florida Joe and the Harbingers of the Poetical Dialect
– a noise so painful it was beautiful –
baton twirling
undercurrents
sound carried on warm sea air – people blessed with the sound 23miles aways –
a revelation
the membrane between what we think and what we know, the yeast that binds –
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YOU SPEAK OF THE MEMBRANE
A PERSISTENT FLAP OF TISSUE
SHADOWS IN THE WOMB
THE RED VOLCANO
TOUCH OR TOUCH NOT
A WRESTLE OF DOMINION
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A FREE RESIDUAL ECHO FROM GOD
small Spanish men wrestling at the Polo Club
what was once internalized
is now externalized
a life of fractured portions
paralyzing thoughts
poetry may soon
be no longer possible
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the volcano is patient
it just waits and thinks
– the poet as philanthropist
giving away words
well received and equally discarded
– I’ve read online surveys
completed tests
deciphered codes –
I’m still no wiser
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I TOO, HAVE TAKEN THE ONLINE SURVEYS
COMPLETED TESTS
DECIPHERED EMILY DICKINSON
DECIPHERED GREEK
DECIPHERED MODERN CODES
—–THE SECRET SEEMS TO BE KNOWN “HISTORY”
—–WHO HAS GONE BEFORE
ONE MAN, MANY MEN, WHITE OR BLACK
THOUSANDS OF TIMES
MILLIONS OF TIMES
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LISTLESS IN PUSHING TOWARD RESOLUTION
THE TRUE POEM IS SLOW TO SURFACE
EMILY STARES AT YOU FROM UP ABOVE
ARE YOU NOT A DICKERSON ?
*precisely the issue of this poem
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EMILY DICKINSON WAS STANDING IN LINE
TO WRESTLE WITH THE LORD
FAMOUS FOR REACHING
EVER OUTWARD
NEVER
THINKING OF THOUGHTS
THAT MIGHT CURL BACK
AND BITE
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the surveys asked the wrong questions
– multiple choice questions but only one answer
no choice ONLY PUT AN X IN THE BOX
history based on half truths
the million who have gone first
and the rest who will follow
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a night in a flop house, cheap rates for bed and breakfast – no extra charge for the fleas
– the ones that sucked on skin,
you feel the blood move around
– pictures on the wall
bathroom cabinet full of someone else’s tablets
a bath full of hair
– black bulls and
horse kicking up sparks –
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Oh Lordy, bad sanitary arrangements
utmost callousness
guessing games
peculiar emotions
POETRY bound up
domestic blond hair
overpowering the edges
a genital signature
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———–a missed ovulation—————
obstacles in the way—a bad samba beat
tattered brown underwear with modern clichés
the personality—flexibility at the coffee café
poetry in pleated pants
words on pages
calendar dust
*a thin mustache is a nasty mustache
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hoity-toity intellectuals
poets licking their wounds
night sweats and shots of coffee
amateur farts on crowded elevators
never stand behind a thin mustache
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egg bound blockage
stomach extended
hollow drum echo
unholy poetry
written inside the pentangle
illegible signatures
walking into walls in the dark
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no namby-pamby signatures
no snowflakes only sunbeams
Florida—one of the loneliest outposts
waywardness outside youth
the great mission
becomes the self
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mischievous prank poetry
reader-identification
savage women
men with sailor diseases
religion constantly more narrow
yo-ho-ho Jesus
climb a tree
*whatever it takes to pay the rent
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discouraging work
low-tension school boy
a private cuckoo for the clock
Johnny Boy guessing
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each year is the final year
Eve and the constant disobey
forbid like pet vomit
you shall not
the duty of being correct
superiors and equals
I think the doctor
said, “Pluribus Unum”
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retired folk sit and watch the sea
a lifetime runs through their brain like a film reel
gnarled hands
liver spots
regression to a specific time in place, sitting uncomfortably with their self and their woes
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Jesus confused with Santa Claus
– beards and frost bitten toes
sailor diseases obtained on the high seas – narrow passage
walking down hallways in your dreams, endless and like a dry river bed
a list of presents with prices in brackets, south of Mexico
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RETIRED FOLKS HAVE GOTTEN A REFUND
AND MOVED ELSEWHERE
SOUTH FLORIDA IS JUST ONE LARGE ANGRY CITY
THE OCEAN NO LONGER COMES CLOSE TO THE SHORE
KNEE-DEEP IN THE SWAMPS WITH BUGS AND GATORS
UNLIMITED CRIME AND TRIGGER-HAPPY COPS
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on the wrong side of the dividing line
thumbnail sketch of Norman
his darker impulses
glued to young hands
love of railroads
and uncut men
if one has the stomach
reality is easy to locate
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hamburger patty with flaming little buds
out-think or outrank bouffant
patterns of behavior
fractured grammar
man-made snakes
ridiculed poetry
poets sleeping under cars
unspooled lovers
slamming motel brakes
gravel and dirt from sex holes
sort of an insult
thinking of it as a hamburger patty
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reconstruct the entire event
the honeymoon wreck
a hymen with personality
HARPOONING THE FLAP
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always guessing
low tension activities
the teacher marked the homework in red pen
ticks and crosses
***, in Italy for 30 years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, and bloodshed, but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love – they had 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.
So long***
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obesity Eve never more than 12ft from deep fried food, a chicken in her pocket
– the night time sweats
elasticatic pants
– night murmurs about snakes
– the irony of the Apple
no wonder Adam left
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how does one paraphrase a hamburger patty with flaming little buds?
reconstructed monologues from pool hall days
pivotal moments with strange barber shirts (Cuban ?)
kidnapped sex stories from magazines
raw sex with a dash of scientific detachment
observers seemed disinterested
mistakes were made
*thank God there was no knife throwing
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ITALY FOR 30 YEARS
ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT
IS BUCK ANTELOPES
WITH BRIGHT PINK DONGS
LONG THIN TUBES
HONEYMOON CHATTER (warfare, terror, murder,
bloodshed, dilated veins at the mouth of the anus)
——————————————————————-
——you told me once that your favorite teacher
was an anesthetist
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POETS ARE PROHIBITED FROM SLEEPING
UNDER CARS
IN
SWITZERLAND
*little rewards that lure them out into the open
*antelope hooves drumming
*the weird tip of an antelope penis
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tangle with poetry firsthand
immerse readers in a kind of dream
a fictive web
almost in whispers
left hand—-secret diaries
right hand–court records
———————————–
———————————–
in Florida there are no blue-black bulls
—outside the window—
loafers, idlers, impotent scientists,
retirees, bystanders
*crack plaster everywhere
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the flap like an ancient dinosaur wing
– the honeymoon instructions followed time and time again
no deviation from the original source –
no deviation or repetition
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FUSSING OVER FLAP CHOICE
MYRIAD CONCERNS
THAT COME INTO PLAY
WHEN ONE IS POSSIBLY
TOUCHING THE FUTURE
*crack plaster on the walls of love
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reaching Mexico
requires
administrative abilities
her pad—your pencil
sketch round hole
square peg
lust studded with circles
and crosses
and checkmarks
lube up the dry river bed
the goal beyond the thicket
methodically
A BEGINNING WRITER
NOT VERY EFFICIENT
DEAD ENDS
MAYBE SOMETHING UNEXPECTED
SANTA WITH THE BEST GIFT
“ORDERLY PROGRESSION OF COURSE”
SHE WAS PARROTING MOANS
FROM AN AMISH PORNO MOVIE
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JOHNNY BOY WITH YELLOW LEGAL PAD
FACTS ON KEY CHARACTERS
BACKSTORIES FROM DETECTIVES
OVERWHELMING DETAIL
MICROSURGERY AT HOME
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SIMPLY A RESULT OF DIFFERENT LIFE CYCLES
BOSS POETS WITH COMPONENTS
TO INTELLIGENCE
OLD MAN ADAM WITH 900 YEARS
PROCREATING UP THERE WITH THE BEST
*paleontologists at the birthday party
*one could smell southeastern Africa on them
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tough-girl coughed up ambergris
leftover junk
from her man-making laboratory
Neanderthals
Cro-Magnon types
pool hall sapiens
———————–
the forbidden threshold
hesitation in crossing
*afraid
*mom and dad were apes
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I was afraid of reviving the dead
a hamburger patty
or worse
————————–commandments
appropriate…non-appropriate
hygienic reproduction
pharmaceutical
human-sized
MICHAEL
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amateur poet with the words in no order – jumbled like
socks in the dryer
– small attendance at the palaeontologist party (cavemen were invited but none attended)
people mingle in small circles
– small sparks from corduroy friction
bones and fossils given as keepsakes in party bags
radioactive remains under the Curie house, 19 foot flower block out the sun, mysterious lumps
honeymoon memories
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900 year old man
scrotum down by his ankles
stretch his skin out for a thousand yards
not in a cycle, just a straight line
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HOW MANY TIMES COULD THEY CROSS-EXAMINE
THE CHARACTERS FROM THE BIBLE ?
SECRETARY AFTER SECRETARY DIED FROM EXHAUSTION
TESTIMONY IN 27 LANGUAGES
SOUNDTRACKS OF MOURNERS
ENDLESS CALCULATIONS FROM EXPERTS
IT WASN’T SAFE TO WALK NEAR THE COURTHOUSE
THEY WERE JERKING PEOPLE INTO THE FIASCO
NO TIME TO CLUE WITNESSES INTO THE ESSENTIAL BACKSTORY
BEGINNING IN THE MIDDLE
SOMETIMES
EVENTS WERE HAPPENING IN REAL TIME
IMAGINED REALITY UNFOLDED
FICTION—NONFICTION
FLASHBACKS—FLASHFORWARDS
—————————–CLIFF-HANGER POETRY
SQUID FARTS
*baked squid and turbulent water
*jazzed up flarf with an outward smell
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SIGNS OF PERSPIRATION
ON THE NECK
OF APE HISTORY
SELF-ABSORBED FIRST-PERSON FLARF
COLORED POETRY
VILLAGERS POUNDING THE DRUMS
UNENCUMBERED NUT SAC BLUES
A SPECIAL JAZZ OF INTIMACY
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THE INCIDENT AT THE TOWER OF BABEL
POETS AND OTHER UNNAMED COLLEAGUES
COORDINATED WORDS AND AGENDAS
*a young Mikhail Gorbachev inflated like a balloon
SKY-SCANNING FOR EXTRATERRESTRIALS
FLARF POETS LOWERING THE GUARD
BONFIRES OF POETRY
COMPLEX GRAVITATIONAL FIELDS
ORBITS AND ODDITIES AND DRUMS
PHARMACEUTICALS FROM THE VILLAGE
ADAM WITH HIS 900 YEAR OLD NUT SAC
HIS KINGSHIP LOWERED TO TOUCH EARTH
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rounded the characters up and stored them like holiday souvenirs
keep them separated –
collusion down to a minimum
– lie detector tests going spastic, peaks and troughs resembling a mountain range
– disciples at the gates buying peanuts and trinkets – TV news
live feed
– cuneiform scripts writing cramp hand
ballistic reports
gurney photographs
– the crowd gather and grow, spilt milk spreads
jumping narrative
Michael inciting the crowd
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ringleader Michael
selling the rocks that will be thrown –
disgruntled with the flarf man
flushed the fifth verse down the shitter
– wiped the slate empty tundra
self absorption is a must
self absorbed floating above and looking down
did I hear bongos in that jazz?
refrain refrain refrain
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THE FEAR OF BONGOS IN JAZZ
MADE THE POET SLIP INTO A THIRD-PERSON OPTION
BOY SCOUTS CALLED IT, “THIRD-PERSON OMNISCIENT”
SEE EVERYTHING-EVERYWHERE-AT ANYTIME
A SMALL COIN PURSE
SWEDENBORGIAN PRINCIPLES OF OBEDIENCE
THE OPENING REMAINS CLOSED
AWKWARDLY THE HONEYMOON ENDS IN SILENCE
BYSTANDERS HEARD NOTHING
GENERALIZING OR GENDERIZING ?
*nothing after that night was ever essentially the same
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the day the great bird of the sky
circled Johnny Boy
parachutes for Christmas
clothes to suit the occasion
spoken word trousers
codpiece diction
markers in the bedroom
—–could try
—–could endeavor
Johnny smoked
the Swedish
the Norwegian
overstuffed
all those childhood memories
that snazzy Aston Martin
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wildlife biologists
and detectives
pointing at skeletons
tripod Johnny
the scent of a pipe
underwear unrolled
strong emotions
ridiculed English
single-minded
focus
sharp focus
things unnoticed
poets sleeping under cars
poets from up above
less than ants
“God with his knowing eye”
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——————HUGE FEAR—————–
INADEQUATE WRITING VOCABULARY
ON THE HONEYMOON NIGHT
thinking about beginnings
alternative beginnings
odd curve—good curve—bad curve
fourth of July conclusion
a few seconds
five days
gallons of sweat
lips locked in purse
gallery gas
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LLOYD’S OF LONDON HAS INSURED
THE 900 YEAR OLD NUT SAC
OF FABLED FIRST MAN
ADAM OF ADAM & EVE
AN ODD LEATHERED HOURGLASS
INCESTUOUSLY CLOSED-MINDED
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the tunnel connects us to them
– the news is immediate and the numbers of death
the dead
– I see soldiers on the street
people on the 6th floor look down at the carnage – I listen to the band –
– rolling news scrolls against pictures of police cars and a state of emergency –
– there are no facts
just news that the borders are closing in
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every three minutes the NEWS gives us a new death number
——————————————————————————–
few if any understand the aesthetic standards
preoccupied—divided needs
artistic/existential
*God tells me to pray for people in prison
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she left the beginnings where they belonged,
a love song gone wrong
rambled on
– no idea where to stop
the curves the lines on a graph the straight edge of the horizon
train tracks that pierce the heartland
we go on for miles
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——————-SHE——————————-
may have left things where they belonged
BUT I saw the paper from the doctor
“psychological cripple”
avoid decisive action
avoid suicide
just as the birds outside
are imprisoned
the men at the grocery
with their paper bags
——————-
——————-
ancestral obligations
how many times have you been told ?
listen not and be beset
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are clocks without hands still clocks ?
are clocks free to do as they please ?
the current of time
artificial ?
people run around in water
even full-scale immersion
but nothing can atone
yes, nothing can atone
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AND SOMEHOW YOU
WERE ABOVE OUR EARTHLY HOME
SO TO SPEAK
BEAUTIFUL
AND TERRIFYING
TO BE INSIDE
——————-
——————-
——————-
ATTACHED TO HER BODY
YOU WERE A SWIMMER
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LIFE AT THE EXPENSE OF OTHERS
unlicensed mathematicians
isolated men actualizing
wacky daddy—wacky childhood
near-perfect automobiles
no where to go
the roadways
paved with sin
*the roadways paved in pain
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sufficient mastery
over God and mankind
come back as a boy !!!
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HE DIED IN THE CIVIL WAR
HE DIED IN THE WORLD WAR
subject to the influence of history
PRYING THE HANDS OFF THE CLOCK
the beat was inside his chest
THE POET WITH HIS PLASTIC PROPS
EYES WATCHING EXTERNAL BEHAVIOR
STORE-BOUGHT PETER PILLS
IN HIS POCKET
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through sheer cleverness
no need to drown the skeleton
survival 1000 times
the asking wages
paid in full
fiasco detectives
off the clock
sidewalks
for misunderstanding
through sheer cleverness
caverns and grottoes
refuge for the club
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multiple descriptions of what she looked like – none of them the same –
seen from different angles and a certain light
– the detective photofit didn’t do her justice
– men at the grocery store confused by choice, overwhelmed by the volume of mayonnaise available
they walk into the sunlight empty handed
metaphors everywhere
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time has evolved
digital clocks have no hands
there were no clocks on the ark
– time was immaterial and measured by the tide –
most of the animals didn’t have hands but they were not time
back on land we walk around carrying the weight of guilt
regret and embarrassment
nothing can reverse
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unlicensed number men selling lies
Orwellian numbers thrown into the equation – things don’t add up
people become unbalanced
– can no longer drive their cars –
left right confusion
stick shift gear crunch
spinning off roads, swerved to miss the sin
six foot deep in the hole
*how far down do you have to be before you try to climb out?
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Chinese policy of one boy per house – EXCPET NO SUBSTITUTE – daughters dumped in firsts
flushed down toilets
sold on eBay
– girl child with glued on rubber penis
*you can always win the lottery
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go to the grocery store and stare at the variety
of mayonnaise on the shelves
glass jars/plastic bottles from around the world
here in Florida, mayonnaise has a thick skin
like old paint
one peels back the skin
scoops out a glob
———————-
in a surreal moment
the sight of blood dripping
into a jar of mayonnaise
the contrast of the red and white
AN ACT OF REPRODUCTION
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THERE ARE NO DIGITAL CLOCKS IN FLORIDA
ALL CLOCKS REQUIRE HANDS
WITHOUT THE BURDEN OF FLESH
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WAX FORESKINS DURING THE WAR
CONSTRUCTED AND MAINTAINED
BY HETEROSEXUALS
POETRY AVAILABLE
VICARIOUS
UNREQUITED
the day you could afford a surrogate
you paid a fine chap to perform “Johnny Boy”
HE WAS A MAINSTREAM JOHNNY BOY
———the masquerades of Johnny Boy
in the background a song plays
“wonder who’s kissing him now”
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the visual impact that the Chinese together make
countless dongs waving in the wind
husbands and lovers
male intermediaries
male onlookers
by-products
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what a laugh—digital clocks in Florida
atomic bombs or lesbian insinuations
poets represented—not replaced
conversational poetry
an exchange of
intimate information
heterosexual marriage
like a mat at the front door
approximated anticipation
HELLO HELLO HELLO
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WORDS CONFIRM THE AUDIENCE’S PERCEPTIONS
Johnny Boy floating up above as if anonymous
free of domesticity—the suitcase woman
ambivalent interpretations
nonman and nonwoman
HERMAPHRODITES
in ancient times it was the plumbing
today, it is so much more
assignments—accidental
superficial
anatomical exceptions
anatomical ambiguities
(not from itself but from the other)
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automobiles from the Middle Ages
the intensity of their pleasures
the multiple entry points
the chrome tailpipes
defined not from parts
rather from Holy Grace
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when considering secondary sex characteristics
in the mayonnaise aisle at the grocery
the hermaphroditism in each of us
screams for determined identity
“I CAN BE NO OTHER”
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PSYCHOLINGUISTIC BLACK LEMONADE
flarf and its lukewarm reception
words that disrupt ideas
words that disrupt thoughts
messianic words on the sidewalk
groups of letters that bear witness
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the Great Wall is just a metal projection
the collective power of a billion brains
– females in the factories
husbands with their lovers
– ritualistic penises carved smooth from ancient tress
the dreams of the spurned concubine
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digital clocks of straight lines – straight lines depict 0 – a square circle – truly the future
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SHERLOCK HOLMES HAD A SQUARE CIRCLE
AND THAT WAS BACK IN THE DAY
WHEN MEN SMOKED PIPES
AND STRUGGLED AGAINST APARTHEID
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ROMANTIC LOVE
AND RAINCOATS
AND DIGITAL CLOCKS
ALL IN A ROW
THE DIVIDED HOUSE
MISUNDERSTANDINGS
MALE VOICES KEPT OUTDOORS
RELATIONSHIP ANXIETY
FRAGILE AND ABUSED
THE MAN OUTSIDE
MARRIAGE BARGAIN
EXPIRED
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square circle through its geography
sex trade caught midsentence
the marriage bargain turned dirty
the placing of pleasures
satisfaction described
from a book
*continuous butter
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THE GREAT WALL OF THE MARRIAGE BED
CRUMBS AND JISM ON ONE SIDE
MEASURED DISTANCES FROM THE WIFE
ECONOMICAL SEXUAL WEAPONS
FOUL DOMESTIC TASKS
PILLS CAREFULLY STORED IN A JAR
INDEPENDENCE WITHOUT DEPENDENCY
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Johnny Boy ballon empty and floating up
tethered by wire
the suitcase woman drags it around like a legless dog –
reassignment plumbers are found on line –
– you get what you pay for
a penis under the arm
vagina behind the knee
– alway keep the receipt
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middle age pleasure was dirty and diseased –
– spinning wheels
pleasure principle heightened when life span is shortened
there is a n equation that supports this
written inside a mountain
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the constant internal screams
yelps
whines
moans
primal
– some people have what they don’t want
others want what they don’t have* –
a place to meet and exchange parts & things
sketch pads full of moreauvian nighmares, anatomical odd
a bit here
a bit there
things just for show with no purpose
*some have both and are never sad
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men struggled against crippling addictions and feelings that dare not rear their head –
– inquisitive man in funny ha
back in the day when the leg of a table could cause weak knees in the strongest of men
men with moustaches and forthright ideas
men of history*
*all is past
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Inside the marriage
outside the house held up with matches
a bucketful of bad ideas
from a distance the houses like row of teeth – in the future children will know clocks as phones –
we are walking dinosaurs, men with watches, handkerchiefs, the pen –
future kids will not recognise these relics
dinosaurs now
waiting for extinction
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pre-nuptial flarf
something to be redeemed when it all goes south
all turns sour
nothing stays the same
she will change
find joy in the dark corners
destined over and recorded
will they read this in 50years when the computer is dug up by robots ?
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TEN YEARS OF READING PROVOCATIVE FILTH
A SOLID FOUNDATION IS LAID
ROMANCE AND MARRIAGE
——HONEYMOON——
to have foreseen the course of development
this would take
ventriloquism
and the hand
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done a bit of amateur theatricals
always thinking
one could probably do better
not alone in the club
THE TWAT CONSPIRED AGAINST ME
at night the mind digging holes in analysis
to write poetry of the image
to write poetry about the image
threads of meaning
reality becomes a fiction in itself
heavy isolation
sleep separations
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I climbed on the filth,
all of it,
foot in front of foot
left
right
I climbed the pile of filth
a tower that wouldn’t fall
– the Venn diagram of marriage
him
her
filth
honeymoon x10
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grainy black-and-white photos
of me and Sherlock Holmes
so privileged to be placed in his life
images that serve as references
poetry about textualities
INTERLOCKING QUESTIONS
Sherlock with his essential core
inner vision
spontaneity
*in a mystical, transcendental sense
HE WAS TRANSPARENT
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all ghosts are transparent
until proven they don’t exist
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I always questioned your use of actresses
women who contributed their voices and images
sisters in the struggle of matrimony
sex is something outgrown
SEX BECOMES UNPROBLEMATIC
SEX BECOMES UNFRAGMENTED
time seeps cohesiveness
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do you think mayonnaise from San Francisco
tastes like unwashed men ?
——truth teller——
a place on the map
is also a place in history
walking down the mayonnaise aisle
a series of choices
heavily accented gender
anatomical destiny
mayonnaise produced
*fears: dispersal, displacement, dismemberment
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only in underdeveloped countries
does one get what they pay for
in America words are interrupted chaos
what lies behind silence ?
less confrontational poetry please
articulating self on a cliff
moustache on the edge
“handsome brother, don’t jump”
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all this talk of FILTH
and you still watch
the video
of me grooming my moustache
possibly the staging and sequencing ?
you and I in our Easter finery
our childhood moments of domestic delight
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THE POTENTIALLY DESTRUCTIVE NATURE
OF MULTIPLE INTERROGATIONS
to dismantle the image of Sherlock Holmes
FICTIVE CONSTRUCTS ?
GHOSTS ?
THE ARTIFICIALITY OF EVIDENCE
PIVOTAL AND SELF-CONSCIOUSLY DRAMATIC
NOT AUDIBLE
NOT VISIBLE
YET—-THE MOUSTACHE IS REAL
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I went to San Francisco and my wife lost her sun glasses
– all scratched lenses that would ruin any view
– steep hills in Tenderloin
– unwashed me followed me for a light –
history is a map of something that has already happened –
– maps of the future only exist in their minds –
two many choices
far two many choices
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in America words get confused
– they drop through the gaps
amongst a million forgotten passports –
confrontational poetry vs words
– draw a line and choose sides –
articulating words gathered from the word shop
I sell cutlery online
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HISTORY IS A MAP THAT NO ONE LOOKS AT
MIDDLE-CLASS ANGLO HISTORY CLASS
TEACHES BLACK CHILDREN
ABOUT THE RESIDUAL SCARS
LEFT OVER FROM
THE CIVIL WAR
clearly different contexts
TAKING THE WIFE TO SAN FRANCISCO
1,000,000 QUESTIONS
STARTING WITH “WHY”
POSSIBLY TO JUMP OFF THE BRIDGE
TO BE TOSSED OFF THE BRIDGE
TO SHOP FOR AMERICAN MAYONNAISE
a substance squeezed from disempowered men
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little do you know
I’ve purchased almost all
of the cutlery
that you have sold online
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no poets in America with full sets of teeth
pedigree dogs one carries to purchase mayonnaise
risky behavior being taught at public schools
Olivia Newton John has been taken down
all husbands neutered—24 hour flaccid
plethora of female scents
the tobacco smell on bearded ladies
childless and single and working at a circus
explosive diarrhea on stage
doctors frown
Quentin Tarantino frowns
downward trajectory not on the wall
“point the loaded rectum at your sister”
8 years of college and one makes poop in public
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committing a felonious act of diarrhea
a felonious act of diarrhea on stage
money squandered through the day
rectum spitting on stage nightly
repeat offenders welcome
*phony photo on ID okay
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the life story of GG Allin
– on stage and covered in shit
photographs
black white and brown
follow the spots of blood to the dressing room –
if it’s an acquired taste
do you want to acquire it?
phoney ID had me down as a 57 year old Asian doctor
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maybe he was an unclean spirit
——————————————
I come from a home with empty cupboards
where the floor is swept
and swept again
no flaming swords
or tins full
of Jesus
parables
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nostalgic flashbacks to Switzerland
sowing-reaping-threshing-sodomy
sea chanties with the fellows
sometimes slow
sometimes fast
always a tad rough
———————–
———————–
prison road gangs get horny too
little concern for clean privies
push the man-sledge to the side
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UP ALL NIGHT DISMANTLING EXAGGERATED
SENTIMENTALITY
IN POETRY
ABOUT MEN WHO TAKE PEDIGREE DOGS
TO GROCERY STORES
TO PURCHASE MAYONNAISE
—————–ORAL FOLK TRADITION
—————–WRITTEN
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LIFE WITH COMPLETE STOPS
DEATH WITH COMPLETE STOPS
HUMOR AND PATHOS AND DENIAL
EACH EVENING AT SUPPER TIME
IT WAS BLUES-SPIRITUALS-WORK SONGS
FANCY SPOONS AND FORKS FROM ENGLAND
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NEGATIVE NUMBING OF DESIRE
THAT WOMAN DONE SAID
HER WEIGHT
10 TIMES OVER
TOLD TO TAKE
TO HER ROCKIN’ CHAIR
AND SHUT THAT TEETH TRAP
TOLD TO CLOSE
THOSE BLACK SNAKES
REAL TIGHT
AND BREATHE
THROUGH HER NOSE
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WHITE BOYS CARRYING WHITE DOGS
TO THE WHITE GROCERY STORE
TO
PURCHASE
WHITE SANDWICH SPREAD
it didn’t take no special skills
to smell the sexual misconduct
on their breath
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they been holed up in that tiny apartment
making like it was the honeymoon suite
two bull elephants with swollen balls
putting down some vigorous poetry
pseudofolk meat slapping
rhythmic ecstasy
*everyone in the neighborhood wanted to join in with the chant
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operant formal influence
the sound of pain
bare feet on broken glass
the weight of guilt
————————
————————
—-multiplemichael—-
he say that it be “the family kiss”
————————
————————
repeated physical action
just slip it in
and let the seed run
sexual craftsmanship
*baby be blond
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the relationship between writer and reader
a participatory relationship
—borrow a dog and purchase mayonnaise
—pee outdoors in full view
—write about poetic fountainheads
—expose your barbarous scars
—spend a season in Hell
—sodomize an invisible man
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anatomically correct skiers
Swiss slopes hi-jinks
sun burn st high altitudes
sailors 1256 nautical miles east of here
– wooden cabins hidden in snow drifts – enough food to last a week
enough lube to last a years
sledge to the horizon
over the apex
Downhill after
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it’s the fear that gives it away,
no the misconduct of their thought,
the written testimony they’ve locked away,
the hidden key & notes in their files –
– white bread with no crusts
hold the mayonnaise it’s had red in it –
– crumbs between white dog paw
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we reach the end of the alphabet
————————————–well booted in space
————————————–the mayo had red in it
we reach the end of the alphabet
poetry with polished surfaces
mad scientists slick
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at the end of the alphabet we hit the wall
fall off the edge
delete our Facebook accounts
black out our faces on Instagram
astronauts with draw powdered mayonnaise
never tasted the same in the company of men
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the reader is involved with the words
let them create new worlds
– sell your ideas
– a winter coat
– too much news
– barbarous scars badges shown at the entrance to hell
brains in jars and bodies frozen waiting for the cure
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XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
———————————————————
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
———————————————————
POETRY ABOUT EATING MAYONNAISE
IN THE COMPANY OF MEN
SOMEHOW MORALLY WORSE
THE BITE PHYSICALLY STRONGER
I SWEAR I COULD TASTE
PRONOUNCED “INSTINCTS”
—————————————–
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
—————————————–
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
—————————————-
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ONE CAN ONLY THINK BACK
AND PONDER
ABOUT THE TUB
OF MAYONNAISE
PACKED IN WITH
THE DAILY
SCHOOL LUNCH
*Greek men from the Deli ?
