men in suits are more dangerous then a 1000 atomic bombs 

men in suits, more dangerous than a 1,000 atomic bombs 
murder at a safe distance 

death via video 

conference call massacre, a force field of bureaucracy
faceless names at the bottom of letters, the secretaries know where the bodies are buried 
they are selling up

the ship is going down and I saw them making tiny holes in the life jackets 

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440 comments

  1. multiplemichael

    STREET SCUM ARE EMPLOYED AS BABYSITTERS
    FOR 1,000 ATOMIC BOMBS
    bookshelves no longer hold books
    odd bottles of cheap champagne instead
    Dollar Store champagne
    blubbery grape drink
    wine forbidden at Farmers Markets
    good for kidney stones
    and removing scale

    Like

    • multiplemichael

      end of the world messages on the television
      “DO NOT LIVE INSIDE THE WRITTEN WORD”
      poetry has become an instrument of aggression
      head doctors point to the groin area
      the start of the birth-death cycle

      Like

      • eatmorewords

        the doctor appeared no older than my oldest t-shirt*
        – google search prognosis
        self medicated with alcohol and supermarket bought placebos –
        the doctors surgery a room where time is no consequence
        playing the waiting game while you experience a burning sensation ‘down below’ – old magazines bore you to tears – a celebrity divorce
        a holiday in the sun
        – a small cut that’s infected and throbbing (insects laying eggs there)

        if I stopped growing years ago why are my trousers getting shorter?

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        bluff and counterbluff—a choice between Donny Osmond
        and Marc Bolan
        Johnny Boy in tight white satin pants and Beatle boots
        butch in the world of Dolly Boys ?
        your father said, “damn twinkie-blinks”
        those pants disappeared in the wash
        you often wounded your parents
        with a phantom gun

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        dressed up to amuse
        winkle picker shoes cast shadows long
        tight pants reveal the circumcision screaming hordes tug at your hem
        Marc Bolan went to my school*
        my dad never understood

        *he did
        he really did

        Like

    • multiplemichael

      1,000 atomic bombs
      or an alien virus
      from a bug bite or a needle prick
      or a chubby guy at the truck stop
      wounded angels falling from the sky
      or so it seems
      Satan with his weapons that destroy both directions
      poets gather at the library —there precisely to kill
      anger at the lack of the printed page
      anger at the death of language
      bathrooms with identities
      confusing symbols
      older folks go outside
      behind some shrubs

      Like

      • eatmorewords

        1,000 atomic bombs couldn’t destroy the evidence – tiny black beetles all scurried from under the debris – tiny scurrying black beetles – humans began to live underground
        life by candlelight
        life by flickering bulb
        – evolved new breathing techniques to conserve air,
        mole eyes, red sore
        the postcard of the chubby girl at the truck stop a reminder of times passed
        time that expanded in all directions then just stopped
        – everything became unisex

        ————————–

        I’m trying to order my thoughts

        —————————-

        he was offended by a word and spend three hours rearranging cut out words to form a reply

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        go to jail
        and life blooms
        with subservient positions
        you told them a 1000 times
        you had no atomic bombs
        you showed them
        your phantom gun
        —————————–
        —————————–
        standing in line
        waiting to be depersonalized

        Like

    • multiplemichael

      ALL POETS PRAISE DISOBEDIENCE
      lots of broken bones—no time for them to heal
      drugs to excess—never enough
      half way at great psychic cost
      barbarism from birth
      KENTUCKY
      naked in the garden
      soon to be destroyed by sex
      self-restraint wasn’t an option

      Like

      • eatmorewords

        self restraint like driving a car with your footing the brake – when is enough too much? – laboratory tests on unwilling individuals – forced to do fun things until it becomes unfunny
        – there must be a line

        your face removed from high school year book

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        the plight of the baby bird
        cheap socks and angry feet
        not a single Jane Austen in romance
        unhampered kissing spells
        public, private—outdoors
        always in the direction
        of the narrow gap
        expeditions for anything wet
        WOOZINESS

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        teenage kisses clashing teeth – the idea of love Vs the actuality of love – chasing it like Ahab chased his whale –
        – the public persona of a private man –

        Like

    • multiplemichael

      POISONED BY THE TORTURES OF MEMORY
      with a hand so guilty of involuntary memory
      taught to limit existence
      to the very edge of boredom
      1,000 atomic bombs
      where are the Custodians ?
      Tom Hanks seems to have clues
      hundreds of millions
      free play of every faculty
      the old wife—the new wife
      the lesbian librarian
      pornographic intoxicants
      the smell of her guerilla organ
      three days without a wash
      conversational poetry
      autobiographical

      Like

      • eatmorewords

        the guilty hand twitched during sleepless night – this phantom limb with a life of its own doing things without permission –
        it’s there but invisible like the memories that are there but invisible popping their heads around the street corner of your mind
        – the underbelly of this town exposed by 1,000 atomic bombs
        – days in the undergrowth intoxicated by other people’s stories

        the zero man a concubine to mediocrity

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        the “WORK WIFE”
        contributes to the imbalance of life
        sometimes it is as if she has rubbed spices
        in the cave
        as if her body has become a warm pocket
        the love-knots squeezed out
        and saved
        ****innocent jism

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        the work wife washes dishes at home and stands there
        hands in soap suds
        rooted to the spot – picking at dried meat glued to china plates –
        poor secondary wife
        filled with a sickness
        of memories of red knees –
        the Russian speaking companion
        the words that you just can’t translate
        Kubrick in space

        (three weeks ago I was lost in a vacuum)

        Like

    • multiplemichael

      1,000 atomic bombs
      unmapped sexual wetlands
      at night the birds make so much noise
      that locals often fire shotguns from their porches
      or firecrackers, dynamite, or civil war cannons
      promissory death notes in the cookie jar
      to be paid back at a prearranged time
      a time when you will no longer be you
      you may be absorbed into your own script
      you may go berserk and feed the fish
      ****foregoing your own identity—your pungent self

      Like

      • eatmorewords

        in the hinterland through the clearing over the railway tracks, past old grain silos, over ruined towns and gentrified cities, past factories and schools,
        hospitals and screaming prisons
        the locals patrol peripheries with shotguns
        – no pleasure at the centre
        we re-wrote the scripts each day but re-enact the same scenes over and over –
        the actor confused over identity
        the Cold War spy with 6 passports
        – names blurred into faces

        a pre-paid trip by a mysterious benefactor

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        you mentioned the Cold War spy with 6 passports
        Noah on the Ark—-what about his passport ?
        1,000 atomic bombs
        he may had Fat-Daddy firecrackers
        make a mistake, lose multiple fingers
        lucky ? just a little skin off the bones
        when it comes to the burning lake of fire
        what is a safe aesthetic distance ?
        ———————————————-
        poets mocking religion—that it is self-defeating
        that every win is a loss

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        please don’t mention the clearing over the railroad tracks
        or the path past the grain silos
        the coming-and-going
        the fetching-and-carrying
        the Germans enjoy a murderous parade
        such shameful fantasies of their demise

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        the railroad track joined up the hinterland – places in the corner of maps – from the time they thought California was an island
        – grain silos dot to dot across the horizon, a stop sign and some soft erotism

        Like

    • multiplemichael

      went to a party with color photographs
      of a 1,000 atomic bombs
      in my pocket
      the host was ranting about American rhythms
      somehow, and I don’t know how
      he had confused Robert Frost for Mark Twain
      rather than get upset
      I thought about my dead relatives
      who had dug coal
      and died of black lung

      Like

    • multiplemichael

      street scum with lung plague, kidney plague
      possibly sex box plague
      scary red nipples
      smoking outside
      poverty-ridden cigarettes
      closed economy cigarettes
      two inch butts on the sidewalk
      outside the Love Motel

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        street scum with the urge to escape
        unbearable tension
        a life of short-circuited relationships
        daily trauma with the money demon hungry
        (+) one must feed the money demon
        ****you feed the hungry money demon
        and you pray for slow digestion

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        rattling lungs of those rattling down the street – eyes fixed on phones and footwalks – the poverty cigarettes of Winston Smith smoking while bombs full – everyone behaving like detectives-
        rattling lungs fatigued

        Like

    • multiplemichael

      moments of pure voyeurism
      the camera catches you unaware
      several images are used in a fanzine
      you are caught up in the perpetual (unresolvable) paradox
      of your image
      IS IT REALLY YOU ?
      IT HAS TO BE YOU !!!

      Like

    • multiplemichael

      when I got that note
      from the
      Government Communications Headquarters
      stating that they were tracking my words
      searching for an aspect of my work
      which
      revealed the greatest amount of surface
      they said that I was more than myself
      that I was multiple and not safe
      ****that I should be a caged bird (?)

      Like

    • multiplemichael

      hosed off in a cheap motel
      Dollar Store champagne
      a fantastic grape drink
      the bookshelves no longer contained books
      nostalgias and regressions instead
      pathos borrowed or misplaced
      evidence of photography
      victimized images in frames
      the police wanted to see nudity
      unworkable ideologies
      possibly polo-necked movie stars
      an assortment of genitals
      chubby buttocks and balloon-like breasts
      men on pogo sticks bouncing howlers
      anything with an air of anthropological disgrace

      Like

      • eatmorewords

        dollar store champagne burnt when it went down – bloated stomach ready to pop –
        overhead I heard warplanes –
        the people of the future will only see it in photographs –

        the police had no power in this jurisdiction- nostalgic thoughts of billy clubs and strangers blood

        Like

    • multiplemichael

      never underestimate the intelligence of street scum
      roadhouse artistic philosophy—hauntingly original
      spirits and demons and mythic motorcycle characters
      cartoonist sex in the outdoors
      anywhere that perversion can lurk
      (+) a brothel with Canadian ladies with large thighs
      (+) a seedy pool hall with more pinball machines than tables
      neon-lighted words at the truck stop
      commercial showers around the corner
      straight men shower with their clothes on
      men who spill hard-boiled jargon
      wear nothing at all
      first-timers are always apprehensive
      disposable income makes for a better time

      Like

      • eatmorewords

        the pool hall with no pool tables is just a hall, an empty space – I miss those days – those days of myths – when Greece was just rocks and ideas – I am drinking on my own and cutting out the eyes of childhood photos – remember heroes in the 50s smoked, drank whisky, beat their wives, hated communists – hard boiled black and white – I am drinking for two – I shower with my eyes closed so it’s all a surprise –

        Like

    • multiplemichael

      more mixed signals than a bootleg Flarf poem
      written on a napkin labeled “meltdown”
      bizarre bedroom behavior
      relentless drilling
      graphic passion
      Roy Orbison touching down below
      lip-syncing himself with innocent understanding
      standing there trancelike—bright red and throbbing
      his flesh was singing and his scrotum was swinging
      somewhere in the darkness God was listening

      Like

      • eatmorewords

        I see a darkness was the title of the last song I heard – I never saw God once and I wasn’t disappointed –
        all the lips synced
        all the lips synced
        all the lips synced
        all the lips synced
        – repeated until you’re in trance a

        when Roy wore those glasses you never knew which way he was looking

        Like

    • multiplemichael

      AMERICANS WEAR BLINDFOLDS ON TOP OF THEIR BLINDFOLDS
      late at night in a private automobile
      someone farts
      the smell of humus
      a naked butt close to your nose
      bits of paper and twigs in the canyon
      WHAT WOULD IT TAKE TO CORRECT THE SITUATION ?
      physical laws
      rational laws
      a loaded gun ?
      intentional solitude after the rape
      bad thoughts about seed stock
      stepping on his scrotum
      jumping up and down on his scrotum
      the cycles of his seed would cease
      the pain would be harsh
      —————–at the hospital
      they vacuumed out a pint of sperm
      to become an incubator
      oh my heavens
      pills with skulls
      that not only kill but also murder
      2 would do the deed
      blackened fingers held out 4
      “he was a rat bastard—take 4”

      Liked by 1 person

      • eatmorewords

        rat bastard
        rat fink – fingerprints all over the scene – the outline of her history chalk marked on the floor
        dark town – outside the laundromat they fought over the missing sock – a semi-circle of maids heavy with the smell of bleach
        – skull pills trading for the cost of 3 spider pill – new thrills and old bellyaches
        phantom pregnancy phenomenon
        incubator females laughing at the hanging scrotum
        hanging like a beehive
        all pain is short lived

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        the clear map
        follow the yellow brick road
        the sat nav was misleading
        you drive in circles for days
        your brother was going through the motions in another city swarmed by birds and storm clouds

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        (masturbation)
        you practice (efficiently and effectively)
        until you are sure of yourself
        you find the rhythm and it becomes automatic
        ——————————————————-
        late at night in your bed
        listening
        sensing the world around you
        thousands of people are breathing
        the possibilities of there being outdoor predators
        is frightening
        poisoned baits are hidden under bushes
        however
        the adults are too smart
        only young pups swallow the God-made agony
        it is the Garden of Eden all over again

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        the sound of burned rubber
        and then the smell
        2 would do the deed
        blackened fingers held out 4
        “he was a rat-bastard—take 4”
        a jaded husband and a miserable life
        hard-edged and often expressionless
        constant masturbation had taken a price
        dulled sensitivities and general indifference

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        rat fink bastard
        black and white gangster films tommy guns at the ready
        LOOK AT ME MA
        IM ON TOP OF THE WORLD
        but your not on top

        – robotic masturbation same time everyday the dullness of the routine no longer a release a necessity like taking the dog out for a walk in and amongst grey backdrops and constant rain

        Like

    • multiplemichael

      finding it difficult to date girls
      without derogatory or disrespectful labels
      pinned to the front of their blouses
      always saying yes to ugly ducklings
      buying milk shakes for the plump ones
      cigarettes for the coughers and hackers

      Like

      • eatmorewords

        it takes all sorts to tick all boxes
        blind dating in the dark unable to see the name badges
        just going on the sound of their voice
        localised accents turn you off
        – look below the surface means removing the skin –
        ed gein lampshades selling for a song
        – coughing fat girl with milkshake lips

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        there seems to be a healthy dose
        of
        infatuation
        kissing ( possibly open mouth )
        simulated acts of sexual congress
        stains on the furniture
        startling carpet burns
        seductive voices
        seductive disguises
        cinematic underwear
        colorful language
        and then one day
        you see the skins
        of adolescent blundering
        in the trashcan

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        open mouth so the air rushes in
        expanded lungs
        explorative tongues
        – a wall of masks –
        the adolescents will take control
        of the landscape and the machines
        – a well oiled lever at the foundry in leviathan

        Like

    • multiplemichael

      for $20 the gentleman would speak to you
      through a screen in the wall
      about an illicit romance
      between man and word
      it would seem that man
      has a voracious appetite
      for the word
      sensible people
      would say that
      it is misguided passion

      Like

      • eatmorewords

        misguided passion
        a dead end romance, illicit
        like those folk in Kentucky in love with their sisters –
        the $20 man wears the finest of suits, a man for hire
        a voice of honey
        used to do voiceovers for adverts for German cars**

