heavy load / small chin
mother as container a vessel with heavy load
entrance as an exit
I crawled through the forest
on all fours
it was a sight
bleeding knees like a priest in pray
(100 years ago I would’ve existed in black and white
– the war was still raging –
stomach full of a steady diet of fake meat)
problematic use of language in the land of the deaf
– a throng of people just pointing and grunting –
– regression
zombie shuffle dead man boogie
– kids with txt talk
I’ve been told there is an emoji for everything –
the future conversations:
•smiley faces
•gun
•closed fist
• flag of Cambodia
my beard left my face
it was hoovered up and added to a bag of detritus – I noticed I had the smallest chin —
THE SMALLEST CHIN
— I resemble me
little me
baby me —
a picture on a mantelpiece
I was Adam for a short period
I was Eve for a shorter period
I went home
I came back
Eatmorewords's Blog 
My favorite automatic poetry by you.
You always continue to bring something different and unusual. I love unusual writing and this is my favorite. 🙂
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Small talk at the barber shop
about PARENTHESIS POETRY
an attempt to bracket off the gender
the sisters from the brothers
(conveniently located intercourse)
the allure of the fruit
powerless to anything erotically charged
powerless to everything erotically charged
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poets dipping their dongs in ink
and signing their names
seemingly irrelevant
at the climax of intercourse
they would pull out
and make like Onan
coitus interruptus
the maid at the motel
called it “goblin goo”
(+) there was the sick boy snot
(+) there was handsome swimmers with curls
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readers disguised as vacant lots
a lifetime of rubbish and moral weeds for cover
the smart poet not wanting to gossip on yesterday
rather destroy the past—possibly a complete break
walking away from the strongholds
a measure of property proud
an intellectual-hero
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births and deaths and a theme of music not yet heard
relatives crowding the landscape afraid of the edges
when people ask—no one says a word
disappointments are everywhere
poverty with its tight collars
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it was supposed to be a birthday party
but the kid with the nail in his head
stole the show
———-
———-
a bunk house stench
and she said she just washed
her wadded bra
was a turnoff
she called me “bomb”
said it wasn’t difficult to know when I was done
purposeless words those were
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not a single young person could use
“roots in a parched ground” in a paragraph
—————————————-
a party of connections
recurrent words
rigidity—library standards
the real poet wants gypsy lips
insistent momentum
poetry that shows words mirroring perception
—————shows the mind at work
(+) chopped-up prose with spaces
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—————-A BIAS WAS MAKING THE ROUNDS———–
a bias involving notions of male primacy
a bias involving notions of male dominance
(+) male fantasy of female beauty
(+) females as objects and prizes
standing at the bear trap
tenderness was the local bait
—drugs equal deification—
—dope is free of forgiveness—
the girl at the coffee counter makes me hot with curiosity
all I could think was, “roots in a parched ground”
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the police put out the “invisible net” today
catching sex flies, hungry souls searching
very few specific details, mostly body parts
females willing to be unconscious
females with breasts the size of their eyes
golden hair—warm hands—chubby thighs
****anything that defies the prevailing puritanical morality
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(+) he who portrays himself as a devotee and supplicant
everything that had happened in the past
all those trips to the trap
to stare at the bait
to imagine the pleasure
frenzied thoughts at best
somewhere in America
people would pay to watch such dallying
the constant fear of getting caught
or almost caught with the bait in hand
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—————————-REPREHENSIBLE BEHAVIOR
figures in the shadows seem darker and thicker
as the complications continue to grow
characters seem to change faces
faces from bedtime stories
faces from lullabies
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****warning in the Honeymoon Journal: raw and untutored attention is common
confused and directionless—afraid of being immobilized
sex seemed grubby, vulgar, almost mechanical
thinking of Anglo-Saxon words for bodily functions
treasuring words dissociated from pool hall banter
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it wasn’t difficult to walk away
people putting junk in their system
claiming that one has to die
to start living
“death—the beginning of life”
all I could think about
was how comfortable a bed
with clean sheets could be
———————-
may be angels are laughing at me
may be they don’t snuggle up
to someone that they love
may be they look up at the throne
and prepare for their next chore
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I drove through town fast
I knew the stereotypes
the damaged opinions
how does one step outside
——–conditioned attitudes ?
pulling into the driveway
loving the pleasures of family life
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today was generous
extra helpings of guilt
available free of charge
the self-destructive line
went around the block
——————
the enhancement of drugs
a little put away for later
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the stuff one buys
is never total annihilation
almost annihilation
poor little Jesus on the cross
why does he look so small ?
elaborate robes in the back room
which was worse, oral or backdoor ?
—————————-
having lived through hearsay
inaccuracies and distortions
a victim of excessive sensory desires
life was sodomy enhanced by light
through stained glass windows
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linguistic application poetry
cut-ups with a .22 handgun
cut-ups with people who failed school
every time the phone rings
it might be a dose, or a smoke
or someone lost and looking for advice
the randomness of juxtaposition
a word next to a word becomes a paragraph
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thanks dude – it’s all true!
It just write it as i think it – without a beard I do have the worlds smallest chin.
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they stuck a spear in his eye
he was too much the enemy
and not enough of us
having gone through scolding
and kicks in the nut sac
he just couldn’t behave
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local poets circling the library
the collapse of language was imminent
FLARF poets proud of their deviousness
they constantly defeat the purpose of words
eager to display her Rhinoceros clitoris
the librarian referred to it as her Absurdity Bone
****semi-autonomous comment
momentum to move forward lacking
the drags of limitation and soft asphalt
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“descended from an ape”
regulars at the pool hall
questioned the size of Adam and Eve
when a God makes people
how big or small does he make them ?
were they miniature ?
(+) humans as flexible products
(+) evolutionary trial and error
(+) proliferation of mutts
(+) the play of the mind
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CONVERSATONAL POETRY:
KNOWLEDGE IN PLACES ONE WOULD NEVER EXPECT
TO LOCATE KNOWLEDGE.
—————————-
THE HOBBY OF INTENTIONAL INEXACTITUDES
(———GURDJIEFF———)
if comedy died in the middle of the night
tragedy would be nude
making the labors of the next day more difficult
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people on the bus
started to mock you
a simple performance
but how did it end ?
were you embarrassed ?
( you thought about the needle )
life on stage: obscene with expletives
outrageous exaggerations
your brother holding the award
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straightforward poetry never works
lame poets jamming words into cages
———a royal absence of anything defined ( a poem )
however dry your throat may be
try not to break the silence
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demons drinking kerosene
dancing to Rihanna and Drake
the day full of sulfur and sweepstakes
(+) excessive surrender to the limitations of cash money
slipping back down the ladder
——————————–
just think
what if you were absent from creation ?
you wash away the dirt
you shave that hair
you powder your behind
just stay away from mirrors, Baby Bird
you’re not really who you think you are
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POETRY WITHOUT RENT OR SEAM
that “which refuses to be named”
forces agents to knock on your door
forces thugs to break knees
the errors of particular excess
carry a difficult price to correct
****lessons of a short rope
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poetry that asks the reader to inspect it closely
private detectives positioned to observe
her parents only have limited authority
the neighbors have serious doubts
the pages seem too large
for the book
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THERE WERE NO YAWNING DELINQUENCIES
AT THE COFFEE COUNTER
a double scoop of meth
a clean tee shirt
****outraged and outrageous
Bob Dylan walked by barefoot
no one asked for an autograph
a sign of the times
(+) the value of a tie-wearing folk singer
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the barber discovered a small door in the back of the customers head
– they tried to open it
– a bright light shone from within
(and some light jazz
that honeymoon aroma)
– they tried to find the chord that connected brother
to sister
who couldn’t resist the fruit
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the barber was told not to mention the door
few people talk about it anymore
——————————
your own personal archangel
—————————–
a long painful adolescence
three weeks without relief
rendered speechless
by a genital boil
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my signature was illegible
that’s unreadable to the illiterate
and I did hear about an argument between the two detectives
the difference between evidence and fact when one prime suspect disappear under solar flares
—- fingers of accusations
—-fingers and penetration
booked onto the next ark
my bags packed
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the smart poet would never get into poetry into the first place
– he would write words and show no one
– just writing because
– at breaks at Leviathan
– a hero in his own mind
little boasts to the girl at the coffee counter
the right is returning
the doctor listened as history reached its cross
road
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all births and deaths were recorded
one would always outweigh the other – a landscape of graves
the big drop off the cliff
that dry throats felling after six hours of kissing
what is under hem-line?
what drugs will we take today?
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at the birthday they all waited for the cake
a cake of curdled cream made from dead milk with a message that no one could read —
–harpy bumday?
–haffy burpgay?
–turned off by taste
I put concrete in my ears
I glue my eyes
– turned off many moons ago
I HAVE A LOW VOLTAGE
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militia poetry about guns and the south – books wrapped in flags
– DON’T TREAD ON ME vol 1&2 –
retread of theme
and image
unpleasant like the smell of a corpse
– I don’t want to see how their minds work
reprising barbarian onslaught
militia poetry written in Whitmanesque woods
carved in trees
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if you want privacy
the close the god damn door
if you want poetry
don’t post it on line
bias determined by algorithms
tenderness at a cost
how much water to soften the parched ground?
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police trying to define “consent”
an arm not attached to the body is a strange sight
weak men trying to regain power they never had
carrying out actions their mothers would be ashamed off
living in the future while heading Into the past
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what is the bait?
who baited the hook?
Edward Hooper’s pictures of buildings and homes in towns of architecture where everyone looks sinister
with frenzied thoughts
with his logic
the murderer and his victim are both to blame
(they will never raise a statue of me)
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faces from award winning documentaries about World War Two
faces from wanted posters
and a face you wanted to replace yours
– complications with age
– lullabies about death
—————————-
REPREHENSIBLE BEHAVIOUR of card carrying Nazis
(and those who left their cards at home)
——————
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——————————–the true reward of writing poetry
imaginary gratification
————————-
as the room grew dark
with the setting sun
the satyr
trying to remove himself from a costume
making noises like a wounded mongoose
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playing with decadence
without succumbing to it
the poet as observer
the poet as participant
detectives in a variety of roles
which came first
(+) the mental breakdown
(+) the knock on the door
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frolicking with a nutcracker ballerina
penetrating incisiveness
without preliminaries
not even first names
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she spoke of her shortcomings
the surface flaws
circles on her butt cheeks
other men had kissed her there
gas and love declarations filled the air
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raw emotion on the streets
torches burning at city hall
this side
that side
hateful words with sexual overtones
historical attachments
bravado at the pool hall spills out into the streets
no time for a honeymoon now
burn the spreadsheets
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a comfortable bed with clean sheets is heaven at a price – hotels that charge per hour
– can you put a dollar amount in happiness?
– my drug dealer says yes
– angels on their days off
unshaven & vulgar
waking up & phoning in sick –
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how does one step outside?
do you open the door?
climb out of the window?
tunnel on dirty knees?
the driveway to heaven
paved with dog dirt & weeds
family life
sometimes
can be like suffocating in a submarine
—
come up for air
every second Wednesday
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keep the receipt for the guilt
you can return it within 28days –
– self destructive actions
– delivered in small measurements
25 grams
small pleasures and no rewards
—-
a plague is upon me
——
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the physical deterioration
of the cake
grew more pronounced
with the passing time
——————–
freshness was a missed opportunity
——————–
Ms. Curie sent you a birthday card
with a free pass for proclivities
(+) all ready your dong had a strong inclination
toward something objectionable
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don’t know anything about guns
or flags wrapped in flags
Neanderthals:
(+) caveman pirouetting
(+) psychiatric pirouetting
———————
unhinged laughter
——————–
compensation for a feeling of inferiority
words flow with no sustained reprieve
short outings in a dangerous world
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parched ground
a disguise for human failure
water being a kind hearted playmate
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————–MILITIA POETRY
wanted: a secretary with a Dictaphone
a large vehicle for expressing interior dialogue
(vicarious means of self-gratification)
a mad race to bankruptcy
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hello ARTIFICIAL DISTILLATIONS, I won’t be in today
hello Mommy, no school today
you could say clipped wings
baby bird no fly today
———————–
the demands of being a professional poet
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gritty aspects of family life
——————————-
no idea about the museum of mother
poisoned aphrodisiacs for holidays
pathological lies on the cold side of the bed
fleeced and hoodwinked for supper
possibly another lethal dose
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giant carcasses at the local market
no one had the courage to confess
horse meat as sweet and slick
a means of survival
unapologetically
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attmepts at total annihilation never fully work
– (she told me the dinosaurs survived)
– little Jesus on his cross
look at those sad eyes
– avoided sensory desires by never leaving the house and turning of wifi
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the man on the cover of led zeppelin 4 had a bad back from carrying those sticks
– he tried to sue
– Robert told Jimmy to kick him in his nut-sac
the poor man and his bad back
imagine carrying all that weight
like a modern day Atlas
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in the back of the head
a stack of odd smelling rags
the kind of odor one would find in a peep show
if one were hiking across Australia
semen full of unpublished manuscripts
scars on the walls from angry whiplash
(+) optimists with soft hands
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NO SOLAR FLARE TODAY, BABY BIRD
————AUGUST 21, 2017————–
the sun blotted out in the sky
grilled cheese sandwiches being made
by the millions —— $9.95 with pickle
Pink Floyd smelling like Helena Rubinstein
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———–BREAKS AT THE LEVIATHAN———
employees smoking meth in the parking lot
penetration in small closets and stairwells
passion outside the scope of marriage
small rock-hard dongs that wouldn’t stop
long baseball bat dongs cold to the touch
lovemaking like alligators gone wild
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apocalyptic termination was posted
prostitutes at home
soaking their feet
seductiveness on the floor
destabilizing
———————————-
the poet busy thinking
about kissing for six hours
alter-ego projection ?
(+) mild-mannered kissing is too tame
(+) with still warm seductiveness on the floor destabilizing
(+) a sexual buccaneer
(+) willing to sacrifice everything for a squirt
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rumors that boy scouts
were visiting the cake
weeks before the birthday event
what a deal——buy the cake on discount day
(+) odd tang to the icing
(+) it was not butterscotch
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RESIDUAL ROMANTICISM:
a Nazi flag wrapped inside
an American flag
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———–MILITIA POETRY
the ensuing monster
history hungry
dead soldiers outside the gates of Heaven
swearing that nothing mattered in the end
it was impossible to immunize the soul
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————-parched ground———–
what has been consistently omitted
from poetry
(+) extreme forms of self-protection
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THE HEAD IS LIVING IN THE FUTURE
THE BUTT IS POOPING IN THE PRESENT
hysterical voices crowd the past
in a weird way
the past may be a museum of farts
****NOTICE…….avoid the Eskimo room !
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if all artists are criminals
talk to me about the direct proportion
of wrongdoing
in paintings by Edward Hooper
(+) a world where people could live together compatibly
(+) unquestioning support in the matter of writing poetry
(+) an erotic home life—privately pornographic
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do not give your library card to the librarian
if you are going to request books of an incendiary sexual nature
librarians are noted for treacherous cruelty
(+) all librarians have a crippling wound that never heals
(+) the sensitivities of readers make for easy assault
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Buddhists power WIFI by pedaling a bicycle
conversationalists give constant birth
to conversational poetry
disillusionment is common
creative energy nearly dissipated
signatures of bohemianism visible
suggestions of illicit adventures
episodic autobiographical sketches
****just think how many times you washed your hands in Greece
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poor little Jesus on the cross
(+) what was the burlesque in his life ?
(+) was he a spiritual automaton ?