*is it true that mayonnaise causes excess body hair ?
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CROSS-THE-FORBIDDEN-LINE
——————————————–
YOU’RE AT A FRIEND’S HOUSE
DRINKING BEERS
AND HE OFFERS
YOU A SPOON OF MAYONNAISE
——————————————–
as you stare at the spoon
you see some on his hand
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sinister scientists create
various scents for mayonnaise
smells that might dissolve the bonds
holding spirit and flesh together
fruity mayonnaise
may make one even
more seriously depraved
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PUTTING DOWN SOME VIGOROUS POETRY
PSEUDOFOLK MEAT SLAPPING
A FAT SNAKE FROM KENTUCKY
TWINING LOVINGLY
AROUND YOUR LEG
FOR GOOD
OR FOR BAD
THE WHITE STUFF
WILL SOON ARRIVE
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AND THIS WAS BY NO MEANS AN ADVENTURE FREE FROM EXCITEMENT
DARK DESIRES THAT JOURNEYED SOUTH
BREECHES WITH FURRY SEAMS
THE TALKING HORSE NEVER SPEAKS
IT JUST SPITS OUT WHITE FOAM
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IMAGING ASTRONAUTS
AND POWDERED MAYONNAISE
MAD SCIENTISTS
OUTSIDE THE BUILDING
SMOKING CIGARETTES
DESCENDANTS FROM NOAH’S ARK
LEAVING BREADCRUMBS
BUT GENERATIVE PARTS COVERED
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——HOMEMADE JAGGER MAYONNAISE——
COCOONS SOAKED IN IT
MULTICOLORED DRAPERIES
CIRCUS TROUSER MATERIAL
——————————————
IMPOLITE TO MENTION OPENLY
THE BONELESS APPENDAGE
OF MAN AND BOY
————————-
MOUTHS SHRINK
AND POETS
GROW
SILENT
———
*private thoughts about catching the nut sac
on a strand of barbed-wire
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HOMO SAPIEN MAYONNAISE
believe-it-or-not
perform-it-or-not
MAYONNAISE BASED ON RELIGION
ESSENTIALLY ALLEGORICAL OR DECORATIVE
just think—what if Sherlock Holmes had parents ?
love made in cellars and attics
sodomy with monsters
unpleasantness
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caught in the web
tied up in knots
half hitch, hangmans noose, round the tree and down the hole –
styrofoam stomach and moonshine
– bombs used to fall from the sky but now they walk into McDonalds and crowded hotels –
humans are the only species that can kill at a distance –
– a futile journey to here
pictures of food and snapchat
blackstar Bowie returns
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a thousand fingers point at the stains and a thousand voices blame mayonnaise
-the stains
– the lunch box trauma
– Greek men at the deli the hairs in the sandwhich,
cheap floss for the man with the bad teeth
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mayonnaise used as cheap glue to hold down the toupee –
– seen from above
bird poo exited in the air
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designed in darkened rooms – failed experiments burned out of existence – just the memory left
and the taste
not of this realm
– spirit and flesh held together by invisible force –
–
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serious attempts to capture everything in words,
volumes of words scribbled
scratched
, a thousand descriptions for the simplest of things,
the black lemonade hawker sold his wares here and there
the whole town was waiting for the delivery
white like Christmas
good and bad
Bowie sheds his skin like the snake
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rim roamers from rock and roll
RIM ROVERS FROM ROCK AND ROLL
map-making masturbation
tidied up sex—gentrified the rough stuff
women with imaginary places
poor little David Bowie
like a gay Elephant Man
singing about the day
Jesus died
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arrow-covered maps
you cut off a limb
and followed the chap
back to his village
unseen string-pullers
deciphering
language barriers
potentially mappable—Johnny Boy
———————————————-
a map that changed bread and wine
into flesh and blood
—do you think he was scantily clothed ?
no Mennonites or Amish at the Sweet 16 party
smart people were afraid of the four “E” words
enslavement, exile, exclusion, execution
—————————————————–
I told the doctor that I felt claustrophobic
that I enjoyed smelling mayonnaise
genitalia through a peephole
no prohibitions except those founded
by silly old women
or church whores
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——arrow-covered maps——
a red trail back to the village
covered in a plague
suffer Homo sapiens
sorry about the lack of interest in you
no heaven—no way
KISS YOUR NUTRIMENT ORIFICE GOODBYE
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THE READER RATHER THAN THE WRITER
get it correct—annihilating flood
very few survivors
for some strange reason
they brought NATURE
mental illness
ugliness
aging
diseases
hunger for meat
stretchers
pickpockets
pimps
doped-up mayonnaise
institutional life
blackstars
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poor little David Bowie
like a gay Elephant Man
excruciating
in public
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breadcrumb trails lead to the mirror where she has no reflection
– smoking scientist prepare apparatus
once dormant in the cargo bay –
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DNA tests on the mayo
traces found
abandoned warehouse
smashed windows boarded up doors
the Curie house writ large
– at the stones show, tshirts, , toupees, Jaggernaise
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THREE WORD POEM OF THE WEEK:
—————————————————–
TEE SHIRTS
TOUPEES
JAGGERNAISE
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all fanatics have beards
– regardless
– sherlocks family tree spreads 3984ft underground, through tube stations and bunkers
love during wartime
rationed ejaculations fill the mayo jar
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SADISTIC DOCTORS WITH CARNIVAL MIRRORS
PILL BY PILL—MEAL BY MEAL
EXCRUCIATING ELEVATOR MUSIC
INSTITUTIONAL LIFE
the end of the race is often regrettable
callous treatment from family and friends
——————————————————
——————————————————
I spent the day listening to “BLACKSTAR”
on my Dick Tracy two-way wristwatch radio
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Bowie has many faces
Joan Bowie beside the crib
rocking it slowly
– transgression into others
– a happy limb
– edges smoothed out then exploded
– behind the knee
spaceship bowie orbiting black holes
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pills sold in vending machines in school corridors,
McDonald wash rooms
– turn full for maximum vend turn full for maximum vend – turn full for maximum vend –
Blackstar future elevator music for another world
*i heard it yesterday
the wife laughed at another reinvention – she used the word PARODY
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DAVID BOWIE DOING HORMONE SHOTS
PREPARING FOR BREASTFEEDING
HAVING NEVER GIVEN UP ON “CHILDBIRTH”
SANCTIMONIOUS
PREACHY
3 MAKESHIFT SCARECROWS
RELIGIOUS PROJECTIONS
MORAL RATHER THAN LITERARY
*blackstar bibles for motels
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multi headed babies &
scarecrows stationed at strategic points of the periphery
– breastfeeding in secret –
(Don’t tell me when you hear “breastfeeding” you don’t picture people feeding on plates of breasts
cutlery in hand)
– secrets hidden in hotels and motels
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poor little David Bowie—the gay Elephant Man
constantly overshadowed by the Jagger Cockstar
termitelike creatures from his damaged ears
“winking out”
mummified body
undiscovered parts
a sucking fish mouth
prepared to make child
Darwinian fodder stuffed womb
thresholds… earth-mother Bowie
biblical role—birth from dust
descendant of “SHE”
need more be said
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the big pill thrill here in Florida
Mary Shelley Pills
older women take up to 20 a day
painkillers
they fail to kill the pain
slightly pre-corpse
slightly Margaret Mead
scantier tops
scantier bottoms
Kentucky style
—————————-if men take them
—————————-weak dick
—————————-scorned by lesser males
—————————-mistreated and mistrusted by women
—————————-black market anthropologists
—————————-become an androgyne
SEX WRESTLING WITH ATTRACTIVE “SCOUTS”
BREEDING MALES IN TRUNKS
CRIPPLES IN THE AUDIENCE
ANGELS WITH BASKETBALL BREASTS
GENITALIA HAVING GIVEN BIRTH
LIKE SOMEWHERE ONE COULD PARK A TRUCK
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JESUS LAUGHED ABOUT THE BROTHER SISTER THING LIKE ONE MUST BE ON THAT OLD BUCKET THE ARK
BABIES BORN FROM DANCING FOREIGN MAYONNAISE METAPHORS MOTIVES PLOTS GENITALIA OLIVER TWIST BREADCRUMBS MINIATURIZED MEAT MACHINES MICROCHIPS IMPLANTED IN EVERYTHING BAPTIZED MICROCHIPS ARTIFICIAL ORGASMS WATCHING FROM THE BACKS OF OUR HEADS ORIFICES LEAKING
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slogan-chanting poets
pretence is no longer necessary
forbidden thoughts
about the adolescent Jesus
————————————–
————————————–
sexless automatons
protagonists on public transit
popping another pill
some people cut
some people sew
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so many pills she sounds like a maraca when she walks down the street –
rattle rattle rattle
– pills for all kinds of alignments
weight loss
erectile dysfunction
laser eyes
internal rot
diseased loins
side effects two many to mention , the Elvis shakes
bodies in trunks
float to the surface
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priests hired to baptise micro-chips before they leave the factory
–
holy water sprayed from water pistols – cuts back on overheads and headcount
– microchipped meat
you are a small blip on a map
on a map on a screen
on a screen in a room that doesn’t exist – a small blip flashing
–
a liver made in a factor
a wooden lung
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millions of years of evolutionary pessimism
locked up in that micro-chip
the angels and animals have gone to sleep
they no longer can slide back
—-it is true
the Harlequin Romances are destroyed
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FROM TIME TO TIME A SULPHUROUS SCENT
—————————————————————–
on the map of the Old Testament
God had no wife
semi-biblical products purchased at Costco
many be imitations
————————-
my attendants are high
prowling on Sunday night
I called out to the Lord
“new woman on board”
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SWITZERLAND EXPELLED FOREIGNERS
AND NO ONE SAID A THING
THE AGENTS WHO KNOCKED ON THE DOOR
THEY COULDN’T TOUCH A THING
my psychoanalysis was complete
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the hand of death readies itself
the sound of babies grown in bottles
automation in everyday life
great difficulty being able to identify the enemy
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HOW DID LIL WAYNE BECOME SO RICH ?
he picked people green
and sold them as ripe
stole million dollar books from the library
psychoanalysis
(Linoleum not Lincoln)
stomach-churning broken glass pie
crash-landing a flying saucer
till-death-do-us-part monogamy
kissing girls and making them cry
kissing boys only if they’re gay
secretions other than milk
mass consumerism
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SWITZERLAND EXPELLED FOREIGNERS
AND NO ONE SAID A THING
the things purchased with pain
I was willing to pay more
“I WAS WILLING TO PAY MORE”
*dollops of mayonnaise
I pay the price
drugs and double-sided abilities
outside the sight and sound of anguish
SCIENTISTS EVERYWHERE
I WAVE AT THEM
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JUST HAVING A LITTLE CRY
WITH EMILY DICKINSON
HER NAKED MONOLOGUE
A DRAMATIC MONOLOGUE
PRIVATE AND PARTICIPATORY
NEVER ALONE IN THIS WORLD
IRRITABLE REACHING FOR REALITY
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INROADS OF POETRY
EMILY DICKINSON WITH HARNESS
CRAZY PRIMITIVE UNDERWEAR
MY LITTLE GIRL MY SWEET LOVE
UNIDENTIFIED NARRATOR
BUT I’M HOLDING YOUR HAND
I AM NOT ANONYMOUS
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upside down children
rolling balls of dung
wedded to hunger
abbreviated names
oracular language
pooping outdoors
growing pagan hair
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HOW TO SAY FAREWELL
A FINAL PLEASURE
CHAMELEONS ON THE CHEST
ASKING GOD FOR POCKET CHANGE
SELF-ADMINISTERED DEBT
COAGULATING IN FRONT OF THE CHURCH
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IN THE BASEMENT OF HELL
SATAN MAILS ME POSTCARDS
OF HIMSELF
HIS BODY
PUSHED OFF
*he loves my blood trauma
I AM A TRUE MICHAEL
MY DNA IS A PATTERN UNBROKEN
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TOOK A DUMP IN THE MORGUE
the smile of accomplishment
RECOGNITION AFTER DEATH
“IT IS ME ALL EERIE”
THE TWINNINGS OF PAIN AND PILLS
UNFOLDING BEFORE THE FUNERAL
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——TO RELEASE ITSELF INSIDE US——
INDIFFERENCE EXPRESSED MANY WAYS
IT WAS ME HOLDING YOUR HAND
MANY THINGS BUT NEVER ANONYMOUS
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IT WAS MY WHITE SERPENT
SELLING THE ROCKS TO BE THROWN
I AM PRE-CHRISTIAN
IT MAKES RELIGIOUS PEOPLE CRAZED
I LAUGH ABOUT THE REVERSAL OF BIRTH
TO BE REBORN IN A BETTER PLACE
NO LONGER AN EARLY DRAFT
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MARY SHELLEY AND I THROWING ROCKS
AT ROBERT FROST—A DUCKSQUIRT POET
RECIPIENTS WITH CLOSED DOORS
BABY AND I AT THE BLANKER
HIGH COME TO A FULL STOP
WE DONE GONE SCRAWNEY
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NO ONE MADE YOU PAINT THE NAILS ON CORPSES
RIBBONS OF INCOME ROLLED AWAY
SELF-CONSUMING LIKE GUILT GLOVES
ODD PLEASURE IN GUILT
WRONGDOING RECOGNITION
BRUISED WORDS
VOICING THEMSELVES
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the confines of being a ringleader
claustrophobic about consuming meat
they drop quickly over the flesh
the boundary in sight
the river goes both ways
Lord with a borderline
his children smothered
folded articulation
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limbless but ready to regrow
to explode
from the cocoon
leaving a shadow and remains –
– a popular phenomena – modern man and his mayonnaise
some like it when it’s goes yellow and hard round the edges
– others like the sound when it’s dropped from a great height onto a plastic surface
– others just like to roll the word mayonnaise around their mouths
church whores sell their wares behind the scenes at the local church fete
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maps coloured in, places
where I’ve been
other maps show stolen land, places of war,
cemeteries marked with crosses
– plague cities black ringed
– places of pogroms shown by pins –
arrows indicate migrationary trails – outward from Africa monkey man to homosapien
the evolution of the thumb
blind fishes
*the first restaurant sold primordial soup,
Precambrian forests
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blackstar was the code name for the rocket they would fill with animals and humans and DNA and plant life and cutlery and computers,
a rocket that would be fired away from Earth in times of apocalypse-
a modern day metal ark –
no room for pickpockets
pimps
perpetrators
paedophiles
panhandlers
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wilting in public under the light
under the constant gaze
playing peek-a-boo with the audience
‘now you see me
now you don’t”
– a hansel and gretel trail of faces and personas litter his history
– smarted make up on the outside of the fuselage
floating in a tin can
sponsored by Coke a Cola
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the expelled dug through the mountain
all said they say islands in clouds
animal shadows cast by tress
agents slept in pairs
shared pencils and wife’s
– back stories stolen from doctors files
–
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the enemy is just a word
a concept
abstract
when the rules don’t apply people go apeshit
– new saviours are sought; apply online –
vote for your winner online (lines close at 9pm) –
difficult these days to identify yourself in a line up
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powdered milk sold of as drugs
– factory grown cows with duplicate udders
– lil Wayne is an amalgam of 12 bad things
like to kiss the girls
lips like big sofas
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reality out of reach
like a boat seen by a castaway
stretching arms will never reach
– heavy reliance on imagination
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inroads and transgressions
sweet memories of Emily
the narrator is just a voice
disembodied
and floating
unidentified but you can picture a face
(composite face of actors in the last three films you saw)
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biblical names handed out at the hospital
“Take this name or pick from the official list”
– in a month a 1000 kids called Jonah
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farewell said in morse code
the loud noise of the machine
deafens young ears
the white noise
– some times i wake up and feel like an elephant is sitting on my chest
i administer myself daily
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the janitor in hells job is never done
mop and bucket
unsent postcards
blank of words
*the therapist read incorrectly is the rapist
the weakness of words
twisted like a heater skelter
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a dead dump defiles
no recognition of death or life
jump between the two
a white line on the highway
gravediggers hate the cold
broken backs
bend shovels
– the mourners stand in a cold line
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haunting fields with night falling
endless reasons to face the darkness
a darkness that seems to change size
loneliness in itself is without measure
relinquishing and losing
overtaken
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with the constant internal monologue, low white hum
are we ever alone?
– emotion changes its size shape and colour
black blanketed from the stars down
not overtaken
just keeping up
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———————–she——————————–
all those poems that started “just keeping up”
the reader exists somewhere
a punishing place
she said that others were reading
her naked
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ONLY ON TELEVISION
DO THE SHOVELS BEND
GRAVES OF DREAD
HUMAN HIGHWAYS
RUN SOUTH
THEY CALL ME FOUR-PILL MIKE
BUT I’M REALLY UP TO FIVE
*the fell of desolation
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taught to answer to the name, JONAH
but never how to face despair
open the front door and Jonah
comes home like an escaped pet
a solitary struggle
when asked to quote a Johnny Boy poem
he mouths the words
written on a toilet stall
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—reality out of reach
a cloud of poetic silence ?
a lover who has strayed
memories covered with a blanket of silence
her big ear pressed against you
she is not only hearing
she is overhearing
—————————————————-
—————————————————-
solitary cries from the castaway
by widening the panorama
one spots the boat
stretching your arms
as if you are rich
beyond suffering
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I would never trust a scientist that didn’t smoke
————————————————————-
in my small hometown, Jesuit priests
used spoons to escape Switzerland
We had no guns to shoot the bastards
*hammers, knives, and rat poison
——————————————–
——————————————–
drawing conclusions
enclosed spaces
seeming undefended
small humans
people in church
determined to grieve
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WOUNDED BY MEMORY
CONSTANTLY
COMING DOWN TO ACCOMMODATE
GRIEF-STRICKEN RELATIVES
ON HOLIDAY WITH FUNERALS
NEWS OF THE FALLEN CREATURES
UNDERCUTTING IN HEAVEN
*YES, undercutting in heaven
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no breadcrumbs in modern poetry
multilevel truth
truth borrowed from truth
paths in poetry
a leaky cistern
BABYLONIANS
with traces of mud
a soiled caress
a deepening interiority
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only on TV do the dead walk
lights are left on
parking spaces are found
– the mourners are glamorous
they will bury the dead vertically
feet first into the soil
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most of my philosophy was stolen from toilet walls
circa 1964
Jonah and his water wings
Michaels consuming his pills and posting poems through his neighbours doors
– observational poetry about neighbours and their habits –
like skin
close to the bone
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I would never trust a bald hairdresser
hands slick with pomade
– in my hometown you’re never more than 7ft from a rat –
hammers used,
but not for the right purpose –
misuse of metaphors weakens the structure
I saw her literally drawing her conclusion, sharp pen
not a knife in sight
got 11 more followers from the hinterland
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faceless relatives
just names on a Christmas card, no news until death,
the odd postcard –
grief stricken constantly
– no change for a dollar?
**holiday season
like being stuck in a submarine
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holy men emerging from sand*
multilayered truth
layers blur horizon sea to cloud –
I know the leaky cistern – Chinese water-torture, names in a book, night time disappearances
– Babylonians hid clay tablets in the sand & mud –
*stolen from Hittite Man
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some refreshment—triggers
complete receptivity
at the center of it all
quiet consonants
recurring themes
the very best
we cannot understand
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THE BABYLONIANS WERE NOT HIDING
CLAY TABLETS IN SAND AND MUD
THEY WERE ERASING THEM
*the repetitions became musical
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just having a little nap with the jungle girl
She came into town
my man was there with open hand
funny what people will sell for cash money
She is my favorite trigger
all soft all white—above all soil
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POETS UPSET THAT I TOOK EMILY DICKINSON
TO NIAGARA FALLS
POETS UPSET THAT I TOOK EMILY DICKINSON
TO THE GRAND CANYON
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dwell in mysteries-uncertainties
hold her feet above her head
all goofy with Emily Dickinson
all day signals
she says a word
and we both scramble
poetry from outer space
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poetry written on the Florida Interstate (the real one)
atomic and molecular…really atomic
the needles went wild
at the weigh station
large limbed men
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——————observational poetry
countless homes with no books
elemental fire and ash
Easter morning for migratory distance
Easter morning for the younger brother
what kind of flapdoodle doesn’t own a book ?
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I couldn’t talk you into going to see the funeral train bearing Lincoln’s coffin
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I KNOW ABOUT YOUR SELF-INTERROGATION AT WORK
THE ELEMENT OF SECRECY AND SECOND THOUGHTS
PRIVATE–INTIMATE MATTERS
MEMORIES OF THE SUBMARINE
YOUR WIFE MAKING SENTENCES
WITH THE WORD “PARODY”
YOUR RELIGION AGAINST REVISION
NO REREADING
NO RETHINKING
NO REWRITING
THE TRAIN GOES
FROM POINT A
TO POINT B
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DELIRIUM AND LUCIDITY
TO WAKE UP
AND FIND ONESELF
AN IMAGINATIVE ACT OF ATTENTION
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—————-the graveyard had no dead bodies—–
ASSOCIATIONAL MEMORIES
PAST HISTORIES (OLD-YOUNG-TRUE-FALSE)
VOCABULARIES
to hike beyond death takes a suspension of disbelief
to do what we do—knowing full well we’re being watched
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unembarrassed about the accidents
exchanges between poet and reader
participations in devil things
putting the small child on the hook
hoping to catch the big one
that got away
sympathetic relatives
when it was you on the hook
you were so indestructible
that young repertoire and proud length
warm lips in the shade warm tongue late at night
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YOU TRIED TO TALK LOVE WITH RUPTURED GRAMMAR
COVERED IN THE DUST OF THE PAST
DESPERATE—A DROWNING MAN
A LIFELONG DECIPHER
COMMUNAL PUBLIC TRANSIT
DIRGELIKE MOVEMENT
CATTLE TURN OUT TO BE SHOPPING CARTS
MOTHERS TOSS UNWANTED CHILDREN
THEY OPEN UP SLOTS OF PERSONAL TIME
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words erased at a time when I’ve run out of them
– paying top dollar for words no longer than 7 letters long –
I saw her through a fish eye
– all concave (or was she convex?)
–
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people will sell anything for money – just look online
you can buy hair
people
livers
patents for self erecting homes
– people will buy money for money
they say the dark net is bigger than the known universe &
I remember when the whole internet was just fields
Internet as an open hand, warm shakes, clenched fist,
back handed slap
what goes on above the soil is life
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flashbacks to date night
I took her to the races
a stroll along the promenade
a stop off for tea and cake
How quaint!
had her back by nightfall
a gentleman and a scholar
her father looked me up
checked my background
a wise move
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poetry from the ether
dripping from the firmament
– Emily was just a muse
a name with words
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is there a fake interstate? one that doesn’t exist in books
and travelogues?
– a just a long gray straight road that runs under you like an unspooling cassette tape –
small incremental changes in the dial, mixed readings
mixed feelings
can you feel your hair grow?
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no books needed with this stream of consciousness
as long as there are thoughts
it will go on and people have stopped reading books
– they own computers
they read computers
Easter morning tooth ache all year round
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I couldn’t talk you into going to see the procession for Winston Churchill – you were to busy re-wiring plugs
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self integration at work
survival technique just to get by – the photocopier hum,
shit tea,
warm paper,
chewed pens,
filling cabinets contains files no one reads,
air condition blowing hot and cold, I am a parody
your upping sticks and moving on out – no need for rewiring
in England the trains goes from a to nearly b
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– fishing in the shallow waters
half submerged
years ago in them days when you
were confused by your reflection –
them days of no attention and neglect
you grew a beard and soiled yourself
attention waned
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the removed the bodies at the graveyard – moved them to lower rent areas – geographical memories disassociated from all events that lead here –
I know we’re being watched
lenses and eyes that scan faces
broken toes from the death hike
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WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF “FISHING”
THE FLASH OF ROMANCE
A QUICK CONTRACTION
POSSIBLY PAIN-LIKE
FROM TOE TO HEAD
————————————PEOPLE WERE TALKING
ABOUT HOW SMALL THE BRIDE WAS
EVE WAS LIKE A SMALL DOLL
EVEN THE LORD TREMBLED
HER NAKED BODY WAS SHARP
WORKING IN SILENCE
ADAM WAS UPSET
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LATE NIGHT RADIO “ENGLISHMEN AND BROKEN TOES”
TOO BUSY—TOO UNCERTAIN—WAVERING
UPON CREATION, EVE CLIMBED UP A TREE
WIDE DETOURS OF HER WOMAN PARTS
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I HANDED YOU A MESSAGE:
“EVE STRUGGLED IN A WORLD POPULATED WITH ONE MAN”
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LATE AT NIGHT
HIS KERNEL THRUSTING
IDIOTS CALL IT LOVE
*jism stains that resemble Leviathan
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long wave radio and the strange signals – transmission interrupted
– wavering
– on waves like the ark
– woman parts
third aisle on the left
uncertain but we plough on knee deep
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Rorschach jism stains
butterflies or falcons?
early in the morning
remnants of yesterday
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EVE UP THE TREE
WITH MEN CREATED EQUAL
EVE WITH HER WOMAN PARTS
SHOUTING, “RENDER ME MORE EQUAL”
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THEY REMOVED THE BODIES FROM THE GARDEN
THAT LEVEL OF PERFECTION FROM UP ABOVE
SWINDLING IN THE SHADOWS OF EDEN
—was there a need for evolutionary science ?
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man struggled in the garden with a snake and long grass –
nagging eve
a rake
rotting apple, half a worm
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100% dedication to the wrong thing
weeks of planning up in smoke
she walked away and left her shadow waiting
moving further away from the tangent
off kilter
no need for precise measurement here
best guess
best guesses
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———————-assigned in the adult world—————-
THE POETS WERE THE GUARDS
THE READERS WERE THE PRISONERS
THE GUARDS EXHIBITED SADISTIC TENDENCIES
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EVE ASKED ADAM TO FILL OUT A QUESTIONAIRE
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role reversal
Stanford experiment
prisoner vs prison guards
– prison guards become prisoners
or prisoners are released
– so many grey areas*
*the fear when you realise
people at bad
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WORDS TO START A TRAUMATIC EPISODE
INEVITABLY
MORE PILLS FOR MORE PEOPLE
3 WEEKS RESTACKING THE BRAIN
THOUSANDS OF NEW NAMES AND PASSWORDS
—always been a fan of Swedish hormones
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he put Xs in random boxes and waited for the computer to piss out an answer
and it did
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SOME DEGREE OF SUBCONSCIOUS RACIAL BIAS
IN THE “GRAY AREAS”
-FEMINIZED MASCULINITY
-TOLERANCE
soft hugs and butterfly kisses
a small number of pacifists
the authorization of force following marriage
unencumbered to encumbered
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traumatic episodes
Golden Girls and Cheers
all recorded on tape
black tape,
like a belt,
three pills before breakfast
three at lunch
– prescription charges, easy assembled hormones that collapse after use
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——COLLAPSE AFTER USE——
SELF-TIMER BUZZES
THE LIMP SKIN PULLED FROM A DOG
it easily impersonated the limp skin from a dog
HORMONES CALLED “FAHRENHEIT”
UNFATHOMABLE BOTTOMS
LIMITLESS CAPACITY
INCH AFTER BLACK INCH
PALMS UP TO SLEEP
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THE OUTER JOHNNY BOY
TRIES TO FOCUS
ON THE INNER WRITER
—————————————-HER EXQUISITE POSTURE
——————–EXQUISITELY POSTURING WOMAN PARTS
AROUSAL ON THE TRAIN TRACKS
THE MUSCLES OF HER ABDOMEN
SPIRITUALLY CORRECT
willing to die at any time
willing-to-die-at-any-time
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THE REVOLVING DOOR OF POETRY
SPLIT OPEN LIKE EVE
ON THE DAY OF THE FIRST BIRTH
——(THE BIRTH GUT)——
LITERARY WORLD STUNNED
SOURCE OF STRANGE SOUNDS LOCATED
HIRED, REHAB, FIRED, ON THE STREET
REWRITTEN FIFTY TIMES
TESTS LIKE A FIRING SQUAD
A LOW-CUT DRESS ON DEATH
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GOLD-EMBROIDERED
CURTAIN TROUSERS
ABANDONED WOMEN
OUTSIDE THE FOLD
EMBATTLED WORDS
SUSPENDED
ALMOST LEVITATING
——————————
——————————
VERBS ON BLACKENED PAPER
MUCOUS EXCITATION
FINGERS IN ZONES
EXAGGERATED FRENCH ACCENTS
REAL-LIFE POETRY FLOATING ABOUT
ASHAMED TO OPENLY ACKNOWLEDGE IT
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the inner poet looks for winter
no new words for snow
how to tell the difference between stalactites and stalagmites
– one goes up
– one goes down
johnny boy sitting in winter where the whole world looks ill
not willing to die
waiting to live
the trees all look sad and pathetic, sick and cold, naked in the grey
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stuck in that revolving door, dizzy from centrifugal force
the stunned faces when they saw the first words collected in a sentence
new slang – the evolution of words – the same old maths,
numbers don’t change,
frozen since the 16th century
gulag dreams and frostbitten toes
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all i want for christmas is gold embroidered curtain trousers, a pair for each member of the family, matching legs, gold and glistening, content and happy
nouns thrown around like tennis balls
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amateur poet time in the quiet corner of the library
– blank faces whitewashed and gaunt
– people who add copyright disclaimers to pages of rubbish
I’m going back in my to my hole
until till the kettles boiled
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Reblogged this on multiplemichael.