        **79% couldn’t point to Germany on a map

        Like

  2. multiplemichael

    WHICH IS EASIER— TO UNDRESS IN FRONT OF 1,000 ATOMIC BOMBS
    OR 1,000 TELEVISION SETS ?
    with all of your income
    why do you wear cheap socks ?
    when poetry circles around like a vulture
    it makes things worse
    poetry stolen from cartoon captions

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      all caps sentences are read silently yet aggressively inside my head – the noise from a 1,000 to sets blur into a tornado of drone* – only rappers can afford expensive socks –
      a new pair for each new day

      *the drone, constant
      like that radio station in St.Petersburg Florida that played Stairway to Heaven on a 24hr loop

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        all CAP sentences ( screaming ???)
        people with weak eyesight love all CAPS
        I love all CAPS
        why dabble in an inferior case ?
        proper niche——–big bird pants
        T.S. Eliot an inert haunter
        making mooing sounds

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        ALL CAP EMAILS ANGER THE SHY MAN
        NO IDEA IF ITS PERSONAL
        DAILY PARANOIA
        FEAR OF THE INBOX
        ALL CAPS AND WRITTEN IN RED
        MIS-READ
        INTERPRETATION INCORRECTLY ASSIGNED
        TS ELIOTS VOICE SAVED IN ACETATE

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        1,000 ATOMIC BOMBS (living in the shadows)
        the biological trap of sex
        the bondage of employment to support those accidents
        never to taste freedom again—the cosmonaut suit no longer fits
        endless repetitious and boring hours away from the cave
        accompanied by a lack of appreciation
        the inner child-writer becomes a lump of coal
        powerless to erase the past or create the future

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        you were not an accident you were told again and again you were not an accident just an exception
        – bondaged by the chains that bind the apron strings of the matriarch to the machine
        factory
        system of repeated patterns the daily trudge
        knee high through treacle
        sticky knees attacked by bees

        this past the future this moment is exactly what it should be

        poets filibustering for love

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        the lady at the library
        said that there are no more originals (ONLY COPIES)
        men have been known to fabricate book titles for the librarian
        to watch her surf the library catalog
        to squirm in a carnivalesque manner
        regularization of randomness
        (+) everything one can get away with
        ****the anticipated honeymoon
        is one million times better
        than repeating the honeymoon

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        strengthen the spines

        want to be wrapped around her like a bandage – hoping the meat is thoroughly defrosted – garnering opinions on hiking boots – a tax on stupidity – drinking and looking out of the window – deliver driver with a box steps out of a van and moves with purpose to a door he’s never seen before – turnstiles spinning like a ghost is leaving the building – I think I’m growing – and a book laid down for a minute looks like a bird about to take flight leaving the words scattered on the table –

        – there was contact, there is evidence of this – there was
        contact – in a field of cows of wet grass – landing marks –
        let time fold into itself like flightless origami
        paper birds –

        the continual roadworks reveal the intestines beneath -sluices and the pipes that feed and take away –

        and how could you know what was under the camouflage?

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        THE FEAR OF MANIPULATIVE FEMININE WOMEN
        fears about gender—nonphysical castration
        hints of transvestism —circus transvestism
        the circus as a battleground for Lucifer
        siphoning vital fluids from men as employment
        women who look like John Wayne
        rough-and-tumble women
        you can smell the saddle

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        the lines drawn years ago blurred and well trodden – angry dinosaur not happy that they’ve been left behind –
        he feminine & masculine she & they – blurred – a woman with a penis and man with breasts – confusion at the toilet door cubicle entrance confusion at the exit
        IS IT SANITISED
        – IS IT SANITISED? –

        – x in the box
        a missing chromosome
        JOHN WAYNES saddle on eBay

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        it was a toss-up
        a new bra for the old lady
        or a bulletproof vest
        a love relationship
        pure accident
        pure psychosis
        both
        when it comes to poetry
        it has little to do with what is said
        and everything to do with who is saying it

        Like

    • multiplemichael

      TO UNDRESS IN FRONT OF 1,000 ATOMIC BOMBS
      ferocious nudity—can nudity be ferocious ?
      stripped away—soon to be defiled
      vulnerable to the faceless rape
      ———————————-deconditioning
      having been a child sent to Sunday School
      taught a warped religion—Backwoods Christianity
      not a single person ever thought about “PREREQUISITE”

      Like

  3. multiplemichael

    the tiny holes in the life jacket
    permit one to smell the stuffing
    ecclesiastical dust (a true thesaurus)
    ———————-
    marooned in a world
    where people drink cheap wine
    with octogenarian buttered toast
    and fresh pigeon droppings
    ———————-
    trying to sleep
    with Gina Lollobrigida
    constantly pulling your nose

    Like

  4. multiplemichael

    simple-minded presumptions frequently dupe us
    Gina Lollobrigida pulling our noses
    what is an accurate expression of our imagination ?
    night owls listening to jazz and writing poetry
    pampered by the girl at the coffee counter
    giving her a couple of spider pills on the sly
    smelling her fingers as she massages your neck
    textures of Thelonious Monk in the background
    somewhere magicians are performing tricks

    Like

  5. multiplemichael

    they say that you have a conduit from your mind
    to a television screen
    spectators watch you comb your hair
    the theater of Johnny Boy
    —————————
    —————————
    that sex arrangement you had with Mrs. Curie
    SHE was colorless and cool to the touch
    outrageous violations in the bedroom
    electric blankets— alternating lube
    wet at first and then super glue dry
    pleasure on one foot—suffering on the other
    the path to ecstasy was also the path to annihilation
    the image of a mushroom cloud stamped on each hand

    Like

  6. multiplemichael

    1,000 atomic bombs in a heap of feces
    love has grown smaller
    the astronaut carrying his environment with him
    daily mutations—more controlled
    rather than letting them occur at random
    long ago conventional poetry
    became conversational poetry
    at first the endless comments seem like gibberish
    but there is a ring of authentic experience
    MODERN DAY VIRGIL
    MODERN DAY DANTE
    MODERN DAY RIMBAUD
    voices from the dark sides of human nature

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      love was cut short like his hair when he joined the military* and was given a gun
      – soldiers are broken down and rebuilt like Lego men with on/off switches

      is all this gibberish?
      can the casual observer join the dots?

      my oldest t-shirt is green and 23years old

      * no hippy soldiers welcome here

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        a bug detector
        on constant scan for listening devices
        grenades under the pillow
        sexual gadgetry
        and other hi-tech mischief
        orchestrated lovemaking
        hand-to-hand wrestling
        aggressive libido
        seemingly inexhaustible

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        bugs in the system retracing thoughts – when you used an old typewriter they knew what you were writing – they listeners for the sound of your finger hitting the key then the key hitting the paper – it was all in the timing –
        precise calculations
        an old stopwatch – no fancy technology – just words on paper

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        THE INACCURACY OF UNESSENTIALS
        what a mouth full
        the mainland without a footprint
        beholders of poetry nesting in the trees
        sometimes it was difficult to sleep at night
        the burlesque was loud and easy to visit
        a place where the dark side was revealed
        not a single grain of concern
        no life after death

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        Unessentials vs essentials
        wants and needs based analysis
        I WANT I WANT I WANT I WANT
        baby bird swooping down and stealing words
        bird nest stanza high in the rooftops of trees
        – the leaves drop in this season the leaves drop until the tree is naked –

        no burlesque here*
        nipple tassles spinning like
        propellers

        *its all burlesque

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        for large sums of money
        it is simple to set up reciprocal relations
        the complexity of human passion
        daily psycho-critiques on WordPress
        vile functions on the internet
        enemas before birthday cake
        ****someone wrote on one of the birthday cards
        “next year— the passive suffering becomes the active suffering”

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        how old before they grow vaginal teeth ?
        boys at the gym talk about castrating vaginal grip
        —————————————————————
        —————————————————————
        agents signaling through the flames
        UFO interrogations
        of a sort
        openly revealing private areas

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        the teeth hidden behind fur traps
        the fear of entrance
        even worse, the fear of withdraw
        in mapless territories castrated with blunt knifes
        tight suite with wide lapels

        private areas, well tended but out of bounds

        Like

  7. multiplemichael

    LONG AGO CONVENTIONAL POETRY
    BECAME CONVERSATIONAL POETRY
    poetry feeds the furnace of identity recovery
    who or what feeds the naked people living in caves ?
    Angelic Virgins ?
    palpitating poetry from Allen Ginsberg served on a bun
    messianic and reformist beef pre-chewed
    the bread baked in a nuclear oven
    by German scientists

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      the furnace burns 24hrs a day
      the occupants of leviathan have calloused hands & shaved heads
      around the clock shifts –
      meagre meals of brown meat

      – someone brave enough will one day reinvent the wheel –

      all these words are my own*
      all your words are yours

      *unless otherwise stated

      Like

  8. multiplemichael

    POETRY STRAIGHT FROM THE BACK OF A HORSE
    regular folks in need of a catastrophe
    a sharp knife for those who can pay
    a dull knife for everyone else
    constant curiosity about that Kennedy woman
    the one that married a Greek Sodomite
    no bulldozing there—the backdoor opened out not in
    10,000 mistakes but not that one

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      they sent the bulldozers in
      scooped up shanty town – displaced bodies starting a new chapter
      – you had a knife but they had a sword –
      – a cursory glance through the history books – fascinated by the bleeding princess

      Like

  9. multiplemichael

    SELF-REFERENTIAL POETRY
    contradictory conversational poetry
    (thoughts stored in refrigerated vaults)
    prerecorded messages for the detectives
    phantom guns in childhood
    the urgency for orgasm
    the burning drops of piss
    afterwards
    highly condensed layers of meaning
    “I know that you’ve seen a cameo of yourself”
    continuities in comments ?
    private and public fantasies
    each day some nature of postponement

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      all poetry is self referential
      ( what else could it be? )
      all the words are stored in machines, scratched on paper,
      hours spent in the 80s trying to record funny answering machine messages
      – relics and time machines, dusty antiques and a 1,000 computers at the bottom of the sea –
      I’ve had a cameo in my life, scene 4…and I’ve seen my doppelgänger: he was better looking
      – droplets of piss and the burning sensation GET THE LOTION

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        self-referential—-spying through door cracks
        watching people in the restroom abuse themselves
        trying to judge the quality of their performance
        deliciously obscene—-wrong! wrong! wrong!
        a little saccharine makes the poison sweet
        Satan with a shovel-full and a loaded gun

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        sold 4,000 records to a man who played them backwards and found the clue – decoded the secret of leviathan –
        washroom frenzy at 5:15pm
        – a tip of the hat and a spoonful of sugar
        – baby thrown from a moving car
        the freeway moved under you like VHS tape –
        the hidden room on the Mayflower, secrets

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        applied for the job as close ally and let the algorithms do the rest – three weeks later turned them against each other
        – now enemies and fresh bogeymen lurked behind corners and in shadows that moved in the opposite way to nature –

        blacked out for a moment in the cinema foyer and felt I was wrapped in a duvet
        floating in a canoe through the veins of a whale

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        the guy on the phone said that he and his wife
        were drab and disagreeable
        he wanted to know if I had anything NAZI
        for sale
        I explained again about the phonograph albums
        and that I would take cash only
        no checks from South Africa
        or money orders from Canada
        I also stressed that I was not into bondage
        spanking, attack dogs, or fancy knots
        I knew that they were psychopathically cheap
        Andy Warhol would have said, “EXPLOITATIVE”

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        Sylvia Plath with her skin brighter then a Nazi lampshade
        available on eBay (no certificate of authenticity) – luminous skin like she’d spent a week at the Curie house –
        – Nazi lampshade numbered and bright – previous owners dead or missing in a South American mountain range –
        – mysterious online bids

        Like

  10. multiplemichael

    SELF-REFERENTIAL POETRY
    ——–why are we in such a hurry ?
    what was pollution from jet planes
    is now gunsmoke from firesticks
    white man come with violence and language
    build libraries but stock no books
    my local library has three books
    (+) KING JAMES BIBLE
    (+) two books of poetry by Robert Frost
    apocalyptic religious mythology
    and poetry from someone floating in stale time

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      jet plane pollution
      chem trail patterns criss cross the western sky line – people with tin foil hats fear the gamma rays — my local library has fast wifi access and books that talk — to lazy to read — the last remaining book just balances a table where a man spends all day looking for the last clue in a crossword
      –day after day

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        BUZZWORDS FALL FROM THE BACK OF JETS
        clues like the pellets from the backside of rabbits
        copyright your crossword puzzle
        given a choice between a long-term companion
        and a long-term copyright
        men and women go for the copyright
        3 out of 5 prayers are blessings for all the copyrights

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        copyrights will run out one day and the they will feast on the words
        waiting in shadows for the day
        trick or treating
        at pyjama parties the girl decide to dress like whorish vampires, sluttish pilgrims
        – inside the pumpkins head the light gently fades

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        you were talking in your sleep
        about the Bible
        how you enjoyed
        the collective ensemble improvisation
        ————————————————
        strange skin language
        people making God upset
        violating His codes
        suffering narcissistic love
        after all, thinking animals
        who replaced noise with music
        cannot make freedom and discipline coexist

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        school boy theatrics at the dress rehearsal – nervous tongue dropped words
        lost position in the text
        you memorised all the characters
        – music with no context is just noise
        – you go to sleep with tissue in your ears and a pillow over your head

        Like

  11. multiplemichael

    the poster reads, “freedom through fantasy”
    I try to laugh but others don’t join in
    laughter may interfere with postponement of death
    they try to laugh so as not to laugh
    they love and make love in the same fashion

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      Beatle boy in his Cuban heels
      three inches taller – the only boy in town dressed in black —
      singing songs in an English accent
      transatlantic sound landed in a town where they burnt records and didn’t dance*
      vinyl pyre and the energetic dance of fear –

      *only making love on specific days and always in the dark

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        MAKING LOVE LIKE RUBBING STICKS TOGETHER
        the family sex manual has pages missing
        undernourished genitals
        conveyor-belt intercourse
        squealing squaddies
        (padding, canopy, one-word insertion)
        brace yourself baby bird
        15 minutes
        then the rewrite team
        will take over

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        the rewrite team draft in the extras
        part time waitress at the coffee shop
        that actor who forgot his lines the transcript had pages missing
        that typewriter with no vowels
        – the back up team drafted in with tattoos
        – brace yourself for the tremors

        (INSERT THE NAME OF YOUR FIRST LOVE HERE)

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        I had a typewriter afraid of direct sunlight
        ——————————————————-
        poetry is often written in a hostile environment
        try to isolate yourself from an audience
        nudity is acceptable but only to a degree
        no Christmas carols
        or lengthy conversations
        the art cinema of life is too much
        lack of detail is important
        strive for stripped-down material
        permit the reader to fill in information
        often, the poet experiences a voice-over commentary
        this is a victory—listen to yourself
        ****who knows better what should be said ?