(+) rumors of sexual ecstasy
(+) rumors of castration
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a kick in the nut sac
so hard
that he pissed red bubbles
****how does one nurse such a thing ?
he got nervous when the doctor
stated that he was missing a testicle
(misplaced humor)
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local poets circling the library
countless tweed jackets
and corduroy trousers
adults taking drugs and drink
to hurl backwards toward childhood
womanizing men and womanizing women
mental pictures of a real life Rhinoceros clitoris
rumors about the librarian sporting one in a genital cone
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talk about a high-water mark in your life
having a spear stuck in your eye
disobedient boys get punished
poets with dangling cigarettes
cheap berets—bulging pockets
as a collaborator I entered your name in a contest
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the idea of sexual experimentation
intruders
different kinds of lies
unwashed confidantes
small talk about dirty sheets
reenactments of shameful events
——–next door——-
basketball on the television
with the sound turned down
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the local flarf poets circled him on their bikes – each one repeated a word – one after the other
they repeated their word
verbal flarf
drive by flarf
(the words devalued without context)
repetition repetition
the flarf poets cycled away
the silence was beautiful
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did god have balls ?
did he even gave a nut-sac?
a constant topic of conversation at the pool hall –
trial and error explains evolutionary – big tall short small
untraced history
backtracked
carbon dates
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Sylvia Plath said,
“poets act in some bizarre unconscious obedience
to some primal part of their self
—a mental program that dictates collections of words”
(+) painful origins
(+) skinned knees
(+) hormone frenzy
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living through the senses
a collection of words
that somehow signal a message
(+) often pain the prime catalyst
(+) insight at the coffee counter
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RESIST THE DICTATES OF SUPERIOR FORCES
marriage connected to pain
folklore and folkways
inhibited-sentimental-secretive
once strong in sin
the ordering hand of God
has waved all that away
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detectives trying to photograph
your play of mind
detectives trying to measure
your private stature
a noble savage among common savages
crowning from trial and error
giving your brother arrogance
you capturing the intelligence
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unidentified ancestors
not a single ape
the coffee counter girl
trying to bolster vanity
rather than injure it
“survival of the poet”
(+) God asked me to reverse my family tree
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poverty with its tight collars
poverty with its tight collars
poverty with its tight collars
boy bands in the popular imagination
busy inflating themselves
rather than God
****boy bands all ready discarding the past
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said it wasn’t difficult to know when I was done
purposeless words those were
jism at a considerable cost
—————————–
detectives busy trying to unearth knowledge
the cleansing process was a success
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when you go to work
the children ask
if you are a pirate
strange women at the microwave
ask about your other half
is he cute?
does he have a hairy chest ?
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poets allow themselves
a wider latitude
in human affairs
priceless evidence
in your writings
yes, many peculiar encounters
yes, heated intimacies
vulnerabilities
infirmities
****words wet with debilitating implications
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I remember seeing the comedian literally die on stage
– he fell between red velvet curtains*
– a bad punchline
the audience applauded
thin line
comedic tragedy
story of my life
*honeymoon metaphor
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—————BICYCLE POETRY———-
adrenal rages in a circle
—fundamental FLARF
—non-fundamental FLARF
to hell with tuberculosis and black lung
powerful men and women in literature
sodomizing the floodgates of younger writers
violating copyrights and testaments
violating libraries and librarians
fantasies of violence and perversion
jumping from the infantile mind
like athletic popcorn
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“GENITAL APPARATUS” an arrow pointing up
God standing next to the sign
———————————————-
people in Heaven walking around in stupefaction
a constant source of amazement for the pool hall gang
welcoming any and all psychocritiques
****discussions in private
****repetitive masturbation
****reciprocal masturbation
THREE PEOPLE WAITING TO BORROW YOUR HAND
—–VIRGIL, DANTE, and RIMBAUD
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IF COMEDY DIED
IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT
TRAGEDY WOULD BE NUDE
MAKING THE LABORS
OF THE NEXT DAY
MORE DIFFICULT
the city bus takes you to the pregenital zone
public transportation is a simple regression
infantile daydreams as you watch the world pass by
city colors are incomplete—–deceptive
repetitive store fronts and symbols
sadomasochistic implications
a thousand desires to hide
a thousand desires to reveal the monster inside
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the poet may identify with the active or the passive
public transportation to the oral and anal areas
harmonica sounds from the military clad riders
perverts looking at magazine photos
of semen being sucked up
through a proboscis
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Kentucky mothers nursing babies
wacked-out meth mothers
rubbing poison on their nipples
will baby suck ?
will daddy suck ?
will the landlord suck ?
(+) the desire to play with death
(+) undeniable playfulness
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the performance never ended
I felt like an actor
constantly “on” – I had no script
freewheelin’ Johnny Boy
making the words up as he goes –
I took the brake off years ago
I stood on stage
the crowd left
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words in a cage alongside rabbit poop
and scrap news paper
yesterday’s headlines left stains on your fingers
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my children kept mentioning Drake
– I thought about the Spanish Armada not a rapper in a fast car –
slipping down the ladder of history
fading past the point of memory
I wandered what Drake smelt like?
diesel and maple syrup?
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poetry on a flat page
through the margins
across staples
removed the dust jacket
there will always be errors
strikethrough / erase
– at that stage where I try and pull the reins on excess
a rolling train full of sodomised hobos
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a train full of sodomized hobos
on their way to the Capitol
to be burned at the stake
before you blew out the candles
on your birthday cake
you saw the hobos signaling you
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MILES DAVIS SAYS THAT YOU TOOK THE BRAKE OFF
MILES DAVIS SAYS THAT YOU TOOK THE BRAKE OFF
MILES DAVIS SAYS THAT YOU TOOK THE BRAKE OFF
GROWING UP— that other kid just screwed everything up
growing up in an examined environment
continuous explanation
that damn other kid
years of print and pictures
HOW COULD YOU BE INNOCENT ?
when you got old enough—soundtracks
when people died on the big screen
guess who took their place ?
that bossy boy
manipulative,
dominating
a first-hand rat
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rabbit poop is outside bourgeois conformism
Abraham Lincoln always had a pocket full
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Spanish Armada—-the brand name of a cheap kitchen appliance
————————————————————————————–
the Drake Scenario
America permits a limited number of blacks to be successful
they are not really black
real black people
are not visible
just like Native Americans
9 out of 10 people can’t name one
—————————————-
history burnt at the stake
——————————
some day there won’t be any intimacies
people will lie about the sexes being divided
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five different versions of Miles Davis
burnt at the stake
I swear he was signaling to you
all those hooves in motion
one-tenth of a second
and gone
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PULL THE REINS ON EXCESS ?
Baby Bird, you tossed the brakes
nonsequential yet coherent
conversational poetry
page-turning prose
Monopoly board reality
(+) books stacked by the fireplace
(+) books stacked by the commode hole
words go up in flames
words sleep in mounds of excrement
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the detectives were loco parentis
they signed the paperwork
they took charge
they presented the parents with the bill
(the parents were two hand grenades
waiting to explode)
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the same girl at the counter told me she thought yawning was a sign of suppressed aggression –
– I’m no Doctor I told her –
I yawned and exposed my teeth
like a jackal
barefoot Dylan
calloused skin
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Yul Brynner travelled through Archangel on his way to Hollywood
he forgot the name of his barber
he hadn’t seen him in years
bald Yul
with his head like the moon
viewed from a telescope at night
smooth
like a virgin
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ROMANCE too heated
to suit standards of public taste
ungrammatical sex
friction that causes spontaneous flames
friction that spawns sudden death
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boomeranging back into boredom
the pills wear off
barefoot Dylan
nervous in the frying pan
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the satyr
trying to remove his swollen manhood
from the flesh curtains
she reminded him of a baboon
but with make-up and clothes
she could pass as a guerrilla look-a-like
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create reality with the basic ability to daydream
riding the bus and daydreaming at 100mph
riding the train and daydreaming at 100mph
the wife with a grenade under her pillow
wake up and watch her playing with it
the grenade is a powerful imaginary weapon
she was an unmapped female
isolated and dangerous
death was the simple solution
I told her to do it
life wasn’t necessary
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I found the perfect girl
she was a man inside
we settled down
now we’ve grown to the ground
————————————–
Adele is outside singing at the door
I loved her and set her free
her Victorian farts so sweet
Adele take your cheeks home
kiss that rat boy husband
on the rubber sheets
dare not speak
coughing lung snot
coughing lung rot
a sanitary napkin
taped across your mouth
( tuberculosis)
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who stands at the end of the hall
laughing ?
you will not get beyond death
don’t even start your jet car
or open the family bible
the promissory note to be paid
the prearranged time
a simple trip down the hall
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life is spontaneous and problematic
overcrowded in poverty
children sitting on the school bus floor
children sitting on the classroom floor
playground ringleaders
channeling energies
in the restroom
“How was school today ?”
(+) HITLERIAN
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layer after layer of clothing
to suit standards of public taste and decency
never to be taken off
showers and bathtubs and swimming pools
took days and days to dry off completely
over seemingly impossible amounts of time
the clothing fell apart and vanished
but the standards stayed the same
——————————————-
——————————————-
(+) the stratagems that powerful poets invented
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****DESTROY THE PAST
simply by ignoring or forgetting it
readers create their own fantasies
poets climb tall trees and leap
tired of living in a reality
never portrayed in the present
(+) greater simplicity on a cloud up above
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ballerina with nicotine lungs
xylophone rib cage
toes stronger then iron
no need for names
position one
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circles on her butt cheeks from
sitting to long on the toilet
reading old newspapers and playing on her phone
a safe place
but one that smelt
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FIRST-HAND KNOWLEDGE OF THE FICTIONAL WORLD
————————————————————————–
flashbacks—which go backward and forward in time
unable to formulate feelings, much less verbalize them
readers never know exactly what the poet is thinking
—————————————————
verbal processing on the spaceship
men naked in a tight environment
it was either fight or engage in sex
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not exactly a fan of nut-sacs
or hairy butt cracks
masturbating seemed safe
once the container size
was no longer an issue
—————————–
apes in outer space
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astronauts wearing expensive socks
daydreams of vaudeville sex
sharing a hand-job
with manic frenzy
****blends of gibberish and wads of foreskin
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many rhythms and even more voices
different shades of human nature
man sometimes resembles God
bipolarity
the desire to hide
the desire to reveal
fantasies of violence
fantasies of passion
critiques of your genital apparatus
——————————————–
the complexity of reciprocal sex
nothing simple like expensive socks
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the bridegroom found himself
periodically milked
often told his baby syrup
was sweet
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anger starts when the baby is made to wait
disguised as the bridegroom
he is forced to wait
Moses had the strongest flashlight in the world
God made him wait
****after death, the psychiatric ward will make you wait
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psychoanalytic circles
with their dongs in hand
meth being the death of choice
mild-mannered cocaine down the drain
****dreams of charismatic coffee counter girl
with a knife stuck in her chest
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like the smell from an Afghan hound
the celebration of taking a dump
that’s why there are candles
on the birthday cake
————————
delight in excrement
at an expense
(+) elephant size enemas
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Bob Dylan singing about being on the receiving end
having a large wheelbarrow pushed up there
more gratifying than writing a poem
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TWO HAND GRENADES READY TO EXPLODE:
(+) mommy grenade was leaking milk
(+) daddy grenade was leaking jism
a critical moment in the development of the homosexual infant
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passive reception of pain into active enjoyment
a famous lyric from a Dylan tune
about pushing the wheelbarrow
even farther than before
——————–
the poet swallows life
and produces poetry
from the exit
——————–
brown psychic
glaze
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real dongs and dummy dongs
sponge rubber and smooth
careful where you sit down
ass clamps
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THE POOL HALL PROTAGONISTS
usually boys—adults smearing and swearing
ignorant of their sadomasochistic ways
wives speak of the spurt of pleasure
never love or intimacy
disagreeable incidents
the constant need for money
mommy and daddy visit
only to find excrement
on the living room rug
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your brother said that one of you
was a hermaphrodite
and it wasn’t him
your clitoris got rather large
it became dangerous
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man defines himself
through his actions
no one takes credit
for the sodomized hobos
traumatized on a train
policemen collected ooze
the Red Cross gave them
sturdy jock straps
in patriotic colors
****leftovers from a homosexual parade
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written poetry with no proper destination
poets like cigarettes in need of an igniting spark
hobos bent over taking it from behind
angels frown and say that it’s just not right
unimaginable pleasure —man on man
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****A SUBJECTIVE VALUE JUDGMENT WAS NECESSARY
a trainload of sodomized hobos interpreted as a threat
poets running around with flashlights
trying to illuminate shadows
scary things that cannot live without a host
parasitic organisms on two legs
(+) Narcotic Agents screw with the cell phone
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faceless addicts racing from motel room to motel room
each one having touched institutional life
identity stripped away and defiled
pressures to conform
a broken bone
kind of clarity
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chopped-up prose with spaces
arbitrary juxtaposition of words
assaults on language
hideous nut-sac
cruelty
(+) trying to recall a sexual scenario before the damage
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not for profit poetry
avaliable online
cardboard cutout supporters with buttons for eyes
all phone set to silent
avoid invisible contact
spell check changes meaning
a flarf dictionary in your pocket
at K-Mart you can buy a canoe and a shotgun
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everyone wants compensation these days days*
people feel insulted at the smallest thing
people are offended on behalf of others –
everyone thinks everything is connected
cavemen in small gangs
roaming forests
looking for supermarkets
*the man who sued McDonald’s because he was unhappy after eating a happy meal
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a ground where life cannot grow
ancient signs hidden
plain view
– the seeds needs liquid
– and on the horizon telescopes point towards the sky
at the future away from human failure
the new ark will fly
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who does the secretary turn to ?
( her dead dog buried in her yard )
letters she’s written with spelling mistakes
no attention to detail
a button undone on her blouse
dust between the keyboard keys
cold tea in a cup
watching the clock
as it is today
so it is tomorrow
poems about offices and isolated incidences
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SPELLCHECK THE CANCER OF POETRY
absurdity-haunted flarf seems immune
turn the calendar page
of Robert Frost classics
bourgeois conformism
—————————finding yourself nude
descending a staircase in Duchamp’s studio
—————————finding yourself eating
a hamburger in a funeral hearse
(+) the domain of conversational poetry
does not belong strictly to a language of words
(+) Leonard Cohen said that he was growing light
now he’s gone
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a flarf dictionary with missing words
words that can never reassume their place
words you express
when you get your dong
caught in a zipper
when you get your nut-sac
caught in a zipper
words transcribed by a police stenographer
after you take your first dump in lock-up
witnessing and being witnessed
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all that baby blood
every 28 days
makes the vampires cry
the price of heroin
makes poor people crazy
do you think it could be pure ?
****psychopathic criminals frightened by outer space
****anal assassination in the Big House washroom
the detective interrogates the young mother
“did you toss the baby out the window ?”