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MY COLORING BOOK LIFE IS FULL OF PEOPLE
WITH COUNTLESS COPYRIGHT DISCLAIMERS
STUCK ALL OVER THEIR BODIES AND FACES
A SURE SIGN OF RUBBISH
IS A COPYRIGHT DISCLAIMER
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AFTER THE FIRST ACT OF BIRTH
EVE SAID THAT NO ONE OR NO THING
WAS TO RETURN TO THAT HOLE
BODILESS IN WATER—AMATEUR POETS
TRYING TO MAKE WORDS FLOAT
PRAYERS TO HEAVEN
FOR AQUATIC ASSISTANCE
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all I want for Christmas is spiritual suspension
erase Noah and the Ark
erase Adam and Eve
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drab poets talk of emotion and feelings but not life –
end sentences with emoticons
– who would want to copy that?
– the flarf men’s spray gun approach – the flarf men always colour over the edges
– a mess of scribbles
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that hole was off limits – she decreed it as was her right
however
other holes where available – tighter,
maybe
but still a hole
water wings
flotation tanks and 15 minutes of peace
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SELF-PROCLAIMED ATHLETES IN THE POET WORLD
RUN-RIDE- OR HIDE
THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN BEING HERE
AND BEING THERE
A MEAL TICKET IF YOU CAN LEVITATE
(prohibitions on ambrosia)
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all I want for Christmas is a saviour (in trainers…no sandals) – and a big beard !
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self proclaimed athletes are just average joes with steroids coursing through clogged up veins – they can’t really run –
needle sharp skin piercing –
they just punch pout in gym gear*
-rich woman in gym gear drinking coffee have never seen a tread mill or touch a weight –
just tight lycra and coffers 10 minutes after dropping Poppy off at the school gates
their meal ticket is their husband cock
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ONE OF THE COUNTRY’S SIX GREATEST POETS
PREOCCUPIED WITH THE SEX ACT
CONSTANTLY STARTING WHAT COULDN’T BE FINISHED
A RHINOCEROS IN GOOD STANDING
no question about whodunit
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sixth greatest poet voted by phone poll
tiny Napoleon frozen on the way to Russia –
told Josephine not to wash, to keep it dirty – AWAIT MY RETURN
planning the overthrow of the world with sex on his mind
and a sword on his waist
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NAPOLEON’S UNDERWEAR OFTEN ON DISPLAY
VELVETY SMOOTH WITH BATTLE MARKS
TOLD JOSEPHINE NOT TO WASH
THE OPENING VISIBLE
STANDING STARK NAKED
*in a room full of proofreaders—sexual scissors—those surreal legs
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newspapers
periodicals
an open hole
limber girl made like scissors
with her legs
correcting others
but never herself
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the male poet with his solitary task
a regular athlete
fictional rumors about sex
one can identify the geographical origin of semen
by taste or texture
or understand
all the sins of the will and imagination
or reproduce them for readers
every living creature a voyeur
sex in the head
years to burrow
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TREADING THE WATER
WITH EITHER HAND
MASTURBATION
*she was sleeping on the surface (buoyant sexuality)
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ghostlike and immaterial
that hand busy yanking
a one-man act
drowning in erotic daydreams
head above the surface
but not for long
*testicles dropped from the Alps
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release of the endorphins
hormone stamina from Switzerland
artistic thoughts of a female kayak
giving adult birth
with pleasure
FLUID FLESH—DILUTED FLESH
abundant secretions
labor deluxe
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battle marks from the eternal struggle – brown scratches on once white cotton – Napoleons pants are split BRING RE-ENFORCEMENTS –
– tiny man by all accounts
– tiny
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a one armed scissor can not fulfil its full potential –
mistaken for a killer in the supermarket checkout queue – the beard is a giveaway — groceries dropped and no payment offered –
apples role from a bag and past the automatic doors
in to the Florida sun
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fictional rumours filtered in
through smashed car windows and crowded streets
– a charm offensive on three wheels
– filmed against a backdrop of animosity, it will be sold off as rough textures
– sex in the head, literally
through the ear
semen of glue,
either way it’s stuck
– living cream
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one yank
and he went under
another yank
and he went under
– both heads throbbing
– sinking not treading water
somehow above and below the surface
iceberg sexuality
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dropping anchor
– one hand yanker
a one man act in a world of his own
– lost amongst erotic trees and daydreams – dropped from here
(holds hand up to indicate how high)
semen resembles ghosts
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third grade history class
body language and Napoleon
his unmentionable semicolon
a tiny torso with a large loaf
fatigued from all the measurements
robe-clad Josephine
often open to one side
a goddess of nature
physically a virgin
defined by no one
confined by no bond
belonging to no one
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COLD ON THE SURFACE
A BOIL UNDER THE HOOD
UPSTART SEMICOLONS
———————-OGLES
NOT A DRY EYE IN THE PANTS
SEX ON A LEASH LIKE A PET
LEGGY NAPOLEON
BY LENGTH AND SHAPE
ESSENTIAL REALITY
*stand up and still touch the ground
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ONE ARM SCISSOR MORE TOLERANT
DENATURED LOVE AND SEX
CORRUPTIBLE GENITALS
DISPENSING—?—CRYPTIC DISPENSING
PERSISTENT STUBBORN DESIRE
NAPOLEON IN BRITCHES
HIS SELF-STYLED SADDLE
LOWER FLORIDA ALLIGATOR BOOTS
*bony neck with large head
*hairy and soft on arrival
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WALKING HAND-IN-HAND
IN THE LAND
OF UNCOMMON PSYCHIATRIC SYNDROMES
SATELLITES WATCHING JEWS
WHO OFTEN FAIL TO FLOAT
AND DROWN ALONE
THE WATER BEING A FOE
ONLY THE STRANGE ONES SURVIVE
SATAN LOVES THE MELTING POT
ETHNIC-RELIGIOUS
ANCESTORS WITH DEEP ROOTS
CUT AND DISCARDED
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dissenting peasantry in America
Yes—poor people glue numbers on paper money
so rich people can spend millions
purchasing Warhol artwork
Polaroid Andy—upside down in Hell
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the poet soon realizes that it is himself
that he has delivered for destruction
solitary individuality
a sharp axe
Old Believers
in the cult of separation
body on one side
head in a basket
stunned relatives
and readers
*proofreaders with paper towels
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————————black lemonade
WHERE IS YOUR VOICE COMING FROM ?
you cough up headlines in your sleep
literary detectives are outside my window
they often sing some crazy song
“ninety-nine anonymous friends”
poetry cut and cut and rounded
expanded — reshaped — remolded
fear of memories about the poetic honeymoon
rubber sheets on the literary bed
hotel employees prepared for disaster
normal hazards and hazards requiring stitches
“MY GOD, HOW LONG CAN HE RENEW THE ASSAULT ?”
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dissenting peasantry in America
Yes—poor people glue numbers on paper money
how many Francs before France ?
funny money is long gone
back to true blue
fruit at the market
before it’s ripe
unspeakable
fruit picked before it is ripe
often by hands from a modern concentration camp
ghost painters for Warhol
$10 per hour
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they say that those Warhol ghost painters
are real beauties
the men with ugly grins
unknown suicides with sodomy
virile, bona fide male rape
“in a clench with a rip”
sadistic satisfaction
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going against nature
and then suffering unhappiness
finding it difficult to be gay
not “MAN” enough
different but not theatrical
emotional quagmires
incompleteness
absenteeism
———————-the backseat of the car
full of male hookers and con men
photographs of sin and syphilis
———————-countless dreams with Allen Ginsberg
I openly exclaimed, “you may be many things
but you are not a poet !”
*not one single person has read anything written
by Allen Ginsberg in 18 months
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I have a song called one armed scissor
– like the honeymoon might it was short and dirty
– no distinction between what we did and what we thought we were supposed to do –
alligator shoes from the days of yore – worn by fashionable cavemen at the local discotecque
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poor people in $150 dollar shoes vs poor people on the street –
always grey areas
I hear that in America many can’t afford health care so they carry out operations on themselves and close members of their family –
inter- generational amputation with whisky sedatives
PASS THE AXE EUGENE
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French Revolution
heads in the basket
still blinking
mouth open but nothing to say, what can you say???!?!?
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“MY GOD, HOW LONG CAN THEY RENEW THE ASSAULT ?”
Second World War was fought on a mixture of uppers and downers – nazis on ampethamine and meth – ration books for drugs
– sailors in two man submarines on cocktails of cocaine and sedatives –
where is the voice coming from when you’re 10 fathoms down
– at rock bottom
(knead the words stretch and compress and knead)
Germanic meth tastes like muddy fields, itchy teeth
trigger fingers
pages filled nonsensical vomit
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PEOPLE THINK THAT MENTAL HEALTH
STARTS WITH WASHING THE HANDS
TRYING TO REMOVE THE GUILT
———-the alligator shoes
CHANGING THE SOCKS
START WITH LIGHTER COLORS
END THE EVENING IN PITCH BLACK
32 PAIRS OF SOCKS ON AN AVERAGE DAY
———-THANK GOD for two hands
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free socks at the entrance –
in some circles the colour of your socks is a code
sexual
– sends out signals
– misread like crocodile shoes when you want alligator ones – it’s the subtle differences
the blur of the line
this or that?
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$150 shoes are factory “seconds”
wrong sizes/colors
Americans are perfectionists
poor people not so much
wearying
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decisions decisions decisions obsolete if predetermined by birth – boomerang sexuality
– return to sender –
they were in the back seat
I was in the front, embarrassed and not peeking – I moved the rear view mirror
changed its angle
many people thought Ginsberg was a confederate state
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I keep attendance records on Allen Ginsberg
short run—long term
the least read poetry
Allen Ginsberg in blackface
I asked the library guards
to remove his works
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300 million people and less than 20 get killed
and people are out of their minds
“WHAT WILL WE DO ?”
the chips are down
broken windows
missing doors
tottering old people
“WHO WILL BE NEXT ?”
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did they remove it?
I heard they didn’t
just changed the dust jacket – a Hardy Boys mystery but inside,
inside, Ginsberg
the attendance records are fake
were forged
not real
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IRISH CRIME IN SOUTH FLORIDA
ALWAYS STARTS WITH CROCODILE SHOES
PEOPLE WHO HAVE NOT WORN THE YEARS WELL
PSYCHOTIC BLEND OF PLAIDS
PLAID PEPPERED GENTS
SODOMY PROTAGONISTS
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no one knew the death count
the true figures
so far off their faces
out of their heads
they were firing at ghosts
– shooting at empty space
– 4 days with out sleep
knee deep in mud
and out of step
– fatigued in camouflage while others played bingo in stately homes
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Irish crime,
explosive potatoes – good luck green – for years people thought I was the one selling the shoes – I wasn’t
I was just a weakly sketched out protagonist reading someone else’s lines –
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HARDBOILED ALLEN GINSBERG
PAYING PROSTITUTES
TO LICK THEM CLEAN
ROTTEN TO THE CORE
HE LOVED THE TASTE
OF AN EX-CON
——–SODOMY (WHISTLING ALL THE WAY)
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WEAKLY SKETCHED OUT PROTAGONIST
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
THAT WILL GET YOU A STALL
AT ANY INTERSTATE RESTROOM
NO POSSIBILITY OF REDEMPTION
AS THE MEN PASS YOU AROUND
———CIRCLE THE BLOCK———
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………ONE ARMED SISTER
IN THE OTHER ROOM
AT THE FAMOUS HONEYMOON HOTEL
was that an intestine protruding from down there ?
“GET BACK TO BUSINESS OR GET OUT”
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in the restroom somewhere off an interstate* all your 4000 comments scrawled in pen –
– no possibility of probation from these roles assigned –
bury the waste in the morning
*there motorways here
no turnpikes
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taking a leak on the endless road to redemption
some guy says, “I think his intestine is protruding from his backside”
so goes the world of poetry—tuberculosis and truck stop sodomy
penitentiary graduates cleaning toilets
impoverished gigolos
with cunning jujitsu tongues
working-class oral jabs
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the mother no longer a grimy baby factory
candles ripped from the cake
a happier more efficient life
————poets loaded with inferiority
————strange things inherited
Allen Ginsberg may be recognized by history
—deficient intellect, weeds and monkey hair
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who will deny the right of existence to poets ?
ask yourself—your neighbor
WHAT IS VITAL ?
brutality—the worship of force
recognized by history
taught to young minds
*we who submit willingly to unconditional authority
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TARZAN QUESTIONED BY THE GESTAPO
TARZAN SHOT BY THE STATE POLICE IN KENTUCKY
OPPONENTS TOO HEAVY TO CLIMB TREES
ALLEN GINSBERG WITH GRIZZLED HAIR
SURPLUS FLESH
A HARPOONER
AND A HARPOONEE
A ROPE LADDER ON HIS BACKSIDE
FIRE AND BRIMSTONE IN SLACKS
FORBIDDING GLANCES AT THE URINAL
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———THE TURNPIKE TOILET
RESTING PLACE FOR THE DIFFERENT
THE UNUSUAL——ARTISTS AND POETS
OUTSIDERS, UFO INHABITANTS
MEN WHO WEAR LEATHER
AND SMOKE CHUBBY CIGARS
“PAPERBACK PEOPLE”
A SOCIAL WORLD WHERE SEX CAN BE SURVIVAL
WHERE RELIGION IS NO STRONGER THAN VITAMIN C
PHYSICALLY EXHAUSTED WITH MALE MENUS
CONVERSATION BANGING AGAINST YOUR PRIVATES
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———————-YOU SAID ALL KINDS OF CRAZY THINGS—LIKE YOU SWALLOWED 34 SACRED HEART MEDALS—THAT YOU MAY HAVE SWALLOWED AN ALARM CLOCK—I FELT NERVOUS ABOUT MY TRANSISTOR RADIO—HAD YOU SWALLOWED IT ALSO ?
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underhanded poetry—the small print on Broadway playbills
whimsical talk and late-night perfume
almost human apes between continents
you chuckle each morning
your day is “mapped” out for you
both touching and sinister
*tails were whipping around in the men’s room
*math and maps and ill-fitting symmetry
*overeducated poets
*preposterous poetry
*life ravels away
THE SWEDISH LADY JUST PUBLISHED A NOVEL
HIGHLY UNREADABLE—–TOO MANY DETOURS
LIVING IN A FOREIGN COUNTRY
SHE COULDN’T SPELL
BUSINESSLIKE SEX
COLD AND UNRESPONSIVE
SUPPER CLUB SEX
STUFFED ANIMAL INTERCOURSE
SKIMMED-OFF COTTAGE CHEESE
POLKA-DOTTED PUBIC HAIR
WRINGING WET
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5 to 10 years
1 to 5 lines – sentenced in absentia – they didn’t even know who the culprit was – just rumour and pointing fingers from victim A –
protruding through the sheen of history, a bump in the road,
too many miles from home
robust jabs from the Kung-fu King
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the mother has gone through the process –
daughter mother –
the cycle completed
now free and unfettered –
crushed cocoon
pendulous breasts no long suckled
– veins like tributaries of great rivers spread out across her surface –
Ginsberg but with the head of Bukowski – she alway got the two confused
the fork roads of history
the ineffectual lines of the self proclaimed flarf King
(His silence speaks volumes)
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————-you said all the children in the neighborhood
came from too many gin & tonics
otherworldly, so afloat
and yet the faces like apes
to discover the genius in others
self-set goals in private
endless years of marriage
and not a hint of initiative or curiosity
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
live and work and constantly
second-guessed
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————-IN THE TORTURED MINDS OF WOMEN
————-IN THE TORTURED MINDS OF LONELY WOMEN
A TWINGE IN THE PRIVATES
PERFECTLY GROOMED PRIVATES
THREE PAIRS OF PANTIES AND A BATHING SUIT
NO FEAR OF LOSING TOUCH
NO DRINK, DRINK, ON THE BRINK
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REALITY IS A COLLECTION OF SMALL MOLECULAR UNITS
AUTOGRAPHED SEX
YOU WIFE AT HOME WITH HER GIFT BASKET
SO HAPPY SHE CAPTURED YOU
WHILE YOU WERE STILL FRESH
*purposeful Johnny—not Tennessee Williams
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underhanded poetry—-the tub was large enough that I would get in with Tennessee Williams
whimsical talk with a master of the word on paper
he had a collection of perfumes—his favorite was from the French Revolution
there was nothing I could say to change the loop of ape eat ape
once you chuckled at me from behind a statue of the Virgin Mary
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underhanded poetry—we traded our lives for milk, bread, and eggs
achieving a level of unequalled ghoulishness
each family member a hybrid
intellectual stimulation in grade school
color photographs of apes killing apes for food
not a single person in the Civil War
had a personality
American Indians collected turtles for fresh winter meat
the turtles were really the lost children of Adam and Eve
no poem is complete until it takes that final step
——————(white people)————————-
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Gymnasium love with paper hearts
scribbling away
unknowable words
monastic life with Emily
———————————–catch and appreciate Emily
midnight sticky—writhing in the sheets
a blob of Dickinson flesh
A BLOB OF DICKINSON FLESH
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AUTOGRAPHED SEX HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH ROMEO & JULIET
BARKING BACK TO EARLIER TIMES—BESIEGED BY DIRTY DEEDS
TRYING TO TRANSLATE LIFE INTO LITERATURE
*saying goodbye to Florida
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Tarzan and the Vines was the house and and at the Leviathan social –
– giver and taker – the rules of love –
Allen Ginsberg, 16 of Des Moines regular gets misdirected mail
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try trying to translate literature into life –
sometime not enough supporting actors to fill the roles –
not enough words to share
dirty deeds cleaned up for the next generation
this generations dirty deeds would make your grandmother cry
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all in search of A BLOB OF DICKINSON FLESH – missions and adventurers set out to find it
to capture it and hang it in a museum for all to see
$5 entrance fee
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milk
bread
eggs
the holy trinity
– who was it that first fried an egg?**
eating the young
our civil war was fought in a grey swirl of fog
soldiers ate mushrooms and hallucinated
– not only fighting themselves but fighting demons and ghosts
illiterate men roaming fields of Albion, they had never seen a turtle
let alone eaten one
**saw it fall from a chicken and decided to cook it, imagine if it was another animal and something else exiting them –
– parallel universe where omelettes aren’t what they seem
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THINKING ABOUT FRIENDS WITH GOLDEN HAIR
I THANK GOD A THOUSAND TIMES A DAY
THANKS GOD FOR FRIENDS WITH GOLDEN HAIR
WELL-FITTING CUFFLESS TROUSERS
RESTLESS $100 DOLLAR BILLS
CROISSANTS IN EUROPE
WHIRLING DERVISHES
ON GERMAN METH
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POETS TALKING
BREAKING INTO LAUGHTER
BROTHER AND SISTER WORDS
TOTEMIC HORMONES FROM SWEDEN
WE TRIED SO HARD TO BE CORRECT
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—————–SHE
WENT STRAIGHT TO BED
STILL NOTHING WAS SAID
A GHOSTLIKE LOVER
BITTERSWEEET ON HORMONES
A RATHER RESTRICTED LIFE
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at school all they taught us was to desire temptation
comfortable homes with expensive belongings
reach-around pleasures—guys into sports
no one ever kissed
it was just sausage and potato
*sausage and potato highway with an endless white stripe
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PIPE SMOKE AND A FAVORITE READING LAMP
STICK IT OUT—THE HONEYMOON COMPLICATIONS
NOT TO MENTION THE DINOSAUR DICK
DEEP-WATER FISH ON THE MENU
ODD SHAPED FROM THE PRESSURE
NUZZLING FISH DEAR BOY
*clear, crisp, yellow eggs with American bacon
*a spurt of renewed masculinity
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THROWING ROCKS AT ROBERT FROST
ducksquirt poetry
HE SAID AFTER HE SMELLED THE TOES
BUNGHOLE HE WOULD GO
NO INTERRUPTIONS—KNOB IN SIGHT
DOMINATED……MADE UNCOMFORTABLE
LOVE WITH A TERRIBLE FACE ?
OPPORTUNISTS (WORD OPPORTUNISTS)
*60 years ago it wasn’t rape—just a self-absorbed poet with a bananafish
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———————————–IN TERMS OF RACOON-DOG COATS PURCHASED FROM CHINA
not talking about modern angels living in New York City
TALKING ABOUT THE FARMS WHERE THEY RAISE RACOON-DOGS FOR THEIR FUR
FAKE FUR AROUND YOUR NECK ISN’T FAKE OR MANMADE
RACOON-DOG MEAT IS ON YOUR PLATE
LURKING DARKNESS
JESUS WITH HIS DEADLINES
FIRST THE TRANSLATION
THEN THE COMPLETION
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NEVER AS COMPLIANT AS HER LOVER THOUGHT
A GUY WITH A FEW MORE INCHES
A SCARY CURVE
THE MEN WERE JUST FLEETING PLEASURES
ZUCCHINI IN THE WIND
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——————-SO MANY DEAD FEELINGS ABOUT SO MANY THINGS
COTTON PEASANT CLOTHING—NOT HOLLYWOOD OR SIRLOIN
DAYDREAMS ABOUT BEING JOHN KENNEDY—BEING NAUGHTY
NOT JUST SOME PROFOUND RELIEF THAT IT’S DONE WITH
THE SIGNIFICANCE OF HIT AND RUN
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THE LITTLE FAMILY IN FESTIVE POSES
ENJOYING ALL THE THINGS
NOT PERMITTED ON THE ARK
NO COOKIE DOUGH FOR NOAH
LIP-SMACKING WAS A NO-NO
*secret people in Switzerland—yes, there were secret people in Switzerland
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———-ALLEN GINSBERG, A POET PARACHUTIST THAT NEVER LEFT THE GROUND
poetry with opening and closing scenes
one entanglement to another
poetry with no ripcord
poetry with no return address
more pain than pleasure
*culinary prose and cutlery
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ramblings about Noah and family
entries and jottings
aches and pains
———-no secret
Noah used Ginsberg poetry to light the stove
hideous poetry straight from the sanatorium
all adhesions to the flames
nothing normal about Ginsberg
*the alphabet in poor repair
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poets talking in stanzas
pausing between a words the silence between
ex brother and sisters hiding secrets
faint outline of FATHER FIGURE
what happened can’t happen again
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at school chalk boards with facts
lines and diagrams
holding hands in the food hall
– packs of kids feral
band names scrawled on bags
drunk teachers at lunch
endless future started then and stretched all the way to the vanishing point through the walls and lockers and playing fields and on and on and the road passed under them like unspooling tape
– guys into sport communal showers and steam
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ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE JUNIOR HIGH
——————————————————–
MEMORABLE FACES IN THE YEARBOOK
DETECTIVE COURSES: OBSERVATIONS AND DETAILS
ODDLY FAMILIAR ROMANCES
A WOMAN WHOSE TRUE IDENTITY
MAY NEVER BE KNOWN
SHE WITH HER FINGER
“HER PROWLER”
LIFE IS ALL ABOUT GEOGRAPHY
*the math people say that there are no ready-made plots
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*dope dealers, pimps, con artists, bootleggers, Mick Jagger
(LIGHTING A CIGARETTE—TRADEMARK)
SCENARIOS OF CHILDREN AROUND A BIRTHDAY CAKE
RAPPERS SINGING “HAPPY BIRTHDAY”
THE SMALL GIRL WAS ON A RICKETY LADDER
CONSTANTLY GETTING CLOSER TO HONEST REALITY
SHE COULD SEE A LANGUAGE THAT SUITED ADAM AND EVE
SOMEDAY THERE WOULD BE WORDS THAT WOULD HAVE TO HIDE
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tardy reactions to the teachers questioning
“MOUTH POKEY BABY”
FLAWED CHILDREN BEING TAUGHT RIDICULOUS CRAP
CRIPPLING SIN IN THE BATHROOMS AND BACK CORNERS
ROMANS AND GERMANS LOCKED IN GRAVES
RELENTLESS PAIN
HAVING SHOVELED THEMSELVES
UNABLE TO ESCAPE THE STENCH
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REFLECTIONS OF COLORED LIGHTS
PUDDLES IN THE MOTEL PARKING LOT
SEX WITH STARTLED FACES
ONE-NIGHT STANDS
GUESTHOUSE ROMANCES
NO NEED FOR LENGTHY CRITIQUES
*WIDE HORIZONTAL
*VERTICAL THRUST
*SPILLING OUT
———————————————————-
———————————————————-
colorful chunks of cheap Mexican food
euphoria and melancholy
the pursued becoming pursuer
confusion
SHE said that it was a tumor
and just push past it
IT WAS A TUMOR AND I PUSHED PAST IT
IT WAS A TUMOR AND YOU PUSHED PAST IT
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LISTENING TO A PARTICULAR MUSIC
CHLOROFORMED JAZZ
AFTER YEARS OF ELECTROSHOCK
ELEVATOR MUSIC FROM THE POLICE STATION LOBBY
VEILS OF DECEIT AROUND A DANGEROUS CARNIVAL RIDE
BARRELING ALONG THE RODEO RING
LOOPS AND LASSOS—THE GRAVITY OF LANGUAGE
ONE HELL OF A BATTLE ACCIDENT
NOTORIOUSLY DIFFICULT TO GET IN
NOTORIOUSLY DIFFICULT TO GET OUT OF
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carnival rides and the bikes of death
dangerous prizes to be won
red-neck banjo
secrets hidden under beards and inside honey jars
the tents will come down
the carnival will leave town
they will be back
lassoed to the past
feeble muscles ravaged
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cheap Mexican food at the Hawaiian beach front
– foreign tongues trying to request entrance – hand gestures and violent thrusts
the one night stand 21years later –
more than a tumour
more than a blockage
a manifestation of many thing
solid and black
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(somehow when you use the word “banjo” I feel cheap)
so often fantasy dominates over reality
the strange over the commonplace
99% of readers under the age of 21
would not know what a banjo is
or the harrowing significance of it
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through pathways and caverns—past TUMORS
the journey from innocence to sexual maturity
sexualized interiors—our own selves
heirs to valuable estates
affinity between the genders
the terror and rage of marriage
the background banjo music
fast-moving sodomy
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what could be more fascinating or more terrifying
than the sodomy never mentioned in Romeo and Juliet ?