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        all first drafts are written in invisible ink to hide embarrassment and harsh critique – the ribbon of my typewriter laces my shoes – the more functions the less likely to be discarded
        – it’s how things survive
        – a bird that can’t fly
        engineless car
        – Christmas is around the corner and sponsored by multinational companies

        screaming into a pillow
        nocturnal exercise

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        making love with the wife on specific days
        ———-BUT WHAT ABOUT THE
        leaping acrobats
        dwarfs
        snake-charmers
        two bearded women
        muscle-dancers
        homo-eroticized boy scouts
        your hand and another hand
        ———-a bit of denying
        but you never confess

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        the love making was marked in the diary
        the routine
        familiarity breeds contempt
        going through the motions with a mask on
        – Boy Scouts now earn badges in voodoo – camping in tight shorts
        – lecherous leader rustling in the bushes
        whittling his wood

        Like

    • eatmorewords

      avoid the people with iceberg eyes, avoid those that tell you the content of their freezer, those that quote sport statistics and those that play with guns –
      those that don’t have a favourite band, those that carry around stones – avoid people with sharp corners, those that melt and perspire
      – those that have never heard jazz or played Russian bingo

      all memories changed a week after the abduction – UFOs seen over the grain silo, you know walk past phone mats and you think you can hear conversations, a lump on your forearm that wasn’t there before, the dimensions of the pyramids

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        SHE was happy to get the extra money
        for $75 all she had to do
        was pat the gentleman on the head
        as he crawled around on the floor
        pat him on the head
        and say, “good baby”
        after about 25 minutes
        the Poet would stand up and leave
        (all writers were half-baked)
        SHE had a thousand questions
        SHE had a special tenderness
        for the baby
        at her age, her life was stuffed with NO-NO-NO
        senior citizen fallacy mongering
        SHE never read poetry with her head
        or her heart
        SHE refused to wear diapers or hearing aids
        SHE continued to touch herself
        although there was no more arousal
        orgasms long gone

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        the passageway was crowded with ancient people
        each one REMINISCENT
        a life worthy of amusement park nourishment
        nothing green or red just “prose brown”
        their literature more uncomfortable than their shoes
        who could savor the pokiness of the menfolk ?

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        —those that have never heard jazz or played the role of Ringo
        Russian bingo for sodomy rights to your behind
        irrational restrictions suddenly seem rational
        the bittersweet truth
        it seems to be lubed
        with something
        that has a terrible smell
        ****pool hall term: anal quicksand

        Like

  12. multiplemichael

    acrobatic white woman wanted for sex
    must be able to write poetry
    must be able to wear pantyhose
    and smell clean—really clean
    NO stockings or garter-belts
    No German to be spoken
    kleptomania OK
    exhibitionism OK
    new permutations OK
    ****may smoke cigarettes but only Italian cigarettes

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      apply now
      24hrs answering machine – leave a message –
      will arrange interviews
      – must be able to write poetry
      – must supply own pens
      (do not dress like a martyr )
      – will not be able to refund travel expenses (enjoy the view)

      – all things considered

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        an answering machine that has a button
        for inverted commas
        habitual plagiarism feeds itself
        ****anything worth stealing ?
        her grin had all the warmth of a well placed finger
        a thousand locks from here to interior sloppy thighs
        the keys are handy but time is the negative factor
        virile for 15 minutes then the dinosaur refuses to spit
        virile for 15 minutes then the dinosaur expires
        you notify Steven Spielberg
        but he is in the same boat

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        the answering machine had a stammer …I gave up half way through…my train of thought was derailed
        I had thieves with sticky fingers inside my brain (in the film the camera panned back to an interior shot of me sitting in chair looking at a vintage phone
        it never rings
        in the background a car falls off a cliff)

        a slight welt bruised blue thigh

        this whole thing is just nonsense without the green screen

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        THAT DAMN DIONYSIAC ANSWERING MACHINE
        24 hour answering machine with footlights
        solitary individuals leave messages
        lovers and immediate family
        have tones of psychological tension
        often they seem out of place
        SACRILEGIOUS
        ****the phosphorescent flashing light of home

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        24 hour answering machine in 57 languages
        (some in morse code
        some in binary – 46 minutes to hear a full message)
        – I call up once a day just to hear her voice – when I read her postcards I do it in her voice – solitary figures seek companionship like a lost ship seeks the lonely lighthouse beam – out of place with all the other white people

        Like

  13. multiplemichael

    virgin or near-virgin gymnast wanted for sex
    open gender—plumbing not important
    must desire intoxicating experiences
    artful simplicity—but not to the Robert Frost level
    nor anything close to E.A. Poe
    weightlessness in bed is a plus
    eroticized violence is a NO-NO
    no scissors or knives
    no ropes or duct tape
    no need to be a full-length novel
    ****overheated longings and a 30 day supply (last birthday wish)

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      GSOH
      non-smoker
      must have own teeth (7 or more) – agreed safe words shared –
      documented history required (will need to see paperwork) – send examples of work –
      – all weapons will be made safe
      when we reframe the narrative
      – a stanza here a stanza there

      no bruises

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        but what if she is some type of carnivorous harlot
        from a Michael Crichton novel ?
        ripe embryos for your seed
        people think that they may be sterile
        but great writers can create miracles
        a full load of jism with fatso swimmers
        ****just think—a bumper sticker saying
        BABY BIRDS ON BOARD

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        ALL WEAPONS WILL BE MADE SAFE
        SHE was flesh and blood
        but her crotch seemed to be a weapon
        “stay away—I may reproduce !”
        the man on the street has only one thought
        dribble the seed and run
        ****the poet writes about LOVE separated off
        by an unbridgeable moat

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        safety catch on all explosives removed
        nuclear submarines
        phallic metal under Siberian frost frozen
        she was frigid &
        warned you off with a wagging finger
        —all the neighbourhood dogs sniffing at her crutch–*
        – erotic metaphor lost on the Sunday school congregation

        *here comes sickness

        Like

  14. multiplemichael

    the doctor discovered that they only had one pain pill left
    it was one of those tiny pellets they give cats before a flight
    I swallowed it dry— expecting nothing
    the best I could think
    “I might survive”
    ———————————————-
    ———————————————-
    priestly silence
    I needed something to keep my tongue inside

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      the final pill was being sold online – Kentucky pharmacists made backwood placebos – tiny pellets for those with four legs – fur in throat (honeymoon routines)
      – the best I could think was “nothing” –
      a cartoon bubble of thought that needs filling

      the pill was rough going down

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        THE PILL WAS ROUGH GOING DOWN
        Good Lord, say that a thousand times in a year
        you feel like an image on a TV screen
        any spectators are never seen
        televised people are blind
        in that sense
        one direction actor-spectator relationships
        “TO SEE WITHOUT BEING SEEN”
        ———————————————–
        ———————————————–
        being the only white male in the tribe
        how could one not feel like an outsider ?
        at night the streets are crowded
        with adolescents
        their favor or disfavor
        could be bought

        Liked by 1 person

      • multiplemichael

        NOSTALGIA WAS MUCH MORE DIFFICULT TO SWALLOW
        ———-any attraction to the past——————-
        spoons and forks and fancy knives
        fashionable American television
        sarcastic drivers on the express
        pungent sexual odors
        on the elevator
        the hint of
        “NEVER LINGER”

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        there is a time and place for nostalgia: you’ll back on this time and recall
        – attracted to the memory of the past but not the actual facts –
        – the magnetic pull
        gravitational shifts –
        a queue at the toll booth as they try and escape the city in advance of the announcement – never linger
        and keep moving
        stay off the moors

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        Robert Frost in a circle-jerk
        an elite group of scientists
        (scientific sizable apparatus)
        secret effeminate males from the pool hall
        overoptimistic Robert Frost
        pubic hair and devil horns
        the quintessence of poetic masculinity
        PROTOTYPE POET
        borrowed behavioral styles
        ——redefinition——
        ————————————————–
        ————————————————–
        watching the facial reactions of Robert Frost
        practitioners in the circle-jerk
        one can only imagine
        leaves colored by lustful feelings
        many of the trees were angry
        the discharge of semen
        in any non-procreative context
        was a violation of nature
        the trees were knee-deep in nature

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        circle – jerk collapsed as the weakest member walked away – red faced
        ashamed at what he had done –
        not everything is written in books
        not everything comes with an instruction manual –
        – like being blindfolded in a library and being forced to pick a book –

        many people in Florida have hidden agendas –

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        Robert Frost in a circle-jerk
        a gentle breeze and a touch of the wind
        heavy breathing and the smell of Aeolian lube
        pressurized scrotums ready to dispense
        “to the open fields little seeds”

        Like

    • multiplemichael

      POETRY TO DIVIDE SOCIETY
      Robert Frost was quoted,
      “I got your gender in one hand
      and your identity in the other”
      not one single book in the library
      has him with an “active”
      penetrative voice

      Like

  15. multiplemichael

    WHAT TYPE OF POETRY DOES ONE WRITE ?
    raised in a semiliterate household
    12 miles from a village
    on a dirt/mud road
    surrounded by cousins
    go-go girls at a “all nude all the time” establishment
    waitresses where the front door is also the back door
    menfolk who drink and smoke and deal in meth
    who black-market deer meat and ginseng root
    where “stairway to heaven” is played on a banjo

    Like

  16. multiplemichael

    it was really dark—a public shared darkness
    everyone questioned the key ingredient
    was it a doughnut
    or a simple Willie Wonka ?
    it was silent
    perhaps a maiden fart
    THANK GOD it wasn’t a Joplin rag
    with four tubas

    Like

  17. multiplemichael

    I don’t know what to think
    about your table
    growing extra legs
    it sleeps in a darker area
    where light is blocked
    most people are insecure
    because they were missing
    a parent in childhood
    one parent
    one generalized parent
    LIFE finds one straggling behind
    quick glances in a mirror
    a rolled-up pancake creature
    careening headlong into another day

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      little jimmy with a missing parent made one from wood and junk – rather motionless but with a clock for a face – smiling at 10 to 2 –
      he confided in it and the clock tick tocked with the beat of his heart – that once sturdy table he
      and walked away to paint a map of the world
      – two parent families and their dysfunctional kids starting fires at the side of road –
      a dead cat found in the back yard
      a trench coat in the wardrobe – drunk mummy at 3:25pm –

      life finds staggering ways to shock

      a tunnel between Ohio and Florida

      Like

      • eatmorewords

        watertight tunnel as deep as a giraffe is high – a 1,000 Charles Bronson look-a-likes tunnelling away-
        dirt deposited through trouser legs –
        Mexicans with motorbikes ready to jump the wall –
        the great escape to the pool hall
        – anecdotes shared
        – stories stored by the detectives
        – little pieces of puzzles

        Like

  18. multiplemichael

    those fires started on the side of the road
    they were eensy-weensy fires
    the color of the flames
    like a million goldfish flopping
    ————————————–
    masturbating with a notion of wetness
    how things move and cling
    YOUNG AND SOPPING WET
    ****oddly flavored youth

    Like

  19. multiplemichael

    as a child you were paid to think that the missing parent
    was REPUGNANT
    that he was off somewhere romancing a younger woman
    life with the missing parent had been slapstick farce at best
    any degree of happiness was essentially proportional
    to the degree of emotional involvement with both parents
    —————————————————
    although Robert Frost liked to measure things
    he never came to grips with “acquaintance space”

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      a rotating procession of parental replacements
      some to drunk
      others with small hands
      some with a police record
      others with pin eyes
      – a comedy of errors in partner selection –
      stunted growth was a phrase often mention – the single parent and the child with the burnt matches
      – negative attachment and a shake of the head –
      a birthday present of a one way ticket and a leather suitcase

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        ROBERT FROST OUTSIDE LATE AT NIGHT
        the autumn trees were being stripped bare
        with his lizard lips he knew resuscitation
        was out of the question
        should he collapse
        there would be no tomorrow

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        the naked trees and the shortening days makes one think of the grave –
        – how should we collapse into this moment?
        – how should we celebrate these days here?

        Robert Frost with frost bite outside looking through your window – the new snowman

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        a one way ticket to an eroticized location
        a slow distillation of thoughts
        a constant reduction
        mocking lip-suckers
        bespectacled library workers
        literature full of backsides
        spank magazines
        with coupons

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        no one ever argues with me
        when I say that Robert Frost
        was a third-rate friend
        I do not even know what third-rate means
        it is just something people say
        Robert was the ugly duckling of the Frost family
        he was like pizza on Thanksgiving
        or serious flirtation in a strip club

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        where I’m from Robert Frost is know as Bob Frost – an altogether different beast
        obscenity mother I was once inside – yellow mountains full the coffee cup – she always got your name wrong
        – Spielberg called he wants you for a remake of Close Encounters – he knows you have knowledge of the landings

        I once tried to list all the words in my vocabulary and to count all the vowels in these comments

        the pole at the strip bar was shiny but it smelt

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        what does one coat a doodley-squat cake with ?
        ——–bob frost
        wrecked cars, stoves, washing machines, refrigerators
        the front yard is full—scrap metal
        lawn bric-a-brac—airline pilots treasure it
        in Nebraska they look for cattle bones
        old age is not an option
        painter, philosopher, poet
        almost bogus
        accumulated cultural rubbish
        identities learned from the internet
        stains from something sacred
        on the pillow
        multi-color phlegm
        the nurse laughed when I showed it to her
        “you’ve lived so long with that”
        ————-what did SHE mean ?