(+) bloodshed (every 28 days)
(+) death (the baby landed on a rock)
one of the better looking detectives
came to work in a loincloth
no one said a word
****a department that finds devil worshipping humorous
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posters of brothels in Shanghai
tacked to the detective’s office walls
although openly international
the young girls looked 12 to 14
“FRY THEM YOURSELF”
“WATCH THEM FRIED BY OTHERS”
“MARES AND STALLIONS—WE GOT THEM ALL”
****boss man with yellow teeth
and metallic eyes
(the bell rings)
external cuts and scrapes
internal history in inches
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rumor has it that they are going to dig up dead actors and actresses
and try to squeeze another performance or two out of them
the things that modern technology can do
dead people smiling and talking
copulation up close
it can be done
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POISONED MEMORIES
conflicting versions of lesbian activities
there was a check mark
next to “disturbing lesbian proclivities”
joyless isolation and bad coffee
a frying pan full of sexual dreams
magazines featuring the unattainable
entrapment straight from the Bible
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Adele was nauseously prettified
for her photo shoot
absorbed in her own script
a chubby girl with a musky smell
a fashionable object
****she was Adele to me—not a cash cow
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ARTIFICIAL DISTILLATIONS,
the sister company to Leviathan
headed by a family force feed through a combination of tubes
no school today
because school no longer exists
self taught on computer screen
baby birds born with motors not wings
jet propelled into the future
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gritty aspects of family life
the dirt under the nails
digging graves with no shovels
digging like dogs
what wouldn’t you do for a bone?
poisoned by the protagonist
professional poet
preferred paragraphs positioned perfectly parallel
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at times of famine rat tasted as good as pig
roasted on a stick
stab the fat carcass
roast fat spit
sweet and slick
molasses sticky
like those first kisses
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no sun AUGUST 30
(the end of summer)
wet Texas
boats fill the street
a scene from Dunkirk
a church full of people praying for a miracle
a church full of people praying for an ark
a church full of men would give their left nut for a grilled cheese sandwhich
pink Floyd albums float towards the Alamo
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meth in your locker
tea time treats
fingers lost in the machine
down to the knuckle
down to the bone
alligators marrying crocodiles
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the kissing when teeth clash
the kissing when teeth bite lip
the kissing where you breath through your nose
where you fell dizzy
the twinge in your trousers
thinking about anything but THAT
– outside of yourself
floating above
(remember to give yourself a pat on the back)
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the Boy Scout with an armful of badges –
tiny shorts while stood at salute
the flag raised
half mast
half past the hour
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(+) an ache of disembodied lust
(+) the dictionary being used as a masturbatory aid
(+) adults writing in their journals about the repeated
experience of loss
(+) thank God for carbolic soap
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ideology of idiots screaming
FLAGS SHOULD NEVER TOUCH THE GROUND
at the HQ
stolen copies of Mein Kampf steady the table
Charles Lindbergh dropping propaganda from the belly of his plan
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MILITIA POETRY
written with bullets fired from Charlton Hestons gun
card carrying members of the NRA are all mouth
no action
you wouldn’t catch them in the firing line
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extreme forms of self-protection
locked away for 30years
drinking rain water and chewing nails
what use is poetry in a world
that refuses to read?
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at first I thought Charles Lindbergh
was a type of cheese
then someone said that he was famous
for solo nonstop
thoughts of solo nonstop in adult films
Charles was a busy boy
(+) his mother’s nickname was “Stinky”
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WHAT USE IS _____ IN A WORLD
THAT REFUSES TO _____ ?
they tied Charles Lindbergh to the plane
33 1/2 hours without a potty break
in 1927 humans produced waste matter like cattle
it was not a pretty picture (photos were forbidden)
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I tried to help you escape
but you said that you
wanted to remain bound to the past
that the mushroom cloud
was a beginning not an end
sleeping in the ground
with a phantom lover
enormous breasts and wide hips
room for you but not your horse
I begged you to stay in our refrigerated vault
be cloned at my expense
be cloned twice if it suited you
the good Johnny and the better Johnny
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Hooper’s pictures of the mundane
towns of lonely people
looking into the distance
hiding secrets*
like hardened criminals
*skeletons in closets ?
sexual predilections ?
deviants behaviours ?
inability to read ?
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the librarian gave my details to the detectives
the librarian searched my browser history and sent copies to the detectives
– all the while giving me the eye
treachery in the silent place
amongst thousands of words
the librarian wouldn’t look out of place in a Hopper picture “Librarian at Night”
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Buddhists give their wifi away for free
enlightenment found online
facebooks statuses hashtag nirvana
the thought of Buddhists on bikes
can only make you smile
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bored Jesus craved death
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a kick in the nut sac
so hard
he spat piss
a swelling the size of a beach ball with veins
sensitive to the touch
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conquistadors poets spreading the gospel of new words
DEATH TO FLARF
smallpox words
the search a place to feel safe
– the friction of corduroy thighs
geography teachers with large strides and talk of ox-bow lakes & longshore drift
sometime I drift away
a soulless ballon
drink and drugs and emotional crutches
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schools for disobedient boys
Lord of the Flies with lunch breaks and football pictures
(. a million miles away from an island of sun and fruit trees. )
the Stanford Prison Experiment observed by academics and perverts
————
collaborators: multiple johns
——————
relatives on the Mayflowers never sent back postcards
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the idea of sexual experimentation
youthful dalliances
no time to stop and smell the flowers
Barbie and Ken dolls in positions that would make Ron Jeremy blush
(I hate the sound of basketball
the squeak of the shoe
the bounce of the ball)
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living through senses
my son keeps asking me what do blind people dream about?
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amputated limbs vs. the absence of limbs dating from birth
———————————–
could you tiptoe up and kiss the nape, the flap, the jagged edge ?
affectionate touching ? rub your nose on the raw part ?
suckle on the tender bundle ?
———————————–
precious jewels
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they had a camera but no film
they just pretended
it kept you on your toes
was you actually being watched?
behavioural changes when observed
you carried hat just in case
quick change
disguise man
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monkey groups
in the canopy
eating ticks
humans are the only species that can kill from a distance
earth tremors somewhere in Japan
time to start the exodus
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poverty at the bottom of the rung
dirty collar shoes no laces
can those skinny arms carry that weight?
muscles like knots in rope
boy bands with their sculptured hair
always an odd number
3
5
there are rumours and rumblings
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people with rubbish tattoos must have no pride in themselves
– their children’s names etched on flesh just in case they forget them
—-I weigh my words on imaginary scales
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the children know I gather dust in an office
they know not to tread the same path as me
when they were younger they thought I was a super hero
someone who made a difference
– they know their uncle used to carry a gun
constant arguments about space and how to fill it
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the black lung
the red death
the crooked finger
the reptilian brain took over
can you copyright words?
Or is it just the order in which they’re used?
a cabal of lawyers know the answers
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the poet should never write about children
being forced to wear thick gloves
conservative farmhands were angry
—————————————-
disrobed school teachers in the classroom
psychologically vulnerable
their personal cutlery
a nude status symbol
(+) innocent eyes locked on king-sized patches of hair
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poetry permits the poet to lay bare
the vulnerable areas of his world
demands and obligations
———————-
judgmental readers:
(+) tactual stimulation (sandpaper sheets)
(+) suspicions of self-centeredness may arise
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a bodily grave for a new birth
what a load of crap
playing games with plenty of time for defecation
masturbation with the monster bulb of orgasm
****the ego outgrows itself
genital organs in a shoebox
some separate the phallus
from the anus
SOLO-SODOMY
(+) a carnival side show “SOLO-SODOMY”
ingested, digested, wiped clean
dismembering and enjoying the tease
the combination of pleasure and pain
calling lovers, “mommy”
thinking daggers in daddy’s back
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join a club
where everyone talks about no-demand sex
————————————-
the form and mystery of the human body
a creation that made God sing and dance
Leonard Cohen watching God through an anal opening
God oozing an odoriferous attractant —saying the “C” word
(+) God was the world’s first boy scout
(+) God had a pocket knife with arms and legs
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join a club
taught to express love in a non-sexual language
neither party experienced an orgasm
new age sensory enhancement
people sit in a circle and discuss no-demand sex
in the background somebody was playing jazz on a gourd
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join a club
every time a lady mentions
her vaginal fatty acids
her husband made a face
I noticed hardcore calluses
on his right hand
(+) sanitized sex = no-demand sex
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round up the unclean
the hobo express
mainlined into capital city
a damp smell
made to work for this rich white folk
all people of unknown age
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Miles had no brake
he moved like a bouncing ball
– his unknown twin
– how long have you lived in the shadows?
– heated up under microscopes
prodded by fingers attached to arms with holes where the drugs flooded through
– garden of Eden killed the innocence Eve carried a picture of Miles in her wallet
Adam pretended he didn’t notice
a web of lies.
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Abe was like a magician
keeping a rabbit under his hat
if a meets by wasn’t going his way he’d wipe the rabbit out
the course of American history would be different if it wasn’t for that rabbit
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a certain ratio
allowed to slip through the net
a small number climb up the ladder
gives the impression of fairness
tokenism facade
tokenism facade
amnesia proletariat*
I heard some folk in the South think native Americans had blue eyes and blonde hair
*stolen from a band from El-Paso
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I played monopoly and ended up homeless and on crack
I passed go
and wasn’t rewarded for my efforts
I went directly to jail
I made a knife from a rotten toothbrush
I was the boot
I was the car
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romance outdated
first date online
second date delayed due to slow wifi
third date and they still haven’t met
sex through words
sex without touching*
*bjork
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grenade pin pulled but she still had the device in her hand
incendiary stuff
ticking tick ticking tock
iSolated hand with explosive metal
simple solution of death but what if the light at the end of the tunnel was just you re-emerging from a vagina into another life?
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a simple down the hall in the dark takes a different turn
– feeling your away along
– a blind man with no compass
North has been removed
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life lessons not learnt at school
but reactions to situations
– shitty drawings stuck on school corridor walls
living in a time where WE’RE ALL WINNERS – medals for taking part
5th grade Darwinism
lord of the flies
kid with the glasses
insects burnt under lenses
the gym block burnt down
deflated basketballs
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some say the cloud up above was sent by God to punish the sinners and masturbators
– some say the storm coming isn’t real more fake news for the meme generation
– poets throw spare words into the wind and let them land on islands thousands of miles away
our reality will change in the aftermath
our reality will be altered in the ghost town debris
of houses with holes in them like tanks have driven through
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first hand knowledge of things we’ve never seen
or things we’ve never heard – flashbacks to birth
flashbacks to the honeymoon
fast forward to death
fast forward to the afterlife
a reoccurrence of all things you’ve already seen
imagine coming back as yourself !
what a waste
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private masturbation = safe
public masturbation = dangerous*
*apes masturbating in cages while he paying public watch –
– is the zoo keeper a pimp?
–
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astronauts change their socks daily
– outer space hygiene
– recycled urine
– foreskins removed prior to lift off
from up their they say the winds coming in they plotted its path while floating in a suit
shitting in a bag
8 miles high with no wifi
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milked like a cow in a cage
udders the size of a human head
a friend confided that he hadn’t discharged for weeks
a river about to burst its banks
seasonal flows
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Moses went to high ground to see the destruction
he wore a dress and a baseball cap
– he had been anointed with a warm Cola balm
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the damp smell of the hound
and it wasn’t even raining
leaking from the inside
blood poisoning from sabotaged meat
bloodied fangs. the flood waters washed it clean
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leaking father (small semen tears at the end)
lactating mother
fluids flooded the house
little Jimmy with a snorkel in his bedroom
repressing memories at an early age
repressed and compressed like carbon in his mind
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the wheelbarrow contained his prize
the prize he didn’t want
but he changed track
wore a new pair of shoes
walked a mile home
tilting his hat and wishes everyone a good day
a good day for lemonade
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at the flooded pool hall
the balls couldn’t float
they sunk to the bottom
with the butts of a thousand French cigarettes
the disagreeable spurt nearly blinded the wife
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my clitoris had a name
I whispered when it was stroked
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the embarrassed hobos
open and exposed to nature
patriotic feelings for a country that only exists through a collective consciousness –
– the hobo with his angry stomach travelling the tracks
the joy of the gay parade
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has anyone seen the process from start to finish?
from spark to full stop?
the angels say it’s not palatable but they haven’t tried it…pleasure through experience –
we all have something to write about some just can’t find the words
stored in biscuit bins and buried below
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the smell in the freight train
sodomy sweat whisky and gin
straw bale beds
the hypnotic noise of constant motion
sent them into optimistic childhood dreams
train tracks are veins
poets with torches
poets with matches
arsonist poets
Narcotic Agents full of narcotics
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I used to work in a mental institution
full of men howling
toothless women in slippers
a low level cloud of nicotine
people alive
but barley living
biting nails that pile up in the corner
no electricity running through them
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chopped up prose
one half left in a vault on earth
the other half
fired into space
language assaulted with scissors and misunderstandings
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chopped-up prose
that makes one think about other aspects of sexuality
early dating experiences—Spin the Bottle not Insert the Bottle
sexual kissing, fondling, sticky hand-holding, odd pubic hairs
—————————————–
poetry about the development of identity
future astronauts refuse to watch television
they float in tubs of hot water
the North Pole standing tall
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social benefits with social costs
driving across town
kissing to foreplay to coitus
the librarian sitting on parched ground
double standard buttocks
sex the double-edged sword
sex—inherently risky and not worth a damn
90 percent of 90 percent—just a wet spot
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living in the future while downloading the past
there you were—90 percent of 90 percent
kissing outside any real emotional connection
( it wasn’t your Batman cape that made you infamous )
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LITTLE JIMMY—————–LITTLE JIMMY
the doctor wet himself with excitement
now he was getting past the exterior
he was pushing the shovel into pay-dirt
all those years the fruit hung on the tree
now the fruit was ripe and ready to pick
LITTLE JIMMY WAS TO BE HIS REWARD
(+) those repressed and compressed thoughts had produced a DIAMOND
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an adolescent development textbook
focused on FLARF poets
all male—no females
the participants have weak arms before puberty
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the secret to life:
THE TILT OF THE HAT
—————————-
—————————-
thinking about last night
how you stuck it in
a friend of a friend
the opportunity was there
the necessity was there
( the storm of greater willingness )
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ALL MALE POETS HAVE WATCHED THE ADULT FILM
—————“DISAGREEABLE SPURTS”——————–
flarf poets often spend hours completing anonymous surveys
questions about your remaining lifetime
questions about your desires
indicators about tendencies
rather than actual behavior
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A TERRIBLE, TERRIBLE DREAM:
a man in a dirty apron saying,
“I cut off the clitoris because I want dependable character”
“I cut off the clitoris because I want emotional stability”
“I cut off the clitoris because I want a pleasing disposition”
a silent thought brought to the surface:
(+) if she cheats with another man, it will be for his pleasure
and not hers (he will basically use her and move on)
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at the end of the hall
Death, the most competent caretaker of all
cuddling with Death (solid integration)
(+) immediate environment changes substantially
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the smell of hobo sodomy
THE SMELL OF HOBO SODOMY
the smell of hobo sodomy
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intelligent people talking about distinct circuits
for lust, love, and attachment
no mention of hobo sodomy
what it takes to complete that task
every single time that task needs to be done
(+) one misfit flarf poet from Kentucky said that practice
enables things to happen more easily and more quickly
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fake detectives use fake cameras
male-specific play of mind
can only be recorded
on secret agent
cellphones
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I enjoyed your poetry
about XX and XY chromosome poetry
the math of gene pairs
a man of your stature taking risks
hints of low levels of dopamine
and chronic abuse of street drugs
a noble savage among common savages
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how to find the value of your words
carve them into a tree
————————-
tackling the issues and questions
that are relevant to men’s lives
Robert Frost not having a boat or a canoe
rode a log down the river of manhood
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directives that inform guys from the pool hall
what masculinity means
older males who demonstrate how to prove masculinity
a world full of social prohibitions
when it comes to attaining the safety of a tree
inferior apes cannot reach the lowest branch
the hungry predators have no compassion
DO YOU LAUGH LIKE A MAN ?
(+) thankful that only strong seed will survive
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feminized pillows being tossed outside Boy Scout tents
used to ignite a large bonfire
(+) large or small, anything to extinguish feminine behavior
(+) large or small, anything to promote masculine behavior
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wads and wads of disagreeable jism
on the stained-glass window
It was a difficult fling
from the altar to the wall
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faces from award winning documentaries featuring Flarf poets
fugitives, wanderers, sodomized hobos
inaccessible to cameras
internal language
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a climate of rain and fog
your browser history
impressionistic evocations
conversations that transcend
geographical boundaries
as a poet
one must act instinctively
as the past does not dictate the present
there is nothing comforting
about the amnesia of reality
(+) how long have you been in the present ?
(+) where were you previously ?