THINK ABOUT EPIDERMIS AND DAPHNE du MAURIER
phantom lovers—all the white guys on a basketball team
turtleneck skins —nothing pinned up or sewed or knotted
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WITHOUT THE BENEFITS OF HINDSIGHT
A BANJO FOR A CHRISTMAS PRESENT
—————-the better days
SHE rented that Lady Remington razor
and you enjoyed the landing strip look
—————————————————
—————————————————
QUICK THOUGHTS:
too many plastic surgeries
a relative with a black eye patch
scar tissue
silhouette of a husky lover
detectives that break fingers
charged language
charged language outside your bedroom window at 3am
red herrings in your sock drawer
a flea with a secretive nature
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socks stuffed with straw and given as seasonal gifts – button eyes – coconut husks heads with
Donald Trump hair
charged language from the lectern something between caveman and fascist sounding
hide him behind the sofa
suck him up in a vacuum cleaner
detectives have been bought off and have changed sides
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hoodwinked into placing your hand in the dark hole
a sketch of a tumour (not to scale)
cross hatched shaded –
delineated innocence
sexual pandering
never reached maturity
an affinity with time and space
she bought me a stringless banjo
I had to earn the strings
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banjo or ukulele?
confusion amongst the young –
affinity with music making machines –
no strumming
no Beatle King
future music for the robot boys
Bowie will come back as a cyborg blowing a trumpet
Bowie from the future
past
and present
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how to think about ukulele vs banjo
on a public bus, a banjo could sit at the back of the bus
a ukulele would have to ride on top of the bus
Elvis probably played a ukulele in a movie
beach bums or surfer dudes
played ukuleles
I have never seen a real ukulele
I have tried to play a banjo
sounds great
not a chick magnet
not known in the black world
poor tennis racket substitute
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they said that you were hoodwinked
but Jesus Man—you wasn’t hoodwinked
there are only violent solutions to conflicts
in my simple life
immediate danger
clangs in the background
detention poetry
on scraps of paper
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FAST-MOVING SODOMY
JOHNNY CASH SINGING IN SAN QUENTIN
THE DETAILS OF INCARCERATION
WOULD BE WASTED ON ADELE
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buskers on buses armed with
ukuleles – pockets rattling with change –
back of the bus antics on the way to the beach
beach bums with greaser hair
swimming shorts and bike chains
– black substitutes with snow shoe banjos
Elvis did play a ukulele
Elvis did kill a man
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IN FLORIDA
PEOPLE EXPLODE
IF THEY THINK ABOUT BANJOS
BEING USED AS SNOW SHOES
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Adele in snowshoes
tanning on a Florida beach
people take photos and MMS relatives
– badly exposed in Florida
people explode
**Donald Trumps hair as a parasol
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ELVIS WAS INGENIOUSLY CONTRIVED
ROMANTICIZED CRIME AND CRIMINALITY
THE INNER CLIQUE OF SODOMY
NO MATTER HOW HIGH THE WALLS GREW
(SINGING) A DEFENSE MECHANISM FIRST CLASS
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PLEASE HELP DONALD TRUMP
MAINTAIN HIS DIGNITY
ROUGH HANDS PRODUCE A BETTER WORLD
AMERICA FOR AMERICANS
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Elvis never set foot in England
rumours abound he was seen on a beach
on a promenade his quiff blowing in northern sea breeze – he was seen at a self defence class –
pushing letters into red post boxes – maybe letters home?
maybe angry letters to the local council?
Elvis never foot in England
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A HUNDRED PESETAS FOR AN ELVIS RELIC
————————————————————-
IT WOULD SEEM THAT THE OTHER SIDE IS NO LONGER SLEEPING
ENDLESS ENEMAS AND THINGS SEEM CLEAR
ELVIS IS PETRIFIED RICTUS
LIFE CAUSED HIM GREAT DAMAGE
*rumor has it that you were trying to measure him—put him on a map
*your sense of discovery is very distinct
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background banjo music—fast-moving sodomy
BACKGROUND BANJO MUSIC—FAST MOVING SODOMY
shorter and shorter sentences—one-liners
A SINGLE SARCASTIC EYE
WITH A SUITCASE, THE BRIDE ARRIVED NAKED AT THE CHURCH
INSTRUCTIONS FOR UNNATURAL ACTS
LAS VEGAS STYLE INTERCOURSE
WIPING COMES TO A HALT
“PUNCH THROUGH PAST THE TUMOR”
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Elvis buried but still alive – rhinestone King of
conversational poetry – stories of dead rock stars – spoons – people sodomised by presumption – bad art – dark town disappointment – the Jazz of Russia –
animals of the arks saltwater enema
stuck in a rumour with a rictus grin
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PLOTTED COMMENTS PACKED WITH MOMENTS OF BRILLIANCE
READERS WHO HAVE ALREADY PASSED ONCE
HIPPY GIRLS AND INTER-CONNECTEDNESS
THEY WARN OF DANGERS AND POINT AT CLUES
*I get updates about my FBI trainee—sometimes I bug out in public places
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——————————-wallops on the head
today in the break room they were watching a video
of Jeff’s sister throwing a baby out the window
of a speeding car in the dark
———————————–
———————————–
—–her shame-her fault——-the baby came
a lot of rage
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——————————(agonizing)
tossed out all the baby related items today
the cruelest of the cruel
casual cruelty
she was so small
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during recess they recreated the scene with Jeffs sister
filmed it and stuck it on you tube
– cathartic actions of repressed men –
speeding cars
the train as a phallus
the tunnel is a dark metaphor
shame comes in many shades
rage is always red
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she grew to be 124 foot tall in borrowed clothes
– tight pants and hand me down Nikes
air bubbles ready to burst –
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memory: “SHAME BORROWED FROM ENGLISH SAILORS AND MERCHANTS”
by common consent—who was the family clown—the funny man ?
one cannot escape themselves—past, present, future
perpetual imprisonment in de’ skin
written about every day—semi-official reports
confidential accounts
privately kept diaries (like Adele)
they watch you around the clock
poetry with lewdness/debauchery
they spit on the floor
and shoot garter belts
coded arrangements
literary profaner blues
*the burden of silence
*those outside the fold
stay outside the fold
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the fear of floating in deep water
8000 feet below you
the bottom
Johnny Boy Levitating
(treading the poetic waters)
the fear of floating over sex-starved readers
your lover with her prior restraints
you made light of it all
(artificial display)
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TWO PEOPLE STUCK TOGETHER
JOHNNY BOY PLUCKED AND BOWED
A SAFE DISTANCE FROM THREE STRINGED INSTRUMENTS
BANJOS ARE STUFFED WITH MYTHS NOT FACTS
THE WORD “ERRONEOUS” ON YOUR NAME TAG
*Mathematician Johnny uses the word CLITORID for the first time
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YOU WERE A SMART LITTLE WORM
TAKING RESIDENCE IN YOUR MOTHER
AND GROWING INTO A BODY
YOU WERE ONE HELL OF A MOCKINGBIRD BABY
THE ENDLESS STRETCH ON FLESH SHEETS
YOU WERE TO BE DIFFERENT THAN THAT KNOWN
*gravity upsets the emotions (motion often brings emotion)
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****************elusive poet flushed from his refuge
THE BUILDUP OF THE BODY
ABDOMINALS AND PECTORALS
BICEPS AND TRICEPS
INFLATED TORSO
NO DEFORMITY
NO HIERONYMUS BOSCH
*a reproduction remains a reproduction
*disreputable energies
*a sense of self scrubbed by adults
*a sense of self scrubbed by readers
*restrict expression and SURVIVE
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bowie-BOWIE-bowie
merely more ridiculous
turning against himself
knee deep in old age
*sexual dereliction and yellow teeth
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cut from he same cloth
foul mouthed little babies
there is somewhere in my furthest memory that is concrete
and there is a broken thumb nail
a collapsed tree, a
city where tall buildings scared the young children,
a tiny little maggot that burrowed deep – you could see the veins clogged by the waste
–
–
–
–
– the lonely house wife thought about Elvis, faint memories of his hips and his hair,
the things it did to her when it was all moving in synchronicity
hot sweats in the afternoon while the children were at school learning about mountain ranges and Jesus Christ our saviour
her husband wore scuffed shoes and had sock marks around his ankles
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SOCK MARKS AROUND THE ANKLES
(possibly prison slang for sand bars on the rump ?)
I DUNNO—I FAILED FRENCH VAUDEVILLE IN SCHOOL
I KNOW–I KNOW DRAMA IS DRAMA
BUT CROSS-DRESSING AND OVERDRESSING
AND UNDRESSING FOR ROMANCE WAS TOO MUCH
THE WHOLE MARRIAGE SCENE
LORD HAVE MERCY
WOMEN FROM THE BROTHEL
WITH FISH HOOKS
PRAYING (preying) ON THE NEED FOR SEX
A REPLACEMENT MOTHER
A BABY MAKER
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I failed French
textbooks covered in wall paper, the stench of coffee from tiny cup, to much for my young mind to comprehend,
vaudevillian nastiness about the teacher
animal kidneys inside a milk bottle, rumours of inappropriate stuff
– far removed and distance from it all, miles from the centre I heard the rumours –
my baby maker is there in all but name
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Bowie and Bing Crosby around a roaring fire –
– role models and wife beaters
– reinvention for the price of a cheap meat pie
there is a reason for the yellow teeth
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always a sense of something
part of the it all but somewhere on the edge
– abdominals become pectorals – hair one muscle and a shit load of sinew –
– your dads lessons were hard fought and medals worns
you deserve this
unlimited output
punch through the tumour through the barrier through the lines
ignite the flarf
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———————–IGNITE THE FLARF
all lonely—didn’t want to marry a female cartoon
all the substitutes couldn’t carry on a conversation
the vocation of unhappiness with no end
Swedish hormones—they come in a crate
a Swedish Maiden crate
winking leads to trouble
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sexual walking—cryptic rubbing
Noah was warned about keeping his head above water
sky people—foreign correspondents bleached beyond white
eyes that don’t seem like eyes
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conversational mumblings
that you can’t understand
Swedish meatballs – during winter IKEA will house the homeless –
choruses of disapproval from the right wing –
new table under your arm you join an endless queue
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cryptic walking sexual rubbing
things confused
– people seamlessly seem
to replace other people –
foreign correspondents act like they have some insight,
some details overlooked by familiarity –
Noah felt weighted down
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WHAT NEEDS WERE PULLED AND HARASSED ON THE ARK ?
a need to understand destiny
GOD COULD PACIFY LIFE
THE BOOK OF LIFE CLOSED FOR SO MANY
PRESENT-MINDEDNESS NOT ONLY CAME TO A HALT
—IT VANISHED
ONE COULD QUESTION THE INTELLIGENCE AND COMPASSION
the Ark on top of bottomless confusion
—————————————————————————-
—————————————————————————-
conversational poetry is a series of disclosures
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CONVERSATIONAL POETRY
IS A SERIES
OF DISCLOSURES
*what are they designed to afford the reader ?
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the sexual implications of “Swedish meatballs”
plural balls——-hanging downtown ?
fully aggrieved poets throwing stones at the library
with all the old crap in the library
who had need of new prose ?
fresh ideas in moving literature
DADDY
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ashamed to move the Swedish meatballs
the puzzle of Lower Man
one instantly thinks of the Kennedy presidency
sexual poverty
more and more out of control
dirty keepsakes from the Holocaust
no one survived
poor little Marilyn Monroe
the complexity of her breasts and snapper
I washed her by hand
when I was young
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inner life and the constant bob as the Ark floated out of control
unhinged inside—-death and murder outside
they say that God cussed
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got a Christmas card from Emily Dickinson
no corners in her mind—round corners ?
sexual kittenishness all the way
*peeing in two streams
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the kennedy limousine was sold online – owned by an unknown man, bought through a third party
– he paid people to find DNA on
old leather
– drives it slowly on a Sunday afternoon
– presidency just an X in a box
out of control on the other side
and captured on film
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THAT SPECIAL DRYNESS IN THE BACK OF KENNEDY’S THROAT
THE SOUND OF GUNFIRE—MINDS RUNNING FULL TILT
HUNDREDS OF CAMERAS CAPTURED SHADOWS LENGTHENING
GOLDFISH AND OTHER SMALL PETS PASSED AWAY WITH THE SEASONS
EACH COMMENT WAS A FINAL TESTAMENT OF THE DARK ENIGMA
*comments: crowded and disordered and sometimes pointless
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THEY CALLED HIM “THE EMANCIPATOR”
WAS HE A TOP OR A BOTTOM OR BOTH ?
BIOGRAPHICAL LINCOLN ONLY 47 WORDS
TIED UP SO EROTICALLY IN THE NIGHT
THERE WAS A LOT OF TERRITORY THERE
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——–the permanence of guilt
the glory of Living Scripture
never living up to that glory
horrendous things in childhood
imponderables
roughshod
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got a Christmas card from Marie C
sent 12 years ago – heavy with radium – a bent corner and a picture of a donkey –
it throbs Geiger counter erratic
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HAVEN’T HEARD FROM MARIE C FOR AGES
SHE WAS CONSTANTLY TELLING ME THAT ONE THING
WAS NO MORE MIRACULOUS THAN ANOTHER
THAT EARTH WAS JUST A TRASHPILE
FROM HEAVEN
POETS PRODUCE A NEW PRODUCT
FROM WORDS ON THE MARKET
GIVEN MATERIALS FROM DICTIONARIES
AND BACKPOCKETS OF SAILORS
A POEM IS A PRODUCT
MADE FROM ALREADY-PROCESSED MATERIALS
*just this morning a lady at the coffee booth said that she was game
for some intense no-motion sex (what a challenge)
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FROM THE DAY OF HIS BIRTH
TO THE DAY OF HIS DEATH
WHAT A BIZARRE WASTE
MODERN BIOGRAPHERS
MISS THE POINT
*why was the Son of God not a real boy-a real man ?
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people were asking for a larger secretion
subsequent secretions
agents were calling this “questionable”
people could no longer swim for the floating wildlife
what was killing everything and everyone ?
——Harry Truman and Truman Capote both dead
both were wearing flotation devices
a diluted world of floaters
famous people who die wet
pull out the scrapbook, Johnny Boy
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a lot of territory
like the ocean, most of it undiscovered
unexplored
47 points on a compass
the biography was written backwards from death to the honeymoon
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Marie C was in hiding
she knew they were getting close
– she wouldn’t walk down the street unless she was in disguise –
dressed as a 6foot black man she alluded glances from detectives hiding –
on this trashpile we conjure new worlds from old words
create the product even if there is no demand
*the woman in the coffee shop offered to crush my beans – she wrote her name on it
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King of Rain and the King of Mud
chapter headlines from the biography
– no relevance to the trajectory of the path
– missed the point, a wrong turn
it’s all part of the adventure
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THE GUYS AT THE POOL HALL SAID THAT SHE WROTE YOUR NAME IN SMALL LETTERS
———————————————-grade school humor——————————————————-
ANYWAY, SHE MENTIONED THAT SHE KNEW YOU IN A LIMITED SENSE
THAT YOU SEEMED REDUCED TO AN INNERMOST SOLITUDE
SHE GUESSED THAT YOU HAD DARK IMPULSES
THAT YOU WERE A POET WHO MADE MERRY
THE FACT THAT HE LIVED IN A CAGE
(TOO HEAVY FOR ME)
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some people say, “what if the bride arrived at the church naked”
others say, “what if the groom arrived at the church naked”
bit by bit—the reader takes measure
spellbound by nudity
but nudity can and often does disappoint
*a dishonest man stands in the shadow of a honest man
*a nice cup of tea at the source of the Mekong River
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life seems to constantly be crumbling
amateur acquaintances
illicit meetings
secret letters
rooting around romance
shovels to the soil
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naked in front of a mirror sends shudders down spine –
we never look like we think –
naked church leaking roof
– we lie to ourselves daily
*four clicks up the Mekong Delta, the best war
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the pool hall was growing into cobwebs
dust on wood
green baize – your name finger painted in chalk on the blackboard – balls of colour with different values –
blackballed at the annual meeting
she wanted to rewrite your life story –
something more than letters on a screen
eight foot deep inside a full stop
a black hole
(TOO HEAVY FOR ME)
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they wanted to bring in scaffold to hold the edifice up –
it was agreed at a meeting yesterday –
they couldn’t afford another life to crumble
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ALLEGIANCE TO WORDS
BEYOND THE SCAFFOLD
BEYOND THE LAW AND RELIGION
BEYOND MATTHEW McCONAUGHEY
AN EGG SITTING ON A WALL
“NEVER ASK ANYTHING OF YOURSELF
UNLESS YOU KNOW THE ANSWER FIRST”
FUTURE THOUGHT CANNIBALIZED
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POETS OFTEN SPEAK OF THE WILD HUMAN URGE
PLOTLESS THOUGHT—THROWING THE KNOWN AWAY
INTIMACY—OUT THE DOOR
ADRENALINE ALL THE WAY
JOHN F KENNEDY IS IN OUTER SPACE
LIKE JESUS HE NEEDS NO PROTECTION
THE PRESIDENCY OF THE PEOPLE
THE PRESIDENCY OF OUTER SPACE
ASSASSINATION AND WORSE
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JOHNNY BOY AND THE HERCULEAN HONEYMOON
————————————————————————-
A THOUSAND THOUGHTS ABOUT AVA GARDNER
COURAGE IN ACTION
20/20 GROIN SIGHT
MAGAZINE ARTICLES ABOUT IT
THE LONG HARD LOAF
——————————-
THE QUASI-TRAGIC BUSINESS
EKING OUT A TINY MEASURE
OF LUST
*the wife’s unforgiving code
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works stored in a library under M for prosperity and the future –
McConaughey bangs his bongos – a morse code of sorts
secrets and clues everywhere and hidden – the secret door way in the laundromat that’s been hidden since ’52
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interviewing writers………..reviewing their work
asking paragraphs personal questions…….watching them sweat
as if they were in the sights and I was ready to squeeze the trigger
how difficult it is to be clear-eyed and unsentimental
—————————————the wrong side of town
desperation everywhere
playing house with reality
condom machines
in the bathroom
of the Laundromat
(birth control or disease control ?)
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SHERLOCK HOLMES WAS OUTSIDE YOUR WINDOW THIS MORNING
————————————————————————————————–
SMALL TALK ABOUT FATHERLESS HOMES
DOWN AT HOOKER-CITY
THEY LIKE TO RUB YOUR FACE IN IT
GET ALL THAT NEIGHBORHOOD JISM ON YOU
MAKE YOU WEAR IT LIKE BIRTHDAY CAKE
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DID THEY TEACH YOU THE SIGNAL REALITY ?
—————————————————————-
WHAT SHAKES THE FOUNDATION
AND RATTLES THE WINDOWS ?
LIFE REALLY HAPPENS SOMEWHERE
ATTEMPTING TO REGAIN IT
HOSPITALS CUT OFF YOUR CANCER
THEY BURN IT AND FREEZE IT
AND POISON IT
IF YOU’RE LUCKY
IT BECOMES A SECOND CRIME
IT DOESN’T TAKE LONG
FOR SOME LOUSY THING
TO CLAIM NUMBER ONE
*as a baby you didn’t actually resemble anyone in the family
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YOU NEVER MENTION WORDS BEST SUITED
FOR ADAM AND EVE
OR WORDS THEY TOSSED OVERBOARD
FROM THE ARK
BREAK-NECK WORDS FROM YOUR HONEYMOON
*or the week you spent at that summer camp—
the Swedish Academy of Detection
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OUT ON THE STREET, POETS NAVIGATE THE CONSEQUENCES
SOME ARE CHAINED TO PARAGRAPHS
OTHERS REEK OF URINE-SOAKED CLUSTERS
FLARF NUTS LISTEN TO ALLEN GINSBERG
THE STRUGGLES OF PHONEBOOK POETRY
REMORSE IS SHARED AMONG THE VOTERS
THE WORKERS AT THE BOXED-LUNCH FACTORY
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THE PHONE RINGS CONSTANTLY
A LONELY DETECTIVE
AN OIL RIG WORKER
FROM THE TURNPIKE COMMODE
COPYCAT POETS WANTING ADVICE
HABITS READY TO BLOOM
HABITS HAVING SURVIVED THE WORSE
HOLDING WARM HANDS
MORAL BOUNDARIES
PHYSICAL EXTERIORS
COUPLED WITH THE INTERNAL
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NOT ONLY ARE THEY SCREAMING FROM HELL
THEY ARE DRAGGING OTHERS ACROSS WITH THEM
FLARF IS THROWING OUT THE EXAGGERATIONS
EVERYTHING GONNA BE OKAY
BURGEONING SURPRISES SONNY BOY
NAMELESS DEAD NOT IN THE GROUND
DISQUIETINGLY NORMAL POETS
NEVER ATTEMPTING TO REPRESENT LIFE
NEVER WILLING TO TRANSCEND ADULTRY
*missing persons and cheating wives
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A HANDS-ON TYPE OF POET
ETHICAL FAILINGS ON THE STREET
CURIE HOUSE STONES GLOWING
CHRISTMAS TIME AND PRECARIOUS ANTICS
JOHNNY BOY AND HIS CRAFTINESS
HORRIFIC IMAGES FLYING OUT THE WINDOW
MS NOOK AND CRANNY AND A STRONG ARM
*no one blames Frankenstein—the villagers needed to be rehoused
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FLARF LIKE A COMPLEX MUSICAL COMPOSITION
INTERTWINES
THE SMELLY STUFF WITH THE FRESH BAKE
PEOPLE AROUND YOU HAVE CHANGED AND DEVELOPED
RESPONSES
PERHAPS EXPERIENCES—PERHAPS DRUGS
YOU WERE ALWAYS UNCORRECTED PROOF
WITH YOUR TAPED ON WINGS
AND CODPIECE
*stay clear of self-defeating distilled poetry
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no questions were ever asked that didn’t have a hidden meaning –
probing paragraphs
lie detector used to be someone’s hand on your heart as they asked questions…
is this your real name?
do you know Emily?
Birth control or disease control?
– set answers and the pattern of multiple choice questions
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jism earrings were never a thing
– face masks that make you look 15years younger
– available on tap at the orphanage
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foundations shake like loose teeth in bleeding gums
crippling meth addiction treatable with more drugs
– fighting fire with fire
burnt ends
as a baby you were born too soon
thick hair
you looked like your neighbour
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the words washed up on shore
no message in a bottle
nothing on parchment
just words and the waves
let the surfers sort them out
Adam and Eve had no use for words
they couldn’t read no education at the garden
no concept of tree
apple or snake
futile
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TV listings flarf
horoscope flarf
lonely hearts flarf
local news flarf
letter from the school flarf
biographical flarf
car maintenance for Ford Mustang flarf
NASCAR rules flarf
Pink Floyd flarf
hallmark card flarf
the last words of the executed flarf
tombstone flarf
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screaming a thousand screams from houses that look like tired faces –
– a thousand boots tramping to hell – dragging weights of guilt and fear and presents never given –
they said he was dead when he was buried – in the ground with a name
but he was alive
in a coffin with words
wooden teeth splintered on bone
*the missing person was missing for a reason
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WALLED IN BY FEARS AND PASSION
TEETH THAT CONGRATULATE THEMSELVES
FILL UP THE SILENCES AND THE SPACES WITH POETRY
MANY TIMES I HAVE ASKED YOU TO TAKE THINGS INTO CONSIDERATION
HERE IN FLORIDA THE SKY ISN’T SO LARGE—THE STARS DIM
EVERLASTING LAZINESS IS THE FOREPLAY OF WEAK MINDS
——————————————————————————————
——————————————————————————————
“IN A COFFIN WITH WORDS
WOODEN TEETH SPLINTERED ON BONE”
what would readers think—you in your coffin in the dark
slowly eating yourself ?
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WRITE AROUND THE SUBJECT MATTER
PERMIT THE READER TO EXERCISE THEIR IMAGINATION
many times on the walk to the market, readers asked me to write around the subject
(PRECONCEIVED IMAGES—THE ODD ASSORTED SHAPES OF THE ROLLING STONES)
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I KEEP THINKING ABOUT CROOKED FINGERS
READERS TRYING TO SELL ME PERFUME FROM FRANCE
BLINKING LIGHTS IN THE CITY AT NIGHT
THE SMELL OF CONCRETE
*an impotent co-worker who claims no happiness just 7000 pounds of tension
his blue door no longer opens
tug-of-war with knob hell yes
every word in the dictionary he addresses
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you said that “home” was just a lodging and eating place
but what about all the celebrities ?
THOUGHTS ABOUT RESOLVE
PERCEPTIONS— FEELINGS
FRONT DOOR, BACK DOOR
HALF OF LONDON
the night school of life
faces turn away
stereotyped
*famous poets refashioning each other
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intertwined like flat shoelaces
a toe tipped in the bad a finger dipped in the good –
sides of a coin*
flying to close to the sun
embrace the flarf man
embrace the Otis man
embrace the leviathan
Lincoln las cod piece disinfected and up for sale**
*future kids will laugh at the notion of metal money
**a pine was found in the cod piece and DNA extracted
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walled in by skin
thick like pie crust
flaky, a body where things disintegrate – we were not meant to last* –
the sky fenced off into grids, clouds sponsored by top ten corporations –
lazy foreplay
half finished crossword
*she tells me this everyday
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couldn’t possibly write around the subject matter –
the subject matter is to large
Montana skyline
no walk to the market there
a 3 day bus ride to get milk
on the ark the animals stared at posters of the Rolling Stones
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who selects the subject matter?
a committee?
a TV panel show?
remember when I told you nothing was off limits?
cast your night wide
Ahab of poetry
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PEOPLE IN THE CIRCLE LAUGH ABOUT INSTINCTUAL GRATIFICATION
—————————————————————————————————-
——————everything we know comes from productive imagination——–
all history comes from the same source
very few true-isms—-hand in fire hurts
VALID REALITY BASED ON FOLKLORE
FAIRY TALES—-GRADE SCHOOL FLARF
BEAUTY AND HAPPINESS PROMISED
CAVEMEN IN THE WORK-WORLD
————————————————
————————————————
POETS IN THE CIRCLE WISHING THE RIVER OF TIME
WOULD DRY UP
GOD IS ON THE OTHER SHORE
WILL HE/SHE WELCOME US ?
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“remember when I told you nothing was off limits ?”
everyone in the village is hiding
life on a poor man’s budget
SALT-MAN SALT-WOMAN SALT-CHILDREN
THE RIVER WILL DESCEND
BE PREPARED
THE CRYSTALS WILL BLOOM
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ONE MUST WRITE AROUND THE SUBJECT MATTER
THE LOST FORM IS EVERYTHING
I SAY THAT THE MOON IS SILLY
OTHERS CLAIM IT TO BE TREACHEROUS
————please stand with me in the shade
petrified poets should go home and sleep
PETRIFIED POETS SHOULD GO HOME
go home and sleep with beauty and happiness promised
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I SAW YOU TRYING TO TRACE YOUR WAY BACK FROM THE GRAVE
YOUR FANCY GRIDS DISSOLVE IN SLEEP AND DEATH
WHAT UNITES HUMANS WAS STOLEN
AND MUST BE RETURNED
——–ONE NEED NOT TEST THE RIGIDITY OF THE LAW
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————PEOPLE IN THE CIRCLE———————–
THE REASON REALITY STINKS:
people are content with approximations
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incompetent coworker
missing a finger
assembly line accident
700lbs of failure
gnarled finger like a branch of a winter tree
– the fragrance wasn’t French
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PEOPLE IN THE CIRCLE (people in the circle)
ACCIDENTLY STANDING IN A STAR WARS LINE
THINKING IT WAS THE ADDICT LINE
PEOPLE TALKING ABOUT SEXUAL LOVE
AND DESEXUALIZED LOVE
AND WHERE WAS I ?
OH MY GOD, I HEARD THE TERM, “GENITOFUGAL”
AND WHISPERS ABOUT KILLING PEOPLE
AFTER THEY REACH A CERTAIN AGE
POSSIBLY TOP SECRET
OR JUST BEING COURTEOUS
I AM ANCIENT
I STAND OUT
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CAN YOU THINK OF ANY REASONS
ONE WOULD HOLD THEMSELVES BACK ?
THE AIM WOULD BE WRONG
ARROWS NEVER STRIKING THE TARGET
WHY WOULD AN INTELLIGENT ANIMAL
BE CONTENT WITH APPROXIMATIONS ?
THINKING THE ARROWS CROOKED
—SATISFACTION MODIFICATION
*poetry about instinctual constraints
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to play—the free play of human creatures
people in robes talking about “vital needs”
what events provide an opportunity ?
at lunch with lights off at work
hands only no tongues or dongs
questioned to orgasm
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I SAW A SIGNED STATEMENT THAT YOU
———JOHNNY BOY———–
WERE CONTRIBUTING YOUR PART
TO THE FUNCTIONING OF THE APPARATUS
*I find it difficult not to think about the monsters
who find pleasure in dehumanization
*GLORIFY DEHUMANIZATION TODAY !!!