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        that time Robert Frost took a summer job counting beans for NASA
        – a small warehouse in Nebraska of cattle bones and birds –
        a solitude not seen since Thoreau – rainbow spit
        coloured phlegm
        – a man with a limp

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        HOLY COW
        nothing like a one way ticket and a suitcase
        for your birthday
        all those years at the Leviathan
        then after the fire
        you started selling shirts on the street
        “get your identification cards here”
        the millions of mistakes
        that underscored that sense of insignificance
        yet it supplied the pinto beans and cornbread
        postcards from Kentucky
        relatives all cranked up

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        my identification card was dog eared and the picture was a younger me with youthful hair
        – at the gates they said there was no correlation between the picture and the face in front of them – I was frayed and dog eared – rejected at the entrance

        a belly of pinto beans
        raw pork
        cornbread for poorer relations who send food reviews on postcards

        severance pay from leviathan

        Like

  20. multiplemichael

    old hippy poets have lasted forever
    they were designed and built
    not just assembled like young skunks
    back in the day, men were proud of their fittings
    strutting around with a huge codpiece
    on the front of their breeches
    ****one could take it off and air their nuts
    with no consequence whatsoever

    Liked by 1 person

  21. multiplemichael

    one never knows how far northwest
    of London
    that famous circle resides
    the one that collects information
    even wayward poetry
    billions of strings of pedestrianisms
    “your momma jokes”
    everything gets reinterpreted
    leaches on your wang
    vaginal ulcers
    lonesome roads
    misleading distractions involving Kentucky
    naked children playing by the road
    their tiny flashing eyes
    5 or 6 skeletal dogs
    some with hair some without
    FOILS OF DISTRACTION
    (anonymous collaborators)
    obstructive Russians
    trying to wed copyists
    one way tickets to Cheltenham
    with a big old shiny ring
    fiber-optic and beyond
    information exhaustion
    buffoons who live where nothing grows
    what they got to say ?
    “GOD IS GOOD”
    everybody in the tribe is ugly
    crap food—crap sleeping quarters
    deformed turkey-neck foreskins
    and yet
    every word is recorded
    monitored by artificial intelligence
    just mention thermonuclear
    the temptress of the Talmud
    thermonuclear egotism
    something to be egotistical about
    just mention Robert Frost
    and there will be a knock at the door

    Liked by 1 person

    • eatmorewords

      in London everyone ignores everyone – mobile neck strain repetitive finger ache
      distance means nothing
      and the river is dirty and brown like unwashed kids down the diamond mine – skeletal digs gnash &
      pull at the leash
      Pavlovian like my erection at thoughts of her the blood throbs and rushes to the tip
      the point
      – the underground tunnels and tubes where my relatives slept to avoid explosions
      – the opinions of everyone filtered through a prism of acceptable truth
      – everyone I work with laugh when I say I write
      – every word is recorded
      and feed down tubes to ears in Latvia, Prague, Florida

      Liked by 1 person

      • multiplemichael

        I step outside the room
        where a scientific discussion of London
        is being played out as if on stage
        I am romancing Ingrid Bergman
        she is young and beautiful
        a true sensory universe

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        I was young once
        a baby then a child
        I fell in love with a communist and we held hands and discussed the dialectic
        historical materialism and the spectre that is haunting Europe –

        in a way they discussed a world of pure numbers
        of pure science

        a truly beautiful world moved
        in the alleyways of an expanding city

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        sometimes men crawled into a hollow spot
        and dried out (a dry-out)
        a few dry-outs in what passed as a hospital
        the locals referred to it as the horse-pital
        addiction gripped and gripping
        one leg shorter I guess
        ghosts with books
        that they can’t turn the pages
        disapproval after disapproval
        I wanted to write poetry but I was too busy
        life was one ticklish task after another
        God made me cross my t’s
        and dot my i’s
        the enemy introduced me to drink

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        men crawl into holes (real and metaphorical) –
        men crawl into shadows –
        i tried to dry out
        I tried to give up the bad things – but I enjoy bad things so I continue –
        I said it before that I’ve stopped growing but my trousers seem to be shorter –
        – ghosts with books with ghost writers and invisible words

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        the first clue:
        SADOMASOCHISTIC magazines everywhere
        hollow spaces and the desire to finger them
        the sound of a metronome as you jack
        painful attraction
        feeling like a swollen puddle in public
        can we stand in the shadows ?
        can we hold hands and not speak ?

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        mechanical movement
        in time like a marching band
        – hand on the root
        stamping boots that reflect and shine –
        spit and polish
        spit and polish
        increased lung capacity
        – military man masochist man
        monthly subscription to certain magazines – he prefers in old school pictures on paper with staples, nothing online buffering ruined the rhythm –
        we hold hands and face the waves

        Like

    • eatmorewords

      the insects were to busy looking down – burrowing down
      eating shit
      multiple eyes they can see behind
      and round the corners
      – I was hysteric once
      there are pills for that
      I rattled when I walked

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        when the bugs consume the manure
        they hear sounds not associated with nature
        combinations of bizarre elements
        simultaneously repellent and fascinating
        watching the insects
        can be both frightening
        and amusing

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        cold cadavers warm up in hell
        you can see them sweat
        – all tainted with our own sins the Catholics don’t have a monopoly on it –

        the smell of Sunday service, sulphate & disdain

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        rooted in the sins of the Catholics
        nightmares
        juxtaposed with brutality and comedy
        laughing at other people
        until we were the other people
        life was an interstate highway
        with rest areas
        men on parole
        men double-crossed
        constant psychological baiting
        chasing and being chased
        incendiary intercourse
        DVD motion pictures
        endless sex with scarecrows
        nudging the limits
        double penetration
        leather gloves
        technicolored poop

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        the church had scarecrows outside to ward off the unbelievers – tuned away at the gates – your tithe refused no down payments excepted
        – I had leather gloves I left one on the ark –

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        no cure for the Catholic smell
        one just has to crawl back into the ground
        the spreading of words
        poetry becomes a disease
        vulnerable readers
        the potential of corruption
        tied to the top of the ambulance
        who’s gonna drive me home ?

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        the smell wafts like incense through the pews – the burial plot I reserved is cold and frosted over
        – worms in the mud

        O’reader with thine milky eye
        gaze upon these words

        Like

  22. multiplemichael

    I remember people complaining about the smell of Catholics
    thinking I wasn’t Catholic—I relaxed feeling safe
    but I could smell myself—a sinful odor at best
    a small child in the seat next to me
    was coloring with crayons
    a Jonestown-style massacre
    he and I were there on the ground

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      not all Catholics smell but some do – it’s only reasonable to think so – the smell isn’t that of a babies head,
      freshly flowered rose,
      a French cigarette exported illegally across boarders,
      the smell is strange and damp and sticks in your nose –
      sticks like sin and cast the first stone –
      child eating crayons purple teeth and colourful poop

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        mimicking the delivery of the colorful poop
        at the tea counter at work
        with a pretend microphone
        you circle the room
        Roy Orbison singing in your head
        Roy Orbison straight from your mouth
        sexual sparks like the Fourth of July

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        blind Roy Orbison dead eyes behind his dark glasses-* – his guide dog alway off stage, to the left trained not to bark –
        constantly mistaken for Del Shannon (names that fly over the heads of the youth) –
        – Kanye is no Roy –

        *blind Roy had never seen a pretty woman

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        to mimic the delivery of poop at work
        how bizarre
        dark acts in public
        somewhere between charm and nightmare
        the baby bird unraveled
        visible to an audience
        —————————-
        for all those who questioned your poetic compositions
        vivid images and rhythms possibly stolen from DarkTown
        foghorns from trouser legs
        peculiarities outside the sense of smell

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        after an incident in the work toilets
        you got the nickname “the elephant”- solo pisser
        – the humidity in there meant you left with a sheen of sweat on your top lip –
        the smell stuck and you couldn’t wash it out

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        marbles for eyes
        embedded with clues
        two levels of mysterious subtext
        crayon artwork from children
        depicting the absurdity of life
        saccharine kisses—hits and misses
        reversed expectations
        the hand with its history
        of self-defeat
        go to bed
        it gets busy
        no body to say “NO”
        nostalgic squirts

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        marbled eyed child crayon drawing goon drew a human as big as a house
        a big yellow scribble, a circle of yellow sun – the therapist* spent hours looking for meaning and sub text – went to bed with a head full of mess

        *therapist, a small away from sex crime (the rapist)

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        THE PLEASURES OF THE UNEXPECTED
        eating crayons and having colorful poops
        taking them to work and placing them on display
        someone said that it was an act of the subconscious
        photos were sent to the Academy of Fine Arts
        HEIGHTENED REALITY
        your supervisor frowned on it
        Modern Day Diapers published a critique
        “peculiar and ridiculous but heart warming
        perhaps seasonal exhibits/holiday displays ?”

        Like

  23. multiplemichael

    I thought I was an actor playing a part in Ulysses
    but I was just caught up in someone’s neuroses
    the sex and the drugs—just exploratory sidelines
    constantly questioned and derided by reality
    asked to keep a codebook
    and then tortured for such

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      i thought i was an actor in Platoon
      four clicks up river
      swatting away flies with a machine gun – no sex
      just drugs and dead comrades and a smell of petroleum
      – underground tunnels hid secrets
      each day was torture –
      moist air and disease

      i sat under trees waiting form baby bird to fly me home

      i awoke in darkdown six years later screaming

      Like

      • eatmorewords

        the larger community are all divisible by one – a amalgam of voices, noice, material, thoughts, jingling pockets of change, none of them works of art but all of them unique – after all
        it’s in the eye of the beholder – folklore belongs in enchanted forests, not modern cities of monorails and robot policeman

        I opened the door
        I had to leave

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        the hard-luck poet
        “they say that some men will violently pursue the word”
        nothing suspicious about dark passions in Dark Town
        anything that smolders with sensuous possibilities is welcome
        ———————————————————————————
        taking a colorful poop at the tea counter at work
        put it on television—give the audience a close-up view
        even critics may find aesthetic potential
        ****some say “art” some say “craft”

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        the close up revealed cracks beneath the surface – you could see the glue that binds –
        a poet but only in words –
        and then the nagging doubts creep up like a sinister uncle at thanks giving – have I shown my hand? – am I really a man of words? am I a man of MY words? –

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        question yourself no more
        go out and purchase 12 pairs
        of expensive socks
        wait until Christmas
        and surprise yourself
        TELL THE CLERK THAT YOU WANT DISTINCTIVE SOCKS
        nothing sentimental or cumbersome
        explosively bold colors—-YES
        the comfort of compressed clouds
        ****standing at the tea counter at work
        you can casually flash your new-found personality

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        expensive socks hidden under clown trousers – colours and patterns never seen before on this island – 12 pairs and the one legged man – the clerk wrapped them in yesterday’s newspaper where the crossword went unfinished

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        folklore like a second skin
        attitudes about jazz
        all efforts to bridge that chasm
        they say that the path is darkening
        that DarkTown exists outside the capacity
        of white men with strong arms
        of white men with strong lips
        ****intelligence is the sworn enemy

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        folklore
        foreskin removed with blunt knifes
        starting at blue away from sin
        – the organised man;
        the scientist they hired didn’t like jazz
        couldn’t handle the randomness of it – there was no linear narrative – nothing from which he could tabulated and draw conclusions
        – heavy lungs & puffed out cheeks

        Like

  24. multiplemichael

    she promised romance
    lip-sync that baby bird
    r-o-m-a-n-c-e
    it may take something to agitate her
    no, not a punch in the stomach
    or $50 in one dollar bills
    passionate soft kisses
    nuzzles, a firm grip
    eye contact
    lots of eye contact
    torment brings reward
    make time stretch out
    what do you smell
    when you pull in close
    to the back of her neck ?
    PSYCHOANAYZE the moment
    ****follow the map south

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      you tried to analyse the moment but one part of you overrode the other part
      the weaker part, the part loved by your mother
      – time always stretched out with her
      – you couldn’t time it with conventional apparatus-a broken watch is right twice a day –
      – the hair on your neck
      erect

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        I tried to analyze each moment
        but all I could think of
        was urbanites with large numbers
        of disposable socks
        unmarked matching socks
        actual toes and heels
        ————————–
        upscale urbanities
        with unlimited socks
        with no restrictions
        about purchasing more

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        the phenomenon of the missing sock – two go in only one leave – the one legged charities door knock to collect odd socks –
        rich urbanites and rappers only wear socks once ( this I know)

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        copying Elvis Presley’s lyrics
        and selling them to Flarf poets
        ————————————–
        sensory overload baby bird
        gotta get some hip-swinging going on
        laughing at the frayed status of other poets
        they will never reach the decadent mark
        real life with its avalanche of horrors
        tricks of fate and other cruelties
        ****self-conscious cutlery
        (+) trims on the hour
        (+) slices on the half-hour

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        Elvis never set foot in England –
        fear of royalty and crowns
        – jewellery jealousy
        – to fat to fuck he retreated to mementoes of young Priscilla-
        was it legal at that time?

        – buried the flarf
        – burnt the jumpsuits

        I’m glad you mentioned the cutlery

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        WALKING FLARF (as in W-A-L-K-I-N-G F-L-A-R-F)
        going from ramshackle small town
        to ramshackle small town
        making love to all the women
        one glorious marvel to the next
        oozing slots to explore
        from flaxen hair
        to bald blue monkey butts
        no room for squeamishness
        reprehensible acts upon request

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        readers at Flarf Headquarters
        have taken notice of Mr. Caine’s
        working class cockney accent
        for an outsider, the guys at the pool hall
        thought he was okay as a butler in Batman
        some of the older gents recalled his brother David
        the famous “Nuthouse Flamboyant Flame”

        Like

  25. multiplemichael

    Mr. Caine once vomited at hearing Robert Frost glorify nature
    he thought sodomy was worth the ticket
    he enjoyed a good coffeehouse descriptor
    always amazed at readers disproportionate sensitivity
    Americans are so squeamish about foreskins
    geographically—not a good location for cheese
    **** “piddle gets on me shoes” (DarkTown jitters)

    Like

      • multiplemichael

        WORD SUBSTITUTIONS
        an entire poem using word substitutions
        no validity for translation
        educated readers measuring
        themselves first
        word-for-word mapping
        surface deformities
        mesmerized by moonlight
        symbolic love and factual love
        female sideshow gimmicks
        genital skin without color
        the smell of toiletries
        what was pink in youth
        odd shades of gray
        a curtain of boar-like hair
        individual strands
        guitar strings
        no visible cuts or bruises
        no “crime scene” tape

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        I wear crime scene tape to hold up my trousers and in this weather
        my lips swelled blood turn blue – or shades of
        – a pale skin red when raw
        ointment for the rash
        balms for the bruised
        – I peeked behind the curtains and it was dark and tasted metallic
        tasted of iron like I was sucking on a nail –

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        a poem covered with word substitution gravy
        ———-word substitution gravy (?)
        cocky and impetuous gravy
        the fallibility of poets in plain sight
        the wearing of the green
        nature surrounded by cutlery
        old school teachers
        Dollar Store pads
        the name LENNIE comes to mind
        development beyond the ape
        lights out—child-like adults
        the frontier is tamed
        nobody flags the trains
        the past was difficult but it is gone
        unrestrained adults run wild

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        have we reached a point where we evolve no more? just beyond simian – from child
        to boy then men then death?
        – a name carved into a desk
        old school teacher where the land masses were joined –
        difficult to contain the past as it spills out from all your pores –

        we still need to develop
        the frontier is receding

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        a meager existence
        fashioning poetry from WORD SUBSTITUTIONS
        interchangeable love interests from the coffee counter
        the girl with the super round eyes
        the younger one fresh from prison
        someone mentioned her somewhat masculine exterior
        I kept thinking “she’s got a dong”

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        the year of death took more words away from us – we are unable to substitute
        we need more words
        we need new meanings
        – some things are perfect and will never change (knifes, forks) – the coffee girl daydreams of English tea –
        has she got a dong?
        how does she walk?

