Keaton
listen to yourself burp and gurgle and burble and
when you shake your head
side to side
your eyes can’t focus
and you get a headache
and passersby offer help
and words of support
or commiseration
(it’s hard to differentiate
sometimes
a helping hand
or a fist in the face)
– and you think of Buster Keaton and the falling house…
the way he stood perfectly poised while the house fell
and he knew he wouldn’t come to harm
but you thought the whole edifice would collapse on his little head –
Eatmorewords's Blog 
KEATON was famous for saying,
“no matter how black and unlit jazz might be,
it would pass and something better would spring forth”
poets with simple words
life without adjectives
and adverbs
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(the specific burdens of color)
Dark Town is surrounded by a small jungle
I live just north of the jungle
I can hear the nightly campfire drums
I know what struggles out there
nature is wide-awake discord and turmoil
like walking in shoes made of thorns
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small hands reach for the ticket
but comfort doesn’t come so easily
illegal or legal, bondage and bad luck
entrance into escape can be so fatal
opposites arrive quickly
servants of defeat
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born with the weight of all wrong
the color of fatigue
the smell of exhaustion
music laughs at ears
not capable of hearing
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I SAW A NEWSPAPER ARTICLE TODAY
about women who fall victim to men
who are not interested in sex
the more I thought about the whole thing
the more Adele followed me around
singing those million dollar songs
****Robert Frost said that a man
not interested in sex
would be an odd duck
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I FOUND MYSELF CORRECTING SOME PEOPLE TODAY
as if they knew anything about Herbie Hancock
“you don’t know a damn thing about Herbie Hancock”
wearing long johns and sipping out of a brandy bottle
the corner of Exultation and Finesse
somewhere a pugnacious growl
Herbie Hancock lording
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I TIED A STRING AROUND HERBIE HANCOCK’S ANKLE
and flew him over the neighborhood like a kite
no matter how high he went
I could smell his cologne
I named it, “IF THE WRONG WORD WAS SAID”
Adele is trying to put a mood behind those words
wildly swinging from confrontation to confrontation
not such a happy girl it would seem
I smelled her up close
She’s not clean
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keaton as a wordless poet
falling buildings and steam trains
no need for sentences or punctuation
just pretend to fall over*
*Homer Simpson would laugh tears of joy
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at night all i can hear is the static buzz of a TV
mewing cats
soft click clacks of a keyboard
a car crash and i know amongst it all there
is a beauty were all trying to touch…
maybe it’s just behind the church?
maybe it was left behind under a seat
in a victim support group?
maybe it was washed off the streets while we slept?
i won’t apologise for where i was born or the colour of my hair
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servants in shoes that pinch
hobble to the door
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born on the wrong side of town the wrong side of the tracks
where the silos remain empty
where the factory is dead
– exhausted after birth
need time to shed that weight
a car tyre screeches and baby bird flies away
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every word written is a gift for the future
there may be a limited number of words that survive
so suck it up and spit it out
culture is the force field that keeps the jungle outside
flying saucers employ force fields for the same reason
strange creatures hang up signs
near coffee shops
“art expresses solidarity between intellectuals”
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static buzz of a TV
lyrics to a heavy metal song
I warned you about assembled librarians
LIBRARIANS being surgeons of cancerous literature
jars of tongues and tiny fingers
breast lumps and prostate matter
————————-()
Satan resides in the WIFI
Daddy with his lower elementals
offering realistic portrayals of birth
in the female bathroom
psychological birth control
****Tyrants in the manufacture of babies (nothing mysterious)
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(ADULT MAGAZINES) SERVANTS IN SHOES THAT pinch
———–selective breeding
———–extermination
a post-Marxist mood—shoes that PINCH
———–in varying degrees
———–based on gender, education, obedience
reenactments of the past—SHOES THAT pinch
****Ulysses in shoes that pinch
****steadily dwindling, Ulysses in 2017
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shoes that pinch
either by necessity or choice
poets on the street articulating
the subtle and complex dynamics
of the common shoe
possibly the size of a poet’s intentions
feet that have grown
****the shoe repairman was upset
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a steadily dwindling percentage of readers
who can concentrate beyond the pinch of the shoe
poets providing privileged insights into the art of being barefoot
images of Roman soldiers cutting off healthy feet at the ankle
images of Herbie Hancock floating in the sky like a kite
no need for legs or feet or shoes
lick the sweating poppy
****I was so happy that I had my submission ticket
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ONE COULD LIST A MILLION THINGS
AND BABY BIRD MIGHT FLY AWAY
relatives who are systematically misinformed
the wrong wrapping paper
the wrong number of candles on the cake
affection for the details of everyday life
a jumbled collection of superficial observations
naked men no more than the sum of their inches
———————————- the sum of their sins
anatomy of a contemporary poet
****Robert Frost said, “his pubic hair was dry
as a winter leaf”
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DROP A 1000 ATOMIC BOMBS
and there will be no wrong side of the town
personal relationships will cease
that daydream about becoming a literary celebrity
right out the window
I’m thinking that they will dig up Johnny Cash
and he’ll belt out some tunes
dead people covered in a tobacco hue
waiting for a second puberty
nothing to be ashamed of
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readers say, “throw away that conversational crap”
write some love sonnets
rhapsodic love affairs
romantic imagery
holding hands
kiss-kiss
———
———
the second the finger touches moisture
the compass points north
————————————————she was always writing poetry
about the question he never satisfactorily answered
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THE WORLD IS OBLIVIOUS TO YOUR PERSONAL CALAMITIES
business as usual, Baby Bird
pull back that foreskin
and clean away any buildup of narrative tension
poetry inextricably tied to the absurd
look for traces of imaginary value
instrumental cash registers
handlebar mustaches
terminal self-pity
—————————–every home needs a sacrificial hero
the full weight seems laid on you
SHE said that it was red beans and rice
but it tasted like an autopsy drop
****poetry with a hint of car-salesman mentality
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reluctance to be wooed
an image of a monstrous phallus
stuck in her memory
valentines promoting the duty to reproduce
vapors on a rag and a long faint
no yield but yield was taken
****nothing numerical about “in and out”
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Adele is a spectre that haunts love sick ladies and lonely men in crumby hotels – a voice that chainsaws through radios –
more money then a small African country but not enough to buy Stalins pipe
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ADELE
sometimes in the pool
I ride on top of her
like a performer at SeaWorld
I rub under her chin
and baby-talk, “who’s my little orca ?”
—————————
—————————
the simple truth: I LOVE ADELE
a mutt given the Liz Taylor make-over
all that money means nothing
ADELE IS THE QUEEN BEE
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I READ A POEM TODAY
I found myself erasing lines
“the expressive palette”
that was the first one to go
“digested a vocabulary”
“a one thick dick masterpiece”
rubbed them out completely
————————–
————————–
a penis like a professional basketball player
careful not to scrape the ceiling
men of average height
just leftovers for Grade C Reproduction
somebody has to exercise the school system
—————————-
—————————-
simple to give way
to another version of oneself
would I fly back to Adele ?
would I cheat and have clearinghouse sex ?
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FLARF: substituting an effect for an idea
a lullaby of honeymoon licks
private licks or public licks
year after year of repetition
mark on the moment becomes monthly
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future people will not understand our present words
the knife of evolution will reduce and change – a future of abbreviations, flarf, code –
youth culture invent 231 new words a day
the hip hop lexicon never uttered in coffee shops
kids texting my grandchildren will new WHAT IS A PEN?
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imagine a librarian who hated books, detested words or couldn’t even read – each day a cancer grew
a body ravaged with resentment seeing these young guns reading
eating words
– furious librarian in a world of words
– at night she would remove words from books, rip away whole chapters – small flecks of dandruff on her collar-
a burning desire to pee
– a slow WIFI resulted in a lack of academic attainment
the past overlapped the future
on a venn diagram of life she was firmly in the middle
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literal, adult magazines full of pictures of adults doing adult things:
fixing a table
car engine maintenance
filling in a tax form
– nothing for the kids to see –
a lose lace won’t loosen the pitching shoe
a youthful belief in the historical dialectic, a bust of Marxist
A MILLION IDENTICAL BICYCLES
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the pinch of the shoe reminded him he was alive – the privileged never knew THAT PINCH – a life of fresh socks and well fitted shoes made them glide through life –
gliding like Herbie Hancock
– the freedom of a sandal
I’ve always been suspicious of those who walk barefooted (a god complex)
the ghost of Gil Scott Heron loomed like a Gary Oldman Dracula cloud
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no need for real personal relationships
it can all be done online and in code – relationships for all
anonymous IP address to anonymous IP address – no shame no shame no shame – the first man on the moon wasn’t who you think
but I know he left words under rocks –
a postcard of Johnny Cash
a postcard of Roger Moore
a postcard of Thelonius Monk
–
–
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write stuff about holding hands in meadows
long descriptions of flowers and our place in nature –
I am falling asleep just writing that
holding hands at the point of execution –
( the man with small hands )
when she stood next to the man with the metal plate in his head her compass spun out of control
stick to conversational poetry
stick to automatic writing
some questions remain unanswered for good reason
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on eBay they were selling mimeographed pages
with a single word: TALLY-WHACKER
if you bought 10 copies
they would include a B&W photo
of a red-headed Pomeranian woman
seems almost criminal
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when one makes love to Adele
the mattress crunches
as if it were made of Styrofoam
“participant-observer” poetry
with a pungent, unidentifiable odor
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I must say that it is nice to be with a woman
who is not strapped for cash
but the fame factor is a pain
countless young women
with raccoon eye makeup
and endless thugs with body graffiti
CONGREGATE
around us to the point
that oxygen is in short supply
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my personal calamities are hidden away
numbered and filed – I await my turn to be a sacrificial lamb
– a hero without a cape
– just waiting for the day when he tries to ban words and burn books – it always starts with the destruction of words
– a car salesman with small hands at the helm
– unity in a shared alphabet
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Adele is always imagining
that happiness will emerge
from a stranger
and take control
of her life
heartbreak
and dancing around heartbreak
two elements of her success
Adele is a house empty
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I find Adele honest and wholesome
attentive and friendly and somewhat in control
(willing to compromise on the wet spot)
I know the great number of motors running
the headlights burning bright
endless endeavors
however, partnership is everything
****the sound of her singing in the shower
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you know the great struggle of Keaton
TO MAINTAIN BUOYANCY
disempowerment (parental)
low expectations
unspoken sexual issues
a list of errands with bald tires
****had to sign papers that he would remain silent
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all night long you rubbed your fingers together
to suggest the large amount of money involved
I won’t mention the airtight explanations
or the facial expressions of the detectives
****vodka gimlets, soaked with perspiration
big pouty lips
in the correct light
Adele became Liz Taylor
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servants in shoes that pinch
commonly accepted meanings and associations
of “shoes” and “pinch”
the female organ—the physical organ
squeezes out the baby like a turd
they say that it hurts
COMBAT
home and haven outside chaos
POETRY
intangible as well as tangible
detectives march outside on the street
they speak English—sinister English
“what have I been doing ?”
am I so ignorant that I hang up signposts ?
DIABOLICAL ACTS—DIRTY DEEDS
down-river of the graveyard
where all the poets drink
jargon full of tiny worms
—————————–
—————————–
SHOES THAT PINCH
the senior member on the Ark
put everyone to sleep
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Holy things trampled under foot
adversaries behind every shrub
different results under similar circumstances
gratification with one hand
reach around or solo
in 25 words or less
the first time one kisses a man
****like playing basketball if you’re 10 feet tall
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just think—to be employed at a task
concocting humor
a temporary emotional defense
a small island in an ocean of loneliness
**** as though the past were the present
living life
but not being exclusively bound to it
surface action directed to make others laugh
the windows of reality serve a dual purpose
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putting a good light on harsh truths
suffocating on pills
having suffocated a thousand times before
no way to reduce the emotional volume
a metal fence and three meals a day
washed down like a pound dog
left to dry slowly in isolation
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READERS FORCED TO RETRACE THE CURVE
OF THEIR PERSONAL CIRCLE
life as a preparation for eternity
thighs that chafe and shoes that pinch
most people are maggots
are you a triumphant maggot ?
or constantly grasping at everything
within your reach
throwing away your “heaven time”
for life on this large rock
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the clerks from Purgatory were quick to ask,
“who told you that you reside on a large rock ?”
humans busy modeling their Deity on themselves
someone to praise and curse during their Dollar Store life
no detail is too small—nothing dismissed
HELL is coming—maybe tomorrow
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BULLYING YOUNGER MEN
AND DRINKING STRONG TEA
A MAKE-BELIEVE WORLD
WHERE THE BETTER BLOG-PEOPLE
REVEL IN THOUGHTS OF URINATION
POETS WHO PEE ON OTHER PEOPLE
INNOCENT STRANGERS STANDING IN LINE
PEOPLE DINING AT OUTDOOR CAFES
——–URINATING WITH INFANTILE ABANDON—–
****confrontations between apathy and evil
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patternless in life but suddenly SHE imposed patterns
in youth the cry for pleasure was easy to synchronize
now quintessential paradise is in the shower stall
a million sinful thoughts to resolve the dilemma
90mph with the backside towards the door
to think at the first you could speak
each other’s language
****double entendres
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I told American friends I went to school with Adele
– days of crayon drawings
– doctors and nurses
– she didn’t sing then
she had dirty knees
snot hanging from her nose
– sexualised graffiti on the playground walls
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a möbius strip of flarf
strip flarf down to its component parts
repetition
breed contempt
this is the oddest month
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he tattooed TALLY-WHACKER
on his tally-whacker
– he danced for dollars in his underpants
– he showered 13 times a day
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that odour was British cigarettes and money
– cockney poetry fell on deaf ears
– adeles head on a stamp
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haunted by ghosts that fall around her feet
in the empty house of heartbreak
6:09am
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his biggest challenge was GRAVITY
an audience saw in colour but viewed
antics in black and white
a visual world displaced from the rough brickwork
of everyday
– his larynx slowed withered
died
mute
falling into the earth
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detective instincts a certain vernacular – a maze of words
trip over your tongue
– removed the shoes
blister revealed
—
Modern day Moses spammed everyone with the 10 commandments – lost in trash can alongside adverts for miracle pills that improve your length
—
on the ark there was no WIFI
just horse shit and board games
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in isolation thinking about your book house spine ceiling hard covered roof wallpapered words your book house volume
after volume paper fence prologue
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swimming in a sea of reminiscence
a neighborhood boy
got a terrible paper cut
from the fence
and
I had to pay a handsome fee
———————-
———————-
PURIFIED BY POETRY:
the doctor at the hospital
examined the boy’s genitals
very closely
as it turned out
the injury was on his elbow
****unsettling thoughts are easily ignored
****an innocent finger in the bum
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my school bus driver
had a metal plate in his skull
a gift from having fought in Korea
—–I often ask myself why I know that piece of information
we would make up stories about his plate
that he picked up radio waves from outer space
—————————————————
—————————————————
we were just children
so he never went into detail
about the role he was playing
in the execution of the divine will
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the guys at the pool hall
were chuckling about
“the never failing vice of fools”
parchment for skin
readable text
(veiled language)
who was throwing stones
at those on their deathbed ?
——————–some say Mick Jagger
and 10,000 fornicators and sodomites
they forget that Mick is not dead
he is still swollen with self-importance
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Adele leaning on the school yard wall
smoking a foul cardboard/tobacco cigarette
nervous about all the detectives in her neighborhood
afraid their investigations would prove her illegitimate
——————–
——————–
SHE had not forgotten Eden
the Tree of Life with its sexual energy
the baptism that failed
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is hell coming?
isn’t it here already? Doesn’t it crawl over everything?
– I don’t know and I didn’t have time to ponder it as I walked through the air conditioned super market with towers of mayonnaise on either side –
67 flavours
– I fled from the choice
at work my boss told me “You’re a nice guy
and I hate you for that.”
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are you talking about your facially disfigured boss ?
they say that he uses voice-over narration
have you noticed if his lips move ?
does he have a tongue ?
—————–
—————–
one day in the future
do you think that he will stand
beside your tombstone
and say, “I never liked you, you were too damn nice”
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some of the older folks
couldn’t retrace the curve
of their personal circle
————————
————————
————————
little more than mechanical dolls
with a healthy fascination for deviant behavior
amateurs struggled to remain amateurs
music remains music, no matter the instrument
****pity the fool sidetracked by science
****disparity between the ideal and the real
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forget about the 67 flavors
if one can afford it
one can buy a jar of self-perpetuating mayonnaise
I was trying to think of other uses for it
that thought went to the famous photograph
of the small child running naked down the road
after the napalm attack on Trang Bang village
I was thinking that maybe the mayonnaise
would have given her some comfort
but then I realized that was probably faulty thinking
who would think such an evil thing ?