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—————–I have no idea what a spreadsheet is
paper printed with the math of Hades
paper printed with the crimes of industry
you told me that you were afraid to look at a spreadsheet
it was as if you were a child afraid to meet your mother’s eyes
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the smell of a $10 mattress
a girlfriend with a mustache
a bareheaded Bob Dylan
poverty stricken
songs about brothers and sisters
sired by different men
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——–A SLEEPLESS NIGHT——————-
thinking about tropical diseases in Florida
cannibalism two miles outside the city limits
horse meat on the menu—–stray dog too
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a FLARF dictionary so large that it wouldn’t fit under the bed
people refuse to discuss the bedroom of Adam and Eve
the boredom room—the encounter room
sleazy stuff that angered God
( so upset that He took the man out of Eve)
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a romantic life filled with librarians and police stenographers
a backyard full of weeds and Peeping Toms
catastrophe camped at every corner
———-CONSTANTLY SHOCKED
that a particular group of words
could plunge me into the past
evoking mysterious memories
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poets in berets
with expensive socks
the distinct smell of Mick Jagger
nervous
like a 150 hundred dollar bills
in an envelope made from a telephone book page
later in a parked car with white nostrils
memories of myself will start crowding back
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a kick in the nut sac:
thoughts about the size of poetry
poetry has probably never really changed size
the boundaries of poetry have been placed at great cost
—————————
—————————
arm restraints on a civil war bed
the internals and the externals
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no choice (other) than to grow up
become mature
to remove my angel shoes
and stand barefoot in the manure
of everyday common life
trying to communicate
but failing terribly
everything comes out like I am giving orders
“look at me, I am the Boss Man with invisible powers”
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memories of a young Ron Jeremy
he could perform oral on himself
————-solo-suck ?
————————
circles from which we come
to which we return
————————
some head, some average intercourse
then backdoor and a splash in the face
THE RON JEREMY METHOD
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Charles has cheese
you know he did
– a missing child
strange affiliations
non-stop flight away from daddy issues
so busy you thought there were text of him
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POETRY: THE OVERLAY OF THOUGHTS
——————————————————-
intelligent people in a small room
thinking about three words
SEE YOURSELF SEE
the cleaning lady handed one of the men a mirror
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viewer-participants engaged in a poetry workshop
poets dressed in canvas paintings of cave paintings
if you report that a swastika appeared in your dream
the government will cut off a finger
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poems left open for accidentals
hobos guarding their secrets
citizens safe in their set patterns
the outcome 100% certain
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the scenario of the grave
if you haven’t fully died
they will kill you
Death is justified
prior to the grave
(+) a smile becomes a type of terrain
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woman at the counter with a riding crop
frothing around the lip
– dry lip kissed the rough edges
raw parts
fresh chopped meat
she was my tender bundle of blood and bones
*a limbless man in water was called Bob
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conservative farmhands fear the machines
conservative farmhands love their calloused hands
(caressing their wife’s with roughly hewn hands….a certain thrill)
—still life drawing
cocks and apples
Zeppelin breasts
thatch of hair charcoal fingers
trying to draw while laughing hard
disrobed a book
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the ego outgrew me
it left my body and never came back
it’s got it own life now
married with two kids
– I was empty
– I spent time selecting words
time spent searching
– the sodomites stayed to their part of town – some joined the circus bringing their homemade phallus
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LIFE is the time spent searching for words
famous pool hall quote, “words are the nails in the coffin”
dead people just wrapped in plastic and dropped in cement
nails serve no purpose—none to be found in the hardware department
——————————————————————
——————————————————————
I didn’t want to be something that I wasn’t
afraid of compromise as if it was a diseased bat
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it was just as easy to inflate a gymnasium
as it was to inflate a condom
transforming everyday objects into balloons
it was easy for me to be a Caucasian
I could be as fake as a three dollar bill
an American with a shovel in his pants
having removed the best parts of multiple people
romanticized in youth—now it just hangs there
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go to the library and ask the librarian
to show you a king-sized patch of hair
touching on sensitive subject matter
one should be very cautious
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the material signifiers (limbs)
to establish the context of the body
———————–poetry executed by an assistant across the ocean
how does one measure the provocative vitality of hobo sodomy ?
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children forced to wear thick gloves at the supper table
poetry about the formation of gender and sexual identity
quantitative data on the other son—stacks of evidence
(+) later in life he was trusted with a firearm
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it was fraud
the photographs of the clitoris were fake
having seen the good, the bad, and the deformed
baby size dongs with no nut sac
and exposed tonsils slick with slime
gray flesh and Greek hair thick and long
———-nothing more need be said
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Leonard Cohen singing,
“you want it darker”
HOBO SODOMY:
what color is the pink inch ?
how bad will it feel ?
pinched and poked
nothing spontaneous
the naughty thumb
knuckling
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a great deal of writing verse
purr words at the motel check-in
mature white people words
when he mentioned her critter
she would snarl her lips
Kitty wanted dope
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LIVING IN A WORLD
WHERE WHITE PEOPLE ARE SO WHITE
they find it difficult to journey into Dark Town
pale humans heavy with dishonesty
2 police departments but no hospital
12,000 handguns and no dental care
a pleasant city at noon
penetrable in the bright sunlight
the million dollar question
you buying or are you selling ?
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warned about acting like females
strong arm boy scouts
promoting healthy masculine behavior
“feminized” male teachers planting seeds
being punched and kicked
having poetry books
tossed at their heads
(+) lesbians flashing knives made with deer horns
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intimate with male friends
bastard disciplinarians
children of librarians
children of lesbians
very few opportunities to explore
not a single trusted confidant
some crazy old detective magazines
catalogs of women in their underwear
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insert oil in the bottle
bloodied rage
Molotov angles and bloated babies
at the barricades
(the soft sound of piano)
the vanguard of revolutionary actions – same see
hand in hand
present day confusion over sexuality a blanket ban of calling yourself MALE
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social benefits
all in it together
socialist love offends the head clown who’d fuck his daughter for sixpence while burning black folk at a distance
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downloading Back to the Future
one
two &
three
French kissing your mum in purple pants and pretending it wasn’t you
.
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cheap motel somersaults
like the Twister at Coney Island
there were complaints about the hissing
of the safety-valves
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at the Honeymoon Hotel
grooms sat in the lobby
waiting their turn
as if in a doctor’s waiting room
One could hear the hornets
buzzing in their nut sacs
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a 1000 years ago
people could catch a bus
in Piccadilly
Jesus, tender, tear-drenched
get him in the grave
start the pleasures of spring
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serpents were lounging, laughing
arguments among the angels
Alfred Hitchcock was really British
he got larger and larger
galloping through calories
the larger he got
the less women feared him
yanking back and forth
little spurts in private
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(+) sibling rivalries
flarf poetry that motivates sexual avoidance
cancels competition for women at school
punishments dished out to the weak
swirls from the cauldron of lust
a footnote claims that the deceiver
is ignorant of deception
blind to motives
****you asked her what she was thinking
she became very destructive
she broke laws
testing the legal system
(+) your selfish motives came to the surface
(+) you suddenly discovered a love not trod by most men
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trying to swim under the surface of expression
schoolbooks tossed into the street
the children have expired
their mathematical precision broken
innocence has no guarantees
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every morning on the school bus
you talked about the naked body of Bathsheba
Jesus whispered in my ear
“stand clear of any attempts
to leap-frog to corruption”
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no matter the times Matt Wilson washed his hands
he could still smell Elvin Jones and Roy Haynes
out of fear of reprisal he remained silent
doubt attached to fact, the perpetual grasp
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illegal drugs and prostitution
improvised sex in Dark Town whorehouses
poetry about white men in cages
the discomfort of naked white men
geography measured in inches
—————————–
bizarre could never escape itself
poets floating on the surface of recognizable bizarre
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children throwing rocks at Thelonious Monk
thinking in more than one voice
walking like a duck
small dogs imitating a trumpet
ambiguous sounds behind doors
it is your decision
submit to divine authority
the gifts from enemies are not gifts
—————————————
—————————————
ROCKS: conga, mambo, tango, rhumba, calypso
GIFTS: conga, mambo, tango, rhumba, calypso
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little Jimmy raised with
unobtainable goals
the bottom rung of a ladder
unable to view the top
—- unbearable pressure
like crushed under dinosaur feet
—unbearable pressure that turned him from carbon to a diamond
little Jimmy
dreams
raised
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weak arms but strong wrists
weak legs but strong ankles
small girth
three days after the explosion
he sprouted his first hair
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the code of hat tilting
secret signs
all men are created equal
except for some
who aren’t
those who hobble past in tattered shoes and dirty flags that have touched the ground
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anonymous surveys and multiple choice questions
safer bets
always pick the one in the middle
middle wicket English village green
answer feed through a machine that spits out flarf answers
that make no sense
just words
and men in designer pants
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I saw a flarf poem
tonal quality from a drum
might be struck anywhere
from the center to the rim
WORDS:
burrs
metallic slurs
smears
white people jealous
of the haven of friendship
displayed on stage
——————–
——————–
the old heroic code
live hating your enemies
die hating your enemies
the guy from church
with his final reassertion of hatred
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Flarf poetry preoccupied
with primary values
caveman
updating the forehead
dong skin so long
easy to tie a knot
they brought out the girls
problematic
portions
of sorrow
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misled uptown poet
the Flarf man
working as a sideman
for a minstrel show
avant-gardists
with black and white stripes
avant-gardists
doing a jungle-movie dance
———————————
silences between bouts and bumps
kissing might lead to coitus
a loaded handgun
under the pillow
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Teenage confusion:
I knew I liked woman
and spent years thinking I must be a lesbian –
— erasing paragraphs from the bible like a child screaming with his fingers in his ears —
if it’s removed it never happened
—all those people in the cemetery never existed
vertical burials in the wasteland
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Adele as pantomime dame
photoshopped photoshoot
a dwarf in high heels
–she lived on the same road as mY cousin–
an object to be admired
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Wing walker Lindbergh with his Amelia Earhart tattoo –
jet fuel perfume in date night
–Lindbergh flew Swastika patterns over Nebraskan cornfields
–shit filed trousers over the Atlantic
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how can Death cuddle Death?
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the smell of hobo sodomy
studied in a laboratory
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distinct circuits miscommunicated with each other
small clouds of smoke
indicated damage
–time and motion study conducted on the subject of love–
the townspeople agreed the only solution was to squash him in a cannon and fire him across the Delaware
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the detectives were fake
just men with cards claiming to be what they were not
false confession of place names and flarf
IT WOULD NEVER STAND UP IN COURT
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magnetic attraction of polar opposites
the coffee counter girl would reluctantly serve me tea
she asked me about the Moors
she asked if I knew the Queen
she asked if I’d met the Beatles
she wrote name incorrectly
she called me Jon
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sleeping pills don’t work
a warm glass of milk doesn’t HELP
Death cuddles itself to enter a restful shutdown
closing shop on a world of endless hysteria and gloom
THE FINAL FACILITATOR GETTING SOME SHUT-EYE
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it wasn’t a man that they fired
from a cannon
it was bawdy stories
about oral sex
from Louis Armstrong
(+) delinquent behavior put in words and discharged to the unknown
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in some strange manner
fake detectives were like premature autopsies
the living were being treated as if they were dead
innocent people were being swirled into guilt
it was difficult to find a group with a jazz rhythm
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coffee stained hands serving you tea
1000s of questions about jazz fusion
small talk about electric pianos
she wanted her offspring
to survive long enough
to pass on her genes
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——(VERTICAL BURIALS)——
after a long period of time
would one just become a puddle
in leather shoes ?
****a puddle with a hairpiece
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the guys at the pool hall
claim that Adele has a “fat paddy” clitoris
(+) question of the day: Would she interrupt
other activities to have sex ?
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listen Baby Bird
it won’t be me re-emerging from a rat hole
it may be Charles Mingus
or some lucky soul
who can give form to improvisation
****the world needs new passages to adventurous improvisations
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my words were valued like scrabble tiles – but they lost value when they fell behind the cushions on the sofa –
the change of seasons
Robert Frost Bite
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IT WASN’T IMPROVISED JAZZ
it was scrabble tiles falling behind sofa cushions
a car horn stuck on panic
flaming logs in the fireplace
sardine tins opening in the kitchen
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sausage assaulted with scissors
she said that she nipped it in the buds
on his forehead the word “WILTS” was visible
he put all romantic dates on halt and became a novelist
it became increasingly more difficult to refrain from washing his hands
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I was tethered to the past
I admit
I couldn’t outrun my shadow
glued to history
an equation never ending
the algorithms directed me to you – suspicious scientists followed me into toilets to collect DNA
– a mushroom cloud over darktown
-your wife hipped lover was the best you’d ever had
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psychologically I was stunted
– couldn’t grow up
-couldn’t let nature take its course
people take pills and rattle
people remove skin to change
(the Joan effect)
trying to communicate in stutters and burst
morse code mumblings
flarf dot
eyebrow dashes
I had powers
but I lost them
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Ron Jeremy
blowing it like a trumpet
–no need for companionship —
a dog licking his hole
a man in a cave
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I looked in the mirror
behind me a glimmer of a ghost
the newly dead Hugh Hefner
spectrally stalking young woman in shopping malls and colleague dorms
some days it feels like I’m walking through sludge
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stolen symbols and twisted images
upside down crucifix
the symbolism of nothing
if Jesus died in a car crash would people wear small metal cars round their neck?
– take a knee
– let the flag touch the ground burnt with the hot tip of a French cigarette
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Hugh Hefner, famous for ploughing beautiful women
may have never walked more than a city block
in his entire adult life
he was so weak
that his legs
were like giant silkworms
they could barely support his gigantic nut sac
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a spider web of girders
vertical and horizontal
they called it a boat-shaped structure
but you had your doubts
I thought if I showed you the Ark
it would settle some of my debt
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and then there is the wife
————–who will readily
interrupt her activities to have sex
“hang up the phone and jump on the bone”
a simple life of pornography
too extreme for the cable networks
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(+) sibling rivalries
nastiness at home in private
men’s magazines with sex and handguns
untouchable, women and money fail to corrupt you
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no less a man
that like-minded brother
in America, schools were populated
with half-breeds, hybrids, and mongrels
(+) God enjoyed watching you test-drive your body
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rituals of courtship on display
timid boys in need of extended parenting
at some point in time they would write re-readable poetry
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she was at best, semiliterate
at times a waitress
at times an exotic dancer
medicated with meth
she couldn’t eat
an entire quarter-pounder
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motel rooting
motel oinking
motel snorting
odd trotters on a large lady
she rolled over on her stomach
she wanted old fashioned sodomy
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a private mental thesaurus
before puberty
after puberty
———-
———-
busy following the bullet trajectories backwards
gravitational pull over a long distance
self-hypnosis and heterosexual saliva
her mouth was all wet and funny tasting
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a crucifix with a can opener
tiny tins of strange Greek fish
bright silver with metallic eyes
the swellest Dad in all the world
first-person poetry
step outside
and record it on paper
confessional
conversational
fanciful flarf
(+) secretly on good terms with pleasure
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when one sex comes through the door
another sex goes out the window
detectives sit in their automobile
overbearing bastards
holiday aftershave
pee in a plastic bottle
swollen lumps on their anal area
salamanders from a poor diet
the squirm of sodomy
my God, how could it feel good ?