(children should be prepared to harvest adults)
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emotional by-products
a rainbow of unhappiness
the WIFE really loved that damn finger
performance issues
mechanically
*the doctor made mention of an obstacle
necessary to swell the tide
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TWO CARS THAT CAN GO FASTER THAN THE OTHER CARS
———PREGENITAL AND PREHISTORICAL———
NASCAR GETS CAUGHT UP WITH ISSUES OF THE FATHER
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INDIVIDUAL CONFLICTS IN THE STRIVING FOR GRATIFICATION
POETS LEAVING DROPS OF POETRY BEHIND
ARTISTS TRY TO CAPTURE PRIVILEGES OF WOMEN
INTERNAL SECRET ALLIANCES
BIOLOGICAL TENSION
SELECTIONS OF MOOD
AND REFUSALS
FATHER WITH AN AXE
PUNISHING MODES
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IN THE SHADOWS THE CONSTANT VOICE
PLEASURE IS NOT FORBIDDEN BY GOD
TAKE ADVANTAGE IN MODERATION
LIFE’S FLEETING BLESSINGS
*no recollection—no remembrance
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the sins of the father run on to the son – oil slick reflections of rainbows, hazy in the sun
prehistoric philosophy
caveman manners
the bored of going round in circles
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the moon is an illusion
grey dream land that hangs as carrot spurring us on
beyond Earth
into a vastness
petrified poets at the wrestling
petrified poets at home throwing darts at words stapled to the wall
the beauty promised but never received
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all paths lead back from the grave
a full stop
what was stolen was lost
never to be replaced
lonely at Christmas
pain is a cleanser
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the grids dissolve
lines merge into lines
no shadows where there’s no sun
-the rigidity of prevailing thought
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mathematics isn’t content with approximations
IT MUST BE EXACT
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FLARF LESS THAN A PENNY A POUND
BAGGY SWEEGER PROUD
JOKING DISGUISES THE LONELINESS
POOL HALL TURMOIL AND UNCERTAINTY
A BOTTLE OF LEMON RUM
UNHEARD OF IN AMERICA
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PLURAL MATHEMATICS
OFTEN THOUGHT OF AS THE BARS
ON THE PRISON WINDOW
*yet the rats travel freely
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nothing is forbidden
you just need to block out the constant voice telling you otherwise –
I tried to read the words of God but I’ll be honest
I got bored
even on his birthday I got bored
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plural mathematics
the scales of jazz
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the first day of the floods
towns shut down
rats swimming freely
as the prisoners watch the world outside flair by
at the auction they couldn’t shift anything – armless bidders at the front
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that lady poet wrote about the honeymoon
disappointment
and the python
with nervous paralysis
or was it just plain methodical ?
*ladies at the Laundromat were exchanging stories about defloration
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RETALIATORY DAMAGE ON HIS BIRTHDAY
a better instrument of torture could HE make ?
SISTERS WITH GUILLOTINES
DENTURES IN THE VAGINA
—————FOLKLORIC FEAR
flarf poetry about rectal perspiration
and anatomical distinctions
phallic fingers on the turnpike
hermaphrodites
androgynes
multi-sexuals
evolutionary biologists
*CONCOCTING FLARF FOR PRINT
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PROLONGED PERIODS OF BEING “GROWN UP”
BARRING DETOURS ON THE LIFE LINE
ARRANGEMENTS AND ROMANCE
UNLOVING LOVES AND TOSSED BABIES
BODY CONTACT SIGNALS AMPLIFIED
SEARCHING FOR LONG-LOST PSEUDO-NIPPLES
MUSCULAR KISSING—OPEN MOUTH HAPPY MOUTH
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the discarded sick, the spinning underwear
nylon lights at the laundromat
customers scribbling on pads
cups of powder
a desire to cleanse
a baby in a rocker watching clothes tumble
outside: a bank robbery, a car crash, death
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the deluge is here
homes submerged – off the trajectory of where we thought we’d be –
detours on the road to romance – it’s all online now
swipe right
fake pictures
biography covered in lies
wet kisses from dry mouths as we go under
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ROMANCE WITH AN ILLUSTRATION OF THE TRADITIONAL MALE SYMBOL
SEX WITH ITS PAIN AND VIOLENCE—-RETALIATORY DAMAGE PROMISED
THE CAGED BIRD LAUGHS AT “BROKEN BY ARTIFICIAL MEANS”
FEMALES NEVER LAUGH AT THE ANATOMICAL DISTINCTIONS
———– CONFRONTED WITH A PENISLESS STATE
PHALLIC FEVER SETS IN
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SHE
BICKERED RELENTINGLY WITH THE LOCAL POETS
PENNY-PINCHING PENSIONNAIRES
WHO SAT AT THE CAFE UNBRIDLED
AND FREE OF SOCKS
DRANK LIQUID PIE AND CUBAN COFFEE
A SMALL RADIO SOMEWHERE PLAYED TUTOR GUITAR
ON SATURDAY ONE COULD SMELL OYSTER PIE
NO BOILED SHOE HERE, MY FRIEND
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THE SMELL OF HOT CHESTNUTS ON THE STREET
POETS WALKING IN NO SPECIAL DIRECTION
BAGGY CORDUROY TROUSERS
GAY HANDKERCHIEFS
DISAPPOINTMENT WAS UNKNOWN
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IMPORTED SMELLS—FIR BRANCHES AND GINGERBREAD
SO MANY THINGS UNSPOKEN—CRISSCROSSED THOUGHTS
ECCENTRIC POETS AND LONELY PENSIONNAIRES
POCKETS FULL OF RECORDED EXPERIENCES
NEW BEGINNINGS WITH ENDLESS STEAM
THE NUMB LIPS WERE GONE
ACCORDION KISSING MOMMA
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musical tutors rebel
tired of hearing one note played badly for hours on end
– pensioners, some with memories, others blank slates
– the small radio
– fresh oysters, salty and bulbous
feels like a woman’s part
– hard to swallow like a boiled shoe
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ALL POETS ARE LACKING IN THE MEANS OF SUBSISTENCE
THE FAMILIES OF POETS DEVOID OF THE COMFORTS OF LIFE
CHILDREN LIKE RATS WITH SHARP EYES
THE BOYS STUCK IN A ROUTINE OF HUMILIATION
THE GIRLS TRYING TO RATION OUT THEIR VALLEY OF PLENTY
EACH DAY ENDED BY BEING OVERPOWERED
AND BRUISED BY THE PARAPHERNALIA OF LIFE
*cut and scratched by the nails of Satan—HIMSELF
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THE HUMAN WORLD HAS NEVER PROVED TO BE TOO MUCH
POETS WANT THE JUNGLE WORLD—THE DRUMS AND THE JAZZ
DARK CITY—WHERE ONE EITHER PERISHED
OR BORE LIFE AS BEST ONE COULD
*so little grows from the hard soil of poverty and mischance
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the wolf was the hostile father figure
he ate you not out of hunger
but to put a stop
to libidinal urges
toward your mother
inclined to take risks
you popped off your head
and rolled into a village of women
they immediately made you a body
a mannequin with proud manhood
inexhaustible
you were in constant demand
each day became a long and terrible education
having no physical sensations below your neck
you became a remembrance addict
a hero of redeeming the past
instinctual values changed over time
you communicated with mathematicians
you produced volumes of conversational poetry
*BEING HIGHLY PLASTIC AND PLIABLE YOU REMAINED CONSTANT
*THOSE AROUND YOU WHO USED HUMAN CEMENT STARTED FALLING APART
*THE MATHEMATICIANS WERE BORED WITH NUMBERS
*POETRY TRANSFORMED YOUR HYSTERICAL MISERY INTO EVERYDAY UNHAPPINESS
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happy days
before disappointment
halcyon days of Morris dancers and maypoles
(peculiar British pastimes at the village green)
poets on benches dedicated to people of the past
rivers roll by
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boats sailed into shore smelling of new fragrances
-fruits from island were they didn’t know maths
– crisscrossed the world for personalities
new beginnings from tethered endings
in the island of no maths topless woman look out to sea
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libidinal urges towards mother? peeking in the doctors files?
surprised you could read his spider writing scrawl
the body they made me was practical but not aesthetically pleasing – bits of wood and twigs and animal skin –
it was temporary excited many
– the hinged appendage bought untold joy but after a while it needed replacing
*conversational poetry, you said
I say, a constant flow
back and forward
(ricochet poetry)
– a fondness of numbers while others her bored
– a prefix you can’t understand
I was temporarily transformed whereas you were permanent, out there in the open
a target on your back
out in the wide open
you were a target in crosshairs**
**never an apologist for flarf
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——————–FLARF
CLEAR MOMENTS OF EMPLOYMENT
THE COLOR OF THE SKY…THE SWAY OF THE WIND
UNEXPLAINED ABANDONMENT OF A PAINSTAKING CREATION
LIFE IN ONE’S OWN IMAGE…BIRTH BY SELF AND NO ONE ELSE
————-POETRY WRITTEN ABOUT PRIMITIVE TERRORS
THE MOTHER’S REJECTION OF THE BABY
THE DAUGHTER’S VIRGINITY
—————————–READY-MADE WORDS
WORDS TO DILATE UPON
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—–INSURMOUNTABLE FLARF
SPECULATIVE EYES AROUND THE CAMPFIRE
A TORRENT OF FLASH IN A DARK WORLD
NATURAL AND ADOPTED TONGUE
BLASPHEMY
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self birth self producing with
no need for that messy act –
no honeymoon required
standing alone in a world that devours its young – primitive fears neutered by computer games
death count increases
– sugar stained teeth
no distinction between TV and mother
this is
a one off
there is no caveat
money deposited into my account by anonymous contacts with patchy back stories and no fingerprints
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A NATURAL TOPIC OF EPISTOLARY CONVERSATION
PECULIAR POETRY DAY AFTER DAY
PSEUDO-MEDICAL TWITTERINGS
THE COMPLEXION ON DETECTIVES
THERAPEUTIC REQUESTS TO SATAN
BATHING AND BLOWING A NUT
NEVER LEAVING THE HOUSE
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RIDICULE A DETECTIVE ABOUT HIS COMPLEXION
THEY STAND ON THE STREET
I SCREAM AT THEM,
“RETURN THE AFFECTION, BUDDY” !!!
BOUGHT SOME MORE PHONES
BROTHERS AND SISTERS
SAME NUMBER
PRIVATE TALK IS IMPOSSIBLE
UNMONITORED CONVERSATION
IN YOUR DREAMS
I TALK THE BROTHERS AND THE SISTERS
NO ONE KNOWS THE NUMBER
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YOU THINK
THERE’S NOT A TRUCKLOAD OF DISAPPOVAL
ON MY HABITUAL BEHAVIOR
LAWYERS BEG ME TO HIDE IN THE DARK
THEY FROWN ABOUT MY TROUBLESOME CONCERN
I TEASE THE DETECTIVES
TRY TO MAKE THEM SPEAK
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THE TAKING OF PARTS IN LIFE
JESTING UNAWARE OF THE DANGERS
ACQUAINTED SINCE BIRTH
THE SPIRIT WORLD STRONG
CONSPIRING TOGETHER
TO FURTHER THE CAUSE
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ACCUMULATED GLIMPSES OF MEN TOGETHER
THOUGH IT HARDLY BEGS ASKING
SUSPICIONS DON’T GO FAR ENOUGH
———NO BODY HEREABOUTS———
MATTERS MANAGED BY HAND
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flarf upon flarf
upon flarf – a whole anthill to climb – flarf
upon flarf – an insurmountable pile of dead eyes* –
our tongues are the same
but different words for the same thing –
language evolves
maths stagnates
natural blasphemy in a sunless state
*campfire tales of masked killers, the smell of burnt marshmallows
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all topics are natural
think about it
a whole life spent indoors with voices on screens
leaflets through the door speaking of cheap pizzas and salvation*
twitterings, hash tags and bombs in the desert
*everything comes at a cost
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I have the phones
not smart ones
just plastic ones with numbers
I get mocked by the gentry ’cause I can’t keep up
had the same number for 12 years now (0788 97..etc etc)…
strange calls at strange hours,
a voice that tells me “THIS IS CONTROL”…
…this is on transcript
she told me to call her anytime but never left me a number
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AN INSCRIPTION ON THE GATE:
—MATH DOES NOT EXIST IN THIS REGION—
YES, THERE WERE CHANGING SEASONS
LARGE BLACK BULLS ON GREEN HILLS
A POND FULL OF FISH
POETS INTERWEAVING TIME
POISON ADMINISTERED FREQUENTLY
WAFER LIKE VIPER SPIT
GEOGRAPHICAL SWEATS
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IT WAS NOT I WHO FOUGHT AGAINST CAESAR
THEY WHO REST IN THE SUNLIGHT
ASK OF THEM THEIR VICTORY
SPIRITS LAUGH AT THE GROUND WE PLANT OUR FEET
SPIRITS LAUGH AT OVER-EGGING THE PUDDING
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geographical sweats at the top of the incline
looking down everything looks like dots on paper,
scratches on wood
nearer the clouds and further from the sea
–
the target has moved
it’s in the open
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she left clues in hotel rooms for tired business men to find
– engines still hot days on the road – tired businessmen reading news from a new town
same news as at home but different
– things merged and blurred
– small clues in drawers
finding yourself married to a lazy lover
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———CLUES LEFT IN A CONTINUOUS SEQUENCE———
MEASURED IN MINUTES AND HOURS
A STRONG FLASHLIGHT FOR FORWARD MOVEMENTS
LINEARITY AND CIRCULARITY SHAPES IN THE SHADOWS
EACH WORD BUILDS A FORWARD MOMENTUM
POETRY THAT CIRCLES LARGE HILLS
(who has time to be fussy picking and choosing words ?)
SOME MEN FANCY DECAY—DILUTED SOUP
COARSENED BREAD ON TWO LEGS
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—————-DOMESTIC CONTENTMENT
SOME SPECIAL BOND OF TRUST
THE ACT OF TREACHERY VIOLATES
OVER TIME
GESTURES OF ANIMAL-LIKE FEROCITY
SORROW THAT PRESSES THE HEART
THE HUNGER GNAWING
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TWO HOURS OF SEARCHING THE BIBLE
NO MENTION OF CANNIBALISM
ONLY THOSE WHO TURN TO GOD IN EXTREMIS
WHO WHISPER THE NAME OF MARY
WHO TRY TO FORM A CROSS
OVER THEIR CHEST
IF ONLY
GIVEN A SECOND CHANCE
THE SPIRITS PRESS FORWARD
“YE WHO ARE BREATHING”
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the target has moved
to embrace its shade
a final meaningful connection
a poet was quoted,
“inescapably intellectual”
*choral celebrations—the sin parade 2016
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no time for the clues
crosswords filled in with names of dead actors
sudoku grids filled in with 1s and 0s – angry red*pen screaming off the page –
forward motion cuts through inertia
large mountains circumnavigated by woodsman
NASCAR drivers make corn circles in Nebraskan fields
*red means death
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as a small child you were taken to shop
a hand holding your hand
“SOURCES AND ANALOGUES”
one text calls to mind other texts
standing with friends making urine designs
recurring narrative circles in Nascar
people in the stands make meaningful connections
memories before the dinosaur days
embryo on two legs
embryo with no tail
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OUTDO CONTEMPORARIES !!!
A WARNING THAT OTHERS WANTED TO LEAVE ME BEHIND
THREE-PERSONED POETS WITH CRIMINAL CUTLERY
HYPER-GRAMMATICAL GLOSS
NEW TESTAMENT SHADES
THANK YOU JESUS
*worn out Swiss Guards (protect the pope and poke the poet)
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small child left in a supermarket
lost in aisles of ingredients and
hanging signs
not accustomed to natural sunlight
friends modelled from fruit and vegetables
– back of packet flarf
– ringing tills
first time he saw a dinosaur was on a box of cereal
missed his mommas breasts
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DINOSAURS ON CERAL BOXES
A PRECURSOR TO CHRISTIANITY
ABRAHAM LINCOLN LOGS
WITH A DUSTING OF SUGAR
*beyond human comprehension
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THE TRINITY OF FLARF
THREE-WORDED DEITY OF POETRY
(JUDAISM, ISLAM, and FLARF)
ONE SUBSTANCE IN THREE EQUAL PARTS
A MYSTERY OF LITERATURE
NOT FOUND ON A CERAL BOX
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criminal cutlery
a prong on a fork removed for bad behaviour
the prong less fork = the sign of a recidivist
patterns repeating themselves
over and over and over
patterns repeating themselves
over and over and over
patterns repeating themselves
over and over and over
patterns repeating themselves
over and over and over
patterns repeating themselves
over and over and over
i lost a full stop
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I STAND ALONE WITH THE “TRINITY FORK”
WHERE ARE THE OTHER ADHERENTS ?
WHAT HUMAN BEINGS ARE CAPABLE OF UNDERSTANDING
AND THE MYSTERY OF THE THREE-PRONG FORK
NOT MATHEMATICS OR SUBATOMIC PARTICLES
*while others turn things over in their heads—I REFLECT
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SOGGED WITH HUMANITY
NO ESCAPE
CHALLENGING SITUATIONS
VIGOROUS DRAMA
THE WEAK FALL HARD
*rutabaga boiled whole—no primary source information given
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free dinosaurs with each box of cereal – a miniature version
expands with water –
gremlins in the machine
lost somewhere on the way
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CRITICAL INSIGHTS IN FLARF USAGE
GAIN THEIR FULL FORCE
ONLY IN THE STUDY
OF DINOSAURS
ASSOCIATED WITH CERAL BOXES
FLARF THEORY vs FLARF THERAPY
REVISIONISTS ATTRACT DETECTIVES
CHRISTIANITY PREACHES CONTRADICTION
TO THE PRIMARY INSTINCTS
BUSHMEN STAND NAKED IN THE PLEASURES
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—————THE CREATIVE LIFE TAKING PRECEDENCE
A 30 MINUTE HISTORY OF HARD KNOCKS
COLOR-CODED FLARF
PETTY SQUABBLES
A BLEND OF BEDROOM EXALTATION
AND COMMON MADNESS
BEING QUIET IN THE MOTEL
SO YOU CAN HEAR
THE OTHER COUPLE DO IT
SOUNDS SPEAK FOR THEMSELVES
FOREIGN-TONGUED DEVILS
GRATUITOUS FINGER
IN THE BACKSIDE
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artificial limbs hang from real bodies – fake hands and plastic pens – automatic writing
hidden message
detectives search for the cypher
– hotel room conversations
-the sound of a flushing toilet
EXPEL THE WASTE
pulling the finger out and unconsciously sniffing it
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a well regulated militia to defend boarders against dinosaur intrusion –
– gun nuts going mad –
collect six coupons from cereal boxes send of for metal death machines
– advocates of flarf
– advocates of the right for bears to bear arms – animals with guns
the future is somewhere over the horizon –
strange bedfellows at the poetry convention
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theme at the poetry convention:
PLEASURE OF THE FLESH DETERIORATES
misogyny—prostitution and in the backroom
violence against women and young men
words in the hands of artists
sordid subjects with artistic detachment
bourgeois beauty—flowery yet functional
clinical observations on one hand
novelistic contrivances on the other
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NO OPINION CAN EVER BE ABSOLUTE
driving home from the convention
late at night
I turned the headlights off
at an ungodly speed
fellow poets were suddenly
insisting on correctness
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thinking about using artificial limbs to jump-start an automobile
fake hands to attach the cables to the battery posts
Frankenstein and other erotic proclivities
spectators surrender
warnings about artificial light not limbs
flickering black-and-white
all-consuming automatic writing
prospective bedmates at the convention
free pickings in the poetic jungle
lively-literate holes
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impolite to keep a woman waiting
actual intercourse not simulated
no room for doubt
penetration repeating itself
over and over and over
penetration repeating itself
over and over and over
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THE MAN BEHIND THE WHEEL OF A CAR
RACING AT 100mph IN THE DARK
IS HE A MAN OF IMAGES
OR A MAN OF WORDS ?
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REPUGNANT—FLARF BECOMES AN OBJECT OF SHAME
FRACTUALISTS AND DIVISIONISTS AND MATH JUNKIES
ANAL-SADISTIC POETS GUILTY—TIGHTENING
PASSIVE SUFFERING—WINDOW SHOPPING FOR ROMANCE
POISON WORDS AND THOUGHTS AT THE BUFFET
MISAPPREHENSION ABOUT LARGE WOMEN
ON THE MOTEL BED WITH TWO-CYCLE RHYTHM
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TRAPPED IN THE SKULL
THE BRAIN COULD NO LONGER GIVE ORDERS
FLARF BECAME A STRUGGLE
BETWEN ORAL AND ANAL
BEING MOLDED INTO A WOMAN
CRUSTACEAN BOY
*intoxicants first—abbreviated initials for the sex acts
———–ALLEGED CONTAGION OF POETRY
———–FRAGMENTARY OBSERVATIONS
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maths is absolute the strength* of truth in numbers
driving blind and counting seconds
life on the edge
behind the convention back alley poet bitch fight
“HOLD MY PEN”
*if numbers are strong and solid maybe they should make building from them?
empty gift shop of blunt pencils
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THE GIRL WHO WORKS AT THE GIFT SHOP
WAS ONCE AN ADULT ENTERTAINER
BLUNT PENCILS ARE OF LIMITED USE
DETECTIVES OFTEN FOLLOW TRAILS OF PENCILS
INHIBITIONS AND TABOOS IN PUBLIC RESTROOMS
WASHING THE HANDS IN THE WASHROOM
AN OLD MONOPOLY BOARD ON THE FLOOR
CIRCLED ITEMS ON THE BOARD
DEVIL WORSHIPPING MONOPOLY PLAYERS
HORSEY RUMPUS ACTIVITIES
WATCHING A GRAINY FILM OF THE GIFT SHOP GIRL
REPETITIOUS AND BORING
A CRESCENDO OF AMOROUS NOISES
BLUNT PENCILS WITH HER NAME
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THE LANGUAGE OF EXHAUSTION
POETS RUNNING IN ALL DIRECTIONS
UNLOCKING HOPE—RESISTANT TO CLOSURE
PEOPLE CRYING IN THE HALLUCINATORY WORLD
ALL POETS LIVING ON THAT STREET
OVERRICH—FINDING MYSELF A MOCKERY
RESTRICTED IMAGES AND VERBAL MATERIAL
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spare limbs sold at the second hand store –
we stole fingerprints
we stole spark plugs
all consuming to the point of suffocation
a bombardment on all fronts
the words
the sound
recharge the batteries
sharpen the knives
waking up in the dark
what if this was all there was?
security at the convention were big
black
boots and scowl
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and over and over
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he is a blur of atoms
words and images
sound and vision*
the Doppler effect with arms
*bowie the birthday boy got there first
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flarf men go into hiding
identity changed
low profiles
rejected by family and friends now seeking kinship in the lowest of places (Kentucky, jazz convention, NASCAR races, the gun club)
a secret plan to built a flarf ark
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I’m constantly trapped in my skull
a round about constantly rotating
no exits to the left
no exits to the right
I always see bears
the black bulls
the constant struggle between form
we all have choices
sad men moulding ear wax into sexy effigies
observations from the observatory (but only on a clear night,
no stars tonight in dark town)
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PEOPLE TRYING TO ATTACH TIME TO THE NIGHT
I LAUGH, I CRY, I PAY TO HAVE THE HOLES PLASTERED
A HAPPY LITTLE LIFE
MIDNIGHT AND POETS LISTEN FOR FRIGHTFUL NOISES
GEOMETRICAL DARKNESS
JOHNNY BOY AS GULLIVER
AMONG THE LILLIPUTIANS
EARS SUBTLE ENOUGH TO HEAR
THE FOOTSTEPS OUTSIDE
ILL-HANDLED BRIDES
ON THAT SPECIAL NIGHT
DETACHING FROM LIFE
HUSBAND—BE THE MASTER OF THE VOYAGE
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detaching the umbilical chord from the new life, swollen breasts
lactating – be the man now
put away childish things
– frightful noses distressed in the dark with no bearings –
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TODAY BASED ON AN OLD “LIFE” MAGAZINE PHOTOGRAPH
INTERIOR DECORATORS ON THE STREET
RECIPROCATING ADVANCES
SCRUNCHED-DOWN
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DRAWINGS OF VISITORS
—OFTEN HAND-PAINTED
COMMERCIAL DETECTIVES
RIGOROUS TRAINING OR NOT
DETECTING FALLACIES
MAN-MADE THINGS
NUMERICAL
TONGUES
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GREAT PUNISHMENTS:
(+) EXPULSION FROM THE GARDEN OF EDEN
(+) NOAH’S FLOOD
(+) TOWER OF BABEL
(+) OBAMA
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MANDATORY SUBJECT MATTER FOR ASPIRING POETS
MOUNTAIN DWELLERS AND FOLKS FROM THE FOOTHILLS
THE POET GAZING ABOUT—SPEECHLESS
INNOCENT OF SHAPING LANGUAGE
WORDS (BROKEN VOWS)
IN THE COFFIN FULL
ONE WORD ONE WOMAN
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NEVER ABLE TO OUTPERFORM
POETIC RULES
TO FOLLOW THE COURSE
A PRIDE OF OWNERSHIP
MINIMAL EXTRAMARITAL
MODERATE EXTRAMARITAL
AGGRAVATED ANXIETY
EMBRYOLOGICAL
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mattresses on every corner
disease sleep apparatus
homeless people classed as “street furniture” –
preparing for months in the bunker we sought tinned goods
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with all the +’s like a
a nine sided dice
role playing oddness with lonely men
darkened rooms –
a total lack of female companionship like Adam when Eve went to the shops
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NEVER ABLE TO OUTPERFORM
POETIC SEDUCTRESS
ASKING FOR SIN
STRANGLED AND MAULED
BY LUST
AMONG THE CONSPICUOUS POETS
SHE—WITH HER MISSING FINGERS
MILKING THE MENFOLK
HELPING TO DEPLETE
THE VITAL ESSENCES
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LIKE ADAM
WHEN EVE WENT TO PICK UP
THE PERSONAL MESSAGES
FROM LORD HIMSELF
“SCIENTIFIC PROPRIETY ON SPECULATIONS”
GOD WRITING A SOAP OPERA
HORRIFIC NEW EXTREMES
ARYAN YESTERDAY—ARYAN TOMORROW
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strangled and mauled by snakes
and serpents
– leaks no one can plug
the clues are there
the gaunt men-folk
matchstick thin
disappear through the horizon
Lazarus, again
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MATCHSTICK THIN NEARLY BLANK
COMPLEX RELATIONSHIPS
NEVER BEHIND A TREE
LIKE IN THE MOVIES
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CONTRADICTORY NONSENSE
ALL THOSE VALENTINES
SOAKED IN EMOTIONAL SUGAR
STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESSES
CAUGHT IN TACTILE-VISUAL WORDS
ONE CANNOT ESCAPE MODERNISM
TO DISTILL INFORMATION
TO PUSH IT FORTH
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one can only question the virile intellect
of street furniture
champions of reality
sodomized membranes
the weight of another body
awkward attempts to become free
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expressions of his masculine potency
————————————————-
expressions of his masculine potency
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issues of sexual dominance and submission
attempts to take control of identity
endless photographs
of yourself
paying tribute to the inner monkey
material contained in wartime tins
outsiders in their plastic gear
Americans in “conquest” condoms
masculinist posturing on television
the errors of education on display
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FEVERISHED EROTIC-ARTISTIC OBSESSIONS
THE STRONG ARM OF THE LAW
PRIVACY THEFT
THE ROCK LIFTED
WORMS AND BUGS
LITTLE TURD POSTURING
SUBDUED LIGHT SORRY
GUNS DEFLECT ATTEMPTS
*when they ran out of bullets they started throwing the guns
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BABY, THE MOTIVE FOR THE PROCESS
INVOLVED IN LOVING
A VERB HAVING TAKEN ON AN IDENTITY
AN IDENTITY BEYOND ITSELF
*multiplemichael pointing at emotional continuities
BABY, THE MOTIVE FOR THE PROCESS
INVOLVED IN LOVING
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OLD AGE ROBS ONE OF EVERYTHING
NO LONGER WELCOME IN PHOTOGRAPHS
——would you please step over there——
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give them butter not guns the pacifists demanded – no care for the erotic
or the auto-erotic
– just bean counters tallying up used armaments
empty shells
husks
deflected attention for the privateers
we lost someone today
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a suggestion of a vulval portal
————————————–
do they lose their power to speak ?
gender-identification
or a terrible wound ?
people in the back whisper
“primordial sources”
points of passage
with their restrictive boundaries
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head hidden behind the trunk
peeping out
a few seconds here and there
peeping out to spy on the detectives
cartoon hiding
running on tiptoe
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vinegar soaked valentines produce
different types of tears
– they tried to validate their feelings
– they wanted you to answer the questions
– the pure distillation of the here and now
to much thrust pushed it over the edge
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awkward attempts where you can’t struggle free
– compressed under a weight you can’t see –
this is a reality
these are the membranes that will carry you there
– she spent all her money at the poet convention watching
the street furniture outside
move of its own accord
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pictures spread out
a collage of a thousand pictures of yourself – small bits
of a whole
-stuck together
fragmented outside
inner monkey thinking of those days before evolution
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people in kitchens dropped cups
people dropped pens
everything was on the floor
sunlight ruined the film
(can you photograph age?)