I decided to take a bitter pill
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I visited my psychiatrist today
he was sitting there in his office
wearing a large black coat
and a black hat pulled down
the side of his face
I asked him
if he was the Phantom of the Opera
He said, “in this office there is a distinction
between right and wrong. continue to talk
like that and you’ll get no more pleasure pills”
I was thinking that he could be a sacrificial calf
the more I thought about it
the more he seemed perfect
for a neck cutting
one quick slice the rat bastard
————————————
————————————
every three hours
I take a dose of Dionysian
famous for causing run-on thoughts
****if one distrusts words—stay away from Dionysian
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(+) THE TOWER OF BABEL
(+) THE CURIE HOUSE
SHE has the Stigmata
—————————
painful wheels of rebirth
turn towards Dark Town
jazz with its mock crucifixion
poets on the ground
in imitation of Christ
I wanted to laugh
but things were too serious
dark urges were visible
trying not to listen
to the inner mouth
——————–
not a good idea
to write about the surveillance
detectives like peacocks on parade
many a behind smeared with excrement
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the pervasiveness of original sin
the big picture: THE ROOTS OF EVIL
the genius of evil cannot be translated
outgrowth continues to expand
things in the mirror grow fat
it be no accident— it be the working plan
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what could happen
what did happen
HISTORY like a tiny snake
it had to be small to ward off the Romantics
each day a plethora of trivia
a simple semblance of truth
they say
the new middle class is the former upper class
calendar kings who can paraphrase
a weekly schedule for $53,000 per year
Open Mouth Christians free of superstition
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thoughts of urination lead to thoughts of urination until the dam breaks
a damp dark patch TELL TALE signs
better bloggers are SAFER bloggers – no offending when you stay on the track
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trying to stitch without a pattern
abandonment of all rules
a mess of lines and symbols
confused and unable to talk
– entering all rooms backwards
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the bus drivers metal plate
attracted magnets
they flew through the air and landed on his skull –
Korean souvenirs badly bad
fall apart in three days
– all bus drivers have a look in their eyes
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he is still alive
regurgitating his original schtick
– going back to basic
missionary position music
vanilla beats
in a world of post truth
he’s always been black
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playground bully demanding money and attention
singing at victims
enough money now to simply disappear – Eden found in south London –
slipped in the baptism water and sued the church for this and that –
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4000 years of written symbols/printed letters
not a single thing worth the effort
poets are fond of words
rabbits are indifferent
****4000 years—can we forgive the errors of God ?
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they say that it takes a lot of money
to maintain God
easy to suspect the curvature of the mind
even the straightest lines get exhausted
strong telescopes make religious people nervous
you can see the Ark on top of the waves
Noah and his family are Japanese
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there should be a warning posted
——————————————-
attendant danger in writing poetry
attendant danger in reading poetry
restudying sex
as to the way the mistake has been made
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the legislation of poetry
fresh votes daily in comments
yanked from the Flood
Noah and his family were just seed
blessed with incentives to sow it
****it was a pleasure new to man and woman
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push away the pain
hold tight the spark
having detected yourself in a poem
you found it difficult to stop thinking about yourself
the people who knocked you down
the next group that kicked you while you were down
it is no secret that people stole from you
small hands and smaller claws
nothing was safe
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trying to hide
from religion and science
inevitable
inescapable
where do great thoughts come from ?
people with one hand on the wheel
and one foot on the pedal
roaring through a mechanistic environment
flashing lights and brothels
property with no known owner
————————————
sail the love canal
pop inside the mystery door
feeling lazy ?
stretch out
and order oral
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not a single drop
of white doctors’ medicine
in Dark Town
poverty has no restraints
at night they come in and take what they want
the smell of the jungle in the darkness
having scored twice off the family bible
the hollow book contains nothing
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sometimes one will hear a tune
about a special train that goes to Dark Town
the poets know it as the prescription line
“no matter the diagnosis, sister
just lift your skirt and scoot on over”
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so many damn rules
you can’t afford no ticket upstairs
your wife got no meat on her bones
the children on the street begging
the complexity of life
expecting God to understand
and sympathize
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idiot offspring of idiot parents
amphibians—reptiles—mammals—machines
inside temperature—outside temperature
petrified bones dug up by Mecha
a ridiculous number of the things
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savages and barbarians from Dark Town
perform jazz on late night television
they spend their surplus funds
on drugs and fast cars
evolution and global warming mean nothing
science is the enemy to their system
a proud religion with broken ancestry
****please don’t cheapen death
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after listening to jazz
the muscles of the mind
are never able to recover
their natural shape
———————–
shapeless fellows
bellowing in pain
possibly typewriter repairmen
———————–
jazz and romance
(+) preliminary finger exercises
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Adele at the school disco
waiting for the slow dance
all the boys afraid to ask her for a dance – toe tapping in the corner
– not illegitimate but dubious at the very least
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never seen the tongue and never actually seen his lips move –
maybe I’ve been lying to myself all this time –
I know he will take pictures of my tombstone (he told me this in advance of my death)
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the napalm trees
flesh hanging
like winter leaves
I just sat in the bunker waiting
waiting for the enemy
– a jar of butter pills and book of faulty thinking –
they keep telling me they will make a film of this
the photographer tried to forget what he sees out the photos just remind him of mementoes
(every female singer in the radio sounds like Rhianna)
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67 FLAVORS OF MAYONNAISE
a mystery that cannot be solved
secret motives that cause detectives
to stay up late
a hundred clues sticking on the wall
a photo of a girl from high school
that gave you a genital wart
at the free health clinic
they asked you to list your sexual partners
you wrote down Mary Beth and both hands
Mary Beth—sensuous and passionate
rough barnyard foreplay and intercourse
geography in the dark by smell
****those extra lips were warts
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my psychiatrist wears head to toe in brown corduroy- when he moves you can hear the static of rubbing cloth –
small sparks
small sparks he sits in a brown leather chair and disappears – I hear a voice
his voice is treacle and razors
– he doodles symbols on paper not listening
– he has no answers
he offers placebo words and bills me weekly
– the air outside sticks like tar
every time I arrive home I scrub
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holding hands with transients
what do I know of swindling ?
any attempts at crime
would serve no useful end
for just a few bucks
one could participate
in a motel bed
———-scientific sleep
always the temptation to steal
trouble is a hot bath on a cold night
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am I sinning
or being sinned against ?
reckless with the COPYRIGHTS
painting myself in corners
artificially dwarfing an artist
a dual personality with weak brakes
flawed and irregular
with rocks in the good pocket
unsure—fearful—suspicious
the detectives are kept ignorant
outside in a fogbank of deceptiveness
****eavesdroppers dreaming of naked conversations
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Adele had the stigmata –
date night consisted of beer and a box of smokes – bleeding palms from the unsubtle wounds –
physical pain loses to imaginary pain –
I stifled a laugh at the funeral
– I stifled a laugh at your birth –
never a good idea to pee in front of the detectives
they will just use it as evidence
– this cycles has lost its chain
pointless pedalling up steep inclines
–
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the roots of evil spread long
like spider legs
brittle and flake
people are two precious these days
my reflection was slightly off
my kids said I didn’t look like me
– my beard looked smaller
my eyes bluer –
the working plan detailed by a few inches
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feminists tell me they hate HIStory – I feign interest in the majority of what I see
– at work fat woman bore me with diet talk
I’m currently 3/4 of a way through a bottle of wine watching people fall over TV
simple trivia
confused facts
the proletariat will rise again
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the sex police turned up unannounced demanding measurements and samples
– it wasn’t like this in Bethlehem
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the only thing it takes to maintain god is low self esteem and an imagination*
– string telescopes won’t help here
– measurements fail in this area of study –
*my favourite band just come in the radio (is there a god?)
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interrupted by a copyright
but that’s okay son
a little dynamite and a roll of coins
no need for concern
****the nightlight is all alone
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interrupted by a copyright
sinning against the cause
to advance the cause
he slipped and hit his head
and then a bookcase
of Robert Frost Anthologies
crushed him something bad
the waves at the beach
are coming in
but not for him
the leaves on trees
are falling
but not for him
****reabsorbed and no longer here
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I found a piece of paper with these words printed on it
“size lick littleness”
I googled it and discovered it
was from a Mecha poem
the next line was
“I can’t stop thinking about skin”
———————–
———————–
romance reduced to a quick look
at her bosom or her behind
like all women
her childhood was driven inside
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seeds sown wildly and with abandon- wedding night marathon – a dream of running from zombies – Noah was chosen in a lottery
– the story as metaphor
– the ark as a mobile home
– NASCAR fans sleep with baseball caps on there head
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nothing was safe from school yard bullies who stole your bag
ate your lunch
drew a penis on your head –
fight or flight but most just freeze like the Artic
– revenge scenarios played out the bus trip home –
small hand had small claw
– fan fiction with you as the hero
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you can’t hide from science or maths – it’s everywhere
– the words are scientific
no maths can predict their order – one hand driver can’t change gears –
life in the slow lane where all the thrown babies are piled up -(it makes an interesting postcard) –
– I don’t know where the great ideas come from but I know where you can buy them –
– I tried to sell a poem, they promised me a buck per word –
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late night television when all the lights are off
and shafts of light
through the gaps in the door
knife sharpe shafts
–i spent the last 5 days digging my grave–
your midnight footsteps
the rattle of trash cans as they make their way their way through
Dark Town – from the edges to the centre
to the threshold of your kingdom
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listening to jazz
like coming up with the bends
or 6 weeks in space
she looked pretty in the daylight
but better at night
the lost art of typewriter repair
(pens stored in a museum to be looked at)
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the first taste of mayonnaise 43
wasn’t much different from 41
or 26 – just a new location
behind a fence, hidden away
Mary Beth works in an air conditioned office now
overlooking a carpark and a supermarket
– a limb finger touched the genital scar
a wet tongue licked your lip
– it all felt different with your eyes closed
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she was a real life documentary
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moses tried to copyright the 10 commandments
but couldn’t afford the lawyers
the brakes on his car were shot
he just rolled and rolled
all through the town
until he slowed to a stop at the pool hall
– side street moses selling his tablets outside the entrance to
the mans toilets
it could be worse
he could be a communist
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WHEN ONE THINKS OF ALL THE EFFORT
IT TOOK TO MAKE THE ARK EXPERIENCE
A SUCCESS
( WHY DID GOD USE CONTAMINATED SEED ? )
undo the original sin
refuse the pain and grief
that men cause each other
——————————–
——————————–
they try to disguise how little there is to go on
strange words printed on scraps of paper
a single flashlight that directs light through darkness
the darkness goes on forever
the light only goes so far
it is limited
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it could be worse
a machine that wants flesh
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SHE asked herself
with all the slaughter
will there be enough people
left for seed ?
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the Ark didn’t float on water
it was in a protective bubble of shame
a world where a cruel God
had no problem
imposing discipline and punishment
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when machines populate the world
who will be their censor ?
what will be the avenues of licentiousness ?
will the new religion be free of corruption ?
just think—-a world without flesh eating
A WORLD WITHOUT FLESH EATING !!!
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LATE NIGHT TELEVISION
a senior citizen reading a poem
from the Ladies Home Journal
“LOVE YOUR ENEMIES AT HOME FIRST”
kind words for those impoverished below a certain level
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I tinkered with my television set
it no longer emits light
it sucks light from the outside environment
streetlights are dim on my block
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FOR 45 MINUTES I LISTENED TO A BARBER
then I realized that he wasn’t talking about baldness
he was saying something about the first thing after death
one must apologize for having had life imposed
having accepted a sentence of defeat
seduced into taking a hike on the final path
a length of time however short or long
****no matter laughter and joy–or–ringworm from a cat’s butt
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(+) LIFE IN THE SLOW LANE WHERE ALL THE BABIES ARE PILED UP
(+) LIFE IN THE SLOW LANE WHERE ALL THE BABIES ARE PILED UP
(+) LIFE IN THE SLOW LANE WHERE ALL THE BABIES ARE PILED UP
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SEEKING OUR OWN ADVANTAGE
———————————————–
that’s the trouble with the white man’s God
he gets disturbed when his children
seek their own advantage
****white man’s advantage make a heavy load
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the coins were rolled
the stamped image shined
face ignorant of the behind
———————————-
toss the baby out fast
what can be said ?
hell of a bounce
did you see all the red ?
LikeLiked by 1 person
in Kentucky
one might have legal difficulties
if found rude to the town parrot
please don’t middle-finger the bird
****push on then petty poets
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SIZE LICK LITTLENESS
those who allow their genitals to petrify
genital crustaceans
( stymied by insidious cancer )
a man on the evening news said
(+) evil is inevitable
(+) human nature is intrinsically flawed
modern literature written on lavatory walls
words become scapegoats
in contemporary literature
eye level with man and his landscape
and poets write sugar coated love poems
masturbation becomes a geographical exercise
at best, preoccupied selfishness
————————————-
————————————-
SIZE LICK LITTLENESS
words found on a manuscript at Oxyrhynchus
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may be that the Mecha poet
wanted to write
“I can’t stop thinking about sin”
instead of
“I can’t stop thinking about skin”
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human fear: nuclear annihilation
Mecha fear: dust and grime
FLESH EATING WAS DENIED IN EDEN
Adam and Eve wearing modern day shoes and socks
Noah wearing modern day shoes and socks
a Christmas card from Emily Dickinson 2016
a Christmas card from Ms. Curie 2016
a Christmas card from Joan Rivers 2016
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lavatory literature
embodying traditional ideas
about exotic dancers
and their place in the universe
————————
going to a garage/yard sale
and purchasing huge prehistoric bones
so large that they had to be tied to the top of the car
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nocturnal bagman delivers at the drop off (a note said let’s raise the demon settlement to ground) – out of context it sounded threatening –
– fear of treading on toes
the copyright lawyer knew which order you could use the words
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that damn copyright lawyer
he had a closet full of bracketed phrases
the inhumanity of the whole thing
plenty of bad losers and sore heads
I was sitting in the group of writers
who write about home towns
and tossing babies
out of speeding automobiles
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NAKED CONVERSATIONS
while the girl at the coffee counter
measured the men in inches
———————————-
they had large plump nut sacs
but didn’t measure up to God
———————————-
it was very important
to wear quality jewelry
to church
——————–the fear of God
the drive of existence
NASCAR
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snap your fingers and sing, “NASCAR BABY”
primordial fear on the racetrack
satirists ready to refuel
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I told the judge that I suffered from disinterestedness
“no need for you to express that information”
the copyright lawyer was oddly nervous
like he had just pulled a 3 foot long worm
from his butt
****lucky boy
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the rode the machine through dark down – collecting the transient
the poor
the weak
the machine tore at the flesh and reduced the bones to dust
– sprinkled on flowers as manure – the dead would live again –
LET THEM EAT CAKE
LET THEM HAVE THEIR JAZZ
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reduced
reduction
the numbers dwindled until there was enough to enter the ark
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the machines will rule –
a thousand machines controlled by the few – programmed with no way to change
no backdoors in
– emotionless metal
– cold contraceptions
– they will rip at flesh
– some will talk with the voice of Joan
NO CENSOR FOR THE MACHINES
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“LOVE YOUR ENEMIES AT HOME FIRST” – she kept the burglar prisoner
feed him hams and vitamins
– after week 3 Stockholm syndrome kicked in and they become star crossed lovers –
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the inside of my TV
a burnt cathode
a slow beating heart
a blackened lung
an old coin
the TV sits in a dark corner emitting the light of salvation*
*my electrical bills are sky high
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the white privilege
swimming pool out back
new socks everyday
a whole raft of children with silver spoons
we bury the dead at least 6feet down
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in Kentucky
legal difficulties arise due to the high level of illiteracy
– confusion over words –
-confusion over words –
the parrots heard all the secrets
WHOS A PRETTY BOY THEN?
WHOS A PRETTY BOY THEN?
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HONEST DIAGNOSIS: NO ONE WALKED AWAY
Gideon stacked the dead bodies into a temporary
TOWER OF BABEL
idiot offspring of humans
making battle with the Lord
one can argue with science
while
reasoning straight with the Lord
no curving back
——————–
——————–
outside the church window
the savages are holding hands
with the barbarians
Dark Town has opened its gate
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birthday wish—–blow out the candles
to begin without a preliminary finger
just jump on and take care of business
like a rodeo in the bedroom
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after the wedding at the motel
making love like a tiny black man
running at the Olympics
I knew SHE was dissatisfied
with the furniture
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the exotic dancers pole is the spine that runs through the world and keeps it on spinning on its axis –
– without the pole we’d be flying through infinite space –
all our fears
all our worries
all hopes and dreams
encased in a body that was designed to fail, to fall apart, to be eaten by cancer then eaten by worms
All praise the exotic dancers
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laugh all you want
but every time I open my eyes
I am living a Jules Verne story
a narcotic cart rolled through work
and various things knew me by name
good or bad I wanted to eat cake
1st rule——-buy everything
“KNOW NO CAUTION”
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THERE WAS A HUGE BOTTLE OF PAINKILLERS
Nita Naldi the potent temptress
her would-be sister Carmel Myers
the she-devil that was good for the runs
Patsy Ruth Miller the Queen of Sleep
Gilda Gray for the runny nose
misalliances
wiped away
layer after layer
of ego fabric
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ice tinkles in expensive glassware
topless women in leather trousers
commingled hair
sex as a snack
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amused
by her doughnut
one finger
and she suddenly spoke a slow Slavic
rather come-here-if-you-dare
for a girl from Kentucky
****hullabaloo sister and worth every cent
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all night long
women from a Brazilian magazine
marched around the pool
in tiny suits
white with flash photography
on the half-hour
Yul Brynner would read a passage
from Robert Frost
hot tongues cleaning up the crumbs
trinkets to be discovered
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took to drink as if it were a sport
morning toilette in the afternoon
a handful of giggly pills
a toot of razzmatazz
visitors in unseen rooms
naked on chinchilla
****BLACK HEARSE POETRY
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the poet had a Kewpie-doll face gone flabby
male—female (?)
upstairs…downstairs
how dare you
ask about vestigial pain
after sex
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wearing heavy black shoes
and trying to read poetry
somewhere
a strong simian scent
how indecent the smell of sodomy
in public
THE PLEASURE OF THE INITIAL PAIN
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a little calm before the greater rigor
the pleasure of the initial pain
sodomy in black wedgies
single strap
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with huge sums of wealth
comes protection
from invasions of privacy
alone in my ballerina studio
black coffee
blue-sequin buds
and Yul Brynner on YouTube
reading poetry with a masculine voice
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poets write sugar coated love poems
and lovers spray huge jets of jism
geographical exercises in a motel
possibly a thing of the past
as life becomes later and later
the thought of sex as a lonely business
ROMANCE THROUGH BINOCULARS
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the writers group had a collective brain freeze
– no new ideas
– they just sat their and thought about failed marriages, increasing debt, teenage sweethearts –
the copywriter lawyer never saw anything as NEW – everything had to be stolen or tarnished – he had a lousy sex life but a briefcase full of lists of famous plane crashes, people called Ed, books over 800 pages long and an uneaten lunch
Where would this day end ?
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chain-store makeup
cheap cosmetics on the natives
sagging skin and carrot-glazed eyes
drums and odd squealing sounds
stomping and hooting
the sounds of flesh
being torn from the bones
DARK TOWN ON A TYPICAL TUESDAY NIGHT
black on black
androgynous and undifferentiated
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local people hide their money in library books
more safe than any bank
no one reads books
reading doesn’t amount to much more
than sleeping with your eyes open
I have $20 hiding in “Bartlett’s Quotations”
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———taught the first wife to read
———taught the second one how to orgasm
all business during the day
at it like Adam and Eve after supper
essential sentences served with breakfast
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the dust and grime ruined the circuits of the machines –
they stopped working
useless hunks of metal
scrapheap fuel
– Adam and Eve shopping for new socks – Christmas cards from the holy trinity
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the quality of the words diluted over time
– weak coffee
– she got measurements wrong I swear your honour, she said millimetres but she meant inches I swear –
wear expensive shoes to church
the jangle of your jewellery
virgin God had no use for his meat
(redundant)
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the non-stop motion of cars going in circles – enough to make you dizzy
enough to make you sick
– when the racetrack closes for winter the ghosts appear
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you had the nickname Nemo at school
the halls as Nautilus
dreams of the ark
– cautionary takes from old sailors and psychiatric nurses – YEILD TO CAUTION
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cast as “vamp”
a “femme fatale”
– something to fire up the detectives
men like hard boiled eggs
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the finger going through the doughnut hole
secret signs in the cafeteria
– the finger removed and covered in jam –
all this hullabaloo about nothing
what’s below the waist?