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        when one searches for companionship
        at the coffee counter
        it is easy to find oneself dominated
        aggressive feminine word substitutions
        she says one thing three ways
        careless chatter about squirrels
        wild beauty in movie star sex
        two beds or it becomes a prizefight
        ****scissors under the pillow

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        line after line leading to no conclusion – worse when read like John Wayne – galloping across the page – a poor plot
        of soft bondage – the safe word forgotten the beatings continue – the fad for Swedish meatballs – flarf upon flarf

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        LINE AFTER LINE LEADING TO NO CONCLUSION
        like saying minute after minute
        living minute after minute
        the conclusion being the ground
        will someone be kneeling ?
        will someone be looking up ?
        the callous disposal of flesh
        liquids drained beforehand
        they say that they glue your holes shut
        but they do so only for pay
        too lazy to warm their hands

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        old hold stitched with Cotten thread that over time disintegrate allowing the liquid to leak out –
        slippery surfaces under foot
        – bloodless Californian full of holes
        unable to stay warm in the western sun

        Like

  26. multiplemichael

    you knew it was an obvious lie
    100% synthetic poetry
    not even Flarf is 100% synthetic
    —————————————–
    Elvis impersonator poetry
    hikes along the brown trail
    wardrobe poop
    sightings of Anal Nessie
    possibly misinterpreted
    poetry replaces actual life
    ELVIS IMPERSONATOR POETRY

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      Elvis rumours persist
      continual life –
      a rhinestone star shines bright – rumours persist of sighting:
      atop o’ mountains
      NASCAR supporter, trucker cap, a belt buckle the size of a Thanksgiving table
      – elvis as American myth
      – impersonator who is just stealing the lines of others – Charlie the flarf man, a thief in the night

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        one can only ponder
        if poets get paid to trash-talk NASCAR ?
        fence-jumpers know nothing of 200mph
        breast swollen goats and thirsty flies
        traditional intercourse with a slight infection
        pot-menders calling out names
        money, tobacco, and racing machines
        dirt-smudged children out of focus
        fading images of something in life
        beyond mere existence

        Like

  27. multiplemichael

    the structure of poetry
    episodes
    drama from a tortured life
    living in an industrial spider web of squalor
    battlegrounds without war
    sometimes the lab animals escape
    the desire for pocket change grows too strong
    tremendous sadness left behind
    death made up to look simplistic
    just some bleach and water
    the red goes away

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      the old poets of post used to send each other’s line at a time –
      took months to write a stanza
      – the kids with no pocket money
      scavenge at the edge of town
      – empty chapters of a dying town
      chocking chimneys
      animals on the ark
      they re-routed all the traffic through dark town

      a midnight jazz soundtrack, tremendous sadness

      Like

  28. multiplemichael

    line after line with no conclusion
    scratched skin before the wedding
    considerable makeup to hide the eyes
    migratory birds
    once romanced prove dangerous
    mixed drinks at the bar, thighs and alcohol
    a clever salesman’s trick, communication before sex

    Like

  29. multiplemichael

    ALL THOSE POETS STANDING OUTSIDE ON THE STREET
    are they really agents of the Lord ?
    or are they the weak moments of life on earth ?
    what is a weak moment in a great display of nature ?
    all this drama and dialogue
    at any snap— harsh words and violence
    smaller folks being knocked unconscious
    who would dare bear witness on the thugs ?
    thieves with copyrights and sharp knives
    thieves with Freudian theories
    naked family members actively engaged
    old guilt and old debts visible in photographs
    Swedish yellow straw-like hair and bright blue buttocks
    gossip about the first standing ape and her muscular organ
    a constant collection of spectators
    painful significance—the poor fellow
    TRIUMPH—or surrender to the shadows

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      the agents of the Lord were just that – AGENTS – secret agents recruited during a weak moment –
      proactively establishing drama triangles –
      telling people what to do
      – recording outcomes
      – a withering muscle (weak vein)
      – there is nothing of significance
      – the bright colours of an African flag*

      *Fela Kuti wrote the anthem

      Like

  30. multiplemichael

    a thousand years of experiments with words
    loose letters and loose threads
    a conflict to resolve
    it is WRONG to wear expensive socks
    with curtain pants or clown trousers
    ****lost in the waste of such a choice

    Like

  31. multiplemichael

    —————————–the savage in himself
    blue buttock longing—instinctively intercourse-driven
    tormented by the lower tendencies
    heart-rending erections
    throwback testicles
    limited mathematical exactitude
    ****these hands did afford release

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      pumped up and rigid
      air in and air out
      instincts gave way to to spreadsheets and plans formulated by consultants
      – winter approaches and restocked retract inside – I AM
      NO MORE A MAN – my wallet is empty

      Like

    • eatmorewords

      the right distance
      mathematically just that far away
      – the coffee girl would break into the urinal and rather the men
      •ROUNDHEAD or
      •CAVALIER
      – nocturnal barks kept the neighbourhood up – the old lady at 46 prayed for a meteor to land

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        THE PERPETUAL RHYTHM OF CONVERSATIONAL POETRY
        commentary dialogue—like when the angel stepped on a nail
        all sorts of things, at times, can be alibis for incoherence
        avant-garde poetry produced with odd narrow skills
        history laid out like the ladies in Hustler magazine
        every single gentleman at the pool hall
        could sell you bootleg anthropology

        Like

  32. multiplemichael

    just endless poetic chatter
    adolescent poetry
    FLARF written by adults
    tongue-tied dialogue
    twice buried and dug up
    DAILY DISENCHANTMENT
    the children removed from the floor
    winter has seeped in—-damp and cold
    people down the street have holes in their lungs
    their oxygen has turned to jelly—globs of mucus
    long thin tubes suck the phlegm from their throats
    one must not listen as they pass by their abode
    it becomes difficult not to display
    an expression of superiority
    ——–woe unto others———

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      endless poetic chatter picked up on satellites and beamed to space stations
      lulling zero gravity astronauts to sleep miles away from wifi & McDonalds –
      back on earth
      grounded by gravity people walk around with rattling lung
      – damp to the touch
      – a smell of wet dog
      – children reciting the alphabet and saluting a flag
      -”tis the season to be jolly

      Like

  33. multiplemichael

    THE DARK CORNERS OF CONSCIOUSNESS
    and the poet with the flashlight
    moral church people
    standing in anguish
    emotional fragility
    deficiencies
    ————what was encouraging the experimental
    jazz men ?
    out of unhappiness and unpacified snot
    imperfect vigor
    the nightly fire
    crystalized meth
    heart-rending they say
    down by the church
    anguish continually flows
    in the back room
    perversity and purity jostle
    men with guitars and odd horns
    desire in different shades
    big old lips just begging
    to make confession
    scholarly jazz
    ain’t no thing

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      they walked along a corridor of light until the torch ran out
      – in the dark the people wrung their hands
      no one was going to beg forgiveness
      no one could admit that they had done wrong – night time thoughts that encroach into the daily hours – walking sin in expensive shoes

      Like

  34. multiplemichael

    suffering from an excess
    verbal violence
    when the time comes
    adequate language
    careful to step on immaturity
    careful to step on childish behavior
    always a conflict with the schizoid poet
    full-length poems with 54 verbs
    dictator daddy with distressing rules
    journeys through the verbs
    is he down to earth ?

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      when push comes to shove she couldn’t get the words out
      – stuck in throat or the little hands in her mind couldn’t grasp them – shamefaced in front of daddy –
      – learning line after line for the recital –
      childish things banished in an adult world
      looking tiny in a full length mirror
      getting smaller
      receding
      receding
      receding
      until she can recede no more

      Like

  35. multiplemichael

    AMAZON is offering specials on inherent fears and obsessions
    they left out the word, ancient
    distressing desires of the common man
    black and blue from suppressed instincts
    jilted dreams become poetry
    barbaric dances around a campfire
    the music of Miles Dewey Davis
    mysticism of the trumpeter
    complex variations on this theme
    casting off civilization
    before civilization started
    —the fat bug before the wings—

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      cavemen didn’t have neurosis
      they didn’t suffer from seasonal adjustment disorder – they didn’t have amazon
      they couldn’t buy cheap jumpers and secondhand books – they killed and ate dead animals –
      caveman daddy in fur
      at the beginning of civilisation
      a short shadow cast at a time when they say birds flying and thought WOW

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        95% OF ALL INFORMATION
        MANKIND KNOWS ABOUT CAVEMEN
        CAME FROM AN ANCIENT TOOTHPICK
        FROZEN IN ICE
        FROM THAT SINGLE PIECE OF WOOD
        THEY RECONSTRUCTED FACIAL FEATURES
        ESTIMATED WEIGHT AND HEIGHT
        AND WHAT DEGREE HE HOUNDED
        AND HARASSED FEMALES
        HIS PEER GROUPS
        HIS CULTURAL FORCES
        THEY EVEN CRITIQUED
        HIS MENTAL HEALTH LUGGAGE

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        the toothpick in the Smithsonian, viewed daily by tourists with cameras that cost more then a home did in 1932 – the year they feared the seed of Nazism – flecks of caveman DNA: a hair
        modelled and reconstructed on computers – caveman faeces revealed heavy meat diets
        low forehead
        beard growth and confusion over erections due to lack of visual stimuli – jacking off looking at a rock or a carcass
        peer groups dynamics at sea level
        – mental luggage left in a locker
        – shoplifting at the Smithsonian and replicas of THAT toothpick selling for a dollar a piece –

        WHAT A TIME TO BE ALIVE

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        MASTURBATING TO THE SIGHT OF A ROCK
        probably not just any rock
        the poet stood up and introduced himself
        “Hi, I’m a lonely and set-apart individual”
        “Hi, I’m enslaved by the products of technology”
        “Hi, I jack-off looking at mature full-figure rocks”

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        it was a fine rock
        a DAMN fine rock – it’s curves
        the shadows it cast
        – it was a special rock
        one he took great pride in and carried around, showing her off at social functions

        (LOOK BUT DONT TOUCH) –

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        the rock had cycles
        and sometimes his pocket turned red
        other times he would feel a tugging
        and he knew she had to go potty
        he had a special harness made
        but she said it was for whores

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        the harness tightened and held them together –
        she spent weeks on a motorbike

        racing away from something
        racing to something

        she smelt of oil, fumes
        the leather trousers chaffed
        in the morning she couldn’t wait to start again

        ’tis a pity she’s a whore

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        if cavemen lacked neurosis
        did they feel a false sense of freedom ?
        what about sinister knowledge ?
        what were they using to corral their curiosity ?
        a million questions
        carrion eaters
        some ugly
        some not
        so many things have changed
        predators too big to hide
        too lazy to run away

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        when one lives in a cave
        plagued with toothaches
        was covetousness a hot item ?
        name the males who didn’t masturbate
        one hand on the dong
        one hand touching the rock
        holy men–martyrs–saints
        not a single angel
        journey that far
        why waste a quick nut ?

        Like

  36. multiplemichael

    foggy camaraderie at the Bedrock Motel
    one night stands
    and others questioning the continuance
    school children selling candy bars
    “God the Father” on the wrapper
    sweet spiritual motivation
    a little hell before heaven
    at the misfortune of women and girls
    sex starved men wanting to celebrate victory
    peeing on the walls with heroic arcs
    flying spray on the lampshades
    and bedspreads
    although awkwardly articulated
    the poetic strength of the urine
    was overpowering

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      a break in continuity
      the prop designer forget to move the vase – dead flowers soaked urine
      ammonia headaches overpowering stench – sex starved men begin to view things differently
      thin line
      yes and no

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        SHE wasn’t lying
        when SHE said that there were snakes
        in her underpants
        made the waitresses nervous
        and the librarians frisky
        many people were unable to share
        her enthusiasm
        pool hall denizens
        young hitchhikers
        men with goiters on their necks
        —————————————-
        made folks nervous
        the doctor suggested “adjustments”
        others said that there were no snakes
        that the constant hiss
        was some sort of echo from the distance
        the faint agony of two lovers separated

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        in the east of the city they began to evacuate the waitresses-
        the librarians would be next –
        you could tell by the looks on their face they were bored
        – the snakes in their underpants was just a ruse
        some kind of smoke and mirrors –

        the lone hitchhiker thumb in the air – the echo of a passing car
        the agony of separation choked him like exhaust fumes

        Like

  37. multiplemichael

    AWKWARDLY ARTICULATED POETRY
    REFLECTED IN A STREAM OF URINE
    words in a poem
    they walk away—they stay
    words from a mind-set
    the source of stress doesn’t matter
    those small thoughts are entitled to thrive
    ———–end-of-the-day fatigue
    ———–end-of-life fatigue
    other people blossom
    other people do it till their genitals become chafed
    if you look—it is on the list
    “retrieve relationship”

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      it is strange and
      hard to articulate
      even though the words are written in my mother tongue – stress fractures of
      spiderweb spread across her porcelain skin –
      – I remember where I was when the Beatle died
      I remember where I was when I first heard the word Chappaquiddick

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        SUFFICE TO SAY THAT THING WAS SMALL
        an incompletely initiated entrance
        just enough for the brook to flow
        many fingerprints on the walls
        suckling once but not enough
        ****an outside practitioner at best

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        SHE didn’t say that she was from the school of hard knocks
        just that it was in the neighborhood
        making a fast buck in the theater balconies
        the boys were new to the mouth
        Manhattan squirrels had the nuts

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        in the neighbourhood there were all sorts: charlatans, preachers, shop keepers,
        priests and laymen, street corner hustlers policeman and athletes
        dethroned rulers and part time clowns – in this neighbourhood the theatre has a matinee each day at 12 high kicking girls for the injured jocks

        squirrel nuts buried and totally forgotten

        Like

  38. multiplemichael

    the guys at the pool hall
    were talking about
    how people are afraid
    to bite back
    even when
    there is no other choice
    one of the regulars
    (replaces brake pads at Sears)
    commented
    on how in our semi-destroyed reality
    our cesspools of domesticity
    we still hope to find that loophole
    ****I was thinking how great it would be
    if he looked like Johnny Weissmuller

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      I had black hands that cast no shadow
      beating my chest like an ape gone mad – Johnny Weissmuller goading me – superman at the top of the tree
      in a world of to much choice it’s funny that you have no choice

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        YOU HAVE A HOLE IN YOUR SOCK
        instead of going to 5000 fantastic locations
        somehow you got dragged to Paris
        I can only assume that you were tied up
        are you intact and unbroken ?
        “count your fingers and toes”

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        reassembled bit by bit with string and glue all
        conjoined together
        the handlers had problems understanding the French instructions –
        – a real memory of Paris where there really was a hole in my sock
        – a hole which I couldn’t help but stare at

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        a hole in the sock
        possibly distorted/manipulated to yield
        allegorical meaning
        it would be very awkward
        if someone noticed the hole
        the entire sum of one’s being
        a stupid hole in the sock
        spiritual insights
        or source of the leak
        hardship or laziness
        ****did Jesus have a mental image of socks ?