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terrible suggestions
three forms of identity* required at the entrance
wound or entrance?
exit point of passage across all four planes
*did you scratch off your serial number?
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heroic efforts from one so small
when ladies pick cars off crushed children
no line that can’t be crossed
legs like scissors
cut up poetry will again have its day
everything feeds off itself
everything turns full circle
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LEGS LIKE SCISSORS
FROM EARLY ERECTION DAYS
I ALWAYS LOVED LEGS LIKE SCISSORS
DAUGHTERS OF BLUE BLAZERS AND RED PANTS
ASKED TO LEAVE THE HARBOR BY THE HARBOR MASTER
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WHEN ASKED ABOUT THREE FORMS OF IDENTITY
I SHOWED THEM A .357
.44 MAGNUM
SOME AUTOMATICS—PROBABLY BROWNING
MEANDERINGS OF FINGERS IN THE WOUND
GOD LEFT TRACES OF HIS HAIR THERE
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NOT ONLY CAN ONE PHOTOGRAPH AGE
IT IS NEARLY IMPOSSIBLE NOT TO PHOTOGRAPH IT
*beaten and flagellated by old age every single day
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——we lost someone today——
I GET UPSET
BY PEOPLE WHO REMEMBER
HAVING REFRIGERATOR MAGNETS
OF HIM WITH ORANGE HAIR
A GENEROUS FELLOW
IN A WORLD OF CRIMES AND CRUELTIES
ALWAYS HAUNTED BY THAT VILLAIN, JAGGER
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turn left at the harbour exit and the ark sailed on to line where the sun hits the land
two sharpe knives lashed together = cheap mans scissors
serving a purpose
evolution will soon see our thumbs extend and thin out
IMAGINE THAT
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INNER MONKEY TAKES JIVE DRUGS
A GIRLFRIEND LIKE A MUFFLERLESS CAR
A PRO WRESTLING MOMMA
IN THE SACK
DRIBBLING WITH A BOX OF KLEENEX
HAND-ME-DOWNS IN THE BLACK JAZZ WORLD
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dirty harry with a magnum phallus
dirty for reasons children wouldn’t understand
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fridge magnets were stuck to the head of the NASCAR crash victim – metal plates in his head – everyone had a favourite memory of him, a favourite sound, sun glasses bigger then dinner plates
no point pin pointing him
no point pinning him down
elusive like water
the opposite of maths
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VINEGAR SOAKED RAGS BETWEEN THE LEGS
ATHLETIC GERMS LEFT THERE BY OTHERS
SOILED BATHING SUITS
SOILED UNDERWEAR
JUKEBOX DANCING AT THE ROLLER RINK
BACKSTROKES AT THE COPACABANA
A REAL HOWLER MONKEY IN ESTRUS
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vinegar keeps the flies away
i spilt the beans
to anyone who wanted to listen
the closed the roller rink down, gangs of boys outside the air a catcall of wolf whistles
unwanted pregnancies and missing molars
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scissor legs sashaying
mommy in hot-pants and fishnet
making rent money outside the Laundromat
more interested in Capri pants than the Ark
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suddenly the glue-sniffing teenagers
were crushed by an automobile
tacky dramatizations in class
there were no heroic efforts
or daydreams about superhuman strength
bright pink plastic flamingos—YES
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dreams of ‘superhuman’ is considered fascist –
people equate it to Nietzsche –
(a man who sleep with his sister- confessions in secret
not heroic in the slightest )
the glue sniffing kids now listen to computer music and forget today’s class rooms antics eager to impress miss big tits two doors down
I was human then, not super
hair human
*my fridge magnet collection has just tripled in value
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MY SERIAL NUMBER:
TRANSYLVANIA
stiff-necked, starchy-collared poets
the ground floor of three inches
trying to explain to the doctor
claustrophobic penis
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bound, gagged, confined by old age
camera men in wheelchairs wanting more
constant changes and oscillations
like Saturday night at the Curie home
*never get tired of her skinned-rabbit centerpiece
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I DON’T SEE THE FUTURE ANYMORE
NONSENSICAL REALITY
SPERMY FETUSES OUTDOORS
LOW-BUDGET BIRDS
THE LACK OF TAX MONEY ARTICULATES
QUAVERING FALSETTO SOUNDS
*TINY TROPICAL FISH STUCK IN THEIR BEAKS
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wheelchairs clamped
stationary pensioners
living through memory –
when they were born you couldn’t photograph old age
THERE WERE NO CAMERAS
just sketches
oscillations driven by machines not desire
I feast on the centrepiece
nightly
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PRAYING NO ONE MENTIONS THE SWIMSUIT COMPETITION
———————————————-SCUMSUCKING
*first time I ever employed the word, “scumsucking”
IN A FIFTYISH WASHED-OUT SORT OF WAY
HOCKED-OUT POET…..STILL ATTRACTIVE
THE KING OF SELF-ABUSE
HAND IN HAND WITH A WOMAN
WEARING A CROTCH-FREE TEDDY
*praying no one mentions the cock-length contest
EVERYONE ASKED JIMMY BUFFETT TO STOP SINGING
GIRLS WORKING THE GYMNASIUM
TWISTED UNHAPPY MARRIED GENTS
THICK DUMBFOUNDED JISM
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the future is elusive
always just there
at the tip of your fingers
just ahead of you (like your nose)
fast approaching like a juggernaut exotic birds with deplorable habits – expensive cigarettes hanging from beaks
a servant bird carrying their fish
I lack both money and imagination
(I had a dream I was in a band called Johnny Boy and the Vertigo)
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DISPENSE WITH THE PLEASURES OF CHILDHOOD
PHOTOGRAPHS OF JUVENILE DELINQUENCY
DEPARTURES FROM THE NORM
FAMOUS SPIDER FARTS
LIVING REMINDERS
*repeat offenders
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to probe the roots of the problem
visible spots of decay
excess weight
——-young men at the pool hall
talked about random fornication
people guilty of flarf
suffer bad translations
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CRO-MAGNON POETS IN THE BACK
OF THE POOLHALL
ABOMINABLE AND MASQUERADING
SLEEVELESS FLARF
LEATHER BOOTS
AS OLD AS THE MAGNA CARTA
UNMUFFLED FLARF
REACHING OUT TO WRENCH
HAND GRENADES FROM
THE MIGHTY HIGH HORSE
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sexes are kept rigidly apart
retarded on the dark side of the tracks
the nursing home throws their dead over there
damaged deerskins and car parts
FLARF in jigsaw pattern
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characters are vividly real
CRO-MAGNON or not
fringe delinquents
adolescent poets
areas of life that young readers should not confront
moral issues involved in the production of poetry
rethink FLARF
refeel FLARF
often—poets are forced to relocate
chased off—poetry steals back
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feelings before the birth
after the death of the baby
out the speeding car window
THE MIGHTY HIGH HORSE
there be no easy answers
sadistic hand grenades
restless and pliant
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the pleasure of childhood
– dirty face
– stained clothes
– crawling on all fours
– personal bum cleaner
in all childhood photos the only thing that hasn’t changed is the size of your eyes –
before juvenile photographs there were pencil drawing and cave painting
return subterranean
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bad translations
a letter in the wrong place
the difference between fuck and duck
– at the pool hall secret transaction (under triangular light) –
surely 56% of a young mans life should be random fornication?
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cro-magnon mans poetry is primitive morse code
fists hitting things
– faces, rock, animal carcass
we moved onto better things
– colouring books and bad band practise
unfettered flarf will catch you off guard
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a nice man offered to take us in the backroom
and show us an extension to FLARF
I said, “no thanks, I like my face—I like my life”
journaling seeds are not that rare
appropriate activities for an adult diary
I read independently
I rarely read in pairs
I watch dvds
where females pantomime
make satisfying noises
I enjoy listening
I pretend that I understand
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I remember the teacher asked you not to draw
any more pictures of your home life
other students drew images
of funny things their dog would do
outlines of clouds in the sky
colorful birds—scary cats
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——invented spelling——
neighbors with pitchforks in the front yard
angry parents—having seen the artwork
daddy with his giant pink frankfurter
you titled the piece “GRUNT PIG”
*critical/evaluative responses damage the young poet
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reality TV shows set in haunted homes watched by millions
glued to plastic chairs –
damaged flowers
someone
somewhere is keeping notes
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you were singing about the repercussions of your actions
poets with asparagus in their teeth—imaginatively clean
encouraged to experiment
walking to or away from FLARF (?)
observable sex drive
memorizing
thoroughly learned
the first minute was the best
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Native American white horse on the prairie
ghost apparition
a thick wedge between…
born attached to the chord
screaming blood
miscarriage hand grenade
your words will be used against you (call the lawyers)
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back room antics
away from the spies
your rebuttal was fine –
– sometimes it’s not the act, just the noise associated with it
I understand that I pretend
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some kids drew a still life: knife, fork, a bottle and a cork – others drew plane wrecks,
lonely planets and blackstars
one drew plans for a warehouse to store old Valentine cards – the teacher had lipstick on her teeth
bad drawings with no scale
a four foot man with size 14shoes
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hours spent picking at the asparagus debris – couldn’t smile till it was gone – a grin couldn’t be coaxed –
– best keep quiet
silence in the cancer ward –
unconscious competency
learned the actions through acts of repetition
(twice on Sunday’s)
left work in the dark
the hours before a blank
they provoked, prodded, demanded new lines, new scenarios – they want more then people stepping on rakes
more than pies in the face
changing tastes after the chameleons death
swollen on the shore of every night
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A RAKE SLAPS THE HEAD
A PIE IN THE FACE
CHRISTIAN THEATRE READS COMFORTABLY
EYES DIRECT THEMSELVES TO YOUR CHARACTER ZONE
NAKED IN A NATURAL FLOW OF LANGUAGE
LIKE THOSE MONKEYS IN THE HOT SPRINGS
YOUR SOFT PENCIL—IS IT MENTAL OR PHYSICAL ?
CLOSE ANALYSIS—DETECTIVES EMPHASIZE SPECIFIC WORDS
RAISED OR LOWERED—I SPELL THEM ALL
YOU STRESS PUNCTUATION—IMPORTANT PAUSES
EMOTIONAL TONES FREE OF DARK TOWN JAZZ
INTERPRETATIONS OF BLACK MEN IN A WHITE WORLD
CUING THE CHALK FOLKS IF THEY FAIL THE FORMAT
*circle the key words and later we’ll work on it
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A MULE KICKED ROBERT FROST IN THE HEAD
AND HE WROTE YOUR FAVORITE POEM
OH MY——THE USE OF LANGUAGE
A CREATION OF MOOD
POETRY WITH SIMILAR THEMES
COMMON EXPERIENCES SHARED
SOMETIMES IT IS JUST TOO MUCH
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STANDING THERE IN HER UNDERPANTS
SHE SAID, “CIRCLE THE PARTS YOU WANT TO EXPLORE”
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standing, facing a mirror
read those circled parts expressively
——————————
props and costumes
facial gestures
bodily motions
—————–
deal with “what if”
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I’VE STARTED GROWING A LAWN IN THE CANCER WARD
THEY SAY THAT I CAN’T SMOKE BUT I SMOKE
THOSE STUPID PILLS I FLUSH
THE OTHERS I SNORT
I’VE STARTED GROWING A LAWN IN THE CANCER WARD
THEY SAY THAT I AM DEAD
I CANNOT ARGUE DEATH
CREATIVE DRAMATICS
DO REQUIRE CERTAIN SKILLS
TO BE SURE
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———————–the puppeteer is not in view of the audience
not comfortable in the jazz club
all white—-a small bird out of the nest
subtle character differences
glued to the beginner’s table
people laughing at my head
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WHEN ASKED ABOUT TONIGHT
SHE OFFERED ONE OBAMA APOLOGY AFTER ANOTHER
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the critic denounced the “character zone” – those that can’t teach
they say
– plot devices and promises of more used as distractions
its not what’s on the stage it’s what’s in the wings
no commas
full stops juts free flowing
the spirit of jazz reeks through desk town
*do they have castles in America?
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the mules head framed on a bar room wall – homage payed
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the pen was empty so she traces circles in the air
a long finger with red painted nails
it was derivative
it was sexy
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o mirror on the wall
facing me
staring who’s looking at who?
costumes away at the cleaners
everything is a prop
I practise my lines over and over and over
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several means of dealing with the problem
before actually succeeding
the mirror is a prewriting prop
feelings are borrowed from remembered books
romantic stories end at the same time they begin
proceeding through sex clockwise
*descriptive language on ebay
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CASTLES IN AMERICA ?
one thinks of children on the beach
sand packed building blocks
a crazy red fox
so hungry
class distinctions
are out the window
any attitude of superiority
is a violation
watered-down FLARF
intricate mathematics
harnessing the hunger of the red fox
Navajo, Sioux, Iroquois
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Caucasian discrimination in the bar room
Latinos are served discount soda pop
human beings are curious
the Old Testament may not be old enough
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FLARF full of stained glass windows
flying buttresses and piers
ribbed vaulting
you often gave the lady at the library
your lunch money
she was a bird-watcher
or a stamp collector
a tiny patch of hair
above the birth hole
her Pocahontas
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YOU CALLED IT YOUR DRINKING GOURD
and I did see a wide-ranging group
drink from it
lips around the gourd, Johnny Boy
your seed in a glass jar on the Mayflower
wolves threaten those on foot
unfriendly folk everywhere one goes
a sick baby flying through the night air
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a secret little piece of FLARF
kidnapped by Bingo Brown
forced to gravitate toward trouble
joined in misfortune
pocket knife camaraderie
girly magazines and lips around the gourd
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we don’t know is queer or quaint
rather than simply different
fingers and toes
the correct number
is not superficial
akin to aliens ?
endless fun and adventure
never a moment of employment
money from the money tree
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fot tapping with a small bird on your knees – the privilege go being born white
golden spoons with the firs meal of the day
banned from jazz clubs
membership ripped up
people point and laugh
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apology and tears
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she stole her backstory from magazines found in dentist surgeries
borrowed and stolen
made up and designed
nothin real
things on eBay arrive
opposite to description
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you don’t have castles
just forts
manifest destiny built from wood
– deep splinters inside history
somewhere out west
white people burn on the beach next to castles of sand
a flag marks the territory
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a secret little piece of FLARF
waking up cold in Holland
the smell of wooden shoes
in the fireplace
*neighborhood fingers and toes
lips around the gourd
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AT A PARENT-TEACHER MEETING
YOUR IDENTITY WASN’T IN THE CATALOG
YOU WERE A LIVING SPLINTER
BUT NOT A SPLINTER IN HISTORY
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THEY WIRED THE TEETH OF JESUS
NARRATIVE FLOW SLOWED
THE ROCKS DIDN’T SING
THE SINNERS DIDN’T SWAY
PREHISTORIC PEOPLES ARE ERASED
POETS MEDDLING IN HUMAN AFFAIRS
HUMAN ENDEAVORS ARE CHEAP DIVINE VACATIONS
HUMAN SKINS AND HUMAN TONGUES
SUITCASES OF HUMAN DRAMA
THE WORST ANIMOSITY POSSIBLE
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WEIRD MONDAY MORNING THOUGHTS:
(+) WAKING UP WITH A MANNEQUIN’S LEG IN THE BED
(+) BEING CONCERNED ABOUT WHAT THE WIFE WILL SAY ABOUT THE LEG
(+) SPENDING COUNTERFEIT BILLS—WEARING GLOVES ?
(+) I CAN THINK BOY DETECTIVE BUT NEVER FEMALE DETECTIVE
(+) FAILURES TO METAMORPHOSE
(+) BUYING CARIBOU MEAT AT THE MARKET
(+) BUYING A STRADIVARIUS VIOLIN IN DARK TOWN
(+) SENDING A GET-WELL CARD TO THE WORLD’S SMARTEST DETECTIVE
(+) DO SLOW READERS HAVE SLOW SEX ?
(+) THE DELIGHTS AND DISASTERS OF ROUGH TOILET PAPER
(+) HAVING A FATHER WHO IS A VENTRILOQUIST
(+) LEARNING TO CONTROL SILLINESS
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POETRY FROM THE CAVES OF KENTUCKY
BEING BOTH MASCULINE AND FEMININE
WALKERS WITH BOTH THE PHALLUS
AND ITS RECEPTACLE
SELF-SUFFICIENT
BEGETTING
“TO BE A FATHERLESS SON”
*I am the father that I never knew
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ONE MUST DRIVE FAST THROUGH DARKNESS
FOR DAYS POSSIBLY WEEKS
TO REACH THE THOUGHT
—A FATHERLESS SON—
* the goal of Satan—return to a time before females
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the twin boy child
one hand clean
one hand dirty
one hand talks to God
one hand is the Father
————–home is the sight of guilt deflection
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THE DICTIONARY IS FULL OF ERRORS
convert the injurer
turn the other cheek
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readers are quick to switch to neuter gender
life fails to measure up
the bond with Father seems weak
love is no longer therapeutic
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the dark colors of being a child
in a home of straps
strapping into bed
strapping to the bed
strapping the head
—————————–from matriarchy to patriarchy
—————————–be reckoned through father
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poetry about the birth canal
the need for large-brained infants
whispers about upright posture
about copulatory positions
enhanced pleasure
turning off the electronics
pushing hominid evolution forward
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WEIRD TUESDAY MORNING THOUGHTS:
(+) ORNAMENTATION OF THE PENIS
(+) A PROTRUDED TONGUE PROVIDING PENILE SERVICE
(+) A COMPLETE LACK OF SEXUAL CURIOSITY
(+) OFFENDERS IN SLEEP ASKING TO FEEL THE TEETH
(+) CRIES IN THE DARK EMITTED IN LESS ENCODED FORM
(+) HAPPY TO RECOGNIZE THE ACOUSTIC CUES OF JAGGER
(+) DVDS OF MICROSCOPIC INTERCOURSE
(+) GESTURING WITH THE HIND LEGS—SQUAT DANCING
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Carbon dating of Genesis
younger than the ark?
strange confluences of time
biblical references of black lemonade circled in pen as proof of something
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the lady at the gas station had a finger missing from her right hand –
there was a story behind this she told part time lovers
the radios sent signals
small entrances & tangled hair
FLARF is the custard pie in the face
the final humiliation
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those that drank from it experienced visions, sickness in the stomach, tingling below –
– chapped lips
below deck on the Mayflower hid a sect of hooded men who never spoke until they reached shore
imagine they arrived on jet skis and speedboats – there would have been cries of WHICHCRAFT
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feelings shared under the duvet
triangle of torch light
red lips and the gourd never far away
bingo brown is serving 15 to life at the big house – he took camaraderie to far
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cave drawing so of alien beings were found in India, Mexico, Africa
a strand* that connects
what is the right number of fingers anyway?
the man with scissor legs
trombone arms
fun to be had
*i have a reoccurring dream I am pulling a strand of thread form my mouth
an endless strand of thread that I keep pulling
i asked the doctor what did it mean and he just scribbled in a pad and asked me about my mother
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i burnt the catalogue but tried to retrieve it ashes but that blown away
history and keep them
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-what do clowns do when the make ups off?
-the broken spine of a book
-waking up in the dark and she’s not there
-sending postcards to people named after famous TV stars
– sketching car crashes in crayons
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– monkeys in a cage
– dancing in the street video with no sounds
-the confusion of the male mannequin (no penis, smooth)
– trying to add the numbers but always stopping
– i looked under the microscope
–
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begat yesterday in a bed of flowers
the accountants told me my life was in the minus columns
– the showed be debits against my actions
i was self sufficient for joy
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the librarian stole her favourites books
the library became an empty husk of dusty shelves
a shelter for homeless folk
– human errors
the wealth of data was so vast the detectives needed more detectives
remember the push pins?
remember
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love is a four letter word
like word
like foot
like head
like hand
parts of the body were off limits but he wouldn’t listen
weakness through the male line
distorted DNA
at the university of Florida they are experimenting on the people no will miss
faces on milk cartoon
can we ever measure up Michael?
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Jesus teeth stained with the horror
he just wanted to get closer to the sun
stifled narrative stumbles along
(heard on a song : there will be people turning up in canyons. There will be people getting shot in Salt Lake City)
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moving from a to b
life in transit and everything in a box –
•discard old shoes
•burn unwanted gifts that have hung around to long
•eBay possessions
move on move on move on move on
traces of your DNA will remain
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testing irony
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Test received
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a tune once heard in a bar
poets standing on pedestals
girls and boys looking up
at their curls and junk
school teachers with parted robes
begging young sailors to practice math
odd evangelism could be employed
a happy afterlife worth the bucks
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mechanical witchery
nicknames for the poets
$27 a hour to have the pedestals polished
the floor covered with evangelical words
the older ones are in tunics
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when a poet falls over dead
—do they retire the pedestal ?
( a place where bad men whip horses )
I had trouble sleeping on the train
a trip of a lifetime
no one had luggage
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it was a happy village
hermeneutic vaginas
intercourse constantly translated
hierarchies out at the curb
bare-chested children
sprang from peepholes
brides were open on both ends
a loving wife—a gatekeeper
a spitting hermeneutic weapon
foreignness in furs
rocks collected through life
androgynous
vaudevillian
already opened
but still rather tight
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a tune once heard burrowed in
– it’s constant echo is always there, a low throb
I threw away old things
on the fifth day God invented socialism
–
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them old words
that old time religion
carved in tablets and left scattered
all over town –
– paper chase, never ending
the cleaner sweeps up
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the egg arrived and everyone was expected to know their duties
the poets were to make long, unbroken sentences
thousands of them were already stacked near the walls
odd, voyeuristic words were circled in red
methods of manipulation—abilities to enslave
endless borderlines between the repugnant
queer had a toy star and tried to act in charge
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the train used a symbol
the growth of a nation
pesetas for firewood
bar stools for poets
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AT NIGHT
ADMIRING CRIES
OUTSIDE THE BEDROOM WINDOW
RECEPTIVE SOULS COVERED IN SWEAT
INTELLECTUAL POETS WITH SENSITIVE SKIN
THE TWISTS AND TURNS OF FRUSTRATION SLICK
BEGGING TO BE TOUCHED AND STROKED
AN INDECIPHERABLE NEED TO BE POKED
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——————–someone in the windowless part
of the structure left words on the kitchen table
to be put in a proper order
like a jigsaw puzzle but not a jigsaw puzzle
possibly words from an unreliable narrator
or a con-artist poet known for criminal footnotes
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I’ve been to that village –
velcro vaginas lost in translation
– always a thin line when discussing consent –
chest thumping children feral & wild, disappear at dusk
skinny xylophone ribs
clothes made from rope
make up can only conceal so much
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mathematicians employed to look at the structure of sentences
– do they follow rules?
– are there fractals like snowflakes?
– each sentence dissected and examined
duties assuaged and coded
( I was clueless at the back waiting for direction I offered up stanza after stanza,
sentence and paragraph I was give a number & told to wait next to the cigarette machine
)
manipulated like clay
fired in the kiln so all lines fixed in places
the egg was only ever mentioned once, repugnant
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you and that damn military flashlight
the egg has found discomfort
in your attempt to place his gender
you do know that he is an autocrat ?
although crude
his genitals have been re-drawn
do not stand close to him at the urinal
and as far as #2
go across the street
withdraw completely
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poked like a raging fire
hot coals and smoke
– receptive souls like sponges soaking up residue and words –
she had her own Bermuda Triangle
frustration at all things that are instantly indecipherable
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it was never down the drain
IT WAS TO THE DRAIN
a gentleman with a sizable sum
writing about love as if it were work
love that had to be finished in a hurry
love that knew no time of night
*the daily washerwoman with the sheets
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—a small circle of appreciative readers—
MY WORDS ARE DONATED IN LOVING-KINDNESS
MAPS RE-DRAWN—ROMANTIC CONCLUSIONS QUERIED
THOSE FANCY PUSH-PINS ON THE FLOOR
SLEEPING OUTSIDE WITH AN ELECTRIC BLANKET
AND A BETTER VIEW OF THE SKY
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ANXIETY DREAM AFTER ANXIETY DREAM
the twists and turns of sleeping frustrated
having never thought
of looking under the bed
(small Michaels crawling there)
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RE: THE NOTE THAT ARRIVED FROM ONE JOHNNY BOY
your personal life exists only in daydreams and your unconscious mind
the night-time dreams are under the command of your stomach
and all the dehumanized clutter you devour
“the chutes may soon get choked”
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I almost fainted when I saw the black dumpling hanging from your mouth
I ALMOST FAINTED
LORD I ALMOST FAINTED
THE BLACK DUMPLING
YES THE BLACK DUMPLING
WAS HANGING
FROM YOUR MOUTH
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the flashlights battery has died
it is now a stem of metal, a glass end, dead bulb
the eggs surface is alabaster, smooth, babies bum, sexless
stood at the urinal
stood at salute
half mast
incomplete
she wouldn’t let me withdraw completely, just a little, just so you could see light visible
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love has no time nor season
no timetable
it arrives not like a train, supposedly on schedule
on dirty tracks
it arrives (in hope) like a heavyweight punch
you expect it
in a hurry or slow and lubricious
give the washerwoman a week off
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with a bedroom the size of a gymnasium
——FEEL THE EMANCIPATION——
unhappy dumplings in marriage
neglect and philandering and drinking in the dark
the smell of neighboring cities on his breath
the smell of kerosene in his underpants
constant folded valentines in his pockets
eccentric sentences about the curve in his manhood
many a time SHE wanted to make a new curve
her inner walls were numb to the old course
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donations left in refuse sacks at the closed doors of charity shops –
nocturnal poets creep in shadows
– at the burns all the extra flesh was scooped up and flattened and meshed together and parts were measured and tailored and assigned areas / maps of bodies
(thigh,
the space behind the knee,
palms,
clavicle)
– romantic conquests? A gentleman never tells (but under a pseudonym he will sing like a canary)
the view of the sky obscured by tent canvas
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never ending circles of
anxiety caused by anxiety dreams about anxiety
sleeping and turning
having anxiety dreams
loose teeth
teeth falling from bloody gums
I’ve seen under your bed, the Michaels crawling
closer
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a circle of poets—each one a “by-product”
unorganized sexual instincts
primary locations
secondary locations
as if location were important
gratification like your knee on pavement
the bluntness of the come
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dreams controlled by stomach
the heart just a pump
the brain in soup with wires
Johnny Boy personae
a mask that slips
dehumanised pseudonyms
a different name signed the poems
another the postcards
I tried to find equations, to break it down in fractions but the things under the made constantly disturbed
rattling chains
boogaloo down in dark town
best foot forward
a face likens was drawn by Picasso
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the sharks came
they must have sensed blood
in time with her menstrual cycle
the sharks came
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he walked down the road and noted every number plate he saw –
for my the letters he wrote the first four pages of Gravity Rainbow
and from the numbers he wrote out PI to the 163 place
–
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to manufacture conversations
poetry making circles around romance
a mature woman in her private space
possibly watching clouds
and stomping the ground
her man driving around town
with a keyboard in his dash
trying to negotiate that new heartbreak
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attachment dead and buried
innocent escape
as a funeral candidate
sing along Daddy
cobbled and guilty
a straight-backed chair
at a circle of disappointment
accidental dust in the air
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standing in line at the poisoned meat party
strychnine—cyanide
twitch on the side
a last gasp
baby talk
nonsense
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poetry with no barking dog
one could just float
in silence
free of any perceived-defined
female arena
free of scripted talk
contestants in bed
unrehearsed sex
the television
broadcasting from outer space
rapid kinship with strangers
missteps welcomed as a way
words full of possibility
unfolding—unfinished
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an influential grip
on that menstrual blood
sailors pioneered the use of tie-offs
hardbacks turned to paperbacks
red rags thrown in startled faces
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readers often ask
is that a tight lid on Johnny Boy ?
poetry without serious consequence
to legitimize and reimagine FLARF
Good Lord, Picasso has drawn your face wrong !