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a handle full of uppers and downward
spider pills and Scandinavian diets
-I was a shell of a man –
I made lists :
* a picture of a set of twins who look nothing alike
* a poem about the beauty of supermarkets
* a building that serves no purpose
* a badly drawn picture of a monkey with a gun
* the 16th most viewed meme
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after sex is for sleeping not discussion on evolution or theories of inertia – just put it away
rest
dark town will be there in the morning
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after sex one or after sex two ?
a sharp knife to remove the Catholic part
thinking the whole time about memories
of the butcher removing the fat
watch the Catholic slide off the bed
TRIBAL or MECHANICAL ?
something fierce about cutting flesh
just think—our neighbors are savages
they are the opposite of God
spiritual exaltation
the first time
one turns on a flashlight
a sense of brotherliness
in the color of blood
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I am confused…
is the Scandinavian diet
when one brings their own book
to read in the library ?
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THE GLORY OF THE HOLE
a hulking bully in the truck stop showers
wanting your pencil to write poetry
the sight of his nudity
right or wrong
something weird about too much hair
or hair in the wrong locations
probably just thinking nonsense
don’t wanna be no Robert Frost
a little French and it’s peanut butter time
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backwoods minister squeezing testicles
“nothing hardboiled about these eggs”
the flames were wanting another shovelful
Saturday come Sunday
the black book and seed
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psychiatric nurse
pointing her forefinger
to her head like a pistol
when the thumb moves
one knows that she is dead
YIELD TO CAUTION TOMORROW
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what kind of person thinks of sex
as a lonely business ?
you sleep with the same person for 26 years
and you only witness romance through binoculars
poor devil—compromise is hopeless
****to read what has not been written
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there was a smell
a stench
the aroma wafted in from the centre of dark town
– the smell polluted lungs
– I went there and coughed up a fur ball –
I saw them swinging from lampposts – I took notes
I took swabs and forwarded them to professionals for analysis –
I tried to explain that from pain there could be pleasure*
*the shoe that pitched ended up fitting you like a glove
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lean into it
sodomy is an art
the dichotomy of pain and pleasure – thin lines of grey shadows – I WALKED THE LINE –
she wore black wedgies
I knew this because I was on my knees
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huge wealth with wallets full of cash
the nouveau riche have no taste
-ridiculous money spent
– black coffee served in a vat
– a 1,000 hobbies and no pastimes
– throbbing gristle with part time lovers
Yul Brynners head explored by astronauts and members of the medical profession
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the first time I was introduced to Yul Brynner
was in the Bridal Suite at the DownTowner
he was eating a salad
he could tell that I was nervous
two men in the Bridal Suite
was it going to be memorable ?
he was famous for writing about the importance of memories
that they give one something to live for
when all else fails to succeed
——————–
——————–
I swear that I could see the reflection
of a guillotine on the side of his head
it was in perfect focus
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she positioned herself
so I could have a good time
but after two minutes
she closed the door
taking care that I shouldn’t have too much
————————
————————
we live entirely for ourselves
advancing through indecencies
the educated ripping-off the populace
opposite sides of a circle
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romantic jism shows up under certain light
the kind of light they use at a crime scene* where white tape outlines the husk –
they keep finding newer pictures of Bowie – unreleased
unseen – there’s one where he’s dressed like an 80s business man –
*isn’t everywhere a crime scene?
**isn’t life a tale of slow death?
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she didn’t use make up
just used household paint
she looked like a clown (but she had small feet not clown sized feet) – I squeezed her nose but it didn’t make a sound –
we cuddled up under the sheets while people were being killed on the TV
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smuggling contraband into prison
things hidden inside books:
– drugs, files, a whole new identity- something hidden in the spine –
( a kindle used as a bookmark )
I only use libraries for the silence
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I went to a storage locker auction and bought someone’s past
– I lived with their possessions, pictures of their theirs wife –
old dinner plates
– food stopped tasting of food
it just became fuel to get me through to bedtime –
if everything fails, join the military
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he approached me and told me I could be a model – I didn’t trust him –
he wasn’t wearing pants
but I took his card
just in case I need the money –
the rest of the neighbourhood was slowly sinking into the ground
a ricochet of words
I saved a penny every time I heard a song by Bob Dylan – exhausted arm movements mostly mechanical a butchers block for the cutting
I’m not a robot but I need daily oiling
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it is said that vowels and consonants can be manipulated
a man without trousers offering employment
like asking for more servings at the soup kitchen
showing yourself—-a pleasurable sin ?
resistance to evil is reward enough
( BEWARE HE WHO LIE IN WAIT TO STRIP YOU )
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A SLOW DEATH IS REREADING WHAT ONE HAS ALREADY WRITTEN
the taste of words—morning words—evening words
sometimes honking words like a great goose
poets in general are rude honkers
men never fail where they desire to touch
women with vices possibly worse than others
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the saga of the storage locker auction:
what you thought was bizarre cutlery
was actually astronomical instruments
left behind from a UFO visit
it isn’t superstition
that makes food not taste like food
————————
————————
it is one thing to widen the circle
another
to hold the circle open
LikeLiked by 1 person
in Florida
citizens use the library for its free AC
clean restrooms…safe parking lots
WIFI, computers, and most prized of all, “SILENCE”
one does not borrow books
one can order books
and pick them up at a later date
one could romance library employees
but they are depressing in bed
instead of showering
they put corn starch
in their moist areas
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YUL BRYNNER’S HEAD
EXPLODED BY ASTRONAUTS
SEARCHING FOR MINERALS
——————
——————
ADVERTISING AND TRADE NAME STICKERS
SMALL DOLLAR STORE PAINTINGS OF FREUD
WHEN EVERYTHING BECOMES TOO MUCH
PATRIOTISM FIRST AND LAST
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fake news fake poetry
everything and nothing is true
the Scandinavian diet is mostly fish
I am confused
– fake poetry essential flarf
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the black book
“a greedy false un-Catholic knave the black book you took”*
all cardboard homes in the shanty town – Sunday is the day for the minister to cast aside sin and walk down Main Street singing
*stolen lines
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sorry, no main street singing
in the backwoods
Sunday morning and hours of RELUCTANCE
the reluctance one has to give up sin
to cut the cord of attachment
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just think how CRIMINAL
it would be to take your own book
to read at a library
THE SAME THING COULD BE SAID
FOR WRITING FLARF
flarf poets are constantly campaigning
their own praises
LikeLiked by 1 person
pull the curtain
lock the door
flarf may arrive on morning light
floss the obituaries first
sudden death and lingering illnesses
any tidbit for the next poem
just think—the trophy wife
who grows hairy
meaning to poetry is not essential
excessive hair on women thought detrimental
self approval is the chore of the FLARF KING
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unpleasant connotations
dirty fingers on most people
early in the morning I go outside
and make strange noises to the birds
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so many people in Dark Town are thought about
yet so few of them are thinking themselves
are you guilty of telling others
that you are captivated by their thoughts ?
FLARF: poetry written by an indiscriminalist
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through backwards binoculars everything was upside down – rushes of blood
small cluster headaches
– no cure for the sickness –
-(are you lonesome tonight?)-
same self sex
self satisfied smiles —the soundtrack
skipped —
small morsels and crumbs…
(…tourists to the city were also amazed at the shopping facilities and variety of places to eat.
The average trip advisor rating was a solid 4.6)
I saw the neighbours wedding photos and they were bland.
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my neighbors showed me their wedding photos
I drew genitals on the large ones with a marker
they said, “thank you, Mr. Picasso”
now they can purchase that villa in Italy
people in Kentucky would be proud of bland photos
people in rural Kentucky are afraid of photographs
country folk behind on realization
constantly trying to catch up
——————————–
the closest sex is the self-sex
YES, in an emergency
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is it possible to be intelligent
and unbookish ?
I’ve seen the librarian pause uncomfortably
as if she might be dumping a load
a librarian
sexless, ageless, a composite identity
geographically at odds yet relatively intact
her barber says, “fifty-fifty”
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professional poets
odd hour ducks
talk of risk and potential reward
Joan Rivers in publish-or-perish dreams
pressure to write too much too soon
to put more than words in the slick groove
conversational intercourse
conversational poetry
—————–at midnight
the man with the flashlight is GOD
—————————————
—————————————
unnecessary poems
the Flarf King says,
“never wait”
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as a worm baby you didn’t crawl out of a book
you were nourished with puff gland liquids
domestic rectal housekeeping
constantly trying to read
how many times did it take ?
little victories, Johnny Boy
the skinned knees
the Cod Liver Oil
YOU REMAIN AN EXPENSIVE EXPERIMENT
I hear the relatives whisper
that you need to be taken in hand
for stricter governing
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listen man
it isn’t me dissatisfied
with the furniture
or
the crust on the bread
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arguments over the value of clay or sand
that fresh dug hole at the cemetery
dainty sorrows there love child
daintiest of the dainty—your new poem
bold words facing the rigors of professional readers
the descendants of Noah with faith based cutlery
pessimistic spoons—optimistic forks
knives that glow in the dark
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all the honeymoon suites in Vladivostok are named after Yul Brynner – a portrait above each bed – eggs for breakfast-
how did a man with a bald head survive the Russian winters? –
the will to power of the robotic cowboy –
– virgin machines cry oil tears
a reflection in a bell pepper
the ship sets out to sea
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it was all about the angles of insertion
– how far in could you enter the cave? did you need a rope wrapped around your waist to assist with your method of egress?
the door closed but you knew it always would
and always will
cross the circle with the straightest line you could draw
–
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the watery soup offered no sustenance – vowels sunk to the bottom of the pan –
one potato per family
– I listened to all their back stories of beatings, small victories, missing shoes, jukebox anecdotes that meandered on through the night and out the door down past midnight pharmacies and flickering neon lights –
the sound of pool balls cracking like arthritic knuckles popping
the man in the wheelchair just rolled down the hill
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the alien cutlery amazed the scientists – there were no words
there were no equations that could describe the achievements of what they held –
the food was meat free
fed to soldiers in bombed cities –
unused explosives
stored next to fridges stinking of rotten vegetables
urban problems everywhere your eyes can see
one day I’m going to dive through the circle and not return
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small men walking across the surface of Yuls head without permission –
he felt itches
little scratches
– a small flag planted just above his left ear
– patriotic feelings for a country you’ve never visited
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(in all truth
I only ever read what I’ve written) – flarf flying like kites crash landing in empty fields and packed cities of buses
rushing pedestrians – we change our personas at least twice a year
– it would be criminal not to
wouldn’t it?
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ultimate flarf:
• the cut up of obituaries
•TV guides
•your ex-best friends dissertation
•the fourth book you read last Thursday
(imagine cutting up David Bowles words? a small part of the world would possibly explode)
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fake news reams of flarf
line after stolen line – a poem made from your mums grocery list – most people don’t
think
guilty in small increments
that gradually stack up
– most residents of dark town fainted when they saw snake for the first time –
cold
white horses horses with flaring nostrils horses in dreams –
indiscriminate use of someone else’s thoughts
the copy write lawyer would have a field day
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the neighbours genitals were the talk of the neighbourhood – a strange aroma of rotting wood and damp dogs
– measurements that confused the measuring men – to long
to wide
an expanding circle
the fur line necklace
– the bell boy knew all the secrets from the Yul Brynner suite
(Checks his Facebook account)
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unbookish life skills learnt
behind bike sheds
experience can not be taught
trial by fire while you wear a paper suit – the uncomfortable librarian
like a baby giraffe in high heels – she ushered the illiterates out with a loaded gun –
– everything is a composite of something –
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the man with the flashlight carried spare batteries for
he knew he would be king
( they’d seen it all before, the torch man waiting to a shine a path of light but falling asleep as the sun set )
( batteries going to waste in a backpack )
the floating ducks feed with old books
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stricter governance could cost a pretty penny –
left alone in the dark with animal bones and re-runs of Sgt.Bilko –
I knew I had misread the small print
I knew they were taking notes
the barber told me about the door in my head , cod liver balm
across the river bed
we knew skinned it
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ask God for a blessing
what you will get
is disciplinary cruelty
the poor devils in prison
wives and husbands
marriage and ownership
greed and possessiveness
————and then one day
you discover that you are impatient
and you hear your wife say in the other room
“through whom can I have anything
that I can call my own ?”
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couldn’t sleep last night
thinking about scientists
monkeying with the calendar
the Puritans outside the house
protesting everything unnatural
————–anything physically possible
endless hopes of a lucky incident
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on the evening news there was a report
about Adam, Noah, and Jesus
angry
at people who think human life
“DEVELOPED FROM THE GROUND UP”
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(POOL HALL CONVERSATION)
he asked his wife,
“are you the landlord of your body
or the tenant ?”
——————————————-
laughing and weeping Noah
all those people—blood and flesh
wrong people—yes, WRONG PEOPLE
misinterpretations
no one wanted them saved
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the crust of the bread
the orphan of the lot
the furniture is wonky
dusty and uneven
supported by books and bric a brac
the scene of her death was possibly staged
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the prison of marriage
from which you can’t tunnel out
– three meals a day
– not trusted with sharpe metals
– you shaved your head in protest*
– look outside the window jealous of the dogs running free
– all your plots to escape have hidden in the pages of books you know she’ll never read
*in reality you wanted to be Yul Brynner
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(I read a poem that said on the Mayflower there was a secret sect who spent the trip below deck )
the protests will continue
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makes no difference if you’re the landlord or the tenant
the edifice is crumbling
silver fish and rising damp
– a room specially for neurosis
– a greasy oven
– the small model of the ark on the mantle piece
did you know Noah couldn’t even swim?*
*he was also allergic to goats
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I sent a postcard to Robert Frost
asking him to write a poem
about that first Christmas
after the atomic bombings
in Japan
—————
—————
American children collected enough milk money
to construct a large library in Hiroshima
they supplied it with endless copies
of The Bible in 26 languages
it was important that The Word be available
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there was a hideous exaggeration of myself
in the Sunday morning mirror
sort of a Charles Addams cartoon
——————————
——————————
bound to fail like a shipwreck
on the boulders of God’s wisdom
reality being superficial and fragmentary
weak in ability to evoke emotion or concern
thinking how easy it would be
to set down my whip and chair
and welcome the beast with open arms
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indiscriminate use of someone else first
——————and then their thoughts
nature has no artificial distinctions
consume—reproduce
talk to a wounded
Leviathan
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at the first Christmas the atomic kids made the lights sparkle just by holding them –
– cooking the goose just by cuddling them –
– the Geiger counter needle went ballistic near the bible – all the needles pointed at the same word SALVATION
SALVATION
SALVATION
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the artificial soon became natural
– you couldn’t tell the difference
you couldn’t taste the difference –
– fake meat on false legs
a mouth full of grass like a dumb cow – and then the thoughts
the thoughts
they came like soldiers under the cover of bastard night
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HONEYMOON NIGHT
cooking the goose
by cuddling it
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Sodomy makes life dangerous
even deadly
it can never be erased
always a rim on the crater
memories of Hawaiian Week
and that silly grass skirt
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he was also allergic to the irregularity
of the process of writing poetry
slips of paper from the research lab
private words from Ms. Curie
“things far worse than physical suffering”
the future goes beyond answers
****Satan driving a Pontiac
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I sent a postcard to Robert Frost
asking him to visualize sodomy
with a telephone pole
lettuce-like rectal tissue
the smell of bay rum
afraid to question what was next
———————-
———————-
first the tornadoes swirl
then the volcanoes erupt
Leviathan spit
I sent Robert Frost a postcard
asking him why he was so silent
he replied, “true poets speak through silence”
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sodomy through silence
sodomy that does not imitate sodomy
sodomy that imitates an imitation of sodomy
sodomy not ornamented with dialogue or other noise
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even as a small child
I thought anything Hawaiian
was beyond silly and highly suspect
the costumes and dances
reeked of potential sex
——SERVICE WITH A SMILE——
tourists at best were blundering idiots
****Salvador Dali suggested that the odds
of sodomizing a grand piano were higher
than mating with an island native
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archaeologists hiring guys from the pool hall
to dig around your personal life
no one gave notice to the explicit graffiti
in the washroom
the crude drawings of genitals
the male members
complete with projectile jism
the female privates were rather odd
a strong hint of stylistic impoliteness
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Mary Beth
humanized through suffering
——————————
something weird about her taking her bra off
becoming a participant rather than an observer
SHE was neither a short story nor a novel
linguistic constructs
seem to be in need of fresh batteries
****Mary Beth listed under annonymous
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EXPECTED CALLOUSNESS
from lawyers and detectives
an upstairs office with a window
overlooking a rust-roofed suicide parlor
$20 handjobs in the side alley
exhausted
having sprinkled their seed
they would wander aimlessly
towards their shanty
where the wife would be watching TV
an older bagpipe of a woman
with finger holes long atrophied
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4000 years of written symbols/printed words
20 years of eating falsified mackerel cakes
never safe from imprisoning fabrications
any human nature in the neighborhood
has fallen into concealment
****$20 handjobs without the grandeur of love
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an Adult Bookstore
that exhorts its followers
to show charity
through almsgiving
“all males all the time”
****main street may be brown but what the hell
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“POETRY AFFORDS NUTRIMENT OF A HIGHER ORDER”
what the hell does that mean ?
keep rubbing my eyes
trying to distinguish
between readers and writers
———————————
some sort of common ground
isolation on the table
like salt and pepper
———————————
old dregs and leavings
left behind
fresh excursions break out
poets snacking on unawares
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USING PAST TENSE FOR PRESENT EXPERIENCE
it’s always creepy seeing the framed photo
of the baby that got tossed
inwardly troubled
the entire family
have to hide the ladders
to keep them off the roof
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silly grass skirts have been banned by the HEALTH AND SAFETY DEPARTMENT – fire risk
fire risk dangerous clothes at the cook out where the food is cooked underground and no part of the animal is wasted
THEY EVEN EAT THE ANUS
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allergic scratching
he thinks insects and bugs
are burying in
birthing eggs under his skin
(skin that is cracked and burnt as
this planet is to close to the fire)
private letters will become public
nothing is safe
a little bit of sweat never hurt the man with idle hands
the devil doesn’t drive a Pontiac
he has a chauffeur
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hawaiian waves brought the sharks closer to shore
stereotype palm tress stood there
unimpressed with the tourists choice of clothing
– houses on stilts
like they’re afraid of the ground –
when i was there i nearly fell into a volcano
i saw no evidence of sodomy or long division
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they dug around with spoons
didn’t get to far
just saw mushrooms and worms
a small discovery when you found out what it could do
female nurses always made you blush like a tomato
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Mary Beth told me that her 4th boyfriend didn’t like her blonde hair
all her boyfriends were called Peter
she wanted to be a failed model
she once did judo and understood why people preferred to talk to animals
or plants rooted to the spot –
she was monosyllabic and monochrome
feed forever with a plastic spoon
candy striped jumper
my last spring at this age
am i waking up?
or going to bed?