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somehow she takes credit
for your stream-of-consciousness
when your Vonnegut turned up missing
guess who threw it away
you caught her with a dead rat
she said that she was on “rat control”
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I tried to join the club
but I was refused
not accepted
– I had a vague recollection of sex –
I saw a video once
– a gaping hole in need of cleaning
the magic holy knife with a stick of dynamite
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with membership came a disclaimer
a wager of silence
you couldn’t un-see what you saw but you couldn’t mention it – you had to be keep it inside
– it gave you palpitations
you could feel ulcers growing
your fatty acids
leaking and slippery underfoot
I don’t need the stress I told the wife
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somewhere I read about a vacation to Greece
a fancy motel, “THE ECUADOR”
a one-star hotel, “THE ECUADOR”
a piece of plywood leaned against a wall
good for 5 days but only 4 nights
(+) telepathic communications (YES)
(+) WIFI and cellphone (NO)
the tinsel taped to the wood was a warning to other residents
“BACK OFF”
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the drugs made one aware
that large numbers of ghosts would collect
around the bed
to stare at your physical body
****being alive was one thing
****having a physical body was another
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one of the ghosts
said, “the sexes should be separated”
insects concentrated on sociological factors
insects concentrated on biological factors
they found recognition to be frightening
everything and everyone should be strangers
****being unique was a violation of the code
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at church, the priest advised everyone
to go outside and purchase a Coca-Cola
people who drink the popular soft drink
are less visible to hostile demons
———————————–
the process of evolution in a glass bottle
a thin metal can
innocent people guilty of art
spawned in the caves of Europe
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small talk about a vacation to Greece
a combination of pictorial and character language
ten different words for a cheap hotel/motel
ten different words for a piece of plywood
leaning on a wall providing minimum protection
a lean-to with tinsel to identify ownership
a safe haven from street people with scrapbooks
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night clubs offering handsome men with curls
alcohol and narcotics and sex
compulsive verbalizers
in a fake garden of delights
overhead angels recorded the activity
so God could watch at a later date
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Nicki Minaj called her clitoris “the whale” –
it looked like tenderised meat
a butchers window
the hanging flesh with white rinds of fat
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——————-THE CAVEMAN—————-
the caveman stands up in front of a billion lizards
he opens his speech, “we’ve outgrown our souls”
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the poet tampering with reality
what ever happened to blue-butt women ?
more lovers to outsurvive
throw another book on the fire
people building the Ark
they eating good
meals walk up wide-eyed
Noah blowing snot out his nose
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the only thing that I can say
she warms up real nice
smells like a kerosene heater
where she sleeps
leftover material
one morning
I saw her throw a dead rat
out the window
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a one way ticket to the Galapagos Archipelago
a simple sweat without pleasure
the airplane was scary
missing seats
you could see the pilot
the cabin door with a shotgun hole
————–my name on the ticket was abbreviated
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more lovers to outsurvive:
your radioactive girlfriend
Ms. Curie died a terrible death
sleeping with her mouth open
the pillow caught fire
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being alive was one thing
having a physical body
was another
first-person wanting to fornicate with third-person
completely unjustified suspicion
the new girlfriend seems electric
her plug is off-limits
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poetry
dwelling on sex
solo sex—-honeymoon sex
expensive drugs without a name
different color dope in thick plastic bags
things that rewrite the novel of consciousness
(+) rearrange the map, Daddy
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translucent old folk with veins like rivers under arid skin
some just bones, memories and undigested food
– a pocket full of pills
– placebo expense
– an hours ride into darktown in public transport
– rotting groceries in canvas bags
– a question he asked himself everyday: did I kill 6 Nazis for this?
– a bruise that grows daily darkening his skin
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overlapping levels of gossip
autobiographical to the point of fiction
different mirrors for different days
Capote was hiding out at my place
I know why they say he is a chameleon
the little rat bastard
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Marie Curie keeps calling for you
I know the world is her audience
that she constantly seeks attention
and demands sympathy
I also remember that you said
her vagina
was like a sweating
champagne bucket
that sex with her
was no longer credible
****death erases the purring
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I heard you praying last night before bed
telling God that you were finished
with being served half-believed lies
may be that you should toss your friends to the curb
and start out with a new collection of strangers
people less ragged
a woman with less fruit
a more narrow passageway
****a woman who demands expensive socks on her man
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BLINDFOLDED READERS
swore the gun had a roguish smile
crackpots from the pool hall
argued about their private sexual antics
“hurry-up” time
a billion women
tired of surrendering
tired of handbrake skids
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tiny babies preserved in pickle jars
gifts from the radiation clinic
probably against the law
add it to the list
—MARIE CURIE—
metal with a hum
chapters in the book:
(+) missing possibly lost
(+) injured possibly maimed
(+) mutilated or worse
(+) unconscious but alive
(+) unconscious and dead
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an emergency visit to the bathroom
late at night
people three rooms down
heard the commode seat being lifted
people five rooms down
heard the load being unleashed
such a deed would detonate
a powerful stink bomb
****he should have gone outside
(relatives sitting on the edge of their beds
with wet towels pressed to their faces)
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expensive hotel
with two windows smashed out
like the black eyes of a beaten spouse
– no static on the line
the safety valve tripped
people expressing themselves with angrily written words to people in authority
no could hear over the sound of gun shots
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nervous groom tapping his leg
fidgeting with new ring on finger nervously tapping his leg with finger nail bitten nervously thinking “will it go in without a struggle?”
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he was English and feared woman
used pecking birds as metaphor
– dark and sinister
back street post war
the reintroduction of meat into the food chain
ego the size of small South American dictatorship
dead woman in the hotel
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whatever personal suffering
had been served on a platter
in the marriage
was only a minuscule fraction
of the suffering that existed in the world
(+) disillusioned grooms pleading like sheep
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sibling rivalry
boxing brothers punishing each other
to much exercise
a pounding heart
the sweats
night shivers from withdrawal
underuse of the chemical
medical footnote measures in milligrams
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at school we had a swimming pool
the water was always cold
and on the surface
their were flies
resting wings
we were born with no expiry date stamped on our rears
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we had no school bus
we walked in shoes that creaked
– – shoes that rubbed our heals —
we had bags full of things
pencil shavings
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each day we’re in a cell
a cell with computers
underground cables
– the whorehouse closed at noon
to clean up and start again
– the roundabout of repetition
– the man who couldn’t pay
crouched down on the fire escape
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love available
for drunks and the simpleminded
possible happiness on a dead-end street
identical berets on all the neighbors
expensive socks and Mick Jagger lips
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conspiracy theory:
Flarf was invented at Bletchley Park as a code to confuse German spies
another theory: there were multiple shooters
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without linguistic rules
cavemen spoke in flarf
– prehistoric poetry
at a time they used their dongs as weapons
a skin hammer
– each sentence grunted out
– the younger cavemen made new rules
a move away from flarf
something more rigid
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sometimes the avant-garde mistake rubbish for art
– trying to find beauty where there is none (dead junkie on a mattress
-an unmade bed)
–
– the mayor of darktown said describing something with words most people need a dictionary to understand
does not make it art –
– the scream, stolen again
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the thief who robs the reproductive function
semen displaced with a squeeze and a tug
all those get well cards gone to waste
——————————
think of all the musicians humiliated
by the arrival of rock and roll
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incredible schlong
a sense of humor
known as
“rake the furnace clean”
poetry published in small books
sold in drugstores and discount markets
lawyers inform me that I could make a buck
——————————–
when I visit my Spanish girlfriend
her parents make me show my vaccination marks
LikeLike
so far you’ve mailed me photos of you
riding on a bus with no seats
riding on a mule next to a sign
“WELCOME TO KENTUCKY”
a frontier poet
—————–
a man not afraid of a large clitoris
she has a beard and a scrotum
dawdle all you like
one day it will be your turn
your chocolate on the spoon
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meaningless thoughts
with or without a dictionary
remain a mistake
bootless natives make no noise
I look at their genitals up close
mucus and cheese—a god awful smell
sit in my tent with crystal meth and bug net
LikeLike
he talked about her today
like she wasn’t dead
unquenchable
he said that she was unquenchable
he was her drink
mathematics
we talked numbers
as we dug her grave
you mentioned Kerouac
you—THE BABY BIRD
beckoned down by angels
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people in cubicles with dictionary words
enormous numbers of words
wheelbarrows of words
paintings of Gertrude Stein
artists on Peyote
constantly copying her likeness
sometimes heartbreaking
sometimes humorous
a minuscule fraction of her true self
****a burlesque girl cat with large green eyes
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without linguistic rules
cavemen didn’t speak
they made strange sounds
surrogates
****perambulator poetry (rumors only—no facts)
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PULL OUT THE PEYOTE DICTIONARY
look up a reality for me:
tell me it isn’t true
that people are donating
their unwanted pets
to the zoo
to feed the staff
to feed the lions
tell me it isn’t true
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to become steadily less
one day it will be your turn
your chocolate on the spoon
—————————-
with the fever
the Lord pounding in my skull
asking me why I am not humiliated
asking me why you are not humiliated
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the talk of jazz &
discussions on Kraut rock
Berlin basements
damp patches in Bowies flat
in East Berlin they had fake coffee – dried soil granules and they only had home made instruments
– the secret police arrested Popple thinking people were making bombs
– there were always a thousand eyes watching
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when they dug up corpse there was just bone
hair
and leather shoes full of worms
– they thought the laces were moving
vertical burials
earth bound slot machines
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each day I am the embodiment of both improvisation and method acting
–
– no one gives me a script in the morning I must make my own lines
—-currently I am playing the role of a bored office worker —
I
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the machine that takes away from you
is that your best bet for friendship ?
————-one Christmas I got a white machine
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had to pay a sentimental tax
on some homosexual fantasies
got confused about the underwater underwear
big nut sacs floating in the warm fluid
genital jellyfish scrotums
ebbs and flows
lubricant today and tomorrow
old birds bent over wanting full aggravation
to hell with unsanitary sex
to hell with the brown blockade
wearing the human body like a wetsuit
Eve wanting to remodel her body
to refashion her language
****Eve wanting to destroy Adam
****Eve wanting to tackle the Lord
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nobody watches movies
now that policemen wear cameras
filming themselves killing citizens
the raw evening news
who died
and why
officers on paid leave
at Disney Nest with family members
the wife knows he never wears a condom
she knows that she has the WHORE disease
tested positive on three tests
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everybody loves Peyote
the two halves split apart
the latrine parts fall off
or slam shut never to open
————-Sweet Jesus
ideally prays away the physical body
the world is one free of language
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(+) a great white whale in Times Square
it exploded
Chinese people took some
the rest was given to the zoo
didn’t make the evening news
there was some hipster dialogue
“the creature was free of hate”
****the death of the whale was an assault on all mankind
****total disrespect for Creation
****obscenity beyond naked humans
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couldn’t stop crying about the Leviathan
inhaled some poppy inhaled some more
I knew Jesus would be upset
bold and fearless connections
Leviathan and his family
guarded the Ark
on its journey
LEVIATHAN WAS NOT A SPECTATOR
LEVIATHAN WAS A PARTICIPANT
****in a weird way, Leviathan was daddy
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ark
boat
refuge
hotel
wood
zoo
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it’s only extreme when viewed by others
or when there is a charge
when it’s free
is it extreme?
pornographers with inherent danger
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she forgot full stops
stammered over lo lo lo long words- reconstituted meat made from sawdust and sand
—she coughed daily
spluttered a dry heave at the coffee counter
LikeLike
in Greece with credit cards galore
——————credit cards that switch
on the light bulb over the character
known as Daddy
combative in the restaurant
“no more salty fish”
fat noodles with toe-jam cheese
spuds with slaw and lima beans
‘just scrape it over to the side
and eat the meat”
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channeling the sexual instinct
into the production of poetry
insufficiently civilized
insufficiently sophisticated
just the sight of a four-letter word
and the juices are flowing
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sorry to say that Greece
has been thoroughly surveyed
——————-
admirers of madness
those begging the Lord
for more prurient literature
must measure and declare
oral or anal
(+) trying to raise snakes in Switzerland
LikeLike
all my children entered the world through a wound
– made with silver metallic
– I was left behind in the maternity wing
– at the time I was first person
– Johnny boy was third person –
– my children were swaddled in fur & outside smokestacks coughed
LikeLike
poems left outside in the rain
seep into the ground
these words
rooted to the earth
– organic poetry safe for the vegetarians
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one of these days
these days will end
when people didn’t understand Death
they buried you in a casket with a bell
JUST IN CASE
death got bored and didn’t finish the job*
*death isn’t a lazy builder running out of 2×4
or nails
LikeLike
when I left the body
I exited through the mouth
all the parasites politely thanked the host
– i saw a ghost was near by
at the edge of darktown
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no such thing as a homo
sexual ghost
phantasmagoric images captured on X-ray
– a total lack or sexual organs or orientation
it was just enough for them to have escaped the clutches of death
LikeLike
the sound of a can of Coke opening is the sound of Satan leaving your soul
the church of Coke
artistic glass bottles of the 1950s
shaped like woman you wanted to lick
LikeLike
so many ignorant things people fly to Greece thinking it’s Turkey –
– geographical confusion
– confusion with their funny money
everything lost in translation
hotel
motel
camping site in a shanty town
words used that are older the me your country
s ignorant people flying to Portugal thinking it’s Spain
POINT TO NORTH KOREA ON A MAP POINT TO NORTH KOREA ON A MAP POINT TO NORTH KOREA ON A MAP
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a billion lizards
future handbags for the rich white folk on Rodeo Drive
– cavemens fur
carbon dated before purchase –
worn by the rich white folk
antique clothing covered in dust
adds value
the mystery wrapped up in dead animal
LikeLike
they threw books on the fire BUT THEY NEVER BURNT
indestructible flarf
confused the librarian
over dinner they talked about the ark
the spirit of Noah was there,
in the sausages
hidden in the fridge
they felt his presence
LikeLike
bumpy fight
alcohol at 30,000 ft
captains playing poker while the plane flies itself
a strange smell of BBQ food filled the air
empty seats
I was passenger number one
I went to the toilet and wandered where did all the waste go?
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scorched marks on duvet
outlines of death
glowing Ms.Curie was a fairground attraction wheeled out at the Worlds Fair
her glowing aura rivalled Teslas magic lights
(but you couldn’t kiss teslas lights)
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plug in girlfriends where hard to clean
inside the
fear of damaging conduits and coils
LikeLike
overlapping comments
02.10.2017 – I am a dog
chasing its tail –
hare and the tortoise
life lessons for the pre-pubescent
let the thieves in through the front door
rat bastards everywhere
LikeLike
Marie Curie sent you a telegram.STOP. she wanted to advise you. STOP. That her glow was diminished. STOP.
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all possible combinations
life as a pick n mix
vending machines administer feelings on payday
Marie Curies house shines and can be seen from the moon
– astronauts point at it and piss in to tubes
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SMALLER SKIRMISHES THROUGH THE YEARS
teen years arrived and it was hand grenades
combat with the passions
weaknesses of the flesh
(and who resides in the chair of laziness ?)
daddy thinks everyone are different
mommy thinks everyone are the same
they both praise that other lad
the camouflaged rat
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Bob Dylan floating above the mob of folk singers
—afraid somewhere in his youth he questioned the value of God
—he sang, “you gotta serve somebody” but did he serve the Lord ?
soaring in the clouds
everlasting contemplation
and glorification
love, love, love
****secretly, religion as slavery ?
LikeLike
more or less correct words
the gentleman at the front desk
knew nothing about turbans
and even less about flying carpets
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the hotel lobby was free of nymphs and satyrs
———————————————————
one morning a group of retired librarians
were discussing the eggs of Leda
LikeLike
hymn-playing mother on the march to Bethlehem
———————————————————
700 times it was asked
is it a copy ?
LikeLike
YOU WENT TO THE HOTEL LOBBY
you asked the gentleman at the desk if you could purchase:
a needle and assorted mini-spools of thread
LikeLike
feminised male female men masculine ladies
big knuckles and loud sounds from the toilet cubicles
– having a wang doth not make a man –
–
–
– the puss of the system leaks through all the gaps –
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bastard son
an apparent motherless child
– some confusion over lineage –
a big grey empty hole
question mark for a face
–
– online searches reveal little
LikeLike
a poem about a faded flower
a poem about a fallen leaf
longing to become addicted
to sexualized drugs
to commit
(+) L. Cohen, “did you ever go clear ?”