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        who invented the sock?
        – a perfect design of function and form

        she told me that for all the best moments of her life she was wearing socks – she had hundreds of pictures to prove it

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        poets afraid to bite back
        even when there is no other choice
        ————————————————
        from the hills of Kentucky and Tennessee
        Bible readers with a dislike for Flarf
        grammatical inventions
        were the work of the devil
        ———————————————–
        underwear from the Ziegfeld Follies
        countless stains of gratitude
        people question the statute of limitations
        here and now not way back then

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        Ziegfeld underwear vacuum packed and sold online – a certificate of authentication, the stains all explained
        – the ebb and flow of the Devils works – the statue of limitations expired last week
        post truth
        post truth

        I can not lie

        Like

  39. multiplemichael

    I am sorry to say
    that someone
    has left a pile of scars
    at your backdoor
    I know that you
    feel frightened
    wedged
    cornered
    the detectives on the street
    can smell your adrenaline
    they can hear your conversations
    they know you have expensive socks
    ****pray your words don’t flesh out

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      the neighbourhood dogs dribbles and swallows the back door scars – a bad influence amongst the flock –
      when I went to Paris I had a hole in my sock and got lost in backstreets as I vomited in dark corners – I know now that the detectives were watching
      – my DNA on a baguette
      – all things fleshed out become see through

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        YOU REFERRED TO THEM AS NEIGHORHOOD DOGS
        but weren’t they really just shadowy visitors ?
        possibly from the land of skeletons and cadavers ?
        ———a hole in your sock
        it could never happen in Florida
        people may be careless about where they step
        but strong attention is paid to the socks
        ****I have never known anyone to admit openly
        to having a hole in their sock

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        Victorian ladies schooled in the art of sock darning – sharp needles and tiny pricks
        in delicate skin
        a lost art these days
        socks are just disposable –

        on the moors string men walk sockless to prove masculine points

        have you ever seen a naked corpse with just socks on???

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        all the neighbourhood dogs howl
        howl all night when one starts they all start howling
        a chain reaction
        of dominoes falling
        the dogs howling

        at shadowy visitors at with no regard for facts or fiction

        Like

  40. multiplemichael

    I AM NOT A CARTOON CHARACTER
    (bootleg Flarf poetry)
    claws for fingernails
    fleshed out from skeletal days
    creatural erections
    making theater
    around the roaring flames
    no reason to halt the dance
    great pleasure in planting the seeds
    indigo-colored buttocks
    God may be watching from the brown eye
    God the camera in operating mode
    the God of inexplicable loneliness
    God with no apprentices
    God the watcher—the stalker
    constantly nourishing on sights and sounds
    laughing at “that which we will become”

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      Those skeletal day before we put meat on the bone
      just a stiff spine to keep us up
      invisible thread pulling us up
      invisible god always taking notes
      invisible god watching
      Rear Window god

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        eerie lights around the Rear Window God
        no one laughs about the twists and turns
        that lead to the Exit Lord
        many dream of a simple toehold
        if one could only hold on to elevated thoughts
        not battle constant oppressive circumstances
        poetry painted with the eyes
        perceiving the cruelty whirling
        in order to get along
        we make nice
        A THOUSAND MILLION TIMES WE MAKE NICE
        ——————————————————————
        employment is bootjack
        as an employee one becomes everyone’s bootjack
        any deeper feelings have died or been seriously wounded
        people in the workplace may have arms and legs
        but look at the gnarl that has replaced their heads
        gauze-wrapped atrophy—unremarkable—mundane
        reluctant for fear of being disenfranchised

        Liked by 1 person

      • multiplemichael

        not only the invisible God
        but all the ghosts of dead relatives
        outside the limits of credibility
        the forces that impel you towards transformation
        that guide your hands to remove the sin from your life
        invisible scissors that snip away at all the pleasures
        ——————————————————————
        you stand there at the window
        watching the detectives outside
        the neighbors have no sympathy
        for your ordeals

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        the detectives turned tarot cards
        they thought they could foretell the future
        they couldn’t
        and they couldn’t reverse the past
        – the sin stuck fast
        – there would be no caterpillar into a butterfly transformation he was stuck there
        REAR VIEW WINDOW MAN constantly staring
        constantly staring
        constantly staring
        constantly staring at the ordeals of others

        Like

  41. multiplemichael

    only one devil will act in your behalf
    in the underworld
    (English dialect or not)
    denouncing jazz is not advised
    or even jazzy American
    (Yankee slang or not)
    in some neighborhoods
    the demons sing nonsense/scat
    Uptown seems to have a more serviceable lyric
    grandiose piffle in 50 shades

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      jazz was the Devils sound
      devoid of an accent it seeped through neighbourhoods
      uptown liked the standards
      downtown grooved on space jazz – a statue of Sun Ra unveiled bathed in glorious piss yellow sunlight –
      demon scat And speaking in tongues
      nebulous voodoo clouds
      finger clicks daddio

      Like

  42. multiplemichael

    NAME ONE TIME THAT IT IS FORBIDDEN
    TO DISTURB A POET
    detectives wanting to learn what led to what
    SHARECROPPING (?)
    have to look that one up in the dictionary
    SHE asked, ” you want the fancy wig on or off ?”
    SHE’S dangling the fancy wig in front of me
    being from the backwoods
    I was excited by the yellow Hollywood hair

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      the fancy wig was made from human hair shipped from Siberia – it itched the scalp something crazy – sharecropper sweats under toupee fur –
      it came in two colours
      Hollywood Blond
      or
      Blond Hollywood –
      a disguise the detectives could see through –
      there was no perfect time to disrupt a poet

      Like

  43. multiplemichael

    being from the backwoods
    I was excited by the yellow Hollywood hair
    sound synthesizers broadcasting
    gurgles from a baby
    infant poets start before
    they are ready
    dialogue about thoughts and feelings
    when all the words are not known
    and yet there are no stop signs
    adults with worthless instructions
    unable to see the background
    whirling by at a fast pace

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      blind eyes turned to injustice – hard to define what it’s all about really –
      on a superficial level the poet knew it didn’t matter
      – NOT ONE JOT – but deep down past the hole of no return the poet knew it was all wrong
      tried to express it in less then 3 verses

      Frida Khalo will only become more famous

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        Frida Kahlo was daily repairing her husband barrier
        constantly building new walls for limited protection
        SHE had no desire to be his source
        of carefree enjoyment
        the serpent in his pants
        was no pet

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        Frida Kahlo celebrated Christmas by decorating her eyebrows with tinsel and lights –
        an artistic statement
        her husband wrapped presents while listening to Louie Armstrong – the serpent asleep
        the world outside quiet
        the paint on the bristles dried
        – a bin bag full of wrapping paper
        – her wifi went down the firewall extinguished

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        Frida Kahlo is constantly going through her neighbor’s garbage
        looking for jism and gristle and any trace of evidence
        countless underprivileged sanitary products
        some having been incubated next to moist goo
        down-there frosting —“you got foam”
        ****the smell of the discharge
        poetry coated with invidious thoughts that have escaped
        powerless against torment, Frida Kahlo prayed to be blank

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        daily garbage rummaging
        old pieces of a life
        pieces of puzzle that fit each other
        her husband was bored by it
        at night he just grabbed at it
        slapped it
        screamed at the meat
        – fit to burst a salty discharge
        she wanted it all to be blank so she could colour it all in – the neighbours put locks on their bins –
        Frida Kahlo in a metal car

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        READERS ARE AWARE OF FRIDA KAHLO’S HUSBAND
        there are those who say that he escaped from an asylum
        an upscale Palm Beach rehabilitation center
        nothing too nice for the man who ate sin
        ———THE MAN WHO ATE SIN———
        the outer world was just a buffet
        starved and maniacal
        poor Frida Kahlo

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        a man in a trap searching for the old him – defined by his actions the poet is defined by his words –

        (MARRIAGE IS AN INSTITUTION)

        people will try and break you out of prisons, abortion clinics, mental institutions, rehab houses but no one tried to break him out of his marriage
        – he couldn’t tunnel out
        25 years in the big house
        – mash potato slop
        fearful showers
        – a poor card for poor Frida

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        ——DISTINCTIONS———-
        THEY CLAIM THAT THERE IS MUSIC
        BEHIND THE WRITTEN WORD
        some poets try to sneak old-people paraphernalia
        into the literature soup
        next door they purchased
        a machine
        that never tires
        of a mechanical beat
        mentally I turn it off
        every five minutes

        Like

  44. multiplemichael

    ——————FORMIDABLE PUNISHMENTS
    for pointing out wrongs
    when the policemen came
    with giant loaded guns and angry dogs
    jazz musicians were not able to intervene
    Dark Town became silent—not a single street light

    Like

  45. multiplemichael

    voices in the dark singing
    “pity the man who hobbles to bed”
    will the hunger continue after death ?
    thoughts of cedar-thighed legs
    playing there under the table
    seeing the hairy Babylonians
    ****unaware of the erotic value

    Like

  46. multiplemichael

    WHAT IS THE KILLING THING ?
    that which slays us and puts us in the dark bed
    your fluffy pillow and stained blanket
    your heavy bones and fluids proper
    the words grow so silent
    one can only guess
    poetry with an eye patch
    and a pirate song

    Like

      • multiplemichael

        God told me that the Ark was not SUFFICIENT
        entanglements
        never offering explanations
        He included some nasty things
        very satisfactory
        Satan put a check in the box
        (x) very satisfactory
        burials are boring without sin
        explicit photographs of Noah and his seed
        NOAH (startling and talented)
        —————————————————-
        GOD OPENED HIS MOUTH
        AND SWALLOWED
        THE FLOOD
        it wasn’t really his mouth
        God doesn’t have a mouth

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        the death of one of England’s best loved sons – a corpse set out to sea and set alight
        – Valhalla headlights –

        God doesn’t need a mouth
        he communicates through signs
        no need for words –

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        YES, there were limitations on the Ark
        preconceptions
        going to the bathroom was a sorry function
        superior human make mess like baby
        the men said that they wouldn’t watch
        but it brought them great joy

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        frogmen fishing for flotsam
        parts of the ark at the bottom of the sea
        – wood and hippopotamus bones
        – the relief of the toilet extraction
        – massacre by machine gun

        Like

  47. multiplemichael

    OVERSIMPLIFIED OPTIMISTIC POETRY WANTED
    detached poetry, extended, abstract poetry
    flarf and anything related—must stand outside
    in a line of thugs —“the fun was long gone”
    a thousand misguided undertakings
    mud and crud from each one
    detached knee bones and hip joints
    like elephant tusks piled up high
    readers exercise no control
    their “high-falutin” ideas never hatch
    real stinkers they are

    Like

  48. multiplemichael

    THEY SAY THAT IT IS THE TEXTURE AND MOTION
    OF THE WORDS AND THEIR BEAT
    THE COLLECTIVE PHRASING
    every movement becomes improvisational
    and yet in back rooms “keep the time—charge in tempo”
    ————————————————————————-
    poetry with dominant ground beats
    Anglo-Saxon grunting
    morning rasping
    evening wailing
    Daddy Shouter honking
    “Poetry has got the hot buds”
    ****inflamed anal glands

    Like

  49. multiplemichael

    he stepped into the room
    could he just stop the endless chatter
    the three direction questions
    the small talk about small talk
    words like a dog bite
    wasps flying dangerously close
    juice from a watermelon
    making them crazy
    some sort of sugar arousal

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      little orphan Annie and her state funded words – dormitory chitter chatter**
      bunk bed conversations
      swatting away suitors like summer flies around jam jar traps

      **the silhouette of her hands working overtime dormitory nothing is private

      Like

  50. multiplemichael

    it was as if SHE lived in a museum
    constant sound with a carpet like corn flakes
    she kept saying, “be prepared”
    the godhead wasn’t interested in sin
    “why did you limit your pleasures ?”
    one should sigh
    the thorn needle from childhood
    kinship pain from the start

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      she was a museum piece with a little plaque that had her written history for all to read
      – “be prepared” the motto for the foot warriors of god – the boy scouts of America and their
      secret handshakes
      – she never saw the sea until she 28 and she’d live in Florida all her life!

      Like

  51. multiplemichael

    the boss detective claimed
    that my face had been reassembled
    memory is always false
    so now I do not look like myself
    a moment’s impression
    and
    now thousands of photographs
    have no value
    all those empty frames
    displacement in two directions
    merchandising SIN
    and praying to Jesus

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      I once looked like an amalgamation of all those who had won the best actor Oscar between the years 1965 – 1974
      – no one ever sees the same thing the same,
      a squint, a muted reflection the time of day
      a hot heat haze
      nothing ever looks the same
      in side the picture frame
      I was displaced
      set aside and erased from wedding pictures

      Like

  52. multiplemichael

    the man on the radio
    warned everyone not to carry
    poison pen letters
    next to their hearts
    and I don’t even know
    what a poison pen letter is
    hideous poetry: YES, I know it
    I try to stay clear and clean
    (+) play a Nazi in a Hollywood movie
    (+) find it too difficult to journey to Sweden
    to accept the Nobel Prize

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      poison pens and polluted umbrella tips –
      dead soviet spies on foreign streets –
      the man on the radio spoke in code – secret messages passed to the initiated –
      (walk softly
      carry a big stick)
      – the poetry was sent in morse code – the poetry was converted to binary

      – (+) – the actor wanted to play a Nazi – he liked the uniform

      Like

  53. multiplemichael

    CHILDHOOD: NARCOTICS AND EVERYTHING WRITTEN BY JULES VERNE
    plenty of time for the future
    living with a woman
    mash potato soup
    open door showers
    a wearisome career
    pirate shirts
    clown trousers
    fashionable shoes
    round jacket corners
    NO square jacket corners
    ticket stubs and strangled tokens
    A LIFE WITH NO REFERENCES TO SEX

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      wearing g shorts until leaves fell off the tree
      scout badges on your arm
      loose laces tomorrow sometimes never came milk before dead newflashes explosions toy guns
      clown trousers
      the future not known
      but it was there

      Like

  54. multiplemichael

    I hand-copied everything written by Jules Verne
    I was never the young stud Yul Brynner
    but my best friend was
    ——–were books just toys from the bookshelf ?
    Yul Brynner fully dressed
    Yul Brynner walking around nude
    the magazines refer to it as solitary

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      Lyrics from a song about Yul Brynner

      “And in a funny way, the shaving of my, uh, head has been a liberation from, uh, a lot of, uh, stupid vanities really. Uh, it has simplified everything for me, it has opened a lot of doors maybe.”
      [SM]

      I’m not what you think I am
      I’m the king of Siam
      I’ve got a bald head
      My name is Yul Brynner
      And I am a famous movie star
      Perhaps you saw me in Westworld
      I acted like a robotic cowboy
      It was my best role
      I can not deny I
      Felt right home deep inside
      That electronic carcass

      You’re such monumental slime
      Let the punishment fit the crime
      Tie it to a chair
      The house music will blare
      And turn your ears into
      A medicinal jelly
      Stay inside on Christmas Day
      And make believe that you are my candy cane
      You said, “I’m not that type,
      No I’m not sweet, and I’m not overripe

      Bob Dylan sang in
      “Its alright mama im only bleeding”,
      Everything from toy guns that spark to flesh colored Christs that glow in the dark
      Its easy to see we got in too far and not much is really sacred.