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sodomy in the dictionary
biblical definition
a small bit of dried blood
some say it while others walk the line –
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a snake that is eating it tails the sign for infinity the detectives are in the back pockets of the lawyers – the office is high in the air
– the office looks over an empty parking lot
– the offices air conditioning stopped working two weeks ago
– on the office wall was a calendar and every day had a big black X in it
– after the $20 handjob he walked back to his rented room feeling 50lbs lighter
the sound of bagpipes sounded like animals being slaughtered
her fingers were bent but it didn’t stop her touching him
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so many of our heroes are manufactured
and not cut from the vine
having the baby in amateur theatricals
the upper mouth blasphemes
the lower mouth snarls
a muscularly contorted hole
——————————
——————————
when Adam pulled the first baby from Eve
he knew in his heart that he wasn’t the father
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when it comes to sodomy
which is more important ?
before or after
sodomy with a personality
the memory of which
can never be annihilated
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——-to voluntarily engage in anus consumption——–
the violence of the meat
often makes enemies around the circle
****the taste, a blend of heaven and hell
in an embryonic sauce
****a large rubber band with a hint of pork
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infanticide, parricide, matricide
written on slips of paper
oldest son kills father with shotgun blast
daughter tosses infant out automobile window
mother lives with knowledge that her blood is tainted
SHE KNEW NOT TO HAVE CHILDREN
the means were known—the end was understood
the angels told her to marry Christ and be a holy sister
for her, baby-making was to be no innocent work
****the germs of tragedy are famous for their itch
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no evidence of sodomy at the truck stop
and then someone turns on a light
and sodomy is everywhere
——————————–
the glory of sunlight through painted glass
how strong is the pull of the flesh ?
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———-an euphemism for outsider semen———-
the guilt of being born with yellow or red hair
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female nurses who wanted to measure
the tension between
conscious motivation
and unconscious desire
the adornment serves dual masters
———————————-
detectives discovered veiled language
in the garbage
photos of fornicators and sodomites
the divine as well as the demonic
———————————
a compendium of neuroses
postcards from Hawaii
scientists with flashlights
memory mazes
****binoculars in bed can be belittling
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a plastic spoon can never replace the village prostitute
————————————————————-
dressing up as a ballerina at Halloween
sodomy, a staged operetta of accident
a simple bend over
SODOMY: youthful fascination wakes up on the wrong bus
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her fingers were bent
but it didn’t stop her
from smoking a pipe
people in the Employment Office
were arguing about the definition of poetry
each line had to have a specific number of words
each line had to have a specific number of letters
real poetry had to be written by real poets
educated people with a fascination for deviant thoughts
“you try to describe something that cannot be described in words”
“you try to convey a feeling that cannot be conveyed in words”
some drunk in the back said,
“the best poetry often comes from a slip of the tongue”
——————————————————-
I was listening to violin lessons
and watching a sex tape
of mechanical dolls
they weren’t real humans
but they were making real poetry
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poetry which cynically depicts fake MEANINGLESSNESS
crazy poems about the normal pleasures of adolescence
crazy poems about the sins of science
no one can argue the complexities of the modern world
yet, there are warehouses of photographs of ordinary citizens
totally divorced from any concern for the ordinary
****huge bombs that destroy color…
leaving behind a toxic black & white
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the first poem was written in symbols on walls – a buffalo
a hunter
M shaped birds in the pre-Cambrian sky
– when people first started eating MEAT
they mixed the blood and sprayed the wall
– they were hand jobs but they were free
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Adult Bookstores where no child are permitted – the dusty rim of the doors that ring to alert the shopkeeper of your entrance –
the charity’s man outside in someone else’s shoes rattles his pot PENNIES PLEASE PENNIES PLEASE
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I got lube in my eye
I rubbed it red raw like raw meat
– a gypsy woman told me it meant something
she touched my palm
looked at the creases
– it doesn’t something to her
I was isolated from the facts
I needed to tunnel out
the gypsy woman touched my hand
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I got confused with the tense
I saw that film tomorrow
the baby was thrown back into the moving car
I shaved the hair back unto my face
I build this from the ground up
there was no roof
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MAKE-BELIEVE SELVES
I woke up as James Brown
instantly facing the uncontrollable distresses
of life as the Godfather of Soul
pushed from the safety of Dark Town
into the cruel world of white people
my beautiful shoes ruined by the margin of hate
a real black man trying to find my center
not a hybrid or a turncoat
****so sad to see my friends and family
as wind-blown trash
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it is okay to cut down a million trees
to make toothpicks
but just try to take poverty
away from the common man
****God constantly thinks about the debt
that humans can never repay
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what is a hero?
– I don’t know – a soldier who died doing his job?
– a cancer kid?
– I don’t know –
the baby snarled and tried to bite umbilical chord off
the mother cried and spat blasphemes
the baby learnt to walk within a week
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on the evening news
a small child in a classroom
in Kentucky
stood up and asked the teacher
“what is a valentine ?”
****a valentine is a speculation of future sin
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LONG DIVISION CARRIED TO A POINT OF SOPHISTICATION
grave numbers in a wretched neighborhood
shacks and huts and cardboard sleeping arrangements
an excess of individuality constantly interrupting
old fashioned sodomy not that sissy stuff
as a matter of force without regard to health
a quick smoke during the interval
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RUBBERING THE WOODPECKER IN DARK TOWN
locomotive sodomy on the tracks of pleasure
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when they captured the advancing army they dehumanised them –
– removed clothes
– shaved heads
– instigated pogroms
– feed them offal with blood sauce
– melted down tanks and guns
( in years to come diaries were found with teeth marked pages )
heads on poles
anuses buried 6ft deep
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baby making seems scientifically impossible
all the composite parts
have to work together but we are not precision machines
thinking meat
thinking meat
thinking meat
the news paper headlines warned everyone of the move to bring back that old time religion –
– money paid for the first born
holy moly sister
holy moly baby bird
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long distance truckers have specially designed cushions
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common denominators
matching hair
same coloured eyes
off the assembly line
– robots feel no guilt –
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comatose in clean bed linen
attached to beeping machines*
to signify if you’re alive
that time between sleep
& awake a grey line of dim wattage light where weak fingers grasp at what isn’t there
– stockinged nurses are fantasy fodder taking pulses looking at small watches
THEY ARE CLEAN AND GERM FREE
the weird language of the body
you don’t understand
yes they say, it’s supposed to be that small…
they wouldn’t serve me cigarettes in Hawaii but
*the beeps mean something morse code
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the bowl of her pipe was fashioned into the face of someone who had wronged her –
they didn’t want the words we had written
they didn’t follow their rules –
anarchistic words
they only wanted empirical poetry
– they thought the word contained souls and we knew they were wrong –
corduroy academics never set foot in dark town
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EDUCATION
in Dark Town
comes from the School of Hard Knocks
****often man’s pursuit of wealth requires a handgun
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Mexican fishermen disagree over how small is small
gathering friends there in the hospital room
with the groin acorn on full display
it was all people talked about at school
even the lesbians found it humorous
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I gave her a valentine
with instructions on how to construct an ARK
I also included a map where the ladder was hidden
yesterday when I drove past her house
the entire family was on the roof
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NO CERTAINTY IN SEEING
and yet you saw the entire family on the roof
their neighbors were nervous
the known and trusted pattern
of life on that street
was compromised
who or what was the enemy ?
self-centeredness
more impossible than possible
the water would surge
and everyone would drown
what would their last thought be
****damn, picked the wrong religion again
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long distance truckers
with their special smell
homo Americanus
nonteleological math
long division and sodomy
a two-legged cushion for each buttock
a prescription salve for conventional morality
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fragmented lives on the road
sweethearts in all directions
beautiful wildflowers
and coffee counter sharks
pilgrims of romance
hungry for that high grade stuff
meth with poppy dust
“Thank You Sweet Jesus”
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THOUGH MOMENTARILY SHAKEN
FROM PETTY SELF-INTEREST
motionless in shallow thoughts
essentially motionless
————————–
loved ones are flat
one-dimensional
nothing to set one panting
SHRIVELING SEX
increasingly ludicrous
“leave a specimen in a cup”
****gangrenous romance
—————————
CRITICAL CONCERN
the adequacy of the use
the withholding
skillful antics
tiptoe camouflage
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re: the number of years shaved off
with the first little whiff
of success
rediscover your identity
circumstantial narrative in poetry
the periscope of the poet
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like-minded people on the roof
nothing arbitrary
handbills warning of the flood
pitting life against death
like never before
scientists calling it a natural disaster
a return to death with intentional artistry
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as James Brown I shuffled outta darktown into the light
of car chases
black economic empowerment
and street drugs –
living in America
a role model for those below the comments
the first black president who’s shoes sell in email for 5 figures
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a million trees cut down to make a million matches which are used to burn down a million trees – lumberjacks with toothpicks hanging
the black lungs of the amazon
– how deep is to deep?
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Kentucky valentine and the family tree
once removed from the scene of the crime – cousins in dungarees – home made cards with molasses finger marks
– sin now was the towns motto
SIN NOW
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—————SIN NOW
the experienced poet has no trouble
shaking sex loose
the guilt of hearing cries
behind a motel door
never mind
significance in age
harmless sex
harmless pleasure
a tiny broken arm
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I sent a postcard to Robert Frost
I made light of nonreproductive sex
a simple sketch of his dong
the lizard of a famous poet
serving many functions
but never a doorstop
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legitimate sexual expression
aware of limits
respectful of marginality
intellectual and artistic sodomy
backdoor bohemia, more authentic
best-rewarded those who go first
intentions change with dialogue of seed
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( everyone thought they were individuals in the neighbourhood
everyone though they were unique –
but they were all cut from the same cloth
eaten by moths )
fashionable sodomy in gentrified parts of town – the tickle of the beard on the neck – in Kentucky they just called it “heavy cuddling”
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long division
carry the one
reduce to the smallest thing
until it’s indivisible
the neighbourhood boiled down to the sum of its parts then blown away by the wind
or completely and utterly destroyed by:
•falling bombs
•state legislation
•stampede of blue bulls
•civil unrest
•deleted by the author
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with an easygoing lack of concern
locals refer to sodomy as “coal mine cuddling”
mental pictures of healthy pink buttocks
bottoms of all design—simply divine
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postcards of Frenchmen splashing happily
at the seashore—bare bottoms on display
no evidence of an opening
only tiny dots
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BEST-REWARDED THOSE WHO GO FIRST
the naked man has nothing to be ashamed of
CONSTANT NUDITY
known to trivialize, de-eroticize, demystify
****old romances litter the sides of the path
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“coal mine cuddling”
a very dark and complicated business
sufficient information points the way
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woodpecker getting head aches with no chance of medical assistance –
those little explosions are constant
—————-
all the school kids willed Moby Dick into existence – the big white whale on broadway
– spray hole sodomy was never frowned upon when you were on the ark –
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life hacks and get rich quick schemes all invoke weaponry
– just ask those who graduated from Hard Knocks High – black eyes in the yearbook …MOST LIKELY TO SERVE A LIFE SENTENCE AT THE BIG HOUSE…
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from the roof the view is better
you can see all across the neighbourhood – the empty swings,
over flowing bins
– all the people in the postcode wanted to know what they were doing on the roof?
– was it a fashion they needed to follow?
the hardware store raised the prices of ladders by 25%
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were they on the roof to spy?
were they there for the view?
were they counting tiles?
it unnerved them
was this end of days or just the middle of the week?
– eating pages of the Gideon and making little fires
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a special smell of life on the road
loneliness, gasoline and cooking meat
– well thumbed picture on the dashboard and Jesus in the rear view mirror
– truck driver Americanus*
*34% chance of murdering a hitchhiker
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————–POETIC SODOMY—————-
OLLY-OLLY-OX-IN-FREE
the constant wobble
cardboard figures around the bed
watching
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performing according to what is expected
innocently eager to please
the gun is pointing
but not at your head
TRUTH IN BUGGERING FICTION
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I told the librarian that I wasn’t interested
in soft music or rainbow colors
no autumn leaves or unicorns
rather, poetry with no sensitivity
to the wrongs of the bedroom
I wanted air-raid siren sodomy
in a tight package of words
no visuals or limited visuals
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EGREGIOUSLY EXPENSIVE
SODOMY
IN OUTER SPACE
therapeutic sex for sanity
****a little Russian goes a long way
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canary-in-the-coal-mine sodomy
robust readers walk away
poets keel over
endless self-questioning
somehow responding with words
brief flirtations with confessional prose
****nervous giggles, baby bird
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you were asked to react the way one would react
if one came face to face with a poet
don’t kid yourself, reality is booby-trapped
catch a glimpse of the other side
and pay the price
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short sentences
short paragraphs
perplexing foreplay
analyzed intercourse
basic assumptions
gender fluctuation
either in
or out
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I saw Robert Frost today
death has been hard on him
all broken down with bad eyes
he was no longer concerned
with the meaning of life
or the direction of history
I complimented him
on his Philip K. Dick t-shirt
he made mention
of my neighbors on the roof
a hairbrain idea to outsmart the Flood
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oh sweet Jesus said at the point of ecstasy
oh sweet Jesus said when your at the lowest ebb on the floor of skid row
– head down toilet bowl
– flowers growing through cement cracks*
poppy meth dust
*it what they’d call a juxtaposition
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lose identity
redefine yourself
hate new identity
repeat
repeat
rediscover the old you in a supermarket 12 years later
– lose identity
a refugee from yourself
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man’s inhumanity to man
Sodomy in Schenectady
surface cynicism with a twist of lemon
man on man—cautious handling
how rough is rough ?
ask yourself,
AM I RESPONDING SYMBOLICALLY TO LIFE ?
****the poetic satirist must assault allegiances
****first-person business, Sodomy in Schenectady
****a hot toddy is priceless in the winter time
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SIN NOW
pay later
experimental sin
professional sinners
religious sinners – hypocrites of the worst kind –
uproot that cross, boy
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the basic ideas of conversational poetry
the bedrock of what is being said
moral, experimental, or neither
——originality of perception——
free-form amoeba poetry
peculiar suggestions
entirely inappropriate statements
sodomy sprinkled with question marks
belly up sodomy
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three words that create expectations:
BELLY UP SODOMY
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coal mine sodomy
a deep clean after the event
– footprints left that lead the the way out the door
the invisible man
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a man in lipstick is still a man
head held high
– school boy toilet wall graffiti outline of a dong
lines of ejaculate up the wall
– undercarriage in the wind
– all your old romances fade but the scent remains
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people from your storybook life
become castaways
no longer sources of satisfaction
their perfection lowered several notches
balloons of disappointment
nervous Surrealists in your living room
poets reading poetry at a disruptive level
jazz musicians cupping their ears
when I spoke to you
I could read your mind
and you were wishing
that you were someone else
earlier you had laughed at your despair
now you seem completely alienated
no longer your ordinary self
detachment can lead to darkness
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break up the detachment
bring in the clowns
the multiple mentalities
poetic words that employ the reader
yes, situations from our daily struggles
any contact with real-life mystery
detectives, Soviet spies, coffee counter girls
the flashlight was so powerful
that simple recognition
seemed religious
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a spotlight so powerful it shines right through you – exposed like an X-ray
– a mile long shadow leads to the harbour –
the arks teary eyed send off
the brass band were hire for an hour and paid per note –
and after the explosion Leviathan closed for an hour
– a mark of respect
– a minutes silence was the closest you came to peace
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zero gravity felatio
headaches and the dry heave
no we’re to lay down after
– Kentucky looked so small
– a never ending Russian doll, thousands of HER
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the other side where rumours persist that the grass is greener –
i looked from a hole in the fence –
no grass
just concrete,
shopping trolleys,
ephemera from the time when truth died,
people looking at screens
a car, a bus,
starving dogs
queues at the coffee shop
landfills of disused poets
but no grass –
I looked through a hole in the fence
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they say that ain’t jelly around the hole
( straight from a C&W tune )
doodley-squat
sprinkled with question marks
self-indulgent poetry
with an Indianapolis crust
shattered flarf
with another Indianapolis crust
Kentuckians on television trying to spell Kentucky
the level of misery around them
extended beyond the borders of the tube
———————
abortive subject matter
fluctuations in Sunday service
the pastor drives a Buick straight-shift
( reciprocal admiration on WordPress )
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poetry in the form of a list
•the last film you watched
•your first LP
•the split between church and state
•the time before fake news
•youthful experimentation with people who’s names escape you
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hair brain scheme to avoid the flood was to go high
high
where birds fly and no cars go –
postcards of the American flag posted with Philip K.Dicks face replacing the stars –
they left space in the dictionary for new words
history goes both backwards and forwards
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in
out
shake it all about
(dirty curtain)
(post honeymoon blues, loose change
loose teeth)
gender so fluid it leaks from every pore
– so much so
I know one day I’ll have to swim out of the house –
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hidden & unknown in the basement
a brown bricked building in Schenectady-
really alone with eyes in a book
– flirting between first and third person narratives –
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ON THE BRINK OF A GREASY FORK
– is just a perfect image for life in Leviathan –
I tried to gather up all the cells around me
I tried to capture all the dead pieces of skin that left my body I wanted to recreate my self –
something more useful then a cardboard cut out –
something more substantial
automatic writing and conversational poetry – building blocks that will hold the edifice up
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they say that the detectives are watching you
because you are employing evil in a creative manner
—–a poet responding symbolically to life
just one huge mass of specialized cells
—————————————-
can you imagine
how God explained
the whole going-to-the-bathroom process
to Adam and Eve ?
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after the departure from Eden
Eve was unsure of God
MISTER ALL-KNOWING seemed unprepared
and lacking in common sense
was HE amused by women taking a pee ?