LikeLike
an assortment of phony emotions
implements of love
Q-tips for foreskin hygiene
no-cut crust
God without science
every lottery ticket ever sold
in his shirt pocket
LikeLike
artificial needs
amusements
imitation satisfaction
all I wanted was less trouble
I waved at you in the Hotel lobby
****I saw you sell the word, “bootblack” for $10
LikeLike
you stole the magazine
from the barbershop
you daily beckon the angel
to offer him an arcade ride
I can use the word, “bootblack” in a sentence
ego thoughts sitting proud in the bootblack chair
LikeLike
no ordinary needs please
the traffic is buzzing
with artificial needs
(+) artificial romance
many dividing walls between us
I hear rattling castanets
you experience goats
with circles painted
around their eyes
****you arrived with musicians, now they are gone
LikeLike
GOD BLESS CHICKS WITH DICKS
move in, move even farther, it is okay
you love it, the more you love it
the more you can take
take and take and take
now you are part of it
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handbells in the Hotel lobby
frozen treats were for sale
the call of the trumpeter, Daddy
coins like odd ducks
bark and bay
LikeLike
the clang of the trolleycar
a nasty nursery rhyme
about her cathedral
of the pink inch
LikeLike
Kitty was chubby
but not chubby enough
she wanted to fill herself
with German soldiers
intercourse never interrupted
—————–
gorge yourself on filthy candy
make you have Nazi shits
no need to struggle
just smile and make warm
LikeLike
the first time one walks into the gift shop
one notices that everything
has “souvenir” written on it
questionable price tags
from alligator hide bible covers
to sandals made from car tires
**** no postcards of small donkeys available
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Jagger lips available for everyone
at a cost
– fake hearts
– limbs connected to machines
– a human with micro chips
– a North Korean hacker
hacks in
controls the human
at a distance
even simpleminded people can look smart
LikeLike
exhibitionistic performances at a price
the source of life forks at an obscene junction
the basin of sin with slick mucus
chance happenings
pander to romance
misunderstandings
(+) asking for as much as possible
(+) yielding as little as possible
swallowing oxygen
her entire harmonica
in your mouth
LikeLike
on the honeymoon night
she said it looked like one of Eschers aliens
– slimey little thing
– blues became rock
LikeLike
scrabble board
with seven letters
restricted volume
the word I wanted was nine letters
feeling cheated
where is the wheelbarrow of words I was promised?
LikeLike
Roman Catholic flarf
nailed to the door in a German town
the folk turned up to read the words
some seemed cold fused
BURN THE HERETIC
mute cavemen buried five fathoms deep
LikeLike
drive around the neighborhood
no where to park
park a mile away
every step is a step towards sex
but it is not that sex from the past
sex has become adhesive tape
LikeLike
the peyote dictionary turned into a colourful rock
then the wreckage of a car
(two dead occupants inside)
a man donating his eyes to the school of the blind
lions become cats become mice and disappear down a hole
LikeLike
they sell these small terra-cotta heads
that one can spread seeds
on and grow green hair
some people collect things
they’ve stolen from the wing
try to go straight
sleep in straitjacket underpants
some morphine
and the snake fear
fades away
some more morphine
and the snake grows in size
inching its way closer to your heart
LikeLike
the snake got closer and closer
to my heart
I woke up father
and I said
“daddy, daddy, it’s the serpent
going to my heart”
he brushed me aside
having failed in his march
through the quarry
the caves that got explored
the caves that did not
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if you saw my lung x-rays
you would know
I’m coughing up poetry
pissing red
cottage cheese in my spit
they give me the time-space pills
I don’t even count them
LikeLiked by 1 person
if you saw my lung x-rays
you would know
I spent my fair share of nights
at the Curie house
sex films and sunsets indoors
LikeLike
what seems like a hundred years later
I go to the coffee counter girl
and get my two scoops of meth
stupidity on my part
grim warnings
little boys and girls
don’t do as I have done
——————-
turn off the lights and I glow
terminal
LikeLike
the cancer has grown to the surface
rubber gloves to touch me
green goo in the bed pan
people beg me
to walk away from the narcotics
the pain being very mathematical
a handful of these
a handful of those
I like the time-space pills
I like the two scoops of meth
I ask the coffee counter girl
about her sources
she says, “they are bad men”
I know they wear leather
and ride giant motorcycles
I entertain daydreams
that they will kill me
LikeLiked by 1 person
I try to watch documented portrayals of life
but they are all lies
(+) brutally exaggerated reality: zombies eating brains
(+) mysteriously darkened incest
driving through Kentucky
uneducated children standing beside the highway
enjoying the breeze from passing cars
when I feel the urge to cry
I think about the helplessness of poverty
LikeLike
One Christmas I was ankle deep in wrapping paper
crunching under tiny feet
a machine in a box
with no batteries but connected to the mains
I WAS PLUGGED IN
– we woke the next day & behaved like werewolves
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reality fly on the wall movies
cops shooting black kids
kids filming bullying beatings
you sometimes can’t catch what they are saying
–
– the gun cop
with itchy fingers
sodomized at the academy
sleeps wrapped in the flag
LikeLike
a whale swimmer down the Thames
bloated it floated down the cities veins
they flew a helicopter in and blew it up
– – it was on the news
–pictures of dead nature
LikeLike
she took me down into the catacombs
under Leviathan
rows of skulls
and piles of bones
where propel never reached their destination
at the fork in the road
sign posts to Leviathan
LikeLike
I tried to enjoy the wedding
I was daydreaming about soft porn
you were studying for your pantomime class
hand-colored pink flesh friendly and ready to be licked
LikeLike
a truckload of dialogue
at the wedding
alienation from the previous
more auditory than visual
suitcases in the skull
you threw them away
but they returned
none the better
—————————–all those requests for assistance
—————————–barriers and boarded up windows
—————————–forgotten in a merciless romance
—————————–I cannot lie, suitcases in the skull
(+) you threw us away
(+) you replaced us
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when guests signed themselves in
they underlined their names
with degrees of independence
masters of their situations
(+) not a single gram of truth
no one was willing to sacrifice
with demons swallowing all the oxygen
performance reality in a catastrophic environment
LikeLike
romance being a victim of slow death
cattle bones and chalk-white flesh
maximum assistance
with the reminiscences
the tender tongue gone
having talked itself
free of a male dilemma
the tender tongue gone
having set up a new nest
sincerity the daughter
at best, a photograph
LikeLike
and you never spoke of dear sweet Sincerity
just a kid in a mixed-up world
the boys were curious about Sincerity
she was normal without claws
she was you and yours
LikeLike
you talk about the desire to experiment
you wave that exploitation card
thoughts translated
materialized into symbols
the librarian calls your words
GHOSTS
hidden from loved ones
hidden from your very self
(+) ghosts once under the weight of the Plymouth Rock
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I have friend who is currently in Florida
– he has put on three stone
– he keeps having visions of Mickey Mouse
– he got lost in a mall
– had a heart attack at the Epcot centre
– people approached him to hear his accent
– his daughter wants to be an astronaut
LikeLike
on the honeymoon night
their bodies made pleasing geometry
– insufficiently experienced but willing to ‘give it a go’
– Niagara flows
the hotels supplied umbrellas
LikeLike
Victorian opium addicts retreated to Greece for convalescence
it seemed like going back in time
– woman with dust in the creases of their face
Aristotle’s shadow spread over the mountains
there are no lions there
LikeLike
unconditional love came with conditions – teenage hand grenades
application forms completed
signed confirmation that you will disconnect from daddy
LikeLike
a thousand knife stabs and Jesus advises you not to worry
death of the physical body means nothing
one second after death
Jesus advises you to start being nervous
your soul may be dragged to the chopping block
he who reigns in death
may be ready with his axe swing of membership
LikeLike
and I tried to educate the other prisoners
that one must die in the abundance of life
a simple warning about the destructive death
of having lived a life of little abundance
a Leviathan of sin
LikeLike
the perfect highway
for the multiple personality
the slow lane for lack of
the fast lane for excess
confused disclosures
free theatre on wordpress
raw material
obstacles
LikeLike
serviced the need to release
treadmill albums full of
dime store lyrics – one step up from flarf
— churning it out
–churning it out
an assembly line of music that doesn’t soar into the clouds
it crashes to earth
LikeLike
Pharaoh in a basement snapping his fingers
singing with Bob Dylan,
“his axe swing of membership”
filled with purpose
a few willing
a few more unwilling
hearing is simple
but tell us what you understand
vision is simple
but tell us what you understand
reality running 24/7
from the physical to the spiritual
flooded in bright light
—————a thief, a robber
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the hotel lobby:
midnight refuge for waifs and strays
you see the ripped carpet?
a vending machine with a flickering light?
a framed picture of something in-American.
no famous names in the register
you can hear bugs rattling
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it was copy
illegally downloaded
the trumpet sounded wrong
the trumpet sounded wrong
( you could hear the holy spirit leave the body)
people at the side of the road were selling souvenirs and half cooked meats
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DONT SHARE NEEDLES HE SAID
DONT SHARE NEEDLES HE SAID
that’s how it the illnesses begin
DONT SHARE NEEDLES HE SAID
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a bonfire of redundant lottery tickets
– just think what you could’ve done with all that money –
circumcised men are different from the others
LikeLike
the hotel lobby
hasn’t been cleaned since 1976
– that old man in the chair hasn’t moved since 1985
bell boys check out the hookers in the bar
– – – at reception you can ask for extras
– upstairs: hollow corridors
LikeLike
“Bootblack” – offended many
– black like moles –
– Dylan Thomas’s night “moonless night in the small town,
starless and bible-black” –
– a proud ego
collapsed under the negative weight
LikeLike
during the war
the Hotel lobby
was a blackmarket restaurant
they served local meat and crackers
the cigarette girl had tobacco and papers
she was corroded and crippled but good in bed
your good looks and athlete’s stride made her saccharin sweet
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possibly a second circumcision ?
(+) write curious anecdotes about foreskins
every circumcision not performed in Father’s name
will be rooted up…. clearing the field for battle
**** in the military, men often stood around naked
so everything was apparent
LikeLike
I was shocked by the tombstones in the lobby
——————————————————
looking at hookers with a connoisseur’s eye
sordidness in a tight package
impeccable credentials
LikeLike
lethargic indifference
wanting to leave the room
to discover a woman ripe and ready
to be restored to life with aggravated sex
not tolerated horseplay….nothing honest or proper
LikeLike
the Hotel Waterloo
where many battles were won and lost
the honeymoon suite known as a tourist attraction
a nest of unreality heightened by the price of commitment
“tomorrows full of song” sadly the frenzy returned to masturbation
LikeLike
the traffic is metal snake
anacondas with headlights
through the modern restless city
gleaming new
– – the frightening realisation that
there is an end —
a constant image of a goat in make up
how many more sacrifices need to be made?
LikeLike
just look at the size of the Adam’s apple
just look at size of their hands
just listen to that thumping disco beat
–kisses and shaving rashes —
LikeLike
the angelic sleepy face of a child not knowing that
all nursery rhymes are about death
a painful death inflicted by rats teeth
a city on fire
embers of the dead
LikeLike
an iron curtain separated the hotel lobby
from the rooms upstairs
not quite the twentieth century up there
unnamed narrators would come down with tales
with constant developments and flashy contradictions
the staff would speculate but chose not to affirm
goats in makeup—————-Good Lord
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the road crew from the local prison
can update you on apparent motherless children
weekly they retrieve the bundled babies
that litter the sides of the freeway
tossed from speeding automobiles
the little buggers are often difficult to view
****the men are trained to extinguish any trace of life
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souvenir sit on shelves
gathering dust – you forget the exchange rate
you have no recollection of buying it…it looks tacky
cheap kitsch
a pink flamingo on the lawn of your mind
donkeys at the seaside
kids on their back with candy floss teeth
LikeLike
you walk into a gift shop
the first item you see
is a book of poetry
written by a narrator
who never finishes his lines
leaves you hanging in mid-air
subject matter so intense
it cannot be expressed in simple terms
it cannot be limited to a beginning or an end
(+) confessions that words circle around
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the gentleman at the hotel lobby
returned the soiled undergarments
to the lady in Room # 303
he was afraid the items of affection
would weaken the emotional veracity
of his hard labored poetry
(+) confessional poetry open to developments
she said that she liked it
somewhat out of the ordinary
after all those years in the military
all he could think of was sodomy
LikeLike
reality hidden behind poetic jargon
men in bed ….ridiculous in magazine briefs
“who goes first ?”
the sight of where he was to journey
tiny pieces of tissue
and brown icing
——————————sodomy, a painful riddle
the gentleman at the lobby desk
said, “next time turn out the light”
LikeLike
there are people who will do anything in front of a camera –
– SEND NUDES –
– SEND NUDE –
– BEND LUBES-
– a cavalcade of images
flesh hair fuzzy backgrounds
image 42: no comment
image 64a: to dark
image 134-150: delete delete delete
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people who will do anything in front of a camera
possibly brainwashed—expected to show interested sympathy
sexualized words that stick in your mind
bend over and sexualized words
will slide up your behind
OLDER POETRY
LikeLike
drive through a cornfield and all you see is corn
drive through a porno film and it is flesh and hair
——————
the secret of sodomy:
communicate the soul of sodomy
not some silly opinion about sodomy
****remain silent about angels
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so what was I to think about ?