      Like

  55. multiplemichael

    I HAND-COPIED EVERYTHING
    WRITTEN BY JULES VERNE
    it was never easy to share sleep
    500 million thoughts
    dope-fiends
    with the smell
    of cigarette tobacco
    in the shirt pockets
    in the dark
    the overpowering
    feel of plaid

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      cigarette fingers crawling through the hair of fevered children – I hand copied all the words from the Hardy boys – the book pages were damp
      they became hard when dried
      pages that could cut
      small cuts on fingers of the avid reader –
      the shirt pocket and the leaking pen

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        I hand-copied everything written by Jules Verne
        my elephants were blue-black bulls
        my poetry just reworked conversations
        one can never question their listeners
        or satisfy their immediate family
        ****meet your challenges and stand clear of decay

        Like

  56. multiplemichael

    I remember becoming really upset
    when someone said that the words of Jules Verne
    were just costume jewelry
    I can see distant clouds on the horizon
    the sound of doors banging
    one less mouth to feed
    ****a rootless weed cannot survive

    Like

  57. multiplemichael

    they looked like cattle huddled together
    I didn’t say anything
    just stared at them
    let my eyes drop
    moved on down the island
    one of the girls was a blond Jersey
    very natural with no make-up
    a ring-my-doorbell anytime

    Like

  58. multiplemichael

    someone was reading Robert Frost on the elevator
    there was barely room to stand
    with all the heartbreaking loneliness
    trees in autumn, trees in the winter
    naked with their twigs exposed
    more sensitive folk were weeping
    I was thinking that it wasn’t so bad
    night was hours away

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      The Jungle drums echoing from downtown
      darktown
      rhythmic boogie
      not imposed but given freely
      – awakening, late winter day to jazz and sun
      naked trees skinny like an old man sunspots on stretch skin as
      if he was a drum
      he wound sound hollow

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        the drum beats cause thoughts to lose their actuality
        of what merit is a man with vaporous thoughts ?
        walking around like a submarine beneath the surface
        surrounded by shadows of recollections
        unaccountable moments
        vague memories

        Like

  59. multiplemichael

    someone in the neighborhood
    reported a taint of vulgarity
    foreign detectives in short pants
    march out front in plain sight
    peculiar hair pieces
    a drink and a tinge of baldness
    they needed a ready-made substitute
    Paul was dead
    3 shovels and a hole in the ground

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      neighbourhood communicated in a series of secret signs
      – small ticks, a subtle hand movement
      -YOU WERE NOT INCLUDED IN THEIR GAMES –
      – the lists grew
      the reports of behaviour expanded
      you were referenced on pages 254 – 267
      a blurred photo, in short shorts outside
      a hole in the ground somewhere over there, in the distance

      Like

  60. multiplemichael

    NO ONE EVER TALKS ABOUT DISEASED THOUGHTS
    crime may be sleeping—a source of error
    petting zoos for nervous excitement
    Trent Reznor slap happy
    got the belt on his birthday
    parental abuse…..to be long tolerated
    sorrow constantly knocking on the door
    the telephone rings in black and white
    the will to exist is drunk and needs a lift
    Trent Reznor got the belt on his birthday
    I saw him swallow a gallon of tears

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      returning from the shadows
      waiting for the arrival of the ark – a floating petting zoo of flatulence and anus sniffing – animals,
      each and everyone of them
      with a Trent Reznor soundtrack of computers screaming and axe murdered children
      – in the town the removed the road signs to confuse the tourists

      Like

  61. multiplemichael

    get upset when people don’t credit death
    as a one way ticket to hell
    talk like death isn’t a first-class ticket
    to the burning lake
    living hell—burning lake—eternity
    what does one say
    when asked by an older matron (Emily Dickinson)
    “are you a poet ?”
    not an air of meaning concealed
    a poet just makes novel combinations of words
    a poet needs no explanation for emotional delusion
    there are no final decisions
    no final formula
    only the ingredients
    letters stuck together

    Like

  62. multiplemichael

    today an agent of the government
    knocked on the door
    he informed me
    that I had no claim to originality
    that my written words
    were untrained and insensitive
    —————————————-
    he handed me a small card:
    “FLARF IS THE MANIPULATION
    OF CERTAIN WORDS
    IN CERTAIN ARBITRARY WAYS
    IT MAY APPEAR MORE OR LESS
    TO BE A DIVINE EMANATION
    …….BUT IT NEVER IS”

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      the government agent visited me the other day – just another name to tick off his list – he advised me people were taking notes
      dissecting the meanings of each word
      they handed me a a wad of paper 2ft thick – they questioned me about associations with others

      “WHATS IN IT FOR YOU JOHNNY BOY? WHATS IN IT FOR YOU JOHNNY BOY?” –

      (from a distance I read their lips)

      Like

  63. multiplemichael

    WALMART NOW SELLS STEREOTYPED EXPRESSIONS
    they come in small playing card size packs in tin foil
    I saw them next to the Goebbels 2017 calendars
    Joseph and his family were very charming
    rumor has it that if you purchase one
    you get put on a watch list
    would be safer to just steal one
    —————————————-
    the maiden and her daughters
    swimming in the Stygian river
    Nazi guards on the shoreline
    polished boots that reflected the sky
    no one was permitted to acknowledge them
    it was as if they didn’t exist —part of the scenery

    Liked by 1 person

  64. multiplemichael

    tonight on the local news
    a quasi-pit bull dog covered in blood
    was yanked into the back of a white truck
    the camera focused in on the dog’s eyes
    the angst of 2017 was recorded perfectly
    20 police officers had to drop a 1000 atomic bombs on the dog
    before it would release the owner’s mangled arm
    SHE had been trying to put a sweater on the dog

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      dogs in clothes
      dogs dressed as Sherlock Holmes
      – you can see the hatred in their eyes – little dogs in silly hats
      – when the policeman clock off they congregate at the pool hall and share takes and knitting patterns

      Like

  65. multiplemichael

    real men laugh at the dictionary meaning of words
    snorting meth and popping spider pills
    wild flights of speculation
    muscle cramps — leaking pee
    and other
    isolated physical phenomenon
    many great men and women
    have never spoken a word of English
    however they are long dead
    many great men and women
    have came from France and Italy
    however they are long dead
    ———————————-
    POETRY waves the flag of poisoning
    primitive stages of expression
    love in any of several levels of hardship
    penetration in movies and prison
    often as a source of income
    ———————————
    SODOMY NEVER SPOKEN
    it is not difficult to smell sodomy
    ego circles and sodomy
    historical brown jelly and oily hair
    lube on the bed sheets and towels

    Like

  66. multiplemichael

    THE TRASHCANS
    WERE FULL OF MATHEMATICAL REASONINGS
    ADDRESSES OF THE RICH AND FAMOUS
    PRIVATE SKETCHES OF ANATOMY
    MOVIE STAR PHONE NUMBERS
    TINY MACHINES FROM OUTER SPACE
    some of them could talk

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      the bins full of discarded thoughts unused ideas selling on on line –
      somewhere in Russia it’s -42 degrees
      chattering teeth with Slavic tongue –
      machines are used to crack codes and land you on mars but with no power they are just expensive door stops

      Like

  67. multiplemichael

    TINY MACHINES FROM OUTER SPACE
    just the right words spoken
    the loss of consciousness
    the descent of the mind
    a place called “sleep”
    —————————
    the mind set adrift
    toward the beyond
    —————————
    just this morning my young son
    was striking a glass tombstone with a hammer
    I am positive that there was an undercurrent of meaning

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      they put a bag over my head – I heard car doors slam before I passed out –
      I came round in a capsule heading towards the moon
      – computers talked to computers in nonhuman language
      – my mind disconnected from the old me I was looking for meaning on a blank canvas – I closed my eyes and though of my favourite childhood toy

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        ****women talk to other women in nonhuman language
        lazy people end up at the South Pole
        a place where the knowledge of God
        is limited to information
        obtained from the senses

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        Inuit people so far from a Nike superstore
        no knowledge of God
        fish frozen without electricity
        half their language contains words for snow –
        fire in the sky fuels cold nightmares

        Like

  68. multiplemichael

    the sleep box was full of codes and ciphers
    full of anagrams and acrostics
    crazy stuff from the Kabbala
    even swindles from World War 2
    poetry sprinkled with references to sodomy
    a chart with lengths and wide-open eye photos
    in a world of concealment and deception
    one must grasp that devil—squeeze the tip open
    and look inside (it is a work of God)

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      the sleep box
      a permanent fixture at the old folks home – nights of bingo and hot drinks
      muddled memories black and white days when emotions were rationed – one piece of meat a week
      dead family members in foreign fields of naked tress that resembled arthritic hands reaching for French cigarette nicotine clouds –
      all actions are logged and recorded somewhere he told me –
      there is a tally

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        instead of a door
        the sleep box has a mouth
        often unstable on thin legs
        TOTTERY
        the most beautiful woman in the world
        comes up and says, “you’re really tottery”
        (the most beautiful woman in the world
        removes her clothing and crawls up close
        whispering, “you’re really tottery”)
        TOTTERY BEYOND THE COMPASS OF WORDS
        one day you discover that you’ve plunged into tottery
        the sleep box continually threatens to collapse
        the unstable threshold of life

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        inside the sleep box
        you thought of Hedy Lamarr
        you thought of her whispering Austrian vowels into you ear
        it helped you in your cocoon
        it helped you when the darkness stretched out
        thoughts of the womb
        of being inside her
        a mother substitute with broken veins

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        vivid explorations inside woman—cerebral but with hair
        in the background, the ticking of the symbolic clock
        romantic paralysis
        rectangular obscenities
        inadequacies and the missing part
        small talk about self-control
        and how it gets in the way

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        the most beautiful and sexy movie star in the world
        spoons up close to you and says,
        “not only are you tottery but you’re actively teetering”
        and you know that she is 100% correct
        if you close your eyes
        you are not only plunged into darkness
        you are also deposited in Dream City
        just think—in Dream City without gloves
        you leave fingerprints on everything you touch
        a machine turns those prints into numbers
        peculiar numbers like Charles Manson
        when the detectives asked your relatives questions
        they said that you were very architectural

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        Charlie Manson with the sign on his forehead – speaking hullabaloo
        – fingers deep inside the Fab Four
        a twisting of the tale – lost in dream city where the streets stretch through the horizon and fire hydrants sign wet songs
        the architecture of your soul is loosened rivet by rivet
        the sockets gape
        you go loose
        – failed planning from the off-set

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        when people say
        “Yes, this is Charles Manson”
        do you think they play nice ?
        it is written somewhere
        that being sweet in this instance
        would only make the predator stronger

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        naïve readers
        instinct-injured readers
        poetic gossip
        gossip under years of autumn leaves
        gossip under fresh excrement from Robert Frost
        the predator loves the smell of droppings
        you cannot wash it off or wish it away
        ****your fancy embroidered poop

        Like

  69. multiplemichael

    A NATION OF CORRUPTED INHABITANTS
    the super tiny people mock God
    (ants that are no longer group-minded)
    beauty and harmony are everywhere
    supernatural beauty is plentiful
    poetic intuition uses scientific reason
    as toilet wipes
    poets and artists oppressed
    small fish in metal tins
    all entrances into adult life blocked
    eternal dreamy childhood
    God super bright in the sky
    preaching wakefulness in reverie
    live and play in imagination
    no boredom in hungers and passions
    the power to perceive has no limits

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      a nation of shopkeepers tiny in the eyes of God – the ant that strays from the whole – FREE THOUGHTS ARE NOT TOLERATED HERE – invisible hands push back – a landscape that needs to be captures – the black star in the sky –
      BOWIE THE BIRTHDAY BOY BLOWS OUT INVISIBLE CANDLES

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        the village folk threw stones
        at the gentleman
        who suggested that the landscape
        be CONTAINED
        black star or no black star
        David Bowie’s final spiraling plunge
        leaving behind the millions of dollars
        the mansion or two
        a wife soon to be devoured
        the telephone rang that day
        the voice warning about future plans
        “get your ducks in a row”
        when I hear those words
        Anger takes control
        I

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        all villages have secrets
        brothers and sisters
        strange bedfellows
        skeletons buried under the village green –
        the gentleman picked up the stones hurled at him
        he picked them up
        he picked them up

        the black star would reveal more
        Bowie didn’t need a beard

        the red phone rang

        defused anger felt like a release

        Like

  70. multiplemichael

    the detectives curious about your earthly self
    questioning every yellow smear of resin
    they’ve gotten wind of your imaginative power
    the spotlights at night—the eerie glow
    23 pieces of mail from the Curie house
    possibly you’re no longer interested in the mundane

    Like

      • multiplemichael

        THE POSTMAN FOR THE CURIE HOUSE
        OFTEN TOLD A TALE
        THAT THE CURIE FAMILY
        SLEPT ON BLACK SHEETS
        IT SEEMS THAT THEY LEFT
        PHOTOGRAPHIC SHADOWS
        ON THE WHITE ONES
        WHEN ASKED HOW HE KNEW THIS
        HE REPLIED,
        “THEY DRY THEIR SHEETS OUTDOORS”
        ****apparently Mrs. Curie left a lewd shadow
        ****strange men were taking photographs of the sheets

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        images of the curie house turned up on line
        images showed keys in stomachs
        needles next to organs
        an odd shaped kidney
        the neighbours other heard faint electric buzzes
        midnight dogs howled
        the sheets she hung out glowed in the dark
        fireflies congregated in swarms
        postman swotted their way through them
        small kids dared each other to knock on the door
        small kids with big knuckles

        Like

  71. multiplemichael

    the first thing I noticed
    were the large containers
    of sleeping pills
    somebody must enjoy their sleep
    or it is an odd way to lose weight
    or they work at a nursery
    ( a very quiet relaxed nursery )
    or it is a cure for hormonal problems
    or almost a cure
    a temporary cure at best

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      sleep is never a cure
      more a temporary respite
      – but sleep can trigger images lurking behind the sofa of your mind – odd sock memories littered past like life regressions – sleeping lions at the nursery counting nocturnal sheep

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        not a single mention of the roguery of Robert Frost
        ——————————————————————
        each night I ask the Lord to bless
        tenant farmers and the memories of tenant farmers
        I ask the Lord to bless their wives and women folk
        the price they paid
        so modern feminists
        can monkey-walk
        in the street
        bright pink tirades
        with rings of thorns

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        the lord moves in mysterious ways – jitterbugging to that big band sound – black and white getting it on
        heroin skin crumpled veins
        – the smiling face of Lois Armstrong, mopping his brow constantly*

        *the handkerchief is available online with a certificate of authentication

        Like

    • eatmorewords

      after a couple of pills your body became a mystery – a figurine you had no control over – all limbs felt like foam – you became a mannequin – a puppet
      the world gradually crept away
      the world gradually dripped off the page

      the chicken soup went cold

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        spider pills made by American Adamic
        restoration pills
        bring you back to where you should be
        safe from the blight—the blackening of seed
        the seed pod cancer
        yes, safe from gossip and gossiping readers
        yes, safe from hourly bulletins and chitchat