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please don’t mention paper cuts
around the cardboard cut-outs
a reality beneath the outward appearance
anxious to help it grow
the lover slows the escape
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I ASKED YOU TO HIRE A “BAD ASS” BAND
not a brass band—but it is of no concern
wearing Easter colors they seemed delicate
and the audience loved the possibility
that something could go wrong
a HumptyDumpty moment
or worse
shattered rainbows
on expensive carpet
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the bit part players that once loomed so large have faded into the background
human scenery for a two act play
– poets reading poems about poets
– alienated from yourself you tied string round your waist to keep you tethered here –
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administrators are lurking behind coded walls –
– they are there in the background
detectives learnt behaviour
Florida 2017
a thousand TVs
– shattered flarf
scattered words collected in buckets by entrepreneurs and sold online
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I found myself in line for the new movie
“POETS READING POEMS ABOUT POETS”
the film started
in a lighted window of a perfume shop
thousands of tiny transparent bottles
and one ugly pickle jar with black snot
FAMOUS FLARF FROM AROUND THE WORLD
word combinations so lovely and poignant
that the pain of squeezing them into the FLARF jar
was too much to bear for less stable poets
poets with a history of playing close
to the edge of madness
—————————
wearing layers of large puffy diaper-briefs
uttering endless questions about measuring time
suffering out of tune inner ear static
constantly being pursued
by agents of regret and small town detectives
—————————
unwittingly cruel parents
who were peculiar at best
—————————
the local librarian
a 50 year veteran
of romantic girlishness
fiasco after fiasco
next to impossible
just no where
for your finger to go
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private thoughts about excessive enthusiasm
in cheap motel rooms
SHE was an emissary
perhaps the daughter of a detective
beauty and delicacy on a two dollar bedspread
light kisses and petting north of Mexico
a simple act of lust not a battle
innocent victims fall prey at church
or at home with mother absent
motel lovers accept their responsibility
they murmur not
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grade school sodomy
high school sodomy
and at college
sodomy becomes sprinkled
with question marks
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years and years of “doggy-style” sodomy
and then melodramatic love enters the picture
not wanting to jeopardize the relationship
belly up sodomy becomes the flavor
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simple domestic poetry acquires tragic dimensions
Hollywood comes to Shanty Town and films a feature
“POETS WHO READ POETRY ABOUT OTHER POETS”
poets reading poetry about poets writing poetry
poets reading poems about poets
alternately embracing the characters
and then tossing them to the curb
empathizing
sympathizing
mocking tones of adults
childish giggles
tall ladders and powerful flashlights
the former cannot subsist without the latter
$10 question—can you tolerate the harsh necessities of life ?
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soft click clacks of a keyboard
two hours before the workaday world
sacrifice the higher aspirations ?
anguish over the lower cravings ?
thinking about a future poem:
“ON THE BRINK OF A GREASY FORK”
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BY AGENTS OF REGRET
AND SMALL TOWN CHEESE
hooked up to a lie-detector
“have you ever read a book from start to finish ?”
your feet are in a plastic tub of water
someone prepares to hand you a naked wire
you may be celebrating the Fourth of July early
pray that your Lord is protecting you
pray that he doesn’t know about the antics with the librarian
you were at the wrong place at the wrong time
too young to understand the exchange
poisonous ideas from a snake
the struggle with swollen seed
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god,
like a child
in front of Eves nakedness he blushed and looked away –
– the smallest bodily functions made him giggle
when he saw he sit down to pee he pointed and laughed –
he wasn’t amused
just embarrassed
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the cardboard cut outs start proud and erect but in the rain they lost their lustre and folded – slowly they disintegrated
all appearance changed
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people who walk around at night
with a knife in their hand
hoping to kill something
for breakfast
think that squatting to pee
is a sign of being submissive
and a punishment
(God wasn’t generous with the female drain pipe)
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employees at the Leviathan
regarded poetry as a violation of real life
crafted words with the aid of parlor tricks
anything outside the world of sea shells
or brightly colored autumn leaves
was just meaningless chatter
angry squirrel talk
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the paper cuts was the name of my first band – garage rock
and tight pants
a bad version of the Ramones
1
2
3
4
– on the lower slopes
the snow never settled
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the band all had bad asses
pimples and spots
abrasions and stains
– shamed faced men
– bad musicians and mucus
– leaving tracks like snails
– when Easter comes no one thinks of the dead Christ they think of the bunny and his fur
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a secret room full of comedians
and jazz musicians
on the Ark ?
an angel making animal sounds
flying over the Ark
the rooster went
“cock-a-doodle-doo”
****was the Ark burglar-proof ?
****was there exercise equipment ?
****was there a poster of Frank Zappa standing at the Pearly Gates ?
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the film of poets reading poem was on show for one night only – queues snaked around the block
– past the coffee shop, ice cream parlour, organic whole food cafe :
– members of society dressed up in suits and furs – rattling jewellery dusted off
stiff walkers with polished black shoes
—a new scene in darktown—
amateur poetry clubs sprung up over night
no one knew what to do
words thrown together strange bedfellows with fingers deep in the FLARF jar – well,
at least its a start
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major question of the day:
what color
were the descendants of the Ark ?
the entire human experience unfolded from the Ark
Noah had carefully packed everything they would need
****giant radio telescopes and props for the “Lion King”
****Noah secretly tossed a box of regrets overboard one night
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irrationally fond of people
with long thick eyelashes
—-the bride nearly airtight on the honeymoon night
irrationally fond of people
with long thick eyelashes
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on his deathbed
an angel came to Noah
and asked him
“have you decided where you are going ?”
————————–
after the rearing of all future children
God asks that crazy question
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fall asleep in a library feeling born only yesterday
touching your noodle at a very tender age
morning noon and twice after bed
fall asleep in a library feeling born only yesterday
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it might be noted
that the film had to be interrupted
while personnel removed Allen Ginsberg
antiestablishment poets are no longer being embraced
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strange bedfellows with long thin fingers
in the FLARF jar
the black snot is not chocolate
it is full of recognition but without taste
LIARS say that it reminds them of old fruitcake
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the old poet said that his wife
was full of recognition
but tasted like a German sausage
the embankments were enchanting
but the hair had gone ape-like
———————————-
common sense
common decency
amusing, thoughtful poetry
—————————–
wear nice clothing
and smile all the time
Kentucky has a large cave
small towns surrounding it
are full of monkey business
unpleasant monkey business
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puling and hoisting
and sweating
curious about size
motel shenanigans
——————-
at perplexing best
a rhinoceros horn
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I just smiled and sort of drifted away
passionate debates involving the government
what do I know ?
(+) conquest and extermination
I was thinking about the importance and function of literature
contemplating a simple analysis of current poetry
entertaining the Pavlovs and the Freuds
——————————————
looking at surveillance footage
seeds falling on shallow ground
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NO NEED TO APOLOGIZE
5000 times—-no need to apologize
mental picture—throwing furniture from the balcony
of the Honeymoon Suite
Bohemian Catholics were camped in the parking lot
praying to the Lord and trying to apply the daily lesson
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looking for the remote control
press mute and relax
freedom forgotten
(ugly buttocks coated with ridicule)
living perpetually in the shadow of Dark Town
sweet-smiling on a feather bed
smoked out—idolized only by the dead
SUBTERRANEAN
decayed not rotten
adolescent pleasures
to hell with dying slowly
to hell with being imperturbable
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THE CRIMINAL COMMITS
THE WORST OF CRIMES
AGAINST HIMSELF
the darkening of the narrator
the voice of the poet
a frenzy of words
that lead to self-betrayal
———–external acts at the motel
destructive inner consequences
———–a motel room with two doors
which evades responsibility ?
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pulling and hoisting
footmarks on the wall
striking out on some little side-track
she said that it was like being on horseback
————————–
once the pain stopped
he was sure
it would feel
wonderful
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SHE kept asking me if I saw shiny spots
She wanted me to hold her at a weird angle
and make her slosh around
I wanted her to ride me and make ripples
not simulated pleasure
heavy quote marks around “real”
real kitty-cat action
with towels on top of towels
SHE asked, “what is it with us ?”
basically it was how things move and cling
motion and stickiness and wordless intangibles
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pre-existing terms on the honeymoon
————————————————-
poetry that plays games
and indulges in humor
poetry that permits the reader
to break out in vigorous applause
words on the rickety-bridge
intuitive leap after intuitive leap
ringing up passion on a cash register
shoehorning micro-adjustments
on that worrisome part of the anatomy
—————————————————
—————————————————
the state of languishing on the honeymoon bed
the narrow passage and the foreign worm
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unrequested sodomy leads to embarrassment and unlicensed
lobotomy
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domestic poetry stored in purpose built cabinets – in some states they alphabetise them
in others they store them by theme –
some house wife’s reach for flour only to grasp three verses about Leviathan-
the invisible children giggle like fairies and loons
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THE MILLION DOLLAR QUESTION : “how does one disgorge themselves from the greasy fork?”
– does he get friends to pull it out?
– a huge magnet?
great brains are looking at a solution
the president isn’t even aware of the misuse of cutlery
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a scenario at the cheap motel
SHE suggested we try something far-fetched
my mind was blurred by the possibility
of doing something different
the unavoidable truth of the matter
I never thought about the “mess”
what must have been 3 pounds
of wet, sticky Kalamazoo brown
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meaningless chatter in the food queues
notes passed in the line
– a secret code passed down the female line –
– I know to those that see this will think IS THIS POETRY?
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the secret rooms kept the animals awake
– the trumpet screech from the jazz room – the unseen sounds –
Noah in the sauna
the canteen was vegetarian as they didn’t want to offend the animals
a sense of cannibalism hung in the air
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the descendants were a beautiful colour but it’s what was inside that counted –
the left the ark riding the back of donkeys and lions –
they rated trip as 4.2 out of 5
– a few complained about the lack of WIFI and soft sheets
But they all feed the views we’re exceptional
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—————“IS THIS POETRY”—————-
the answer is YES but only for a fleeting moment
mixing real life with fictional reality will have a short shelf life
readers are dying rapidly and being replaced with generic slugs
somewhere in the future
families will desperately
try to hide relatives who read
DOGS WILL BE TRAINED TO SNIFF OUT BOOKS
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AMATEUR POETRY NIGHT WITH CINNAMON TOAST
monkey business in the nightclub restroom
poets and readers pissing pure brown coffee
movie stars confused over their gender
were asking others for advice
generic people were going outside to pee
one woman refused to go
and had to be removed by medical transport
“FAILURE TO URINATE”
****raw material for the FLARF jar
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“WHO WAS THAT DITZY BLONDE IN THE KITCHEN ? ”
poetry translated from household language
linguistic twists in linguistic games
practitioners in poetry
agree 100%
modern poetry is a horrendous mess
poets are drinking straight from the FLARF jar
reality with double and triple translations
reflections of reality in circus mirrors
****poetry in a pile of fabrications (a hint of cheap perfume)
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a quick peek in the FLARF jar
I saw old-London criminal slang
countless terms for bulbous anatomy
worrisome female fluids
outsized warts
an unmistakable aroma
honkers
nuggets
eccentric particularities
a skeleton of a language scourer
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——poetry that reaches its destination——
rumors that the “box of regrets” tossed overboard
from the Ark was discovered by the Germans
and played a major role in World War Two
****necessitates fanciful reconstruction
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a deathbed – its
sounds comfortable doesn’t it?
– wrapped up in duvets and waiting for death, head on a pillow
– no time for silly questions
– no time for earthly regrets
in the papers today they had a double page spread – an interview with Noah
all stylised and clean
(his beard spelt of honey and cinnamon)
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FLARF and cross-Channel rivalry
————————————
————————————
the next article was about all those women
who fell victim to knock-out drugs
and found themselves
at the mercy of a famous person
“sauce for the goose is not sauce for the gander”
abominable actions occurred
no one really knows
possibly inappropriate Italian bedroom antics
possibly inappropriate French bedroom actions
however, nothing Chinese or Amish
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“WHO WAS THAT DITZY BLONDE IN THE KITCHEN ?”
music translated from the buzz that surrounds errors
humming galore around the ripe fruit of language
practitioners in music
agree 100%
modern music is a horrendous mess
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outside the window
a 1000 questions about noise
what does music actually sound like ?
what about guttural, incoherent singing ?
——————————————-
——————————————-
the small voice said,
“what you did—is what I would have done”
that’s how I make it through the day
AN IMPORTANT STEP—-MOTIVATION
question your willingness to submit yourself
to other people’s mistreatment
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cross-burning poetry
poetry with bright red swastikas
poetry covered in chicken blood
barbarous poetry
words spelled in dark rooms
diluted words as well as butt-naked words
words from Bible class in a church basement
words that would only be found
in the pockets of the Whore of Babylon
——————clearly spelled out
trying to understand something completely
suffering mental health difficulties
because it cannot be erased
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jerked out of sleep
forced to submit to other’s mistreatment
the daily juggle—how many will you drop today ?
clock hands spinning out of control
cheap perfume and cruelty intermingled
bamboozled by personality quirks
translatable currency on the supper table
heterosexual longing
expressed through tooth brushing
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shaking her behind, SHE said,
“this is your rate of exchange”
buttock communication
translate it with your mind
translate it with a wad of currency
———————should someone
call her husband and inform him ?
(+) a provocative way of dressing
(+) flirtatious behavior
****longing rekindled
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woke up to unanswered correspondence – mass of words that needs viewing and digesting –
waking up
or going to sleep feels the same
– strict aunt said if you touch your noodle it will fall off –
refused the pleasure through fear
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removed from buildings
names struck through on lists
shunned at the supermarket
PERSONA NON GRATA
PERSONA NON GRATA
they removed the vowels from all his works – gobbledygook flarf –
the only poets they wanted followed the rules
– the only poetry you hear is on TV adverts for fast food and big cars –
FAKE POETRY AT PROM
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black tar
black lemonade
black tiny moles
black telephones
black snot
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your private sleep time is disturbed
by horny males asking you
if Marilyn Monroe
is really your real-life wife
and if they can take her for a test drive
(+) provocative modes of dressing
(+) flirtatious behavior
dark clouds of yearning block out the sunlight
detached intellectuals parked at the library
puddles of male psychology beneath the urinals
tissue paper for empathy and compassion
someone offers to hold your hand
but intimacy leads to sodomy
——–diluted or partial——–
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Hippies didn’t go to the prom
were not welcome
classmates (no gays)
gussied up in strange burial clothes
the females forced to look like fancy cow-town whores
fake Hawaiian themes year after year
Hawaiian music played on a $39 phonograph
in movies the menfolk get lucky
in real life it was just part of an initiation
“WELCOME TO THE PHONY WORLD”
—————————————–
—————————————–
biological organs on display
perfectly trimmed hair
and pink lips of sweetness
Polish foreskins that didn’t seem natural
in a weird way
males were more concerned than the females
no one touched
only light from the overhead lamp
“my God, I would hate to get that caught in a zipper”
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somewhere in a library book of poems
I read that Allen Ginsberg was proud
of his anal pucker
I was told not to dwell on this
and similar phenomena
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who the hell says things like
the you of yesterday is not extinguished ?
merged, blurred, blended
COLLABORATING
revising the conversations
fragmentary insights
manufactured in private
surrounded by the living dead
often forced to face the unfaceable
****spent and still articulating
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poetry about the senseless finality of death
sleeping in the post-surgery room
pillows full of vivid memories
the air was cooler than the water
she gave you a sponge bath
the front side the back side
and the danger zone between
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things were happening all around and yet she couldn’t find the beginning or see the end
– she heard whispers and harsh rhetoric
– people started hoarding basic necessities (10000 litres of water stored in small bottles) –
– shops sold out of tinned meat
on TV they offered analysis
someone said they had erased the tapes
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in the morning she told me she dreams about dead children, furniture polluted with lice, a city surrounded by tanks, loud screams and buses that don’t run on time
she had four honeymoons
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the whole world was on mute
everything just stopped
a soft pause
– THINGS FALL APART –
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crime against the self
usually committed in darkened rooms
away from prying eyes and the detectives
a frenzied act
all over in a matter of seconds
the explosion mixed with guilt, satisfaction, loathing and the nagging feeling of who’s going to clear the mess up?
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we indulged in horseplay
a square kick to the head
the ugliness reared up and spat
it was wonderful and filled her with dread
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she suggested we try something far fetched so we tried to like each other
– the unavoidable truth
familiarity breeds contempt
she hated his shadows and the meat and bones that cast it
– there we stuck together though
emotional glue and human yeast
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readers are dropping from the edge of the pier
one by one
no need to read now
no need for poetry now
no need for prayer now
slowly the flare filled in the gaps
reality TV ADVERTS woman with healthy hair
the patron saint of poets* can be found at the pool hall
*St. Columba is unemployed, one poem away from skid row
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London criminal slang spread like a plague during the war years – soldiers in Virginia sounded like East End villains –
warts and all
wet socks
trench foot
weak tea
the words are just skeletal bones
context adds the meat
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the box of regrets was retrieved by Nazis in well pressed uniforms
their boots shone like a newly discovered star
– they thought it was the Ark of the Covenant*
– load onto a train it made its way across the cold east
and when the Ark arrived at port the box of regrets wasn’t even on the manifest
*they got the Arks confused
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land masses connected by tunnels and wires – nothing lost in translation but still there’s confusion over words
and the context
that fear you feel when you see the security camera footage and know it’s not you
but someone playing you
in a mask
wearing a wig
there are people who find it abominable that their not famous
not in their own country and definitely not in China
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all evidence was placed there by that rat bastard
he put the ditzy blonde in the kitchen
in the kitchen with the cutlery
and the radio that only plays modern music
music that sours the food
rots the fruit
–
–
–
I’m watching a black and white film there were no explosions or flesh exposed just people talking and a jazz soundtrack —
were things better in those days?
were things better in those days?
were things better in those days?
were things better in those days?
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people tried to ignore the relentless push
intelligence was infringing ever more
thoughts were becoming too large
to color with crayons
elbow to elbow with machines
that whistle “Dixie”
and shed fake tears
****underground poetry based on rivalry
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machines looking at photos
of silicon-chip dinosaurs
listening to chimpanzee based music
sounds without a mathematical pattern
streams of obscure sounds
punctuated by unexpected wails
oft-forgotten Yoko screaming
the queen of vocal grapplings
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music with an insistent beat
Yoko and her tiny fists
shouting a single sentence
SHE was a goldfish flopping
————————————
————————————
I wanted John to solve the riddle
but he was dead
straggling behind
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won the lottery
a free pass
to undergo
a sex-change operation
when I called the number
no one spoke English
mental morphing
my beautiful dong
for a dried up Clementine
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it was gender bender day
at the truck stop
wee ones and in-betweens
a couple of jelly doughnuts
a Feisty Fox
a Goldilocks
gum chewing knockouts
one ancient granny
claimed she’d did Cole Porter
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so Yoko asked,
“wanna see a feminine version ?”
and after I looked I went home
all I could think about
was Yoko’s mother
did she have the same slug ?