souvenirs from the lower grades
heartless conformity
yes, heartless conformity
————————————-the poet busy writing
rapid notation of thoughts
conversational poetry : spontaneous improvisation
I warned you about mechanical measure in your poetry
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talk down to the readers
from the high horse
—————-
countless starts and stops
tossing the baby late at night
morning reality didn’t permit feeling
it imprisoned all the gifts of the mind
LikeLike
——————-THE BARBER SHOP
Mick Jagger on the radio
theatrical swarms of gay men
it was lunch hour at the Leviathan
primordial sandwiches
handwritten lettuce
with tomato
constantly being stopped and stripped
love affairs with the DEA
****the constant need to be rediscovered
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———————THE BARBER SHOP
adapted and patched together
differing manners of displaying words
schoolbook Johnny
I’m writing with a dictionary the size of a bathtub
you’re fingering a harp you found in the alley
the sounds from your fingering
make you feel more naked than humanly possible
in a negative tone, you call me Bob Dylan
****I am a detective watching you
LikeLike
death cuddles death
holding you in his arms
you reflect his likeness
(that is how death operates)
LikeLike
nighttime tremors that the snake
is approaching on his stomach
low
slithering
it’s the darting tongue that scares you the most
– in and out
– in and out
ride the snake
to the lake
where they threw in gold to appease a God
LikeLike
a beautiful skeleton
complete with teeth and a smile
concealed in loneliness
the mystery of life long gone
——————–
father starting the act out of duty
but somewhere along the introduction
he was mastered by the flesh
LikeLike
today at snake school
they taught, “pleasure can never be without sin”
I thought about the command of reason
climbing a tall tree
and shouting commands
LikeLike
cat scans outlines the doctors said
radium was present in the x-ray residue
my bones glowed from the inside
my body was warm
light bulbs flickered with static
help up against the window for a better view
at night the patient got up and spewed
the shape of his skull had changed
it stung when he pissed
LikeLike
at night you glow and moths surround you
it’s comforting to know
you have a purpose
LikeLike
the coffee counter girl
told me the doctor wanted a second opinion –
– the patient was changing
his skin was hardening
and turning into scales –
LikeLike
small children in oversized Iron Maiden tour shirts
follow coaches and try and sell tourists trinkets
art from discard beer cans
cheap plastic necklaces
the side of the road littered with dead babies thrown from abortion wagons
ITS ALL OFF THE BEATEN TRACK
behind the jazz club
in 2am car parks
in Kentucky pool halls
in a K hole
the jail cells in darktown
– the highway as blood lines that
intersect
– you can feel bad juju in the air –
LikeLike
on the downbeat
she snapped her fingers
piano cords (a swelling in volume)
whole notes from a bass
piercing cries
a drunk guy at the bar
kept repeating that Yoko was Polynesian
that she was both the greeting and the farewell
LikeLike
of course, pills for dissociated images
and thoughts
dubbed-in excerpts from grade school
NEVER rhyme, rhythm, or alliteration
life supplies a busload of professional jingle writers
broke down in front of the house
it just wasn’t the Beatles, Baby Bird
LikeLike
suicide by pop art
——————–
hallucinogenic toad urine
thank God I passed
a surprise piss test
befuddled nurses going Jabberwocky on my arm
blood so thick they had to use a larger needle
“I was walking a precarious line”
hell, I was thinking about the guys
back at the pool hall
having squeezed piss
from a rainforest frog
and then licked it
****straight from the source
LikeLike
———INTERPRETIVE CONTROVERSY———
another nasty note from Jacob Needleman
religious historians must have excess free time
———“playfully gruesome”———
he stated that my words were decorative scribbles
from the likes of funeral parlor wallpaper
LikeLike
——–a huge memento mori over the latrine door
self-mortification was the hobby of the day
the first time Adam had to take a piss
it stung real bad
LikeLike
on the wedding night I had
to tell her I wasn’t a machine
– I needed rest
– I wasn’t a youngster
–
– the old man on the bus with thin skin
head looked exactly like a skull
no meat but bones
suitcase stashes
stored secretly
lost GPRS co-ordinates would reveal the location
LikeLike
their names weren’t real
ghost writers pseudonyms
falsified history
for 30years I called him Richard but his real name was John
confusion at the registrars office
names anchored with expectation
no one expects a Cletus to be a brain surgeon
LikeLike
the desire to experiment
with noise and voices the scream of daily voices that echo like ricocheting bullets through nocturnal offices
empty waiting rooms at 2 star hotels
LikeLike
the promise that there is salvation- the delusion that there is a hereafter
a place where your spirit can soar
– reborn as a bored receptionist at a Motel
a time when the glue that bonded
weakens
–new membership cards issued for secret societies
a thousand pin pricks just to let the light in
LikeLike
the perfect highway is one that never ends
that moves under you like an escalator
flanked by telegraph poles
Motels
gas stations
– there was confusion over destination and beginning
start and end
starting point
there
LikeLike
in Greece one does not say,
“that gets my goat”
——————–
tunnel of love appreciation
humane intercourse
alcohol, bromide and chloral
——————–
impossible to forget the thoughts
lovemaking since preparatory school
living alone in a polite colony
——————–
the librarian said that I was an odd book
LikeLike
trying to capture words
from a crude drama of lunatic voices
emotions escaped from a padded cell
where the luxury of sleep was not obtainable
cautionary thoughts on what to do next
LikeLike
——————REAL LIFE————-
the new bride is tuned into the sounds of her hair growing
the new groom is thinking how a Teddyboy
would turn out if he was born in a small town
in Kentucky
****would he carry a chain or a whip ?
LikeLike
ONE MINUTE SHE WAS IN BED
experiencing fathomless sex
the next minute
she found herself outside
digging in the dirt for spuds
she saw Robert Frost
take a pee behind
a tree with colored leaves
it was early in the morning
and he was untrammeled
there was still a part in his hair
she talked herself out of killing him
she thought she might just bring him up to date
educate him with her potato shovel
LikeLike
she was praying that there was color film
in the cameras because she wanted them to capture
the bright red liquid leaking from the crack in his head
oh…..don’t concern yourself
death is kept in a separate envelope
an envelope safe from her spud hoe
—————
—————
—————
he was looking pained in his city suit
Robert Frost bleeding like a stuffed pig
the rat bastard deserved worse
LikeLike
the duplicity of the lobby
speakeasy
home brewed liquor to numb the pain
cheap meats and no questions asked
human hair found in the soup
but no questions asked
good looks were debatable
in the land of the blind etc etc
LikeLike
reversed circumcision
chicken skin wrapped around the end and stapled in
give it time the doctor said
it’ll grow on you he said
(. something smelt fowl in the hospital ward. )
LikeLike
tombstone mattresses for the cheap hookers
gravity their enemy
all things went SOUTH
prior to the transactions customer 76 asked to see her resume
he wanted references
LikeLike
lethargic indifference
the malaise of this century
lethargic indifference
a comatose walk
lethargic indifference
built proof shield
lethargic indifference
rough toilet paper that cuts
lethargic indifference
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little soldier boy
new suit with gold trim
a thousand boots marching on the road to hell
past hotels you’ve never frequented
— a framed picture JAMES STEWART stayed here
– calloused hands
and you know why
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each night they got a guest speaker in to recite chapters from books never loaned from the library
–the poor stood behind the curtains
straining ears
– the rich folk drunk cognac and swallowed dead animals
nervous staff stood in corners
waiting to be beckoned
time stood still
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the road crew learnt to catch objects thrown at 20mph +
– $15 rewards for each baby caught
– a bonus if blue eyed and blond hair
–
– the stacked them in piles of five until the sun set
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the hotel lobby was decorated
in bankruptcy after bankruptcy
each table came with a bachelor dandy
who spoke English and went both ways
paying adults could be pleasantly amused
———–CHARADES OF REWARD——
(his oral avant-garde was light-years better than your carrot)
(his backdoor skills literally caused you to weep)
****sinful man cannot write sinless poetry
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stacking the babies in a public performance manner
only God can pry into the souls of Baby Stackers
each person carries their identification
superficial——-perhaps false
—————————-
the young married couple
were upset at breakfast
he claimed that the bell had been rung
she seemed to think otherwise
(he thought the goat with the circle around its eye was a small donkey)
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calloused hands
the nightly meal of ingratitude
the lack of natural affection
(+) slipping in your use of pronouns
(+) I am me and not him
(+) I am me and not her
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Timothy Leary inspected the meat shipment
naked from the waist down
yes, there were red stains running down his legs
yes, he may have tested the meat in an unorthodox way
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finding himself sodomized in a Robert Frost poem
Leonard Cohen dropped all the crap about “going clear”
faded flowers and ancient fallen leaves in a visual salad
thank God for aphrodisiac ointment
when she asked why the lettuce was so slick
he replied, “It’s from Canada”
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twisted phony emotions
confident that his penis was a howitzer
he lubricated it with 3-in-1 oil
pinching the excess foreskin playfully
unchaperoned—he would have masturbated
possibly writing his name with the semen
****the old Devil books highlight giving your sins a signature
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rough toilet paper
a spider dangling
rescued from debt
(+) somewhere toss in the jewels:
bitten by the same mosquito for years
bitten by the same mosquito since the second grade
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raw peeled peters
in a large glass jar
drink some schnapps
and inhale some puffs off a cigar
pull out your journal of unfinished business
know that the power comes to you from beyond
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reverential towards the mysterious strength
in your erection
advertisements on television
other men with their store-bought virility
penile sawdust sold by weight
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————OH NO DADDY, THERE WILL BE NO DIVORCE————
the book-of-the-month send me the newest nothing
Memoirs of a Sex Life: Deliciously Innocent Red-Hot Sex
no infectious diseases—a small amount of discomfort
no crocodiles or large lizards or Robert Frost devotees
I thought I was safe—a sex life clean and honest
no need to contemplate physical functions
years of acts and thoughts—a compromise of harmony
——————————(+)—————————–
finding it difficult to be honest about the wearying repetition
not a single obscene word in our vocabulary
swindled to the point of rubbing one off
no real sex just counterfeit sex
sleeping in a bubble of rage
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nominate you for the Easter Island Blogger Award
answer a bunch of stupid questions
you nominate another batch
blog cancer
****impertinent to insinuate one more human
schizophrenics professing submission to COPYRIGHT
the new membership cards—what can I say ?
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in the movie of my life
the narrator will stammer
over the words
— the narrative will not make sense —
people’s understanding
limited to what they see
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room 404
doesn’t exist
401,402,403 & 405
I haven’t laboured over this
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brainwashed pornography
everyone involved
in some way or another
under influences strong then them
just people slamming meat into each other with a Vietnam soldier stare
1654679 views
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drive through a porno stage skidding on lube
soiled underwear stacked in corners sweaty men
greasy woman
hangers on in Guns N Roses tshirts
– dry throat thirst –
– there is no secret to sodomy
patience
and perseverance
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the only souvenir from school is an injection scar
I don’t know what to think about poetry
at the moment
I just put one word in front of the other
just like walking
sometimes it’s just robotic
sometimes it’s loose and I stretch my gait
procrastination through masturbation was my high school motto
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lunch time haircuts are always wonky
the barber drops cigarette ash down the back of necks
rush hour lunchtime sandwich blended and drunk
LEVIATHAN beckons
LEVIATHAN doesn’t wait
reinvented Bowie
waiting to be rediscovered by an unborn generation in 2036
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the barber shop a safe environment for men to be men
(but not gay)
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———————-OMG, THE MOVIE OF YOUR LIFE———————-
naughty, naughty Johnny Boy
cock-sure like James Bond
someone says, “ACTION”
and it is fornication
in less than two minutes
the audience will feel
even more empty and hollow
sex is almost non-existent
in their daily routines
they witness it on television
actors free from marriage
actors free to do as they please
(+) Johnny realized that he had deeper desires
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what a catastrophe
the maiming of the serpent
bleeding at the stem
man done cut his snake
such an act is impossible to understand
scientists run around in circles
no matter how tragic
the secret never breaks its bounds
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————————bare-legged cemetery sisters
grave prostitutes were proud of their wares
honeymoon fornication at a price
nothing counterfeit
dynamic vagina
straight from
the Old Testament
****even after death, the love swindle intensifies
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all those cruel people
who stuck their fingers
up your behind
now they are preying on one another
at work it is so difficult to breathe
suppressed scheming struggles
the hill-top is no longer safe
(+) memories of holding Jesus close on the summit
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was it you who liked to flash his sealskin overcoat ?
you paid a fortune for it and never let it out of your sight
when we would come to visit
you would hire monks to chat
I must admit I spied at your writing-desk
hoping I would spot nude photographs of MS. Curie
she liked a man with a bone
clean cut heads not wrinkled foreskins
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death cuddles death in sleep
deliver the goods, Baby Bird
creative suffering may look impressive
in a Robert Frost poem
but we do not welcome suffering
cart-wheel the suffering elsewhere
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during the flood
the hotel was 500 feet underwater
there were no survivors
———————-
now dust stabs dust
at night in the back alley
your mother watching from a window
clutching a crucifix
****another postcard from Kentucky, the baby is healthy
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excrement on the living room rug
Daddy snorts, “the little bugger will cash out to coronary thrombosis”
only cheap tickets and cheap socks
no real splendor to speak of
****his pet giraffe was just a goat with a circle painted around its eye
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you promised the gentleman at the hotel desk
that you would dance the tarantella
you promised a lot of weird things
****late at night you would argue with the lobby mirrors
——————————————
I was afraid to go outside
street people with scrapbooks
wanting to show me my mistakes
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YES, on the honeymoon night
surprised at the number of cabbages
and potatoes packed in her luggage
there were no mosquitos
but thousands of hungry gnats
what luck—gnat bitten on the marital organ
she said that they were fruit flies
but they were gnats with teeth
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with extraordinary skill
you poured out a thick soup of jism
it was perhaps the crowning moment of the day
(+) her private assessment————–boa-constrictor
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I carried a bass
I was a Paul McCartney impersonator in my early 20s
– I didn’t look like
him but I had the sideburns and the thumbs –
I got paid little
drunk guys told me they preferred John
Yoko impersonators ignored me
i am tone deaf
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never rhyme the teacher taught me
it forces the lines
and it’s not real
YOU DONT TALK IN RHYME
if you want rhyme
I can hire them in
I want the words to be real
poetry as a reflection
not words used to sell cars
or fast food talked over soft rock jingles
did the Beatles rhyme?
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piss so thick it looked like custard
the hole needed widening
– – to pass the piss test
he stole his sons urine —
the made an incision
the slow flow
of curdled milk
holding it in
the urinal shame
it always looked smaller in company
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decorative scribbles in margins
boredom time hieroglyphics
50 men in lecturer theatres couldn’t decipher the meaning of a fish drawn in a bottle
old time religion hijackng new words
the hand signals of the gangsters in the corner
– secret codes like a handkerchief hanging out of your right pocket at the gay bar
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imagine a world without Catcher In the Rye…
…the date and time of death has always been heavily debated…
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I remember that Paul would always say
“these guitars are ancient”
erections and overcoats
talk of Greece and her islands
the peculiar aroma
of a goat in love
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run around like a fool
crying for the poor
—————————lunatics and maniacs
poets in a circle, ridiculous men
capable of becoming almost anything
instinctive writing for more life to come
****make a wish and blow out the candle
****mystery character, yourself from the grave
****you are with yourself, it is okay to be naked
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you were shocked to discover that you were made up
of so many words—names and names and even fancy names
we suffer our little agonies
handsome in youth
lonely in the later years
relatives become outlines in a coloring book
humble colors—Robert Frost and his humble crayons
I refused to share his focus in earlier times
Robert Frost—the cabin boy on a pirate ship
I will refuse to share his focus tomorrow over coffee
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straight from the source
George Harrison
all things must pass
the isolation from the Beatles
looking up at the sky
the sweetness of being welcomed
welcome among those who echoed his own feelings
—————————
—————————
bombed-out people
hairdressers
partygoers
jism flavored with pistachios
reinforced rear doors
(+) the male vulva, the male vagina
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the librarian told me to listen to a song
it said someone met the devil in Helsinki
IMAGINE THAT!
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padded cells and somewhere to rest your head
– constrained bondage
– how many safe words can you remember?
– how many passwords do you have?
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the English language
spoken correctly from mouths with broken teeth
– like splintered boards of the ark –
teeth the colour of cold tea
– hotel lobbies of old magazines and plastic plants
where the door bangs in the wind
rooms available by the hour
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baby Tetris stacked in rows
the performance artist ate light bulbs and chewed pages of the bible –
– loaves of bread baked from vaginal yeast –
trying to make a point
falling on deaf eyes
blind monkey see no evil
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burdening you with words
that I should keep to myself
if I sent you empty pages would you weep ?