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poetry with private departures
and offstage escapes
social norms are out the window
the baby is crying because it is hungry
two days on sugar water
and candy cough drops
any link at home was cut
(rebottled and corked…the baby is quiet)
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DEBTS ARE NEVER ADEQUATELY REPAID
readers governed by fear
fear of the devil, and the burning lake
fear of the wife and her terrible wrath
non-conformism was a joke
what are you….a beatnik ?
too much decay and atrophy
there hasn’t been a literary circle since 1970
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I was there the day
they told Bowie that he had to go
over-crowding—space was too expensive
his bony look found in distaste
health is the new fashion
America wants meat on the bone
BLACK STAR YOURSELF
BLACK STAR YOURSELF TO DEATH
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a loaded gun for EAVESDROPPERS
****fat bullets for EAVESDROPPERS
I WAS THERE OUTSIDE THE ARK
WEBBED HANDS—WEBBED FEET
the interior of the Ark was acoustically padded
perfectly quiet except for God speaking German
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brief period of receptivity
initiating appetite
poetry may be pleasurable
but it never serves pleasure alone
intense pleasure becomes the driving force
instinctually fixed behaviors
athleticism in youth
FLIRTATION WITH WORDS
LEADS TO FOREPLAY WITH WORDS
words become reinforcers
your identity becomes a word
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oh, pretty faced poet with the tousled hair
whisper your syrupy voice in my ear
a moving duo into ecstasies
the scariness of life
in the shadows
the hyena
of life
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BLACK LEMONADE AND BLACK DUMPLINGS
SACCHARINE SINGING FROM GAY LOVERS
GUITARISTS PLAYING IN REST STOP STALLS
MASCULINE DIGNITY WITH THE HICCUPS
SIZE AND DEPTH AND GOD-KNOWS-WHAT
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UP AND DOWN THE AISLES OF THE BATHROOM
VISIBLY DRUNK AND SLIGHTLY DENTED
WARBLING WITH POWERFUL THROBS
NOTHING PETTY OR ARTIFICIAL
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A SHORT JACKET AND STUDDED PANTS
LIKE JAGGER ON BATH SALTS
LONG PAST A LEVEL
OF MERE EXCITEMENT
ATHLETIC STRUTTING
WITH IT STRAPPED
TO HIS LEG
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straight back chair
corset of whale bone
we are all funeral candidates
life is the waiting room
the theatrical wings
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foaming bubbles at the mouth
white like surf on the beach
nonsense gabbling mwahh ggtjdn fwargh
the last seconds seized by total regret as the mountain shrinks from view
just dust floating in fading light
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of all good and possible dimensions
the gaps between the shadow cast
from the wall
where a window should be
I am
just a tourist here
next to an old church shoulder to shoulder with modernity & buildings of glass we see through
I could write a poem as long as this country there are enough words
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the barking dog at the centre of the pentagram was no friend of mine,
no siree he wasn’t
escapee from the ark
no reward
beckoned by promises from strangers – a whispered promised
unfolding
invitation RSVP
*on the honeymoon night five independent judges sat at the end of the bed and scored them out of 10 for artistic interpretation and appearance.
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the backhanded grip
the double hander
a highwaymans hitch tethered a frisky steed
rope marks left
never read the instruction manuals, just dived in and hoped for the best
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a tight lid
compact
in need of lubrication for loosening – a struggle of weak grips & secret handshakes –
night school classes in ark building and animal husbandry
*i went to the auditions to join the Wu Tang Clan
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a popper of amyl nitrate
caught in the stampede of time
honeymoon night
ordinary people are often destroyed
physical violence and then eruption
disembodied…..or so it seemed
the larger wonderland
now boiled down to really private parts
peculiarly painful—painfully open
what if it broke off inside ?
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——STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS——
a shadowy existence in pursuit of itself
detectives and agents using masks and veils
flarf machinery covered with tarp
obstructions to be cleared
oddly picturesque female nudes
over-colored flowers
around the Devil’s mouth
he-goats on drums
sex struck by subtle variations
hardbitten women who tossed their infants
mongrel renegades who raped themselves
cannibals hardly bear thinking of
and schoolchildren reading Robert Frost
flotsam and jetsam and autumn leaves
flying geese and coming spring
having weathered an interstate truck stop
men driven back on themselves
men who swam through drugstores
corrosive Original Sin in body folds
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FIVE INDEPENDENT JUDGES
(+)SUFFICIENCY OF LANGUAGE: luxuriates in language
(+)EXTRAORDINARY RHYTHM: a strong pull, forward and back
(+)INTRODUCTION OF THE HARPOON: a sense of size
A PONDEROUS TASK—NO ORDINARY POKER
———THE PELVIS OF THE WORLD———
instinctive and unashamed…the devine bride
formed first in fright then formed in love
the sting of beast on beast
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————in nomine diabolic————
you are just a tourist here
this land of black lemonade and black dumplings
under a Robert Frost egotistical sky
a place that we are not a part of
no hands in our eyes to grasp
what we see
the maidenhead is broken
the Last Supper is spent
too late to redeem the employees
at the Dollar Store
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I’m not a beatnik
I hate coffee daddio
and can’t click my fingers
fear of bongo drums, man
always baffled how a body of water could burn
literary circle replaced by books clubs about that talk about books about to be filmed as dire rom-coms
Michael, pass me the chardonnay
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meat on the bone at an astronomical cost
– cheaper to fly to space than to get treatment for the common cold
– bowies in space
messages received from space antennas –
*have you heard Bowie in space?
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period
a time of reflection
rivers run red i saw a fish swim
i caught a word one a hook
a big one, a 9 worder
athleticism in youth leads to knees that creak like an old cottage on the moors
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hyena as a spirit guide with the voice go Johnny Cash*
*not my life,
an episode of the simpsons
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one string on his guitar
but it sounded sweet like humming birds in the morning as the sun is just getting enough energy to rise
to rise
to rise over mountains and fields and city streets soon to be full of feet and legs and people and cars, busses, maybe trams, depending,
took a second to think of my folks
then a hiccup
brough me back
here
to earth
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visibly drunk i tried to crawl in a safe
my eldest son grabbed my left leg and told me stay
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jagger is now controlled by a system of weights and pulley inside his hollowed out cavity –
– gaunt and stretched skin
skin like a faded lampshade
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stuck in time
like a midget in molasses
up to his knees
if it broke off inside I’d send in a dog to retrieve it
hungry for a bone
barking like Benji
inside blocking out all of the outside
inside becomes a singularity
my tongue on the tip of her tongue
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five independent judges
• see it from different angles
•have different experiences – marked down for not meeting their expectation –
•reluctant to offer top marks – too much to live up to when they return home
•once seen never forgotten
•the new queen
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UNBUTTONED POETRY
READERS WANTING TO GET A FOOT IN THE DOOR
DOMESTICATING WORDS AS IF THEY WERE WILD ANIMALS
TRANSLATORS AND RETRANSLATORS—BACKHANDED SORTS
PREFABRICATED POETRY FROM A SUFFOCATING ROBERT FROST
WORDS WRITTEN ON PSYCHIATRIC HOSPITAL PILLOWS
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COFFIN-LIKE INTERIOR WITH PILLOWS
THE POET’S HEAD SUPPORTED
BY AN ABUNDANT SUPPLY OF WORDS
THOUGHTS TRAVEL BY WORD OF MOUTH
READING LIPS AND SMELLING FINGERS
REPEATED WASHINGS
AND THEN WITHOUT WARNING
THE WORDS GREW TEETH
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POURING YOURSELF COGNAC
having freed yourself from responsibility
your wife touching coffins at the Dollar Store
a blanket and a pillow—the sleigh in the hole
mental words repeated through the day
Johnny Boy the passenger
carried along regardless
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WRAPPING YOURSELF IN BLANKETS
MADE FROM DARKTOWN COTTON
CONSTANTLY DRINKING COGNAC
DETECTIVES MAKING NOTES ABOUT THE BOTTLES
FLINCHING AT WHERE SOME OF THE BOOZE
WAS PRODUCED AND BOTTLED
DESTINATIONS LIE BEFORE US
DESTINATIONS LIE BEHIND US
I CAN TASTE YOUR BREATH
AS I INHALE IT
SOON YOU WILL BE IN THE SLEIGH
ALL TOASTY WARM
WITH AN ABUNDANT SUPPLY
OF PSYCHO WARD CUSHIONS
YOUR WIFE—YOUR LANDLADY
HAS PAID FOR THE HOLE
AND THE NEAR-CHRISTIAN SERVICE
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WHY DID YOU CALL YOUR RELATIVES “PASSENGERS” ?
carried along regardless—afraid to answer questions
you had abandoned yourself to pleasant feelings
freed from responsibility but not free from drink
very long sentences ending with cognac
extraordinarily long sentences
with a punctuation of cognac
(real men find commas too gay)
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—————–“the safe”————————–
were you wanting to locate soft words and sentences ?
guilty of displaying intricate sensitivity
immigrants with hybrid foreskins
wallets/cellphones kept safe
buried in the turkey neck flesh
*American men often have mustard on their dongs
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in the undertow of history
no use fighting the currents
(cartoon fish skeletons like the ones from Tom & Jerry,
all bone,
empty tin can
crashed car, submerged)
coffin splinters = no rest in peace
eternally fidgeting at the unreachable itch
the itch repeated
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wrapping woven blankets around shoulders
thin like coat hangers –
indigenous blankets
ancient DNA and smallpox traces –
I’m immune to it all, what dis the song say? “I don’t need a raincoat
I’m already wet?” –
– shared bottles
scabbed lips from bootleg hooch
a bit more grown up than black lemonade
ingredient secrets
she almost spat out the last drop but it dribbled down her chin like rope thrown over a mountain precipice
retreat from the detectives view
(they will have to fabricate today’s movements)
retreat
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there is a science of long sentences
streams of consciousness confound the equations, got them brainboxes scratching their heads
DOES NOT COMPUTE
DOES NOT COMPUTE
DOES NOT COMPUTE
punctuation is for school books
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WHEELBARROWS FULL OF PUNCTUATION
BLACK COAL INK PUNCTUATION
SCHOOL MARKETEERS
SELLING
BEANS AND POTATOES
COMMAS AND PERIODS
EAT OR PUNCTUATE
YOU WITH YOUR GEOGRAPHIC FOCUS
YOU—AN HONORARY MEMBER OF YOURSELF
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eat more words
carry punctuation by the bucket
coal finger smudge
–
– smeared like kissed lip lipstick
a gang of one always will argue with itself –
canoe thorough the rapids
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—A BIT MORE GROWN UP THAN BLACK LEMONADE—
POISONOUS SNAKES EVERYWHERE
SPITTING CONTRABAND LIQUOR
STRONG PERSONALITY HOOCH
MATHEMATICIANS DOING CARTWHEELS
YOUR PHOTO IN A FAN-MAGAZINE
IN A TOPLESS MALE BATHING SUIT
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each day a new portrait for a greeting card
Norman Rockwell paints Johnny Boy
being reminded about the nonpublic aspects
of his genitalia
that he should facilitate
other essential activities
of life
drop the sexuality
savor the tension
*casual and anonymous sex—what a joke
*the thing in itself—nothing else
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prowling the streets for poetry
demysticized women
deromanticized women
the sex apparatus on men and women
coated with anxiety, guilt, shame
prayers for animalistic sex
sex stripped of human association
* a compulsive use of genitals
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hissing snakes we cut in half with knives
tomorrows belts
– somersaulting word play
– the brick wall of pure maths
– not the maths of numbers but the maths of signs
possibly scripture
– infinity is a sign
loop like veins looping through our bodies
I created a fanzine all about myself
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genitalia kept hidden behind denim &
pubic tussle
– not the everyday scene Rockwell expected, not the apple pie dream
drop the tension
savor the sexuality
facilitate essential activities, bruised thighs
not a pairing, just a picture
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sex apparatus running low on batteries –
hold the orgasm
we need more charge
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Edgar Allan Poe had nothing to do with the sin of imitation
his dissatisfaction stayed at home
instructed eyes never searching
the house busy decaying
the gold-plated nails
cigarette after cigarette
displeasure up in smoke
evil in the shadows
pockets of black star coins
others left alive to squander
the Bible today but what about tomorrow
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apparently self-revelatory
poetry left by the side of the road
stand upright and look around words
colorful uncertainties like lost umbrellas
endless eavesdropping vaguely biblical
sonnet after sonnet about a man worm
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Edgar Allan Poe—his pallor and weariness violate decorum
his object of desire a woman long deceased
the holes in his roof covered with common words for sodomy
self-portraits of cheap booze and opiates
trembling knees and weak stream
the droop of his head
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entwining imagination and the surgery to break free
playful and joyously erotic thoughts flash past
the floor covered with love poems
this mask of me that you refuse
disembodied voices fill the room
antique tongues of beggars
petition escape from imprisonment
unlock the heart and celebrate androgynous
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introverted self-doubting sex apparatus
no one or no thing can hold back
the raging stream of orgasm
untellable sins and sorrows color that jism
autobiographical half-remembered smiles
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genitalia turned creaky machinery
the generic conventions of pubic tussle
the smell of genital masquerade
words too private to repeat
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eyes pecked by birds
hairs combed back
black and slick like a ravens wing
-fiddling with tokens and coins
second hand fumes
coated her clothes
– a full ashtray reeks of death
in volcanic lands ash covers everything
you were listening to English bands and trying to copy the accents
*at school the kids called him Edgar Allan Poo
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————FLARF————
INEFFECTIVE AT BEST
DESTRUCTIVE AT WORSE
SMILING AS BEEF WITH CANCER
SMILING AS PORK WITH CANCER
CHICKENS AND TURKEYS PISSING BLOOD
NOVELISTS PAYING POETS TO SODOMIZE THEM
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————VIRGINIA WOOLF————
POINTS AT GENDER AND COMMENTS
ON THE AMOUNT OF SNAIL SNOT
never a word about the rules of genre
SNOT ON THE VULVA IS VULGAR
(to remain spotless while leaking the vilest contaminations)
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a full ashtray reeks of death………..
but what about an unbuttoned sister
in bed with her brother
what if his fingers are wet
in a Catholic sort-of-way
“He’s walked in the social wound
has he oozed in the church ?”
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poetry about physical passion
and the union of the UGLIES
fertile intermingling
open air sex found exceedingly offensive
deliberately courted indecency
near-rape in the daylight
*a closed volume of blank verse
*made horny by the stride and the strut
*doggy style with a finger in the small grandeur
*talk of intensely poetic polkas at the pool hall
*free to play or to look on enviously
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playing polkas in the drawing-room
the men folk had their organs out on display
masculine vigor, breadth, peculiar lengths
commas and dots in a wad of fur
wanting someone to think “aloud” with
good-natured….attentive inside
speaking German but smoking Italian
ordinary trousers in the trash
*dead people continue to develop
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circle wagons around the town
no escape from the slings and arrows
– the small death
the big death
– sins numbered and recorded
WHEN DID YOU LAST SIN?*
*about 6:47 yesterday
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humorous God
meat pole with one hole
sex tool and waste pipe combined
catholic dirty sex
she wrote a poem and sealed in a box for 50years
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WHEN DID YE LAST SIN ?
small talk in the locker room
spoken between you and me
blurry blue and red lights
the flashing lights of strife and scandal
sin silently infiltrated the world of flarf
putting names and faces to unspeakable deeds
whispering the vocabulary of the illicit and the unconventional
*my sin was just a simple interruption in the drift of ordinary events
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EDGAR ALLAN POE
almost everyone has something to say about him
he was the bastard of marital infidelity
premarital sex before death
out-of-wedlock pregnancy
genital irregularities
giant genital warts
a cautionary cancer scent
LIFE WAS AN EXERCISE IN AUTOBIOGRAPHY
the words of E.A. Poe are often hidden under beds
words banned by small town libraries
still today sets tongues wagging
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HE WAS A TELEVISION NOVEL
WATCHING EIGHT HOURS A DAY
THREE TIMES A DAY
ON MULTIPLE SETS
SLEEP BEING THE DREADED INTERRUPTION
THE BEDROOM CHALKED UP
AS A DANGEROUS EDGE
OF UNREGULATED MASTURBATION
HIS TIGHT HAND WAS A GYPSYISH BEAUTY
UPROOTING SEED
THAT DATED BACK TO CAVEMAN TIMES
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spotless and clinical
a forensic scene
no traces or signs of life (was there ever?) –
– snail trails from her cabbage patch
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cigarette dangling in ashtray grove
a rifle hanging from a parapet
– the brother and the sister DISCRETION is the word –
– let his fingers trace the shapes from the architectures blueprint
he took the elevators to the 132nd floor
– wooden seats below the cross
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TUNNELED BENEATH THE GRAVE OF ELVIS PRESLEY
WANTED TO TAKE PHOTOS BUT WAY TOO DARK
ROCK AND ROLL HUMILIATION IS REALLY BLACK
EXPULSIONS AND SUSPENSIONS FROM MUSIC
DETECTIVES OVERHEARING YOUR CONFESSIONAL
CONCEPTION OF NORMALITY IN LEEDS
MOUNTING SEX-HUNGER IN MARRIED MEN
READING ILLICIT POETRY
WATCHING FILMS OF ADELE SHAVE
HER PIGEONHOLES AND LEGS
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GOOD LORD MAN,
there is no DISCRETION
the red hot furnace of lust
gallons of hormones
he is there
she is there
slick youth tube
generating heat
insatiable longing
substitutes
*something to laugh about when you reach 70
banging your sister on Saturday before the cartoons
and later after disappointing dates
and later after hubby kicks the bucket
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too poor to rent a room
sleeping in a cocoon made from litter
hearing narrators
hearing taped conversations
feeling an unnatural strangeness
passing turds that look like pedestrians
neon lights reflect on their shiny coat
” MY GOD I’M PASSING PEDESTRIANS ”
you cover the logs but squirrels uncover them
people pretend to not see them
they know that they came from your rear
they saw you eating those colors yesterday
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NORMAN LIVES IN JAIL
NORMAN LOVES IN JAIL
DAILY HARASSMENT
FROM HIS DEAD MOTHER
————————————–
AN INSATIABLE APPETITE FOR POETRY
EXPERIENCING IT HEAD-ON
RETREATING FROM IT
EARTH IS AN EMPTY DREAM
A CORRUPTIBLE SOUL CINEMA
(an event which put an end to childish play)
CHILDHOOD COLLAPSES
HOLLOW CANYONS BECOME MUCK PITS
*poor people sleep in cocoons made from pool-table cloth
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LAST NIGHT IN MY DREAMS
JESUS TOLD ME
THAT SATAN FILLS A MOLD
WITH SINNERS
AND CREATES ONE CREATURE
FROM MANY
I ASKED,
“WHY DO YOU TELL ME ?”
JESUS SAID, ” I AM THE PHOSPHORESCENT
CHRIST AND THE VISION-MAKING TIMES
HAVE STARTED”
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NEONED TECHNICOLOR JESUS
who could ask for more ?
FROST HAS WRITTEN ANOTHER POEM
ABOUT MEMORIES OF A RAINY AFTERNOON
summoning the past
we think of the Father
and his relation to the universe
our relatives as asphalt
in the Highway of Eternity
*participants in DEATH (I speak of the Destiny Train)
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I SAW YOU EATING THOSE COLORS YESTERDAY
I SAW YOU SQUATTING
WITH BALLBEARINGS
AROUND YOUR A-HOLE
other poets laugh as you poop in the bushes
a cavalcade of bullets
coated with symbols
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nocturnal faces of past lovers
like butterflies emerging from a cocoon
– hard to gauge a true likeness –
(You could smell your mothers perfume)
– in jail with homemade knives
– top bunk staring at the ceiling
– lack of sleep
with one eye open
black lungs spat out at the urinal
*three weeks wages wasted on bootleg lemonade
popcorn sold at the entrance
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tongues wagging
the smile on her face
got lost in autobiographical detail
– you’ll find me in the appendix (under J)
– died in a paupers grave in a second hand suit
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swollen like an engorged penis
in blankets of the river bed
the cyclic rise and fall
is too slow for orgasm
Robert Frost just wrote a poem
about an eagle
readers holding serpents
around his grave
he was a HERO
and will always be a HERO
*an evil monster bent on devouring readers
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-snail trails from her cabbage patch
HELL MAN, I AM GLIDING
DIRECTLY BEHIND HER GLAND
what price ? a return to Edenic innocence
goofy clowning around the grave of E.A. Poe
black cats playing jazz—their worms on display
————————————————————-
when asked about “conversational poetry”
at an autograph party
only flarf poets were willing to fink
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ROBERT FROST JUST WROTE ANOTHER POEM
ABOUT SNOWFLAKES
FLARF POETS SLEEP IN EMPTY BARBER CHAIRS
10 CENTS A HOUR TO KEEP THEM WARM
————————-
A LATE NIGHT PHONECALL
WHISPERS ABOUT A THICK RUBBER GIRDLE
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inside the drawing room they sat on high backed chairs
– curtains thicker than 100 years of history
– stock exchange ticker telling of collapse
– a language that sounds aggressive
a slight atmosphere descended
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thrown from the band
predilections for Satanic rituals, misheard lyrics, ceremonial cutlery-
losing the inclination
slowly
it’s down here
dug below his grave for a different view – sold all his trinkets online to find your trip to the west coast
– you can do it
but do it safe –
I met her in the library, row G – L
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hormones flowing like water over Niagra
to fast coursing through little veins leads to confusion –
heat rash and wicked itches
meat in a bottle is no substitute for the real thing
the real deal is always available at a price
longing just drags on
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the rented room afforded a view of the streets below
everyone a possible target going about
clockwork
prerecorded noise bubbles into my ears
a man singing about seeing Godflesh
& a dead animal
pedestrians pass and we brush shoulders
first contact with an alien species
johns in the basement mixing up the medicine
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one mass made from many
an amalgamation
we are all even when we are dead
we all disappear
the jesus in my dream fronts a band
that only seem to sell records in cold Scandinavian countries
vision making times in technicolour and out of focus
something wrong with my eyes weak cataracts, milky
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rubber jesus, about the size of your little finger won in a Christmas cracker tug-o-war
passive christ child with no bearing on what goes on outside
put all your faith in science and numbers, french cigarettes and jazz
the highway passes under you like unspoiled tape
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i accept the bullets
the barbs
i burnt the bush
grappling with a rainbow of emotions. 7 feelings in fact
this is a symbol
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YOU ARE SO CORRECT
INSIDE THE DRAWING ROOM
—they ate Indian acorn mush
that’s what one ate when the cupboards were bare
very difficult to swallow even more so to expel
LIFE seen from the outside looking in
LIFE seen from the inside looking out
just a bunch of hair and strangers and fugitives
what was once a land of eager lovers
virginity driven to the black hole of night
a thick rubber girdle acting as a protective dam
an area of loving and lusting and unanswered prayers
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—————-you met her in the library
she was making strange sounds
inside her was the melting slush
of snows from various years
years that you refused to make payments
years that Robert Frost
wrote poems about steamed-up windows
she was still black and white
traces of colorful diversity
in her butt crack
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FEAR OF HAVING MADE TOMBOY WITH THE SISTER
YOU MENTION MEAT IN A BOTTLE
YOUNG HIPSTERS AND HOMOSEXUALS
WITH THEIR WARM LIVERS
SEX WITH MEAT MAKES ONE A TOURIST
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THE RENTED ROOM WAS REALLY A CABOOSE
UNDERGOING PSYCHOANALYSIS
THEY WARNED YOU ABOUT HAWAIIAN SHIRTS
THE COST OF A FRIENDLY AUDIENCE
wearing dungarees to the library
not made of cotton
dungarees made from paranoias, dreams, and fantasies
circumstances under which poetry is written
with minimum interference from Robert Frost
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god orders in colours
the browns
but no greens
nothing black or white
no greys or blues
shitting out ballbearings to a morse code reverie
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tossed on the waves like a battered ark but sticking to the path
– conversational poetry written in one go no time to proof read
no edit (the soul laid bare like a wang at the urinal)
no revisions – Miles Davis the bandleader* – riff of this rebound – walking a line that hasn’t been drawn
*once during rehearsals Miles told John Coltrane to stop playing as playing live was the time to rehearse (sp!)
the city burnt along with the rules
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IT IS IMPOSSIBLE NOT TO END UP A PARODY
the tabloids suggested reckless behavior
poetry out of control
surveillance 24/7
pharmaceutical
measured pauses
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you may accept the bullets
THE PILEUP OF SCATOLOGICAL DROPPINGS
FRACTURED MELODIC LINES
suppressed desires and feelings
young Johnny Boy the neophyte
at war with the hunger for attention
leaving home in one breath
returning home in the next
jazz determined by time
phrasing and harmonizing
telepathic snaps
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it would be easier to drop an atom bomb
then pass a ballbearing or two
outrageous words fall in the bushes
words full of color
colors with vendettas
real men walk around
nude from the waist down
one look and it is a pseudonym
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Miles Davis was sidestepping the issue
without approaching the solution
when one takes a corpse to the graveyard
it would be easier to eat the body
than bury it in the ground
come one—come all
the cafeteria is open
free psychiatric testing
free interpretation of poetry
forgiveness given
pent-up love released
white lies erased
(fingers from San Francisco for your bottom)
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Miles never sidestepped the issue – he took detours
never no need for a solution
just continual circumnavigating, trumpet in hand
you can’t eat a corpses teeth but I’ll take you up on the offer of a free psychiatric test
meet me at the cafeteria and give me directions
I went to San Francisco and left my sunglasses under the bed
–
–
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wearing a tent because of her huge size
having been inflated by the poet, Johnny Boy
she was a spectacle and neighbors kept an eye on her
——————-her pink-quilted innards (all sexual)
was she a woman like the Statue of Liberty ?
a big metal woman pointing at the moon ?