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contemporary rap lingo
Italian cigarettes
pressing the gas pedal to the floor
boy scouts using criminal slang
exerting pressure and making it felt
masturbating Anglo-Saxon style
****masturbating as a form of counterfeit GAY conduct
—————————————————————
just try to cash a check with your hands out of place
SHE said that it was medium-sized
you thanked God it wasn’t less
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you papered your living room walls
with pages from the King James Bible
and as you put up the last page
you realized
that you had made a mistake
the exact facial expression
your father made
in the delivery room
he told the nurse
that he had accidently ate
some cat food
a colorization of the truth
no one thought the worst
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a skillet poet cooking up
a literary experiment
slang-peppered twice
fascinating swirls
for tattoos
there was a naughty word
and a nymph with no underwear
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I sent a note to my friend in Canada
I told her that my thoughts had been centered
on the food we eat
for some odd reason I think that food
falls from the sky
demons feeding their servants
dirty rotten demons
equals
dirty rotten food
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how does one keep the poets
insensitive to the need
for more immediate wealth ?
—————I tried to picture the detectives
as angels around the Cross of Redemption
alabaster Christ in the morning sun
the law-bugs are thick today
dog dicks on two legs
“Hey Pinky”
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HOW MANY CITIZENS FAIL TO FULFILL THE LAWS
NECESSARY TO RECEIVE THE SAVIOR’S BLESSINGS ?
that’s the key that starts the engine of
“Look, I’m living life now”
LOOK I’M LIVING LIFE NOW !!!
I know that there is a black Pentecostal church
inside the walls of geography
I can locate them with my ears
white men like me are blind
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Yoko is back
returning from her exile inside the collective mind of the avant garde –
she was tiny and lost inside his shadow
tiny and lost pussy cat
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No English speaky
just gestures pointing and shouting – some drew what they couldn’t say –
anatomically incorrect but you get the picture –
scrotum a retracted dried walnut
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inbetween genders all in dungarees and short hair -who cares where they piss?
as long as they wash their hands
WASH YOUR HANDS
and comb your hair
he was eating the chewing gum he stored under classroom tables
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Italian cigarettes mixed in with the finest herbs –
rap cigarettes for the urban gentleman –
new lexicon
new words
the goalposts are moved
– sock masturbation*
new Boy Scout badges:
•web design
•economics
•analytics
•metaphysical philosophy
•Bowieism
*there are those that admit it and those that live in denial
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people were waiting in line for a reward of merit
strong souls up to their knees in harshness
puritan boulders on top of puritan shoulders
a simple schooling in Christian logic
they say that the SHE creature is in the tree
her roots naked for all to see
her sex rooting for Adam
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————————————————————————-
———POETS SPEAKING HUMAN VERY WEAKLY
beyond understanding
most likely incoherent
nutty language
I got upset at the library
endless sorrow and revulsion
it was like EVE was the mastermind
———-anguish wet with droplets of pain
identities lost in remoteness
saccharine rich blasphemy
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a worrisome part of the anatomy
grotesquely oversized
bulbous
———-
———-
self-inventorying
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a friend in Canada
in the woods with the bears
posts letters about the quality of life and her love of French cigarettes –
the meat on the fork once had eyes
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how many citizens are registered at the town hall?
mistakes in the census
where do all these people hide?
undercover people that don’t exists on any lists
– the underbelly of the populace
– living now 23 feet under that radar
the headaches of a 1000 hymns
James Brown priest with voodoo feet
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SHE posted daily letters
not just ordinary letters
but important self-documenting letters
other people might walk around as nobodies
but SHE was not a brazen lie
no sleazeballs in her family tree
SHE was proud of her position in the Alphabet Dance
****life was not modular—-things being interchangeable
was okay for storybooks and movies but not for real life
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BUSY BEGGING EMERGENCY FIRST AID
poetry recovering in the background
behind the billboard for Christ
the poet succumbs to the streets of Dark Town
taking the spider pills and climaxing blood
loving the white women and their rolls of fat
living Halloween each and every day
———————————————–
sitting in a circle listening to incest stories
workshops on bath salt sentimentality
sleeping in a group home
with people who pull wings off bugs
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I joined the line to see what was at the end
but there was another line
that joined another line – the view
the back of someone’s heads
– a head like a boulder hewn from Noah’s mountain
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—-a head like a boulder hewn from Noah’s mountain
peculiar to conversational poetry
Noah’s mountain being basically “emotional poverty”
the world was a lonely place
NATURE was basically in charge of artistic expression
the wind was constantly singing,
“go tell it on the mountain”
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the children of the Ark
singing to the mountain
while the struggle and suffering
began to take shape
poets carrying their crosses
poets not only having to survive the wilderness
but having to conquer it and build the cities
a break with the past is costly
try not to think about the Seventh Seal
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the final day
the day that one makes account with the Lord
the fear of parental domination
the fear of sexual maturity
the fear of leaving the mother’s protection
the fear of breaking bread with the community
————————————————–
standing in line
endless heads on shoulders
boulders hewn from Noah’s mountain
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all those legal papers signed
at the agency of fatherhood
at what price a sense of selfhood
the lack of an initiation rite
sidetracked by boulders on the path
fully rounded heads hewn by the Lord
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—————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————-CONSTANTLY SCRUBBED BUT NO LABOR
CAN EVER MAKE CLEAN———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————
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those legal papers were never really read
no-one could be bothered with all that
small print
magnifying glass with the price tag still attached
– the boulders were positioned in a pattern that resembled a constellation not seen by the human eye
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poetry written about approaching footsteps
angry footsteps
God marching around the garden
a famous tread in the garden of Eden
the day the gate was locked
—————————
no one questioned why God would have feet
————-why would he be upset ?
He was the author of history
life tramples life
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A COLLECTION OF WORDS:
( ALL THE ILLS THAT FLESH IS HEIR TO )
unprotected poets
boundless melancholy
weeping and almost weeping
pain signaled by screams
Moses was forced to toss boulders at sinners
Moses was forced to swallow rope
until it came out both ends
Ham seeing his father’s penis
bloodstained forever—the criminal lambs
defiled in love—the stare of Heaven full face
the serpent and the father’s rod
sexual rivalry
before Freud
———–
———–
labeling straight from religious neurosis
tortured with feces and urine
at an early age
constantly being reminded where people came from
being forced to stare at the wound
being forced to spit on it
badmouthing Satan
badmouthing the man snake
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homosexual tendencies induced by Oedipal love
I couldn’t stop loving myself—it went too far
———————————————————
the strong struck down the weak
LikeLike
( ALL THE ILLS THAT FLESH IS HEIR TO )
a square edge world with a shapeless God
baptism with water saved from the Flood
circumcision stained broken glass
big fat umbilical cords
—————————-
—————————-
dust blown from the desert
dust on the hands of time
ghetto mud in Dark Town
hymn-singing
gospel-shouting
hand-clapping
Pentecostal jazz
redeemed from Adam’s sin
justified by faith
mother cries—thrown to the curb
no one tied to her
a free agent in a cruel cycle
20 years being squeezed for milk
humiliated by white people
how do they walk upright ?
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being forced to underline
autobiographical elements
pangs of guilt
exploratory fear
childhood isolation
parental confinement
so simple when reduced to words
rather than listen to and obey the home story
sex dog troubles things a thousand miles away
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“grotesquely oversized”
ego description of the flarf king
– a 1000 medical studies all concluded the same
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weak poets lost in the grey clouds of antiquity
the new breed are here but
incoherent with words that end in the margins
their seeds are sown amongst the finest manure
–
LikeLike
she posted autobiographical letters to the future you
the letter documented feelings
things she’d seen
a list of her favourite songs
anecdotes and laws she’d broken
nothing callous
she told me to write a book
she told me it wouldn’t be a best seller
but it would be treasured
life isn’t
but it is
the sleaze balls that hung out at the Curie house always
ripped their trouser legs as they climbed over her fence
the security dogs barked but you knew they couldn’t be bothered to bite
the books are always better than the film even when they’re not in
3D
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is it homosexual to love thine self?
LikeLike
all the real truth was removed
whitewashed it
the flare magnet moved the words around
to create a new view point
i ate the blackstar toast
isolation in thought
no dots to join
when the got off the train the saw the sign above the entrance
EAT MORE WORDS
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shapeless god like running water
the bead of sweat
baptised in saltwater
the black rim of dirt
around the communal bath
the way the dust sticks in the gaps
under the flaps
of skin
her face like a map
of unexplored terrain
south of florida
her breast milk curdled
the swollen pain
the skin removed from the circumcision
grafted on to the burn victims face
waste not
want not
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the approaching footprints the rain tapping on the window
invisible fingers writing an invisible book –
they climbed over the fence to the garden of Eden, they bought a packed lunch with them, a blanket with cat hair – the garden was overgrown
the fruit was rotten
dogs runs wild
they made a mental note to write a one star review
why would God have feet – more importantly why did Adam have a navel?
the dogs of Eden barked all night long
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the dogs of Eden barked all night long
unborn children
were having holes poked in them
blackhearted villains
some with wings
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EAT MORE WORDS was the law
watch each other
eat each other
laughingly sister and brother
mad cow disease humor
if we were in the military we could say,
“Old Buddy”
I could show you my gun
pretend that I was shooting people
you shouldn’t touch the barrel
it’s just not right
****hope flickers briefly
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I was upset about the undercutting
of my sexual activities
who knew SHE was so dominant ?
ride a horse and shoot a gun
shoot me right in the head
shoot me right in the heart
SHE was like six women in one
I told them at the hospital
that SHE broke my arm
they thought I deserved worse
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SHE never said that word out loud
“brother”
so what if I married my sister
people always say,
“what a convenient crutch”
———————————
free to live my life
outside the prison walls of religion
to love my own blood
to love myself twice
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the barking dogs with
xylophone ribs
with spittle and foam on pointy teeth
poked with a stick
a big shape stick
let loose to run free
feral beasts
off the leash
unborn children didn’t need to worry about this
–
and tomorrow the boy becomes a man
LikeLike
brothers got your back
gang mentality
years at boarding school
dormitory nights
no secrets when everything is shared
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almost all of my free time was spent at the barn
SHE rode horses and made them jump
I mingled with other barn husbands
it was rather a poor white man Harlem
something was happening
the later it got
the more
it was
HAPPENING
————–
in the horse world
the sex organ is a weapon
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a lot of thankless labor at the barn
mounds of poop and gallons of pee
straw and hay and feed and treats
weaker, submissive women with hopes
to be controlled and mounted
to submit to the weapon of love
rough lovemaking with little seduction
overpowering friction for as long as possible
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SHE said that it was always the best
when it wouldn’t go in at first
a slight delay in alignment
almost, almost, yes—now for sure
—————————–
test the power of sin
a receptive family member
prayers and a go at it
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at what point is tampering permitted ?
no clean answer—linguistic oddities
I often smoked with a cosmonaut
I never asked him
why he had a Chinese dictionary
on his dashboard
he told me several times
that people with pet peeves
were weaklings
—————-
often when he spoke
I had mental pictures
of a blowtorch
on the sex parts
cruel stuff
so thankful, baby bird
you had a happy life
LikeLike
please don’t confuse the cosmonaut
with my Puerto Rican boyfriend
my big muscular brown man
they said that it was rape
but it didn’t feel like rape
our paths crossed
zero resistance
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angels on a far-off hill
I wave and they fly away
the world is fascinating
on expensive drugs
unwavering love for the good stuff
everything immediate to the eyes
the kingdom back there
Holy Sustenance
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old friends and telephones
gone to the tombs
defeated people on cheap drugs
defeated people with defeated eyes
I didn’t even count the money
I just said, “I want the good stuff”
LikeLike
cheap drugs cause people to self-destruct
so many slip down the other side of the precipice
the angels with their eye contact
I am not afraid
my eyes open wide
David Bowie singing, “Have a Black Star”
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“A QUICKENING LOOK” from an angel
no value in a plea
life is little more
than the first page of a novel
drugs bring up phrases from gospel songs
“I was his and he was mine”
————————–
no time to wait
I just jumped in
and swam across the Jordan
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TO CROSS OVER TO THAT WORLD
JUST BEHIND THE EYES
to have the world’s strongest man
pick you up and carry you around the house
to toss you in bed and make love to you
regardless of gender
the hardness in him
was the thing missing in previous love
beyond argument, it was the firm hardness
————————————————–
at the clinic I saw a small booklet
“Re-evaluate your rape”
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at the Tombs
relatives talk to the dead
by old fashioned telephones
outside the river Jordan flows by
angels fly over the prison camp
agitating those below
huge genitals
on display
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RAPE TO THE BRINK OF DEATH
affection and comfort
unwavering love
Gospel tunes
on the radio
my Puerto Rican boyfriend
sleeping in a bright green pasture
blue-black bulls sniffing his scrotum
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sometimes I use an air-mattress pump
to inflate my Puerto Rican boyfriend
to an enormous size
I like when he picks me up
and tosses me in the air
like an infant
I like when he carries me
around the house
talking to me in baby-jargon
****several times the neighbors complained
I warned them that God may strike them blind
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the darkness of the skin
intimidates many readers
Dark Town poets read and write
under street lights
horns honking
small handguns coughing
blighted expectations are common
jails and prisons with color bars
love preached but not practiced
not a single library in Dark Town
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I was so upset I left the city
I crossed the line
I left it behind
lived a life with no activity
– I took pictures of house and myself to prove I existed
– I phone the girl I lost my virginity to but I am the wrong number
– but I recognised the voice at the end of the line
– the nurse who was at my birth follows me online
LikeLiked by 1 person
——-recollection——–
young me on a horse
hat wobbling on my head
– I was told to stand up when it pissed
and he pissed
and it sounded like a waterfall – I was scared by the noise
I could only guess the size of the meat
– it galloped off
the hat wobbled ———
horse nostrils are dark black holes
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to be the rider
and the ride
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get back on the train
the train goes one way
LikeLike
(+) jazz instruments reflect social and cultural orientation
————————————————————————–
literature has its roots in what it was your momma
put down in front of you at the breakfast table
the complexity of the meal
the constant contest
with brother
LikeLike
any analysis of literary compositions
———————————————-
“IT IS TIGHT SHOES FOR YOU”
The Battle Hymn of the Conversationalist
ideological transmission in word form
beggars with their own cutlery
———————————————–
the smell of unhindered infections
the poet who wishes to establish a distance
the poet who shares your pillow and toothbrush
any mention of objective criticism
brought laughter at the supper table
LikeLike
she told that everything was cool
then she listed her top ten peeves
pet hates
some wouldn’t translate
she had to draw pictures to full explain
– sometimes she said
words just aren’t enough
we need symbols and signs
– a manual of feelings
the cosmonaut dropped his spanner and spent an eternity looking for it
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everything was lost in translation
meaning dissolved
my currency became worthless trinkets of paper and metal
that in 40years will be laughable
– I informed her of my intentions –
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quote from the pool hall:
“truth goes in one end of the bull
and comes out the other”
—————————————–
the unpleasant smell of truth
amoral, laughing clowns
at the supper table
———————-
school with its foibles and shortcomings
unsuccessful efforts to educate
deceptive, misguided instructors
the daily discrepancy between reality
and the perception of reality
detectives at lunch break
asking about divergences
demanding answers to impossible questions
displaying naked photos from your gym class
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SHE was fond of reducing humans
to the level of Hollywood caricatures
I remember that there was one large black circle
when asked what that represented
SHE replied, “that’s the entrance to the coal mine”
written under the image: Malcolm X
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your intentions became ever-widening circles
into perpetual time and space
the shoes that offer greater intensity
and greater accuracy
cost as much as a small automobile
the concept of being true to life
illustrated on the side of the shoe box
shoes that serve as vehicles
to get one through the day
no need to remain in the slow lane
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they confiscated my passport
and said I didn’t look like the photo in there –
there was a stamp from when I visited a different time zone
where the currency was multicoloured and the leader had a moustache
– I took the expensive drugs
– I took the expensive drugs
– I saw the angels fly away
they looked like birds
the looked the letter M in the distance and the canopy of blue sky
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the defeated eyes of the straw men
black sockets and buried in what they wear – I saw 7 yesterday
I saw 4 today –
rich folk look on from their windows
rich folks can afford the good stuff –
inside their mausoleum they had wifi
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the straw men made their own drugs from stuff left in bottles found under the sink
– some alcohol
– some chemicals from prostate pills some chemicals from here and there
– they washed it down rainwater and dog tears
it got stuck in the throat like glue on paper
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the fatherless angel
saw no need to complete the questionnaire
LikeLike
I tried to talk to a dead relative through the old fashioned telephone but I kept getting cross wires
– a call to a pizza place
– a business specialising in cleaning statues of war generals
– the relative I later realised wasn’t even dead
just a clerical error
it’s always just a clerical error
a misplaced 0
an upside down t
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the life of the cosmonaut
a riddle that could only be read
in the dark with a flashlight
there was a structural thread
the comments were NOT fragmentary
———————————————-
each poet had a unique store-front personality
joined hands through open windows
naked photos under the pillows
unprincipled thoughts
far from realistic
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they said that it was rape
but it didn’t feel like rape
the path went directly
to an opened mouth
it was far too dark
a stack of words
unadorned
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TALKING TO DEPARTED RELATIVES
dead people rapidly lose the images of life
the tiny particles just float away
the identity of loved ones vanish
a thousand promises
to reveal all that can be
human being mysteries
questions with multiple answers
open palms begging
handshakes through windows
waving at angels and being ignored
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confusing flashbacks
playing young to fool death
buying dialogue in front of a vacant storefront
buying cut-up words and altered prose
———————————————–
dating a gospel singer
with an odd nose
doing what lovers do
I found it easy to orgasm
if I thought about her nose being uncircumcised
and in the heat of the moment
its slick pink head
would pop out
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skin and a body that never cast a shadow – intimidated by the gang on the corner
intimidated by the man in the high house –
the street lights all went off at the same time
– in the prison they painted the cells pink to calm the criminals down
no one is calm in dark town
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those tight shoes that made your toes throb
– cheap shoes
– really thin soles
– your blunt knife
the neighbourhood dogs could sense illness in others
possible tumours the size of tennis balls
– small lesions in the skin
the poet changed his diet
LikeLike
school was full of shortcomings but the best days of your life they say
– the taste of sweat on your top lip – the time when days were longer – new bag with unused pencils – that time when everyone smelt fresh
– thin lines between your reality
and others perception of your reality –
history on chalk boards*
detectives bought in their own lunches DAILY
*my kids tell me it’s all on computers these days
WHAT IS CHALK?