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        the pills sold by the medicine man
        town to town he went
        magic elixirs that could cure
        unpleasant smells and dead feelings
        the small pill easy to swallow
        tested on small children in Kentucky
        no guarantee they were safe
        but that was the thrill

        all across the dead continent they swallowed small pills

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        I ask you
        “where is the roguery in Robert Frost ?”
        not a single reference to hot omelets in the underpants
        or an irregular log drop in the restroom
        only thoughts about the incessant discipline
        of nature

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        individuated passion———–now that’s the ticket
        Jelly Roll Morton rolling numbers on the front porch
        a communicative residence near Dark Town
        where men hunger for sex
        desperation before breakfast
        first cousins by noon
        spiritual images form
        in wet spots
        ****sexual autographs

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        the dustbowl is hard to clean
        the futility of all life can be located
        3 miles up from the dried river bed
        where dusty men seem to gradually disappear
        without every hearing jazz,
        without wearing a pair of Nikes,
        first cousins sentiments cross lines
        sausage breakfast doesn’t fill the void

        Like

  72. multiplemichael

    the first person you see
    after passing the sign
    “reason no longer hampers
    the activity
    of the imagination”
    William S. Burroughs
    clinical precision
    so sharp that he has edges
    no longer guilty of conscience
    proudly singing
    a squawking dirty bird song

    Liked by 1 person

    • multiplemichael

      amateur theatricals at the motel
      he thought he was in
      he was in
      only next door
      and there was not much dialogue later
      about the volume of poop
      ———————————
      it was like one was in a horse race
      full gallop
      things were beyond tight
      it was difficult to swallow oxygen
      ****self-taught sodomy is the best

      Like

      • eatmorewords

        vaudevillian theatrics
        buffoonish actors slipping on banana skins
        modern day Buster Keaton
        – slapstick nonsense from the folks next door – a slap then a wail – a scream
        raised voices
        a different world past that wall

        he put all his money on the horse called Can’t Lose…

        Like

  73. multiplemichael

    your insides enshrouded in red draperies
    they call it flesh but it is more than flesh
    flesh cannot stand so tall and proud
    flesh cannot whistle or sing
    ———————————–
    agitated by some mysterious agency
    a wet tongue licking between your fingers
    Daddy has got you a full bath drawn

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      Jack the Ripper draperies
      internal inspections
      Victorian fathers aroused by table legs –
      the flesh made weak
      the flesh stretched

      a dog wagging its tail
      a motivational poster on the office wall
      a sale that never ends
      bombproof trousers
      an empty car park
      pensioners at the beach

      the poet just sat looking out the window for 12days

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        enormous volumes of literature
        at the library
        about the dark underside
        of bombproof trousers
        (fragile humans must confront malevolent forces)
        school children laughing about the dangers
        of imperious science
        runaway machinery
        that answers your questions
        and reproduces your image
        Robert Frost predicted that in the future
        people would talk to God
        on handheld machinery

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        kids only use libraries to French kiss each other in the non-fiction section
        – no one checks books out these days
        – the librarian is there as a Pavlovian reaction, stuck in a routine
        – books are now available on line, on computers*, alongside salvation, Moon rock and Hitler’s cars

        People commune with god silently with their internal voice, schizophrenic

        *the first book I bought online was emailed to me one word at a time

        Like

  74. multiplemichael

    MECHANICAL ANTEDILUVIAN EARS
    to hear the last sentence spoken
    —————————————–
    no refuge from God—even in sleep
    enormous dongs in search of a target
    blind and dizzy with the backdoor constricting

    Like

  75. multiplemichael

    SILENCE IS A BLANKET COVERING DEPARTED FRIENDS
    nocturnal sheep walk around in natural silence
    they are often guilty of satirizing ideas and topics
    that other beings take seriously
    nocturnal sheep wavering
    between comedy and tragedy
    “the actual exhausted by the potential”

    Like

  76. multiplemichael

    counterfeiters in nocturnal sheep cotton
    one coat of distraction painted over
    with a different coat of distraction
    every shopkeeper deals in despair
    circular reproduction
    today unable to recognize yesterday
    acute anxiety comes in rental units
    mundane survival in view of the smokestacks
    pool halls and morgues stay open at night

    Like

      • eatmorewords

        some hoarders bought their feelings but they
        kept their feeling hidden away
        never used
        cold husk acting like computers
        – (I’ve seen feelings online for ridiculous money)

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        SHE was coughing silt and brown dust
        pessimists were counting the days
        as if Mussolini was floating about
        just waiting to whisk her away
        to where her relatives were vacationing
        the men stood in suits and vests
        the women with diamond rings
        waist deep in a liver-colored boiling lake
        where one lost their flesh
        before the final living hell
        THE ETERNAL LAKE OF FIRE
        —————————————–
        I found it difficult to speak to the field slaves
        they were curious about the Master and his wife
        the most asked question was about their bathroom habits

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        the lake of fire was a tourist trap
        people queued around the block
        to see it bubble and boil –
        the closer they got their nose filled with the smell of sulphur and sweat dripping and their diamond rings began to crack – Johnny Cash on the PA system –
        – the souvenir shop did a roaring trade – a 4.6 rating on trip advisor

        Like

    • multiplemichael

      saving my money to purchase a device
      that will signal warnings
      on contact with counterfeit cotton
      the only hope
      for a man to recover
      his luster and verve
      is to surround himself
      with pure cotton

      Like

      • eatmorewords

        pure cotton grown inside warehouse guarded with guns –
        the cotton trade and Abe
        – pure white tshirts
        LOOK AT HIS DEFINED ABS
        – chinese counterfeit cotton

        Like

    • multiplemichael

      counterfeiters in nocturnal sheep cotton
      wearing total white and extremely quiet
      almost three-dimensional
      perhaps reinterpreted
      Biblical tales
      are never complete without suffering
      pain and agony come well-oiled
      —————————————-
      church people are snapping their fingers
      to Jerusalem
      it is easy to leap-frog to corruption
      degradation and squalor

      Like

      • eatmorewords

        they sent a mechanical sheep into the herd they sent a mechanical sheep into the herd pristine white with cameras for eyes – manufactured fur
        remote controlled from afar
        well oiled they sent a mechanical sheep into the herd

        Like

  77. multiplemichael

    with his 6ft long penis
    he liked to bark orders
    to family members
    who seemed to stare
    straightforward into vacancy
    his evening hobby
    the fabrication of testimonials
    indescribable agonies
    he could produce a paragraph
    in ten minutes
    poetry with male-dominated directives
    being a dweller in a man’s body
    he was fascinated by the complete male story
    his wife (a pure woman-not ravished)
    was tired of rubbing hand lotion
    on his dry flaking member
    she was tired of his fame
    “the world’s longest dick”
    she was tired of the embarrassment
    of walking around with a man
    who had to push a cart in front of him
    to mobilize his reproductive organ
    she was exhausted with strangers
    thinking weird things about her crotch
    when they made appearances at strip-clubs
    the female employees would whisper
    “honey, you won the lottery”

    Liked by 1 person

    • eatmorewords

      no point winning the lottery if you can’t spend it – her gay husband with the 6ft schlong – something to show off in public but behind closed door it was all musicals and lavender –
      – ashamed is a colour
      – the diseased pole at Strippers Inc.
      – personal attributes, blue eyes and bad tattoos
      -baby bird has flown the nest

      Like

    • eatmorewords

      a two handed weapon
      a snare with glistening tip
      not as commonplace as you’d expect**
      – they bought it by the pound

      **he was only 3inches but had 17stone to push it home

      (could never understand why the the same tube expels waste and life – sometimes
      useless meat)

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        back in the old days
        you want to talk about some serious meat
        Coltrane, Silver, Adderley, Gillespie, Monk
        momma never cried for want
        a lot of bittersweet joy
        in those penetrations
        ****seed was sown on the road

        Like

  78. multiplemichael

    “SIX FOOT PENIS”
    those magical three words
    indulge
    the particularly male infatuation
    with the weapon of reproduction
    poets are quick to point out
    contact with the beast
    and you forfeit
    your innocence

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      medical concerns about the blood pumping – not enough to sustain vital organs and that six foot penis**
      – on cold days it goes limp
      – dizzy spells and hidden in baggy clown trousers
      – even though it’s hidden away he could never keep it a secret
      – you could see it twitch

      **medical discussion as to whether a six foot penis is a vital organ

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        factors that do not lessen the value
        of the large penis
        ———————
        an easy bridge to an audience
        savage attraction
        manhandling (HEROIC)
        ****a small booklet of bootleg anthropology

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        JUST TRY TO EXECUTE A QUICKSTEP
        tiny photos of Zip Coon and Jasper Jack
        how low
        is the lowest common denominator
        in Dark Town ?
        tiny books full of parasitic paraphrasing
        numerous outbursts of inarticulateness
        FLARF is King
        FLARF dressed as Little Lord Fauntleroy
        bourgeois pain pills
        spider pill clichés
        musicians on drug store syrup
        cheap whiskey made in Maine
        solo porno movies
        a large mirror
        and a light-skinned soundtrack
        ———————–
        the gentlemen in the Tiny Dick Club
        were fond of saying,
        “you can’t outsweet us”

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        the lowest common denominator is
        limbo pole low – so low the sewage water rushes over it &
        through it
        and by the afternoon
        the dirt of the morning will be worn in
        not washed off – curling baby with milk on lips
        gurgling gurgling drunk
        baby syrup from honeybear

        the internet is 67% porn
        and 16% cats

        the chairman of the Tiny Dick Club UK
        went to America to meet his American equivalent and
        when he whipped it out he said, “everythings bigger in the
        States”

        Like

  79. multiplemichael

    sensitive people are suffering the onslaught
    of disembodied songbirds
    young ladies from all across America
    who thought they could sing jazz
    stripped-away testaments
    and melancholy
    on the ground like leaves
    Robert Frost has been dispatched

    Like

    • multiplemichael

      obscure trivia—anything to get his mind off your face
      painfully insecure in the presence of poets
      disturbed by the constant dressing down
      ————————————————
      suddenly color conscious in Dark Town
      the detectives carry jazz horns
      real nightlife criminal types
      BUGEYE on trucker coffee
      and drug store syrup

      Like

    • eatmorewords

      young ladies stormed the streets
      old woman walked behind –
      finger clicking to a million marching feet – Emily would’ve been there – Marie Curie would’ve been there – Joan would’ve been there –
      all of them on the street like leaves
      – poetry put aside for a moment

      Liked by 1 person

      • multiplemichael

        JOAN, MARIE, EMILY
        far richer in color and in conception
        than those of fellow marchers
        talent that still inspires charlatans
        ****recently a shoebox of unpublished poems
        by Robert Frost went without a bid on eBay

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        the marchers with their placards
        – Marie’s one glowed in the dark
        – Emily’s haiku
        – Joan’s mask never slipped

        – a shoebox with silicone to keep the poems dry

        Like

  80. multiplemichael

    two homeless guys stood at the intersection
    holding cardboard signs
    (+) HUNGRY—WILL WORK FOR FOOD
    (+) AVAILABLE TO ANYONE WHO CAN MEET THE MEASURE OF THE MUSIC
    —————————————————–
    employed to sweep the arena of Dark Town
    a location known for emotionally narrow pathways
    the spiritual coming so close to the blues
    half the children are fathered by the trumpet

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      cardboard signs that disintegrated in the rain – still hungry but rain quenched thirst – he will make it illegal to be hungry
      – people eyeing each other up
      – tasty people
      – slight basting on a low heat
      – bath salt cannibalism will be rampant
      (and not just in dark town)

      Like

  81. multiplemichael

    —STUNT IMPROVISATION WANTED—
    they were telling bold face lies
    the coffee was not vastly superior
    to Starbucks
    so many people were complaining
    about the lazy dull jazz
    people plugged into the free WIFI
    their shoes outdated and dirty
    real poets were throwing coffee beans
    at the Academicians
    who were pushing third-rate Stravinsky
    rhythmic kernels were commonplace
    ****just slip in some fluid superficialities
    ****you too could be who’s who in the boudoir

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      faltering WIFI made the coffee taste of World War One mud –
      a questionnaire wanted to know your opinions
      an online survey seeker consensus
      – the jazz just sent them asleep, to pedestrian with no experimentation –
      shit shoes needing a polish
      trainers more expensive then a small car in 1965 –

      the blueprints for dark town on show at the town hall

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        talk of World War One
        without sinking into the vacuous,
        the effete, the pretentious
        musicians playing tunes in the trenches
        foul gas like a Mingus fart
        the emotional gravity of such an event
        forgotten today, the price of freedom
        history only paints in pastel colors
        no photos of the intricate details
        ****mounds of destroyed lungs

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        photos lost
        the intricate details all forgotten and buried away
        likely to reappear at nighttime, accompanied by sweats
        screams
        a Mingus fart caught at the back of the throat
        a smell of mud, a dampness spreads
        blackened lungs
        coughs and laughs
        the silence after the explosion
        a field of guts

        Like

  82. multiplemichael

    grown man and grown woman
    naked in the Bible story
    knowing nothing
    about perpetual
    rejuvenation
    repetition of nonsense
    produces a lack of interest
    ****an appetite for mindless church chat
    ****Cyndi Lauper ringing the bell
    paychecks, Baby Bird
    the money comes and goes
    the thrust and depth of reality
    it is in your hand
    it is no longer in your hand

    Like

  83. multiplemichael

    JUST PURCHASED A BOUDOIR BRUSH
    THE KIND THEY USE IN ADULT MOVIES
    GONNA PAINT A SEXUAL DRAMA
    WITHOUT THE DRAMA
    SEX IN VARIATION
    GENITALS WITH ENTHUSIASM
    ****the soundtrack alone would give Stevie Wonder an erection

    Like

  84. multiplemichael

    I am serious when I say that the smallest woman
    in the room was the size of a heifer
    but even large people can dance
    and dream into the face of drugs
    large people can feel liberated
    and dive into a deeper understanding
    of the printed word
    ****hum tunes with a lilting tenderness

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      I know that woman
      that small woman
      I carried her around in my backpack
      – I left the zip open so she could breath –
      – I let her out at a party and she danced the night away –
      I carried her home
      I carried the weight

      fat man sweating after to many pills

      Like

  85. multiplemichael

    trying to write a poem with a voice
    beyond words
    often aiming for the recognition
    of a tragic automobile accident
    trying to stay away from love
    and its rough customers
    Dark Town full of knuckleheads
    and dope shooters
    LIFE, the way it should have been
    frightful to think of false film and television
    the doctored documentaries
    the continuous line of butt crack personalities
    ****men wanting to pork you in the dressing room

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      people telling about their New Years resolutions – an attempt to use less words
      eat less meat
      – a man who refers to himself in third person
      – shady street corners lurkers
      knuckle staggers with low foreheads
      – it’s rough around here
      her racist friend learned everything from TV – useless as an empty gun he was

      she promised to keep lines of communication open while I lowered the drawbridge

      the grass isn’t always greener on the other side of the fence it’s all asphalt

      Like

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