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more specific and precise
——Hullabaloo——
“NO” had to reorganize
“YES” bore fruits of timeless pleasure
hard-boiled poetry leaked to the public
raw poetry as if written by a police interrogator
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wearing a hazmat suit to write poetry
throngs of cockroaches
thick liquor store bugs
expressionistic insects
pertinent information in their droppings
secret dinner jackets, topcoats, white scarves
fed on the scraps of jazz musicians
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I went to Alcatraz &
sat on Al Capones toilet
it wasn’t as good as it sounds
I went to Tenderloin and all I could think about was meat &
farm animals, Orwellian pigs
the do rolled in Jack the Ripper London
a floor of dead prostitutes
I am a parody
a puppet
(And other things beginning with P)
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*atom bombs stored in camouflage bunkers not registered on maps
fight itinerary & weather report:s:
it’s outside
coming in from the west –
three days of rain (prepare sandbags, organise activities to occupy children,
no electricity,
remove limescale from kettle
a return to the blitz spirit)
– stuck indoors looking at flowers wilt on the windowsill –
water outside cascades
*while I wrote this
a bass line played in my ears
a repeated loop in my ears
the lyrics mention a blind man
a curfew (at 9:30),
a neck
slightly dislocated,
a house that is evil
please
have mercy on me
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I REMEMBER IN MIDDLE SCHOOL
THE INSTRUCTOR CALLED YOU
“A PITCHFORK IN A PEA-PATCH”
I DON’T KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS
BUT IT STUCK IN MY MIND
*you said that you started with a “P”
WE ALL RENT A DEGREE OF ISOLATION
TAKE DRUGS TO FEEL LESS LIKE AN OUTSIDER
DRINK ALCOHOL TO BLEND IN
PRETEND TO BE COMFORTABLE
WITH OUR IDENTITY
THE IDENTITY OF OTHERS
PECULIARITIES POP UP
SOMETIMES STUFF FROM PORNO MOVIES
VOYEURISM
the only thing better
VOYEURISM ON SMACK
MEANINGLESS GROPING
THE PILLOWS ARE TOO SOFT
THE SIRENS CALLING
NO MORE QUESTIONS
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ATOM BOMBS IN CAMOUFLAGED BUNKERS
FEAR AND DESPAIR IN A WEAPON
CHRISTIAN ALLEGORIES
ARE A MILLION TIMES WORSE
———just like with the Ark, there is NO turning back
ISOLATION AND ENDLESS SUFFERING
SOME HUMANS RUN AND HIDE
OTHERS STARE UP AT THE SKY
AND ASK FOR PUNISHMENT
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BEHIND THE MASK OF ALIENATION OF AFFECTIONS
———FLARF———
POEMS TOO FOREIGN FOR LOCAL TASTES
NEAR-PANTOMIME POETS HAVE SAID MORE
THE NATIVES HAVE SET UP CODES OF TABOO
CLUCKING CHICKEN IMITATIONS NIGHTLY
POETS CROWING AND CLOWNING
PANTYWAISTS RECITING ROBERT FROST
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MEN WHO OWN POETRY
ULTIMATELY OWN THE WORLD
VENDORS SELL SAUERKRAUT
AND LIVERWURST
DURING CHURCH SERVICE
JESUS IN A TUXEDO
*one had to watch their steps
the puritan coalition
pooped like wild animals
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FLARF poetry with some additional backstage foofoo
willing to pay for some sideshow sex
dancing around in someone else’s undergarments
and other gestures of earthly license
FLARF often sashays off the page
sodomy with a nasty bite
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RAW POETRY AS IF WRITTEN BY A POLICE INTERROGATOR
poetry with perfume, a gown, come-hither looks
wet nurses for the young and the old
no do-gooders in the pokey
troublemakers with big dongs
hourglass figure poetry
FLARF never forgiven its trespasses
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Hullabaloo
Hullabaloo
Hullabaloo
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sorry cuffs and hems of trousers drag on the floor
at home the fridge is open the milk is sour
sour liquor
a secret handshake learned at the temples
bugs crawl over skin
crawl in hair
I have a skeleton key that can open the most intricate locks
one way traffic
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THE BOMB WHICH MUST INEVITABLY EXPLODE
—————————SHE
has abandoned herself to a perfect union
she has created herself in HIM
the doctor said that she was projecting
abandoning herself
to a pretense
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Robert Frost has never written
about killer-rage
and killer-jealousy
or trying to channel
the pent-up fury
of a lifetime
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TERRIFIED OF MADNESS
DRAWING CRUDE DONGS
ON NUNNERY WALLS
SELF-RECRIMINATIONS
MOTHER PLAYING “THE PERFECT GENTLEMAN”
FATHER BEHAVING LIKE A MONKEY WITH DIAPER RASH
*his heart full of black rocks
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after walking for days with no food or water
I found myself abandoning all I had hoped for
my honest despair was better than any fantasy
of Robert Frost
*from the numbness of my empty corridor
I encouraged Robert to write another poem
about a butterfly
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SORRY CUFFS AND HEMS OF TROUSERS
————————————————————-
the vulnerability felt inside the trousers
others are not blind to how vulnerable you have become
you can take anything and take it alone (?)
all the magnificent personas
seem to safeguard
their essentials
they look at you
and then through you
they say, ” go busy yourself with something creative”
—————the living center is where you want to be
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AT HOME THE FRIDGE IS OPEN THE MILK IS SOUR
—————————————————————————
sour sexuality in the relationship
forcing to be what will never be
love making without the love
face after face—the same old face
resentful for having to endure it
disappointed for the struggle
intimacy which isn’t intimacy
*from suprahuman dimensions to subterranean depths
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went to a peep show and the frosted window cleared and she was in front of me dancing – there was shit music and the booth I was in had bin full of discarded tissues – my last coin dropped in the bin and I dug out
no shame
voyeristic tourist wrestling with myself –
I was the pea not the pitchfork
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indiscriminate atom bomb will take us all out of the equation
– the last image of earth
an explosion and Trumps hairpiece spiralling into the clouds
future fascists will scour the new earth for the hairloom
punishment for pre-determined sins
Christian logic follow no logical path
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harsh Germanic sounding meats
guttural and phlegm rattles
back of throat
the tube from mouth to gut
Jesus on the beach swimming out beyond the breakers
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the court stenographer would go home and cut up the day’s proceedings –
– poems of forensic evidence, crime scene descriptions, denial – all flarf
but based in cold realty
( you could taste innocent blood )
the detectives asked her to name them as coauthors
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maybe he had no aggression
pent up
or spent
maybe he lived and ideal life
or maybe it’s all lies and he was a monster
pure evil
to the core
– not able to read between the lines (the gaps are to small)
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love making deep inside some subterranean depths
she was the lighthouse & I was the sea,
– she would endure the foreplay for 39 minutes & four fingers inside elastic silk
-smooth with the taste of toothpaste and gum
the fridge light will slowly fade and fade out next to rotten butter and warm milk
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EACH FEMALE NATIVE AROUND THE CAMPFIRE
CARRIED AN IDEALIZED IMAGE OF THEIR MATE
ON A MENTAL LEVEL THE PERFECT UNION
————–THE INNER MARRIAGE
THE OUTER WORLD WITH ITS SCISSORS OF REALITY
ANGUISHED DECISIONS AND INEVITABLE CUTS
PIECES OF LOVE LITTERED THE PATHWAY
*SHE had withheld too much of her true self
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she first set out to please DEATH
the child she abandoned through the car window
the ugly ass human form that stank and cried
when she tossed the baby that night
she shattered the image of the man she loved
the baby would die and she would learn to accept reality
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what was one to think
given a strong foothold
in possible heterosexual love
would she repeat her mother ?
migraine headaches
and digestive problems
patterns of avoidance
eating disorders
a stranger in the bedroom
a stranger in her own body
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words put on paper——initiation rites
——————————————————–39 minutes
four fingers inside
full
assurance that you
WILL NOT PULL OUT TOO FAST
——————————————-
you said, “39 minutes and four fingers inside”
the determination and the outcome
momma say,
“leave the critiques to the critics”
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she she she she she she she she she she she she she she she
——————–SHE——————–
SHE NEEDS TO DIFFERENTIATE HER OWN FEMININITY
unconscious of the taste of chewing gum
unconscious of the taste of toothpaste
driven all day by what seems like the world
the bedroom screams, “PLEASE DADDY”
the urgency of the trickster husband
——————-that trickster husband
“the most spoiled little boy in England”
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——————————–MAKING LOVE ON TOP
far from the rotten butter
close to the warm milk
married life is playing musical-chairs
then squirting a geyser
—————————————————————–
the bedroom becomes a prison with locks
lust clutches at her neck
breathlessly she plummets
hoping to toss her vocabulary
the bed wet with words
a final collapse into confusion
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DETECTIVES AT WORK ON A CASE OF ROMANTIC MELANCHOLIA
THE INABILITY OR UNWILLINGNESS OF THE POET TO SPEAK
ADULTS WHO NURTURE THEIR PAIN IN PRIVATE
PRAYING THAT THEIR ISOLATION IS NOT INTERRUPTED
PRAYING THAT THEY CAN SATISFY THEIR DESIRE FOR SELF-PUNISHMENT
Robert Frost would say, “soft-spoken words float in a gentle stream”
poets sleeping in self-imposed cocoons
not a single martyr among them
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erratic scissors cuts the cloth left marked
– held up and opened out
shapes that didn’t fit
– singed hair to close to the campfire
marshmallows soft like liver
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heterosexual lovers
homosexual lovers
people in the middle
– a foothold on the mountain
a pile of rock
we are somewhere within the geography
somewhere within lines
stranger within oneself
stranger in time
it’s happening and it’s the same all over
–
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pull out to fast
place it in slow
or the other way round
horses for courses
either way, don’t leave a mess
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Robert Frost in a pair of old blue dungarees
trying to write a poem about the BLUES
American poets dressed in overalls
saying, “yes’m boss to their lovers”
the loathing of jazzers was strong
the BBC exporting images of micro-dongs
famous folk singers with their pants down
flamboyance and showmanship were everything
suspicious about the constant Habit Rouge
reorchestrated or not—the smell of a man
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on top or below or
smothered between thighs maybe on her side looking at prison bars
– the milk was tainted
from psychedelic cows
who moo moo mooooo and we can only guess at what that means
– bedrooms with no firewalls
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a case of melancholia was replaced by a blanket of half written poems
ones that never took off
ones that just ended there
where nothing could move on
stalled, like ones that tried to exist but collapsed in the first trimester –
the time for martyrs was engaging to the shore
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a blanket for a transient living arrangement
privacy and separateness become weeds
the woeful effect that kiddies have on the netherworld
restrictions—the taste of toothpaste
the dryness of boredom and fatigue
greater headaches—don’t mention sex
—————————————————-
gonadally propelled poetry
guillotine for the dong
severed from known vocabularies
pseudonym after pseudonym
*the perpetually open mouth
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blessed or cursed with a spectrum of subcultures
a lifetime of waking up in the dark
and knowing there is no sense
of belonging
almost nothing stands up under scrutiny
the needs of others dimly perceived
caveman substitutes for mother and father
poets find themselves in emotionally isolated situations
at night around the campfire, prayers for bodily contact
yes, bodily contact without the pretense of attachment
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Robert Frost not the poet
the man who lived three roads down – painted his house blue
dressed like a hobo jumping trains*
– uk micro-dongs available online – always image over content
image
flamboyant like Liberace on Valentine’s Day
*the cure was the soundtrack
always was
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THE COFFEE HOUSE CIRCUIT
YOU SET YOUR HAT DOWN BEFORE YOU START
“HELLO, I’M THE MAN THREE ROADS DOWN”
YOU SING AND YOU PLAY
SONG AFTER SONG ABOUT SUBSTITUTE PARENTS
AND DOING PEOPLE WRONG
THE NEED FOR A PARTNER
AND HOW INFREQUENTLY
YOU GET THE NOODLE WET
——————————————-
——————————————-
AGING HOMOSEXUALS AND DEAD HOMOSEXUALS
THE EXTERIOR IS NO LONGER AN ASSET
NONVERBAL COMMUNICATIONS SIGNAL DISGUST
“ARE YOU THE SOURCE OF THAT SMELL ?”
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SUBTLE CHROMOSOMAL CHANGES
AND POEMS BECOME HALF-WRITTEN
LOWER TESTOSTERONE
BLANKETS OF ANATOMICAL DEVELOPMENT
PLAYING WITH DOLLS WITH NO BREASTS
BUFFOONERY WITH THE BATHROOM DOOR CLOSED
——————–LATER, PREDILECTIONS AT THE TRUCK STOP
HUNKS OF PROTOPLASM —LIVING SEEDS OF HERO BULLS
NO SHAME—NO APOLOGY JUST UPBEAT AND READY TO GO
INSTANT GRATIFICATION—20 YEARS SHORT OF 40
*not 20 years short of 60
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flamboyant like Liberace on Valentine’s Day
and a thousand questions
about vulgarizing what the nobs wore
dreams about the Edwardians and the Teddy Boys
they still circle the Albert Hall area
ask them why they are there
————The Who————
it bedevils one to think “not anytime soon”
*long lines of people wanting to step outside their class structure
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everyone in the radical psychology class had a sharp knife
they were willing to make pop songs bleed
lyrics about adolescent fantasies of adulthood
parents who loved to hate each other
bizarre childhood rituals
live in it or live outside it
“COME VISIT BUT DON’T GET OUT OF THE CAR”
***me friends were run amok—box jackets with little collars
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————A CASE OF MELANCHOLIA————
Frank Sinatra is so old that he can no longer stand
terrified of men with their hands in their pockets
terrified of the range of movement in the toilet stall
people on your wavelength came and went
outcasts and oddities—beatniks, hillbillies and subversives
each birthday, the smart ones would wish
to liberate themselves from their background
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the world dominated by the largest monolithic penis possible
hyper-modernistic celebrations—everyone twice-medicated
Christians were into plagiarism—Rome reeked of it
the priests were opportunists, the poets more so
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trying to sell kitsch poetry at flea-markets
language battered with obnoxiousness
———poetry turned into a commodity
your sister wrote unsettling things about her baby
gave it some pills and took it for a ride
teenagers being teenagers
she tossed it out the window
at a road sign
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“LOVE COMES IN SPURTS”
in the darkness who would be playing that tune ?
strange new drugs give one the bug-eyed glare
bored with the typical lot
this new stuff created a deeper vacancy
the bed became a rollercoaster
it was wise to hang on
at quiet moments
one could reach out and touch
touch-touch-touch first hand
somehow the baldness seemed threatening
not a single hair—damn tight discipline
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dipped my toes in all subcultures
– each day not sure to wear or what to say or how to wear my hair…
…a sense of belonging
like crawling on all fours into your mothers arms – the warmth of two breasts-
we over analyse it all
– cavemen just did what was natural
some didn’t have mothers so cuddled up to rocks
and gave them names
bodily contact but only with permission
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I was the man from three roads downs and moved and I’m the man from six roads down
but I carried all my baggage
– tightened my belt to ensure trousers stayed erect and nothing was accidentally exposed
didn’t want to raise heart rates
non-verbal communication misread but you can’t misread that smell
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the lucky cavemen did what was natural
the unlucky ones—well…
vultures darkening the skies
sometimes dead people made good graffiti
white flesh chili
wearing clothes outgrown
eating meatloaf made from a neighbor
adolescents looking at a bunghole on a corpse
no drama of guilt or shame
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at night in the dark
poetry only as good
as the emotions that it generates
turn on a flashlight
and the plague of rats
those are the readers
they are the present
and possibly the future
they have cheated the elders
they will cheat the children
scraping and gnawing
attractive to the hostile
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me hatreds coming out
people standing around
——————–words
slow and amateurish
always trying
to slip a little
CLOCKWORK ORANGE
on that bastard Robert Frost
———in the whole world
not another human
takes offense at that ass-wipe
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you can’t apply science to words
can’t associate poetry with biology
strange imbalances blamed on upbringing and DNA
– a doll with no breasts (Ken?) imagination used to make it –
on the honeymoon it took ages to reach instant gratification
practisepractisepractisepractise
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teenage years riding around the Albert Hall*
dressed like a sub culture that would be out of fashion – off tangent
stealing from the past
there never was a future
just walking in your grandfathers shoes –
yesterday I saw a kid dressed like a world war 2 pilot –
another dressed as a Nazi
a girl in Victorian finery –
slipping through the cracks of class
but your accent gives it away
*the last resting place of one of Hitlers balls
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the almost autistic stares of the cavemen
impoverished vocabulary
intention and intelligence concealed
Satan with his Beatle-ish hair
the tabloids promoting his dong
social sofas arranged
knife throwing not conversation
poetry being pushed into the arena
bold pamphleteering FLARF
anonymously or pseudonymously
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in the background like a fresco where we melted like drying paint into the cracks next to tress
swaying with the radio waves
– they transmitted signals along different frequencies
new messages for the code breakers –
hands in pockets
weapons concealed
birthday candles waiting for extinction
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Satan with his Beatle-ish hair
a true charlatan—shrink-wrapped
with a thick rubber-band
at the base of his dong
the year full of heads
——-the Cherry agency talking
heads are easy to hire
you come and they go
the mystique of yesterday gone
strong undercurrents
like a stud horse
thoughts of release
a flood of jism
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cavemen swinging pieces of tree and grunting
honeymoon recitals
kill eat
eat meat kill
sex and death
toothless by their 20s
clothes contains animal flesh
no concept of guilt or shame
no concept of concepts
fur blood and met
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does this poetry generate feelings?
do they laugh or point fingers?
a desire to erase the words above or
the comments below?
children chasing their tails
parents at the drinking hole
plot everything on a graph and it looks like a skyline
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left the flea market scratching an itch
carrying bags of cheap tat
bags in bags bags
carrying cheap tat
stop off for black lemonade at a bar
the king on the jukebox
and all eyes fixed
blood red veined sockets
teenage boners
in pill form
penis compass lead many off the grid
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makes me think of that party
where they played that
ANTHROPOLOGICAL RECORD
over and over
crazy cats wanted alternatives
snapping fingers and saying
“baby-baby-baby pass the meat”
—————gut issue————–
Robert Frost naked in the Trobriands
Robert Frost naked in the Sepik River area
poetry either scientific or scholarly
oh my god, I’ll go for a walk in the woods
and marvel at the fall leaves
*one eye open for Cyclops
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EACH MAN IS LORD GOD TO HIS CHILDREN
—————————————————————-
one thinks of self-censorship that automatically seems necessary
the isolation of youth and the adults who disrupt it
everything is uncontrollable
nothing takes precedence over excitement
nothing is central—everything being marginal
barbarism being the chosen sport
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two drinks of black lemonade
and it is hand me a dog whip
and a loaded revolver
( street vendor bath salt crazy )
cut photographs out of coffee-table books
and try to pass them off as American money
cut out photographs of movie stars
and try to pass them off as lovers and relatives
selling artifacts from Kentucky
the real thing at a bargain
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two drinks of black lemonade
and crazy Christians
start talking about
crossing and re-crossing
Jesus being the busy boy
softhearted or softheaded ?
SHANTYTOWN JESUS
JESUS OF THE GHETTOES
colonialists in church praying
colonized people at home
painting everything white
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Satan wore Cuban boots and hummed rhythm and blues as the flames licked up from below
– had a Beatle haircut but preferred the Stones – elastic bands round his wrist to remind of things to do
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AN INNOCENT REENACTMENT OF YOUR HONEYMOON
——————a carnivalesque moment————-
unpredictable but everyone was hopeful
if only you didn’t drift back to childish daydreams
bullfights and large animal sacrifice
——–pain—decapitation—death
raised bumps in the genital area
forceful scrubbing with a pumice stone
it seems nothing can do away
with the curiosities and ambivalences
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———RUBBER-BANDS AROUND THE WRISTS———–
hermaphroditic potential
double-sexed poetry
taboo within taboo
encoded with the stick and the circle
REAL POETS THINK OF A LIBRARY AS A WHOREHOUSE
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the lady at the library constantly talked about
“getting behind language”
suggesting that people need to retreat back
before humans had dialogue
—suppression of the savage with a backdoor
once opened
the competition leads to violence
flirtations with death
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the erosion of commonplace
individuals going about their business
happy with the weight of their thoughts
the words being hollow
blessed impotence has slowed
the brutish potential of the penis
it no longer needs
to affirm its essentiality
*the gorgeous virility put out to pasture
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I cut pictures from magazines in medical waiting rooms
I claim they are mine
I took them
I try and sell them off as original works of art
or foreign currency
foreign currency is colourful and hides secret messages – worthless but colourful
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two black lemonades and everything spins
left blind for three days
– can only see shadows and old images that creep over the back of my eyelids –
– blind for three days using hands as eyes –
Indians traded lands for blankets and trinkets after drinking the black lemonade
blind nation of landless folk
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OUTSIDE THE WINDOW
A WORLD POPULATED BY ENDLESS MEN
FINGERS TOUCHING FINGERS
COLLECTIVITIES OF MALENESS
LIVING NOW—NOTHING IS TABOO
HIERARCHY ONLY EXISTS IN HISTORY
WHEN ASKED ABOUT LIVING FOR LIFE
THE POET SAID THAT LIFE WAS A LIBRARY
OF UNREADABLE BOOKS
ROBERT FROST SAID THAT THE LIBRARY
WAS A WHOREHOUSE
*wait a minute—that wasn’t Robert Frost who said that
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BABY IF YOU ARE GOING TO REACH DOWN THERE
BE PREPARED FOR SOME THORNY CONCERNS
———-PHALLUS OR KNIFE————————
GANGSTER WANTING FULFILLMENT
————–IMMEDIATE
————–COMPLETE
FULFILLMENT OF THE RIGHT KIND
NO SODOMY OR SUBSTITUTE SEX
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sweethearts singing “no sodomy or substitutes”
no mommy and daddy sex
images of people wear out
each night
members of the tribe
have a sense of self in the campfire
when the flames die down
the chill becomes an unwelcome guest
*processed and reprocessed
*no adequate vocabulary in the medicine chest
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THOUGHTS NOT TRADITIONALLY ASSOCIATED WITH POETRY
white monkey after white monkey
all white men are headhunters and cannibals
manifestly greedy one-sided mirror people
*romantic devils tend to dismiss love as a circus act
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undiscovered white people
DNA from the Bible tree
isolated deep in uncharted woman
fragile female remnant
sister to both
the predatory and the friendly
sister to the closeted beast
“love me to death sister”
Hasidic seed falls from the Bible tree
ejaculated life onto all below
yearning for immanent totality
the seepage takes control
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sluttish words that will go with anything – before or after –
the librarian had a favourite book she’d let no one take out
future kids will have no idea what a library is
words borrowed on trust and a promise to return
black X on the calendar as a reminder “RETURN THE WORDS”
RETURN THE WORDS
RETURN THE WORDS
RETURN THE WORDS
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in pre word days
savage grunts
(honeymoon reminiscence)
lots of pointing
“a pentagram in the centre of his hand”*
flirtations with the librarian
caress of her spine
the need to remain silent at all time, to not give the game away (she bite her lip…)
*words from the song
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people wake up one day and gradually fade as the day grows –
bodily functions slow down
things stop working
like a computer powered down on standby
– a sluggishness
shadows or former selves
– validation needed
passwords forgotten
thoughts buried somewhere at the back of the head
listening to autobiographical music
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it wasn’t Robert frost who said that
it was you
or another variant of you
don’t you remember?
have you lost yourself in the words?
unreadable books make good fuel
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substitute sex
pulled off at half time and replaced by a younger model
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cannibals eating fellow humans – felatio dinners – a mouthful of meat –
an aside:
a year ago my friend was blown up by a fridge
a monk cremated his body and he was flown home in the underbelly of plane
his mum had no legs and we climbed a mountain to say goodbye
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THE NEED TO REMAIN SILENT
———————————————THE NEED TO REMAIN SILENT
THE NEED TO REMAIN SILENT
the controller’s fear of losing control
a librarian with obscure desires
alongside—behind—outer-directed—inner-directed
powerful longings for the tube of seeds
did she need to pose riddles ?
did you need help to unravel her mound ?
the root-drama of sex
the librarian was a mythological creature
you —the rhinoceros with the phallic horn
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
(only yesterday you sent me a note about
renunciation of instinctual satisfactions)
it won’t be long until you turn into a white man
exit the primitive and enter the civilized
JOHNNY BOY of WHITE CITY
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LISTENING TO AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL CRYING
being questioned by the Gestapo
being forced to say crazy things about neighbors
being forced to chop at the roots of civilization
with a butter knife
being forced to separate the infant from the mother
and destroy the undesirable gender
whispers at the pool hall
about “situational” homosexual activities
chaos being added to confusion
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clinicians ask to be introduced to undiscovered white people
DNA from the Bible tree contains intimate data
passwords to the sexual responsivity center of the brain
theories on unchartered women—egg infested
functioning females
*the smell of hellfire and brimstone
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children from lower socioeconomic neighborhoods
pissing in public—to hell with buffoonery
the smell of rottenness
anal discomfitures
hazards
unflattering actualities
sociopathic and worse
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substitute sex
which calls for neither shame nor apology
pulled out a wad of protoplasm
caught in the bind
almost an entity
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fetus after fetus emerged
each one was given a name
common words like:
homicide, psychosis, suicide
poetic terms for creatures
once packed like sardines
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Johnny Boy an inspiration
The Clash
White Man in Hammersmith
didn’t need to check with the librarian
as he was sure of the facts
(confusion between a custodian of book and words
and the 7th zodiac sign)
her mound was there to be conquered
stick a flag in it and claim it as yours
everything I own is in boxes
I’ve worn the same pants for four days
no one needs to approach the seed tube
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>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>memories
toothpaste and other rigidities and limitations
she was kissing like Tony Soprano
volcanic upsurges
sex, and then you’re parked in another room
like the automobile
give-and-take
Straitjacket Johnny
the squeeze begins to pinch
each word is registered
the ache will develop
lacking the means to respond
and/or rectify a grievance
( the instrument from the adult book store—the vaginated tube with lube)
she was carrying a placard “disappointed too often to continue”
*choice: hurling excrement or tasting toothpaste from the goodnight kiss
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poets rarely write about a Japanese Jesus
or voyeurism in the church
church becomes cinema
transvestites pray
for penetration
of some sort
“situational”
at best
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sign on the wall in the honeymoon suite
“marriage is a painstaking transferal of thought into action”
reciprocal relations—trade-offs
white skin celibates
control and subordinate others
males and females know their distances
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even the ugly apes have an instinctive tendency to speak
irregular people and poets are the experimenters
haphazard variations and then the motor turns over
school teachers making the circuits jump through hoops
one must have organized circuitry to learn
immigration and conquest and impotent history books
———————————————————————–
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
————————————————————————
looked out the window this morning
the neighbors were tinkering
with their poop on the lawn
a bright blue rectal apparatus
defiant looking—lots of possibilities
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a city full of people watching each other – taking notes
autobiographically
– just in case they are required ton report to the detectives
– everyone issued with butter knifes (symbolic
but harmless) –
– a city where people vanish
– where pool halls act as covers for subversive activity
– kill the source
remove the head
chaos and confusion both start with C’s
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a tribe of undiscovered white people found in a condo by the beach
– existed in splendid isolation
living on trust funds of long dead relatives (wealth followed the bloodline) –
observed for hours and forced to answer a thousand yes/no questions:
Are you known at the pool pool?
Do you dream of falling buildings?
Are these your fingerprints?
no concept of either hellfire or damnation
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girl in a special economic zone
in the centre of the CBD – all white men in suits
discomfort and feeling uncomfortable around others pissing (a thumb and forefinger loosens the tie,
stretch the collar)
a puddle of piss is all that was left at the landing site
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“being physical”
the camera was touching everyone
life had limitations
minimal sets
modest costuming
claustrophobic kissing
the taste of toothpaste
like prying into
and becoming
mom and dad
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————————-the strangeness of such close physical proximity
traits of a white man
with an anal personality
nothing too petty
poets caught up in indirect gratification
devil agents with hand towels
huge soft macaroni
ready to swallow
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away from the kinds of conflict and decision-making
which are ingredients of the condition
known as life
names affixed to motive and action
like angry bugs that bite
one cannot help but feel the sting
pain is the mainstream
its tributaries lead in all directions
that puddle of piss—baseness to gold
Robert Frost
and his constant apprenticeship-to-life
the words barbarously flayed
for masochistic readers
social dragons
and circles that never end
upper-echelon apes drive expensive cars
forced to exist in a irrational world
lesser apes counterproductive
overthrow the father
chip away at sensation
until reflection has no hold
*the doctor gives you pills—you seem frenzied and disordered
*the pills seem to highlight sick longings (E.A. POE)
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Swedish Jesus comes flat packed
– Lego Jesus can be taken apart and reassembled as a tank or a radio studio
– men in dresses are becoming more common place
– empowered by showing a bit of ankle
Victorian rebellion gets the gentlemen hard
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AND THE COMPUTER TALKS TO ME
CONSTANTLY SAYING THAT HEAVEN ITSELF
IS VERY DOUBTFUL
THE EVENING NEWS SHOWS PEOPLE
THEIR EARTHLY HAPPINESS SNATCHED AWAY
SOME CARRY PENCIL SKETCHES OF MALIGNANT AGENTS
THE STRUGGLE WITH PAIN IS SHARED BY ALL
THE ESTATE OF ANGUISH KNOWS NO MEDICINE
PECULIAR AGGRAVATIONS HAUNT THE POETS
EVEN MAKING COMMON SPIT CREATES MORAL SUFFERING
“words come and words go—now me mouth is just a hole”
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unconquerable sorrow
someday me outgrow it
leave it in bed and run away
go and go and go
until that cloud overhead
it no shade me no more
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misty lense
a Vaseline blur
takes the edge faces that could be considered well punched meat
– the camera can only capture what’s there’s
– Instagram filter for these words wouldn’t make them any better –
– I remember kissing N*, she tasted of chewing gum and nicotine –
deep kisses in to the well
*many moons ago
when I was footloose
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the guilt of loving the most
———————————
the young lady not forgotten
a manuscript passed around
the weight of suffering today
the jumble of pronouns
underwear 5 sizes larger
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the computer tells me constantly there is an error
it seeks clarification
something wrong with the syntax
– a blank screen
– chalk outlines bodies
what remains
are the remains
– all roads lead here
all roads lead here
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—————me thinks the road leads to vengeful feelings
is a FLARF poet a swimmer or a floater ?
no secret that I worship Johnny Weissmuller
poets on the internet
masturbating
to the swimming style of Tarzan
Swiss, Swede, Russian, or American
holding onto that grapevine
swinging through life
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the mortuary slab honeymoon stab
assistants to tug down your underwear
bear fat lube
the other women were cut
but not fancy girl
crucifix, clearly visible
puffy-faced vulva
Cupid Room pink
lovemaking vandalism
your mansion made
love gnawed
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cold slab
elephant grey
cold skin cold slab
torso with pen marks to remind the surgeon where to cut –
view from the side it looks like a winking eye –
mansion closed down for deep clean
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