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little red Malcolm x
change your name
change your views
full circle travelled
around the periphery
by any means necessary
standing at the window
gun in one hand
dick in the other
certain photos over exposed and consigned to history
LikeLike
your brother kept all his misgivings in a shoe box
– no one can measure anything with 100% accuracy – especially emotions
my brother told me things I didn’t believe – he showed me pictures of cosmonauts under the sea –
poor peoples feet are vehicles
tyre shoes
lace petrol
slow lane movement
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the store front personality had spider webs in the corner and a CLOSED sign –
the lizard king of the campus
the lizard king in the office
delusions of grandeur measured from a distance
measured in tiny increments of dark space
undisciplined poet just never knew when to stop
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THE POET WEARING THIN UNDERWEAR
on icy nights
sleeping next to a long dead friend
disordered restless sleep—a ghastly chatter
sexual gratification—what a joke
not even a moistening
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you called your grade school report card
your passport
a strong A+ in anatomy
a busy lad registering details of yourself
like Adam— you naming parts
repeating some from the pool hall
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soft-tickling WIFI on the genitals
mysterious contours
that other men lacked
scars from religious fanaticism
or monkey business
———–the appetite of a young man (volume 1)
——————————————
——————————————
nightly dusting from a labyrinth of factories
people with ambiguities loved the Leviathan
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dead relatives change from day to night
helpless things shy from a mother’s tongue
all they want to know is their age
WHY CAN’T THEY STAND IN SANITY ?
diapers laced with irony
vulgar and offensive matter
from the secret eye
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talking to dead relatives
he held the phone of black ivory
the coil of leads
a snake near his ear
he thought he heard elephants down the line
a savannah appeared
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talking to dead relatives
he held the phone of black ivory
the coil of leads
a snake near his ear
he thought he heard elephants down the line
– the smallest particles make the biggest things –
all those handshakes
all those dirty hands
unwashed after the dismissal
funeral soil under nails
he stood like a crucifix
a shadow was cast
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on the day of rest
the gospel singer held a collection plate out
– penny for your thoughts?
—–in the heat of the moment I said the stupidest things
I mentioned her nose looked like a bee sting
after the vasectomy he could only ejaculate dust
–
how can you have a flashback to something that never happened?
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9 out of 10 flashbacks
occur from events
witnessed on the television
when one sees oceans of people
just think how many of them
was thrown from a speeding car
when they were infants
————————-
phrases from the honeymoon motel
designed to flatter and appease
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there is still a considerable undertow
of doubt
about the way in which the husband
chose to use his prodigious strength
****SHE got all jammed up with dick-cheese
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the poet was wearing a tin helmet
he slept next to a knife
all those nights of tossing & turning and those times when the dreams just ended
–
–
– a Rolodex of ideas
and encyclopaedia of maps
pictures of astronauts
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all day in class looking at atlases
chewing gum stuck under the table
just hard rubber now
–
a fake note making an excuse
experts will study the signature
authenticity demanded
too many lost nights at the pool hall
blue chalk dust
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sleeping with a sharp knife
when you were young
but these days
the blade is blunt
your sheets so dirty
that they can only be described
in a foreign language
****the local knife-grinder invents sexual escapades
involving your mother
——————————————————————
SPARKLES FALLING FROM THE WOMB
when SHE bends over
tiny showers of gold
amaze everyone
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naked photos from behind the school
a circle of friends
it was a NO-assistance circle
touching others was forbidden
outdoor masturbation
birds would fly by and gawk
(what if birds had dongs ?)
LikeLike
when SHE sucked my toes
it was like SHE was trying to dislodge the nails
“hide your lunch box and thermos boys”
SHE got her start by tooth-sucking
eye-rolling and tooth-sucking
for $5 I got the around-the-world
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bogeymen dressed as detectives
birds too lazy to fly north
Bob Dylan coloring eggs for himself
Easter took his fears of sodomy
and dashed them on the rocks of Maine
yes, the mere word sodomy struck dread in his heart
the thought that after being violated
demons would cram flowers
up his behind
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buxom daughters from next door
in the driveway with romantic boys
excruciating exploration under elastic
detectives took lengthy notes
and collected jism jettisoned
————————————
————————————
poetry about full-blown loads
of multiple personalities
tiny encapsulated personalities
with no fingers at all
LikeLike
dick Cheese exiting all holes
– nose
– ears
– those holes ‘downstairs’
a fortune to declutter
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what have eggs got to do with Jesus?
what have rabbits and bunnies got to do with eggs?
confusion over meaning
cloudy history of the eastern sea board
– Bob Dylan insisted everyone call him Robert
unplugged sodomy dashed on the rocks
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counting up to a hundred thousand with no fingers
the buxom daughters offered their assistance
slender fingers with painted nails a shade of embarrassed red
– watered down poems to fool the detectives
no fingers
can’t make a fist
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the meat and potatoes of Jesus
when he used the communal showers
he was just a man but with a difference
embellishment serves to make a better man
forgo the common man for the Son of God
deny the flesh…..sidestep reckless abandon
—————————————————-
crazy people who puff on a joint but fail to inhale
the myriad interruptions of an engrossing life
SCARS unaccounted-for
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STUCK ON A BROKEN ELEVATOR
Valentine’s Day turned into Easter
feeling slender in pants
that no longer stay on
we talked about Switzerland night and day
some people complained at first
conversation seemed energy draining
but I just couldn’t shut up
“I love Switzerland more than any creature on earth”
one old lady said that she wanted a better suite
in a better hotel and we all said “amen”
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in a school in Kentucky they made models of Jesus
from potatoes and meat
Jesus in dungarees
lettuce hair
a cross of asparagus
they mounted it outside like a scarecrow and the mangy dogs
chewed off the face of Jesus
meaty
face
joints inhaled and kept down
the cosmonaut blues
1,000,000 miles from home
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the broken elevator meant Easter overtime for the Otis men – tools clanking in their belts
– stuck in the elevator with chocolate eggs that melted
– Swiss eggs
– Jesus had never heard of Switzerland, had never spend a night in a hotel washing his hair with free shampoo
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STUCK ON A BROKEN ELEVATOR
I found it difficult to read or write
so what is a little crime ?
I liked that new music
sometimes I would smoke things
I found on the floor of the Apollo Theater
get a little crazy and go Judeo-Christian
I say, “why you praising that Lord
when he done stuck you in Dark Town ?”
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black Christian faith
white Christian faith
——where is the practice ?
unswerving devils trying to run you down
top secret information on the way to church
white-skinned devils with huge ears listening
CIA with fleas that can focus on moon pebbles
****they can’t photograph the healing blood of Christ
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I saw Medgar Evers today
lots of talk about being washed clean
that white is white and white is where it is at
but the pagan knees stand tall and strong
having had no adequate protection
no responsible parenting
no proper schooling
born out of wedlock
soda pop and frosted flakes
goldfish food straight from the tube
—————understanding the dilemma
they try to hide images of the Artic Circle
they try to erase certain words from recognized languages
****people who steal the truth from history—BANG BANG
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“…and he rose from the dead
give him your fucking eggs…”
–
–
–
the myth of the resurrection
the first case of FAKE NEWS –
I smoked leftovers from yesterday
sunk into revere
deep feelings for the cosmonauts
stuck in tin cans
looking for the black star
– ticker tape welcomes – and when all the veterans returned they were
deposited in dark town and forgotten
like unwanted Christmas gifts that are stored in the attic
–
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the believe in faith
the church goers see no irony in disabled parking spaces out front of the church
– these things are sent to test ya
– the CIA microbes
molecular surveillance
– the blood of Christ
diluted ketchup with cold fries
–
–
– I am listening to a song about Rasputin –
LikeLike
they say that it was out of respect
or some horse crap
that no body said nothing
when Evel Knievel
sat down
his tongue stuck out
——————–
one thing about Evel Knievel
he was long-suffering
LikeLike
I WOULD SEE EVEL KNIEVEL SITTING ON HIS MOTORCYCLE
IN THE DRIVING RAIN
heavy rain and he would be out there changing a spark plug
often during torrential rain he would take a shower in the back yard
funny to see someone so famous being comfortable nude
I wasn’t really interested in his penis
but if one looked close enough
I’m sure there was a scar or two
—————————————
famous Evel Knievel quote,
“keep the bonfire burning baby,
Daddy’s gonna be home tonight”
LikeLike
conversational poetry
boys playing rumpus-room with words
six pseudonyms or was it nine ?
the Sunday Post claimed signs of development
less derivative with more buns and butts
biographical sodomy with positive grip
Cain from the Bible would stop by
and polish his knob
free of anxiety
the sight of a healthy young man
could restore the stability
of the near-dead
curious readers search the library shelves
for water that is more wet
( writers with better poems do not exist )
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people kept their mouths shut when Evil was around
– a fearful expression under the helmet
– the Jerry Lee of motorbikes
– probably carried a flick knife in his leather boots
built a rocket and fired himself at the moon
Jesus told him it would take more then jumping buses for him to get into heaven
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—-pathos: American Superman changing a spark plug in torrential rain
– in the film of his life
there would be a John Carpenter score, some violins
mood musician spark plug close up
– a body double for the nude scenes**
the scars were superficial
**it was contractual
LikeLike
a crazy neighbor of Emily Dickinson
is waiting to intercept any poetry
not locked up
ready to
tamper and muck up
more than ready to
throw out the bad bits
“simple paring-down”
——————-
lonesome shelves at the library
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AMBIGUITY IN THE SHADOWS
married woman guilty of slanderous dreams
romance with a minimum of toe-stubbing
after a vulgar union
sexual poseur
pulled out
brown
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A MINIMUM OF TOE-STUBBING
country boy suffer the pain
a dungeon for years and days
secrets pulled out with a chain and a tractor
the dentist pulling till he reached zero
suffering no profit from the mirror
sexuality comes and goes
buckle under
****theme songs fade into poverty
the truck knows the way home
it sleeps beside a trash heap
hero-musicians were on the radio
now they are silent
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it is impossible for the fatherless angel
to achieve a genuine sense of self
humanizing angels so they can reproduce
“playing God”
the black chorus was loud this morning
I saw many things upon the faces
here in Dark Town—pathologies galore
they say that suffering has redemptive possibilities
a truckload of agony for next to nothing
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the shadows cause confusion
a tree
a branch
a gand of many armed men with KNIVES
shadows and imagination
ambiguity everywhere
ambiguity
not born in the right body
not born in the right year
resurrected for the 14th time
a change of clothes
vulgar brown
on the tip
when i looked down
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A minimum of toe-stubbing
the rough and tumble of simple reality
eat, sleep, drink, bathroom, media
no Castalian wine
the nice girls live closer to the church
my neighborhood is full of disordered lives
****private and public thrashing
LikeLike
ONE RULE TO LIVE BY:
NO MATTER WHO YOU ARE
OR WHO YOU ARE GOING TO BED
WITH FOR THE FIRST TIME
ASK THEM
YOU GOT IMAGINATION
OR YOU GOT NO-IMAGINATION ?
LikeLike
you’re making love 90mph
and suddenly a black chorus
comes marching in
singing “sweet Jesus”
———-what next a portable guillotine?
memories of the straitjacket and the padded cell
varicose veins in her woman parts
like licking a salamander
tell me again, the pros and cons
LikeLiked by 1 person
SHE said, “Baby, talk about some significant points on a compass”
Steven Spielberg at the gas station like a statue
children were running around in all directions
many of them looked thin, undernourished
they were Yahoos
****Steven was combining thoughts of conveyor-belts and female
privates in his mind
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thinking poetic thoughts about cocktail waitresses
semiliterate standing but not in bed
one said, “I may be slow with the verbs
but I know how to swallow”
this caused an uproar
———————–
squalor and gore
men with serious skunk butt
———————–
small sounds of appreciation
the raw edges of even ordinary sex
LikeLike
somewhere someone
was reading Robert Frost
the sound of angry shoes
circling loafers
the conduct of footwear
scatter, don’t look back
LikeLike
the loneliness of the poet
the windows are boarded
double locks on the door
self-deception
is a constant mud
LikeLike
cordoned off land around the church
door policy dictates entry
bouncers in black
– you must recite a psalm and crawl through the eye of a needle
on a camels back
– a ludicrous spectacle
on Sunday morn
– give the money to the poor
Nike Air Jesus
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Jesus is sweet
I tasted him so I know
a sugary buzz
a child’s headache
the thriving vein
the throbbing gristle
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in the magnetic town everyone was lost
quivering needles
all point south
truth north isnt true
it’s a place just beyond yonder
past the city limits of dark town
– just follow the sound of jazz
the smell of fried chicken
the car horn
life is all in 3D and surround sound
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in complete secrecy
he told me that his wife
was a frisky two-seater convertible
I didn’t ask questions
anybody who can dust off his pants
and start a forest fire
shouldn’t be asked personal questions
I heard him cuss one time
he called a flight attendant at LaGuardia
a “black-mouth shit-rag”
I was shocked
most of the guys at the pool hall
say things like that but not in the outside world
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365 liquor stores in Dark Town
one for each day of the year
countless bus stops
buses come and go
sometimes they never come
many are obsolete and have holes in the floor
confused passengers ask about conductors
drunks drop their change on the floor
some people pay some don’t
dirty people sit in the back
Saturday night urine still fresh
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with all the modern apps
children can watch color television on the city bus
Aeroflot tablets pick up live feed from outer space
simple days of the newspaper and a flask are gone
people in general are too lazy for obsceneness or wickedness
kissing is still popular but not romantic kissing
kissing involves anger and revulsion
people call one another despicable names
and then kiss, smearing themselves with fecal matter
inaudible questions, “what have you been eating ?”
****private life in public with no censorious presence
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go to the men’s room at church
and there is fresh sperm on the mirror
and you ask yourself,
“who was the rat bastard guilty of that ?”
—————no censorious presence——
before I can leave
a hairdresser’s triumph comes in
instantly notices the jism
says, “couldn’t wait, lover boy ?”
this dissolved into show-and-tell
he had astonishingly beautiful small breasts
a celebrated cocksman with a fancy speedometer
at 90mph things began to vibrate dangerously
I could no longer focus on his perfect teeth
a man of my age could go no faster
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ANECDOTES AT GREAT LENGTH
like trying to drive nails in iron
was it the hammers
soaked ?
full choir and organ thundering
around that silly tree
gorilla boy
and gorilla girl
going at it
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homosexual romance in prison
was that what the bus driver was thinking about ?
an older lady sitting next to me
said that it was customary to apologize
for things I hadn’t done
I replied, “I’m sorry that I fondled
your genitals. I should have stopped
at the embrace and kiss”
rudimentary horseplay on the city bus
suggestive and amorous bumps in the road
trying to disguise the paroxysm of an orgasm
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then I stood up
and I gave the biggest apology
of my life
“I am sorry
that I cannot produce a flashlight
strong enough to highlight
my lowlife feelings and conduct”
****the lucky people get furloughed
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————SUPPURATING POETS STAY AWAY————
horseplay at the waiting room of the mental health doctor
for $23 dollars one gets 30 minutes
I enjoy torturing the receptionist
with little tidbits from her adolescence
her perpetual vulva chafe
her deficient size anal opening
painful logs of narcissism
removal with rubber glove fingers
failures at removal
double vision
on the bus ride home
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after 50, life just becomes tourism
neighbors who try to park their cars
in garages full of history
shout at one another
venomous words
alcoholism grows everywhere like weeds
intestinal pain visible on the commode seat
the maid complains so you fire her
she was an imaginary girl anyway
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traffic lights at a busy intersection
3 colors in her eyes
presented with situations
for which SHE was poorly prepared
****scythed a field of memories to locate a misplaced thought
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traffic lights at a busy intersection
3 colors in her eyes
all kinds of tranquillizers
SHE said that no pill could harness her
not even those from the billiard hall
————————————–
SHE said that in the past
sex was a Ferris wheel
now it was just a scooter
with a low back tire
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SHE said that any claim to innocence
was an admission to lechery
erotic discomfort in a tweed jumper
****strong seismographic fluctuations
——————————————
the telephone always rings
during naked gymnastics
anonymous callers
trying to zip up the situation
somersaults before sodomy
longings for something distasteful
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CRIMINALS TRYING TO LOAD A STOLEN PIANO
ONTO A CITY BUS
that’s the definition of the word, “employment”
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feeling giddy about exposing offensive poetry
they lock men up and throw away the keys
men who masturbate thinking about their fathers
(growing up in a marionette theatre)
gifts given during childhood
the hard external coating
that protects one from remembering
(+) think about what could have been under the Christmas tree
(+) think about what could have happened at those birthday parties
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the constraints of a living room childhood
leaking hormones watching the tube
a flash goes off inside your mind
and you go to the bathroom
and yank off
sometimes with a sex goddess
sometimes with the cranky librarian
almost everything is colored in flesh tones
sexual partners—what will they be like ?
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squalor and gore at the corner store where she sucked in a lolly
all sticky lips
that glistened under bright light
all poetic thoughts became tainted
but I still wrote it down
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second doubts at your first thought push it away
suppress
the double locked door
to much baggage with just words for comfort
knee deep in molasses
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his wife needed work under the hood –
greasy fingered mechanic left fingerprints – I wanted to ask questions but I was scared
– he had muscles
– he looked like a 10ft basketball man
– and at that moment I seemed to shrink
I got smaller
– some people self censor
others are comfortable screaming BLACK MOUTH
SHIT RAG
at anyone
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Flintstone buses wheee passenger have to peddle
– sweaty individuals like sardines
– yesterday’s news is on the floor which moves
underneath
– conductors just want to be drivers
– the drunks at the back BUT EVERYONE NEEDS A PLACE TO SLEEP
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one app allowed the kids to go back in time
another one read their mind
– they downloaded feelings for 0.25c
when we first kissed
it was electric and wet
now it’s like kissing a dry tyre
(remember days gone by
when kids practiced by kissing their arms
those slurping sounds
red marks
abrasions)
but I guess there’s an app for that
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at the church all the gentlemen were backed up
just waiting for the opportunity to unload – but they knew they had to wait for the prayers to finish
– into the confessional
– jism bookmarked psalm pages
– perfect teeth like Austrian mountains
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people don’t like public transport because it puts strangers next to each other –
brushing shoulders
some static
– an accidental touch & some innocent arousal (you
know you’ll never see her again)
– WHAT I DO WITH MY GENITALS IS MY BUSINESS –
(the other passengers couldn’t help but be embarrassed
they had to look away)
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FEELING GIDDY ABOUT EXPOSING OFFENSIVE POETRY
they say prayers but what ever hides under the blanket
remains spastic
constantly told that I am brutal and cruel
was it me who stole all the money ?
painting the nights white
expensive socks
undergarments signed by Mick Jagger
was it me who tried to poke Emily Dickinson ?
what a joke
all those prayers
something is under the blanket tonight
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I told Death to go paddle his ass across the river
(the mother of Death drank herself to Hell)
life everlasting—–the fodder of Robert Frost
deadwood with no leaves
Death steals your love
holding loneliness
just raw materials
Death was at my home in Florida
Death pulled my love from my arms
no excitement—no intelligence
they say that church walls listen
but that is a lie
****senior citizens prone to misunderstanding
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——poetry is an inward color that needs to be drawn out
a 1000 venomous snakes in a circle around Robert Frost
no one could save him—the bites were beyond painful
the Father of Offensive Poetry down from the altar
like a bag of rags on the ground
hidden in the shadows of deadwood
stick figure children singing,
“Robert Frost is dead”
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you lived your entire childhood
and never once thought
somersaults before sodomy
yet, at the police station
hundreds of reports
of sodomy after somersaults
photographs of banged bums
not one single “IT WAS GLORIOUS”
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what better pleasure than smoking a stolen cigarette ?
———————-from the caveman circle
a groin inherited from a gorilla predecessor
somebody in gorilla speaks the Gospel
I thank God for the gasoline and the appliances
I thank God for my vulgar sweetheart
jazzy organ music and grunts from the priest
what would intelligent children think ?
stupid adults and their games
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(the sound of trumpets)
daydreams about young healthy studs
dressed in the uniforms
of the Canadian Northwest Mounted Police
no demands above sexual hunger and thirst
————————————————
————————————————-
the coffee counter girl
and a cycle of denial and neglect
you know we never kiss
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———-DEATH BY VIPER——————–
the sudden loss of Robert Frost
indescribable at best
millions of readers
a poet of the generations
deadwood from father to son
I told Death to paddle his ass
across the river
————-
————-
do not think that he was a happy poet
dedicated to descriptions
of the seasons
millions of readers
each one a stranger
not a single hand to hold
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———–careful, Baby Bird———————
sinners are growing horns on their toes
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——-(100%) poets find no consolation in knowing
Emily Dickinson died a virgin———-
————————————————————–
————————————————————–
coffee counter girl saw your name on a police blotter
she said, “he seeks in other men what he never found in his father”
nearly bankrupt from purchasing pills
a splendid summer day
and a big bag of meth
saying naughty words
in private
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a nomad society
what the hell does that mean ?
coffee counter girl told me to go mow my lawn
the shame of being a white man
pushing a lawnmower in public
people drive by and frown
a white man down
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don’t try to play that Baroque crap
near the Billiard Hall
hide your Martini when you drive by
it’s not the place, it’s the spacing
a long row of letters
where does one stop ?
where does one start ?
coffee counter girl full of praise
alcohol and tobacco
weed and meth
expensive socks
a sock-of-the-month club for movie stars
a geometric groin that promises happiness
as Robert Frost would report, “a touch of greenness”
YES, somewhere in the jungle of rot and deadwood
a touch of greenness
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sopranos outside
throwing notes at the window
mad as hell
because children in the neighborhood
are lacking rudimentary care
thin, pale—the young ones are exhibitionists
coffee counter girl draws the draperies
“God made that membrane for a reason”
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not a single person discusses
the price of fried chicken
in Dark Town
music has replaced the voices
from the television set
a thick wilderness of weeds
cover old footholds
no one remembers the path
———————————–
no one remembers the wedding reception
the 12-gauge double-barrel honeymoon
kissed and caressed without common sense
places someday he would return
places someday he would replace
———————————–
at the police station
when the detective points
at the photograph of the dead wife
he calls her body a carcass
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the coins were made from bogus metal
plastic coins would have had more value
they stole that stupid money
and now it is counterfeit
hasty optimism gone wrong—gone comical
I wasn’t laughing
the long gradual climb
(thank God I didn’t need sex)
———————————-
———————————-
when we passed through a grove of maples
I saw Robert Frost waiting for the leaves to change
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readers do not ignore the poetry
of the cash register
FEED THE DEVIL
for a few dollars
they wanted me to review my intimacies
“just think of the pleasure they will bring”
but all my pleasures are lethal
behind me a string of graves
tourists and prostitutes wave
am I famous ?
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tap water and dry toast
folding chairs
the nostalgia jar lid missing
sleeping with the blade of a guillotine
under my pillow
afraid to go outside
cancer is everywhere
( A P R I L 2 0 1 7 )
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AT THE POOL HALL
they talk about one-night stands
one-hour stands
one-climax
and go home
———–
trying not to think about
naked butts sitting on folding chairs
somebody wiped on my towel
was it a bone or a hole ?
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lingering cooked cabbage
religion in a church basement
want me to draw you a picture ?
Satan talking with his genitals
don’t be dumb
folding chairs with stains
Momma thought it was chewing tobacco juice
Boy Scout Sodomy —-uncomfortable riding home
the front seat thought maybe I had worms
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start out strong in the morning
puke the first bottle
most of the second
idiots waiting for traffic lights
I call for a pizza with olives
told them to send someone
(+) interested in cash
(+) rated X
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if you aren’t interested in sex
at least sweep up some of the dead bugs
help with the switch from the Epistle
snort some crank
cover up your circle
coffee counter girl
you tell me the ground rules
and I laugh
money makes men strong
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——A GENTLEMAN FROM THE BANK CALLED TODAY
he would like me to return the inward colors that I borrowed
I showed him some photos of a thousand venomous snakes
he went away—I think he was afraid
——————————————
it’s all about the golden-gloves, baby bird
lovemaking with the roadside noise
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SHE said that her hair was golden but it was yellow
that damn kid next door with that toy drum
my head was hurting like Michael Jackson
on the commode seat with nothing to donate
—————————-
earlier I told him,
“bend and break the spine of an oak”
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what would happen if one opened a window
and their adolescence was bathed
with bright sunlight ?
not a single written message from father
all those years, fatherless
of course, I must be a coward
an old man hiding in cowardice
(unhappiness outside Dark Town)
skeletons of dogs on the road
cover the eyes of the little ones
BUT MAKE MICHAEL LOOK
sensitivity cripples the male
cut, cut, cut again
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THEY WARN TOURISTS
NOT TO RIDE ELEVATORS
IN KENTUCKY
the strong scent of deer
horns in the open top
I heard the deer crying like a baby
ignited another cigarette
not safe to go outside
———————–
devils sleep on moist insides
having thrown tiny dog skeletons
on the highway
every 10 feet
another squalid motel
one can buy meth at the front desk
dial “0” to get another gram
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a bulletproof jockstrap
haunts the mind
irregular genitals
dog knob pink
smoking the glass pipe
stuff that kills sensitivity dead
no longer useful as a man
black star poet
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that uncomfortable itch
red raw rash
the little vibrations while sitting at the back of the bus
-the driver tried to charge extra
– the driver is a pimp
– the mental health doctor takes his notes home to show his friends
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intestinal rumblings
blood in the stool
– the god damn bladder just won’t stop
– the small trickle
restless sleep : dreams, nightmares the constant need to pee
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the scooter was so low
her bum dragged on the ground
– scratches turning to scars
– three pills the colours of traffic lights
– she always went on green
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my imagination was stalled at a red light
– all new ideas left in the waiting room – surrounded by aches and pains and secrets ailments
– do you really want to tell the Dr the truth?
your thoughts drifted back to more elastic days
somersaults & backflips
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to yank off and release the hormones
how many hours spent in the darkened room with thoughts of Farah Fawcett and Bo Derek?
– memories that are BRIGHT
-memories you want to share with the coffee counter girl
but you wait till the coffee goes cold and you leave the room
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hours spent in a dark room
with a chair and a whip
trying to train a wild lion
a background soundtrack
of Robert Frost confessing
that not only had he
sucked his own tongue
in puberty driven madness
but also that of his sister
and one of her friends
****easy to make lamps burn at night
difficult to deal with human sexuality
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hours spent in a dark room
not a single thought
of a movie star
(+) sentimental cleanliness
gratification free of germs
extra money can purchase discretion
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—–(20 minutes naked)—–
SHE unbuckled your trousers
thank God that you were elastic
and happy with your career in lechery
SHE shit the bed and all you did was laugh
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the doctor seems deeply saddened
when I refuse to shake his hand
my guilt of waywardness
is extremely close to the surface
my tiny part in life’s riches
to be exacerbated
(+) aberrations
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with only a homemade compass
science offered little to exploit
I had spiritual responsibilities
you wanted to have dialogue
with blonde movie stars
with two hands
YOU HAD OPPORTUNITIES
(+) your mother knew
about your secret stash of paper towels
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senior citizens have memories that play tricks in them
long conversations with invisible friends
mistaking knifes for fingers
death is not a fashionable destination with a lovely view
– we started off as raw material
– we started off as material
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each word drawn out like poison from the wound –
foot soldiers on the front line
some are firing blanks
others are shell shocked from what they’ve read
-seen it
-but not everyone can forget
a need to confess
a need to share the burden
and even if he’s dead
they’ll be another one
poets likes buses
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the pleasure of theft played out in a black and white French film
– from caveman to the White House, backroad billiard rooms to monks doused in gasoline
– they all thanked God for this and that not really knowing what the gorilla grunts meant
– life really is just guess work
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I have dug a hole
so deep
I’ll need a trustworthy friend to bury me and keep the location a secret
give my trumpet to charity
fill my ears with soil and sand
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death paddled his ass up river
he came by canoe
run ashore and observed by fish
the ticking hand of his watch
– he granted permission to the idiot savant
he enabled the fortune teller
———
someone had the idea to drop boxes of poetry into war zones and famine towns
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tourists are warned to stay clear of Paris, France
city-wide loneliness beyond overpowering
residents dying from stress and neglect
the taste of loneliness put into words
what human can master that feat ?
poets leaping from tall buildings
their pockets full of scribbles
many missing lips
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20 years without anyone
mentioning the amount of misunderstanding
involved with pricing fried chicken
Robert Frost was on the evening news
spreading fertilizer again
the smell seems to correct
the measure of his thoughts
——————–
——————–
unlimited separation
move to Paris
and escape marital unhappiness
the savagery of loneliness
only a strong man can endure
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ornithologists with binoculars
hiding in bushes
taking notes
ALWAYS TAKING NOTES
– some sketching the horned toe
– others just looking
– their sinister nature
always looking
the ornithologists looking for the worm
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those days of meth
are part of history – small burns on fingertips
– real father left a father shaped hole
– substitute father waiting on the touchlines (his notebook contained his game plan)
GET ME ON THE PITCH COACH
GET ME ON THE PITCH AND I’LL SHOW YOU WHAT I CAN DO
splendid summer day were you were sunglasses all day long
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white sociologists slumming it in dark town*
looking for authenticity
seeking a truth only found in numbers and poetry
cutting ties with their privilege
drinking coffee 24hrs a days
immersed & undercover
*a search party was sent to bring ’em back**
** they were found in the pool hall
covered in chalk
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” a touch of greenness around the gills” – in black pen in your file
“He had a touch of greenness “, your doctor said,” around the gills”
– he wondered if you were a fish?
– a mouth in the shape of O
all the letter lined up until the heavy ones fell over
toppled under the weight of expectations WOULD THE LETTER BE USED CORRECTLY OR WOULD IT GO TO WASTE
non refundable at the library
yearly subscriptions to the sock of the month club came with a catalogue which she only read to look at the ankles
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———-NUT SAC POETRY———-
observation without restraint
constantly taking notes
years of note taking
committed to employment
each minute of each day
an exceptional performance
you are you
****poets who fear poems where characters suffocate
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tiny scrapes with beads of blood
psychoanalytical scabs
constantly scratching
questioning myself
guilt without relief
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how many hours after the honeymoon
did impatience arrive ?
ceremonies of extreme boredom
and simple boredom
one morning spent
tossing furniture out into the front swale
I tried to conquer the forces
but I returned to Oberammergau
expecting to be Christ
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fake coins devalued the economy
coins that melted in the heat
bent in your pocket
in hundred years the future will find
it funny we used metal and paper
to exchange for goods and feelings and mortar
and food
micro-chipped future kids
sexless and pale
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(APRIL 2017)
things slowly unscramble
crumble
the continent shifts
we are oblivious to the slight movements
of crumbled wet bed sheets
the cheque the bank sent me disintegrate d
April was everywhere
a hair between teeth
May will be a razor blade
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pool hall revere the boasts of idle men a desire not to die a virgin
failed attempts
53 times
unable to perform
unable to operate
the constant image of the black Converse trainer in the dead leg of Kurt Cobain just put him off
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death metal sing-a-longs
meat hook sodomy
burning Norwegian church
sitting on a folding chair waiting for the sun to fall in your head
at work a constant need to put your hand in your pocket and adjust yourself
front pocket billiards
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someone coughed thousands of miles away
perhaps in the Netherlands
and the tropics of her groin
went into total lockdown
her sexual address
lost all lovingness
warmth
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Boy Scout sodomy
acrobatics inside the tent
grueling and unremittent pain
an introduction to penitentiary life ?
the miracle of pedaling pain into pleasure
a gallon of boiling jism through a penile tube
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total lock down
nothing in
nothing out vacuum sealed
a total lose of interest
arosual removed
bottled
and jarred
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the Boy Scout association of america
voted against the sodomy badge
something to do with portraying them
in a bad light
people just got on with whittling wood
camping near bears and worshipping jesus
LikeLiked by 1 person
ALONE ON AN ELEVATOR
thinking of weird word combinations
from my youth
the prostitutes in our small town
are from somewhere else
it is easy to see the suffocation
in their facial features
the thrusting of intercourse
the splendor of release
winning at sex
poetry about cash money
not fallen leaves
or rainbows
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do readers of astonishing talent
ever let their guard down ?
encounter words
that reveal themselves ?
an inner life full of desperation
complete isolation
squeezed in a small space
with a 1000 people
everyone wearing undergarments
everyone coated with loneliness
(adults drinking loneliness out of alcohol bottles)
****Noah once asked God to lessen his loneliness
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———–WHITTLING WOOD—————-
one of the first indications of civilization
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daydreaming about digging a tunnel
with a stolen spoon
the neighbor’s poodle
on an electric rotisserie
cheap candy coated with romance
later they float in the commode
the slender film of love gone
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a paper bag of leftovers
what price do they request
for fried chicken ?
the smell of chicken fat lingers
stubborn fried chicken in poetic terms
the throes of corduroy passion
the sound of plump thighs
the smell of bay rum
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pizza the size of satellites that scan the sky for alien noise
– a noise unheard
– aliens on mute
– aliens of standby
money is only with the value we place on it
beauty is in the eye of the beholder
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I was interested in sex as a young man – constant thoughts
never more then a few seconds from my mind –
I’ve resigned to a future of sexless days
just looking
theory not practise
money makes men strong for a short while
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the bank man advised me my cheque had disintegrated
he wanted all the pieces to be given back
I collected them and posted them in an envelope I’d received a Christmas card in
– all the snakes continued to slither outside my door
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lovers, real or imaginary
are lined up out front
wanting me to respond
to their slings of regret
“God rest you merry folk”
ye who once yielded
permit me my solitude
I am no longer suffocated
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innocent lusts
Boy Scouts wrestling
coated with suntan lotion
roast beef farts in the tent
a piece of tail at such an age
****sodomy without a dictionary
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golden hair looked the colour of dehydrated urine
– like the yellow of a lacklustre sun
– split ends
– like the straw inside the belly of the scarecrow on the far reaches of the field
– the boy with the drum
banging it with bones
don’t get me started in Michael Jackons
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I saw her head then I didn’t
I saw her head then I didn’t
on a pogo stick outside my window
– a perfumed scent
– the her head vanished again
below my eye line
the rust of a once chrome bumper
the carcass of the Cadillac
a discarded cadaver
with the windows wound down
a Kentucky elevator was dirty slang
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dog knob pink
resembles a ladies favourite lip stick
– I’m off to powder my nose
– I’m off enlarge my ego
– the black star poet from these verdant shores
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spent time in a darkroom but I wasn’t developing pictures
– i was looking at the wall
a low hum as a soundtrack
that dull throb of my internal engine
the heart does beat
the dryness of my tongue
still going through puberty
I think
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in a dark room
developing pictures of datktown at night
you can’t see the shadows
you can only feel the edges
(Brad Pitt says he doesn’t consider himself an actor)
of course money buys discretion
money buries the bodies
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(a comedic scene:
unbuckled trousers around your ankles as you stumble around the hotel room
knocking over a lamp
spilling a cup)
when they see you at work early they always ask if you shit the bed
(there is humour in the darkroom)
LikeLike
weary in the waiting room
knowing the doctor would want to prod and poke
but he wouldn’t explain why
he never did
in France there are leaning to the left
the guilt
I left it at the door
my small part in their life’s
I just hope they will remember
broken veins on a broken noise
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the flesh under the nail
the dried blood that looked brown
the letters from the school to warn of infestation
YOU BURN YOUR CHILDs HAIR
THERE IS A PLAGUE
skinheaded kids looking like cue balls from
the pool hall
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dog knob pink
Dexedrine and caffeine
marathon sex
relatives lined up for lobotomy
cousins without borders
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Hollywood celebrities and Charlie Zero
various forms of mischief
snapping the fingers
the royal observation
of normal American speech
rhythm comes first
then the methamphetamine
————————-
————————-
————————-
oh, there may be death
and extreme emotional stress
a little morphine and tenderness
****when it comes to drugs—nothing mimeographed
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CZO at certain points of history
in the book depository in Dallas
– on the Oscar carpet
– CZO blindfolded and flipping through books to find words to stick against other words –
– it makes little sense
– it makes little sense
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