I like to think back when my puppy would kiss my fingers
having lived so long everything has passed time and time again
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blindfolded meat testing with tongue tip and fingers
– a poke here
– a poke there
a thermometer testing heat in cavity
strange practices at the loading bay
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we have been visited in the past
westward migration
and coming from the stars
numerous landing sites
the same tales
are we flies trapped in a jar?
an insert trapped in amber…
he pulled out his journal
he pulled it out in public
he was unapologetic it was empty
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engorged inflated blood through veins
he called it a battering ram
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oh no no divorce sir,
mummy and daddy tied up in knots
just a slow grind to the end
geological methods of erosion –
raindrops will destroy stone
overtime over
time overtime we climbed the mountain of the dead —
— joyful teenage boasts of sexual conquests were all lies —
there was no contact
no physical evidence
life in a sterile bubble
bouncing through darktown like it was the first day of summer
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copy this status and share with 50 friends – death awaits those who don’t –
please answer these 25 questions on your health and mental wellbeing
share this NOW to receive gusts from god
(do you remember chain letters?
pen pals?)
the coffee girl was human
all to human
(lipstick smudges on the rim)
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the movie of your life was factual blurred fiction sexy nonsense one hour thirty three minutes of escapism
shoot outs and slow motion car chases the audience connected by the mundane nature of it
—art as reflection
– –
—
the man in seat 47 left and smashed a mirror
he was to embarrassed to ask for a refund
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STRANGE PRACTICES ON THE LOADING DOCKS
( reminiscent of the Soviets spying )
angels from Heaven gathering evidence
ambiguous information
God is interested in more than bones,
hair, and feathers
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mechanized, depersonalized meat management
nuisances…poets taking Polaroids of meat arriving
rumors of homosexual meat
Day-Glo meat
(+) veils of secrecy
(+) romantic dreams of warming meat the natural way
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anyone who can place Timothy Leary
naked from the waist down
in a poem
well, send them to the kitsch factory
and tell them to screw with weak minds
innocent saps who consume narcotics
and peyote stereotypes
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sitting at a café in Greece
the boys asked you why
the lettuce was so slick
———————-poetry about postwar vegetables
about bombs falling in London at night
how employing modern art
as a scare tactic
did not work
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at the Greek café
one could have their sardines
straight from the can
or on a chalk white plate
cutlery was optional
( cutlery counted before the meal
and after the meal )
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Dark Town photographs were often out of focus
transparent citizens walked around in unwashed clothes
thoughts all over the place—no educated mental control
speechless with a cheap watch on each wrist
push and pull—otherwise non-descriptive
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scantily clad women in a circle around Robert Frost
more or less isolated—busy trying to interpret his message
an audience of readers—dark competing forces
hybrid genres of poetry
a library of details
no blunders
****sequencing detectives to build momentum
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investigating meat
you push a particular point of view
(+) expressed directly through words
an amusement park attitude
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your unpublished book was donated
for the construction
of the border wall
between the United States and Mexico
I saw a photograph of it
it was surrounded by cookbooks
and an autobiography of Malcolm X
the contrast between the colors
yes, that’s what I recall
the contrast between the colors
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Jesus showed me a photo of his automobile
it looked like a regular car
with a eating disorder
he said that it
was free of gravitational pull
I thought
Jesus, you are white-bread
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my first question:
why is there a Japanese bookstore
in our neighborhood ?
I am the only American in traffic
———-I have no phone cards for Peru
your friends go to a figure skating clinic
my friends smell like a sandal shop
ninety percent of America died in the past
I find myself walking around at night
with a flashlight
looking
for what is lost
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verbalize loneliness
bridge the vast chasm
polishing what you create
a sense of setting in a poem
problems with laxatives
the seductive promise balled up
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LISTEN, BABY BIRD
when we filmed the movie of your life
we hired “memoirists”
they lust to tell it all
they demand to tell it all
not just personal experiences
but the whole expanding ball of wax
day-to-day sensations that have a voice
reality beyond the confines of narrative
reality beyond the confines of ape narrative
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quick——name a signature genre of Dark Town
—————————————————
poets excited by first-person voice
gays in the bathroom on the interstate
friendly gestures from a choir of sodomites
hankering for the voices of passionate males
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my Victorian relative got turned on by a well varnished table leg
– uncontrollable urges at dinner time
– no need for thought nor flesh
– smooth mahogany
(no one would invite him around for food)
he could be found whittling in his shed most nights
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All those cruel people standing at the summit are now bankers and businessmen in flash suits
Throwing babies
Out of car windows
Without a thought to where they land
With a brown fingers dipped in to long
Stained and bleached
But it won’t show up on fingerprint tests
Like they are ghosts of those that never existed
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At the Curie house
guests were Asked to leave their shoes at the door and to undress
And shower under cold water
While observers took notes in erratic shorthand
And then they were playing with dirty towels and granted permission to enter her chamber
The monks were paid in black market lemonade
All nude photographs were turned
Breasts to the wall
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Death cuddles death
oh baby bird you are still in your nest
oh baby bird
the worm is beneath
And you was used as use in a poem online
written by 14-year-old in Virginia
and read out loud in an assembly of bored faces
Oh baby bird you’re better than that
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In the Hotel 500 fathoms deep guests wore wetsuits to dinner
The paintings on the wall dripped technicolour tears
And the food floated to the surface
The honeymoon night
with scuba gear was s kinky affair
the bell boy looked in through the cracks and described the actions to a friend
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(childhood memory)
– at a friends house and there was excitement on the floor
– “looks like your dogs done a shit”, I said
– “I don’t have a dog” –
cheap carpet tried to hide the mess
cheap carpet pattern
gave me a headache
just slices of bread for tea
the imaginary dog with black eyes
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I faced down all my mistakes
I had them tattooed on my back
I told her I can’t dance
I TOLD HER I WONT DANCE
– I have tfuel to pour on the fire
I didn’t even write this my hands
I spoke at my phone and it did the work
I am sliding sleepily down the face of it all
ice will be here
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the constant distraction
of people wanting to measure your dick
only guns and knives push them away
rough machismo
at a loss about where to turn
for images of self
****idealized images please
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(Baby Bird) CHAPERONED FROM BIRTH
mommy and daddy said NO to bohemia
card playing introverted and solitary
dandyism on the television
dandyism at the pool hall
no, not that pool hall
another pool hall
Valentino
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going to Dark Town for sex
where guilt has no voice
white people call the hole, vicious love
white Christians call the circle, vicious love
ever louder beats of the drums
“mommy, why is daddy so upset ?”
****the apes in the trees constantly toss clues
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something fell out of a relaxed womb
it was the start of an odd day
on the path to the hospital
one must pass the local prison
to be free to walk past corruption
that’s a moment wearing the Crown
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her entire harmonica in your mouth
ears to the door
waiting for the sound
would it be sweet music ?
on the honeymoon night
are you really a scientist in his laboratory ?
on top of lumpy pillows searching for the friction
“My God, I’ve signed away my soul for no reward”
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sensation after sensation
until the adhesiveness of sex
registers no more
———–cups of coffee and reduction after reduction
you didn’t get off at her stop
you were afraid someone was watching
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surprised that you didn’t stop me
at the mention of morphine
mental gratification
physical gratification
reducing oneself to a puddle
no longer afraid of rupture
****the family album is full of dust
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straitjacket underpants
the penis sleeve
wrapped around the entire body
(+) very odd
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sodomites stealing into the social scene
living the contemporary drama
exchanging speech in real time
voices of praise for the athletic
nothing pessimistic or morbid
nothing about the degradation of poverty
skeletons picked clean
a peculiar white
—————
—————
sell them damn bones to stupid tourists
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when money means nothing
when you’re in the same room
with Rihanna
the meth is really dynamite
they laugh at me
because I feel so good
the anguish-laden paralysis
thrown out the window
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the process of becoming derelict
(+) inevitable
Bob Dylan and the world of sorrow
heavy-footed brakes on death
citizens stumbling
unforgivable sins
underfoot
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make a wish
and break a leg
snapped the bone in half
three month recuperation period (at least)
– feeling like James Stewart
the camera round your neck is an anchor
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George is my fathers name
(name all the George’s…)
(my sweet lord)
the fourth point of a square
one side of a cube
(some of the mikes:
Moore
Nesmith
McDonald
Myers)
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people were upset at the display
Mapplethorpe photographs of hamburgers
carcinogenic slabs of meat
presented to the customer
in the center of brown buns
(+) community standards
(+) prurient interest
(+) patently offensive
a group of young people
threw stones at quasi-conservatives
daily life was unexplainable
Amish men chewing tobacco
their community
a warehouse of simple sins
I told them not to go to town
I told them to kill the sinners
any witness to the outside
any trace of the outsiders
(+) no need to deny the Old Testament
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thanks for the list of genders
——who knew there were so many——
thanks for the info about males and females
I didn’t realize that men lived to dominate females
living arrangements and damage control
warning labels on everything
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_______luxury should be morally repugnant
above a subsistence level
(+) what they lack
(+) what others have
at night with your head on a pillow
you suddenly hear people next door
talking about undeserved income
even with high-pitched jazz
one could hear self-justification
being tossed about
social injustice wasn’t so bad
hell, social injustice was okay
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day-to-day life
what would it feel like to be a witness ?
birthday dancing girls shimmying in beaded skirts
leafless trees in the yard of Marie Curie
science labeled as either pretty or scenic
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semi-polite people at the wedding
small talk about car chases
almost nothing said
about recreational sex
there were polluters
resistant polluters
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uneasy and ever-changing
constantly interrupted by flashbacks
themes of oppression and spent actors
the guys from the past in a single performance
****small boys that failed at learning to govern themselves
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taught at an early age
that Peter crucified upside down
was constantly whispering the truth
words chewing on ears like angry dogs
————————————-
————————————-
the earth was rent open
and then there was Leviathan
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the colour photo was vivid
the blood was the reddest red she’d ever seen
she walked to work
towards the coffee shop thinking “did david Bowie ever wash the dishes?”
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I keep getting spam emails from the SAVE MIKE campaign –
– I told them to stop I told them to stop –
I would love blank emails
not pictures of all the Mikes
(literally every famous Mike…)
– I’ve lived so long I could name half of the Mikes but I didn’t want them saved
– send me empty pages and I’ll fill ’em
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in conversational poetry
everything is relative to everything else
Marie Curie with her didactic bits
crazy in a house of phallic worshippers
she constantly confessed her own death
them who were holding hands
and them that weren’t
it was all those tiny dots
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Marie Curie asked God for a serpent
and God gave her those tiny
little birds spinning
now her blood
and bones
black
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suitcases in the brain
all colors the beauties
the core-flames of sex
a dribbling dong
Moses up there on the hill at night
watching the lucky ones sneak away
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intellectual idea wanted for a poem
nothing unsavory—nothing ready-made
Marilyn Manson comes over
with a color photo of Moses
standing on top of a hill
watching his people slip away in the dark
flames leaked from their genital openings
they were turning to the scoundrel
they were erasing the Lord
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in the human marketplace
what is the value of a MIKE ?
at the workshop they talked
about being compartmentalized
precarious points of tension
(+) poetry that deals with sanitation
and waste management
(+) poetry that deals with a real living human
not some giant rodent in Brazil
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poetry that mentions
Day-Glo fluorescent pigments
in the crotch area of Marie Curie
free-flowing semen from dozens of men
the gestural vocabulary of a woman scientist
(+) the jism would congeal into thick, free-flowing
sculptural masses that Marie would bombard with electrons
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the wetlands of Marie Curie
site-specific poetry
thoughts worded in her diary
emphasized plastic dimensions
(+) participatory involvement with dongs
(+) lying down, standing, swinging in the air
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Marie Curie with her open ears
look inside
and you will see
a lifetime of accumulations
various urges and motivations
————————
————————
the circulations of birthdays
colorless shadows
the stasis of a perpetual past
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cancer was a souvenir
participation
and then a direction
very different
—————-the Curie Museum
a hard exterior and a soft belly
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jointly with the capacities of fellow poets
but not the moist fecal matter of lust
a legitimate workshop
with the lights on
I asked to be excused
when sodomy was introduced
“insight outside life as a hole”
(+) cutaneous excitement
(+) psychophysical pressure
(+) sexual signatures
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at the loading bay they tried to sneak things onto the Ark –
– things that weren’t on the manifest
– someone would be waiting at the end of the line to take stock
the devil is in the details
the numbers needed to add up
God loved maths
the only real truth
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mechanised meat
two tablets to be taken every four hours
failure to do so may result in side effects including
but not exclusive :
the shakes
memory loss
clairvoyances
over sensitive meat could be seen crying in darkened corners
weaponised meat air dropped behind invisible lines
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she always got Leary confused with Ken Kesey – all those old white men look the same she said
–
– she thought Timothy Leary was in Back to the Future
she thought she saw him ride a skateboard
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the bombs did fall and the kids played in the aftermath of puddles and bricks
shoes with no laces
no lettuce seen for 4years
fake meat served between fake bread
you couldn’t grow fat in them days but you could get angry
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at the Greek cafe the coffee was so thick spoons stood up
erect like a flag pole
– on plates were dead fish
dead fish that kept eyeing the customers
– no need for cutlery
here they had HUGE FINGERS
(at school a teacher asked him would you rather have tiny hands so couldn’t pick anything up
or giant hands so you crushed everything you touched?
he didn’t answer then
and he couldn’t answer now
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for all Darktown photography
you needed permission from all the citizens to have their identity capture on film
–many refused
– outstanding warrants
bodies in suits but it all seemed empty
a suit hanging on a ghost
two watches but neither told the time
my God, what can we do with these people?
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I did push a particular view
I had an agenda but I’ve given up
– I’m not sure people were listening
– I’m not even sure that people care
–
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a wall of books erected page by page – the bible section
the Hardy Boy avenue
the Bell Jar walkway
biographies of people you’ve never heard of
a thousand pictures of Malcom X looking at you
cookbooks with curry fingerprints
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Jesus car ran on spiritual fuel
– he moved to suburbia and asked his neighbours to call him MIKE – he parked the car in his garage and just sat behind the steering wheel
looking ahead
looking through the windscreen
looking through the wall
looking forward forever
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Japanese bookstore selling American books imported from Taiwan – torches free when you buy 3 books
– sandal wood in the sandal shop –
90% of Americans couldn’t point to America on a map
even if you shine a torch on it they point to Brazil
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the laxative build up
the dam will burst
the pain then the pleasure
the joy of release
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the film of my life will just be a cartoon of people stepping on gardening rakes
and them hitting them in the head
– on a loop
– on a loop for 6hrs
– art house stuff not ear wax nonsense
when you enter the cinema your’ll be handed a scratch and sniff pad –
the aroma of my life
reality in the smell
a film critic said it moved him to tears
like catching his foreskin in his zipper
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signature genres: heroin scat
homosexuals with their secret codes
I once had to run for my life due to how I tied my scarf
–miscommunications in a world of secrets
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thick jism primordial soup served at the hotel restaurant
Melba toast
the hard crack of bones
the Dali Lama didn’t know which way to look
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the Beatles never played Greece and if they did they sent lookalikes
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no need to measure it
I tell you what I tell them
it’s small and useless –
– take your pick
a small mushroom or
Kojak in a roll neck –
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pool hall Valentino
the aroma of cheap aftershave and chalk
– flick knife pockets –
greased back hair in a pompadour
the voice of his teacher in his head YOU’ll NEVER AMOUNT TO NOTHING BUT THE LADIES WILL LOVE YOU –
pool hall Valentino comes alive at night
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dark town getting ready for white Christmas
– a parade of papier-mâché reindeers
– a wrapped box that contains a clenched fiat –
snow isn’t falling it’s been banned by the municipal council –
I’m far behind with my correspondence but I can say I’ve never sexual harassed women at work
one in a million
mummy hates daddy kids the reason are multiple and complex but don’t let it burden you
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something fell from the womb
it dangled
like a parachutist hung in a tree
– the triangulation of
hospital
school
prison
the full stop of the cemetery
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harmonica lady squeaked when she ran
– at night she snored the blues
– I hated sleeping next to her
my foot tapped constantly
— at night I’d squeeze her nose till her cheeks went red
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addicted to derivatives of heroin at least three times
– that lazy gait and half closed eyes
mental gratification came in small waves and yes
I was afraid of rupture
I was afraid of seepage
I carried duct tape, glue and a gun JUST IN CASE
you need to understand
I’m an ex-scout
I’m always prepared
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pissing in your own arse
the dangers of straightjacket underpants
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sodomites carried round pictures of the royal family in their wallets
– regal crowns and condoms
– they carried little for poetry
they good emotional about food
they cried over their raw fish
—-a peculiar white
so peculiar it was black —
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Rihanna or Beyoncé
different sides of a small coin
–bitch fights about who will be the first to appear on a stamp
–they won’t touch meth (behind closed doors they inject in dark crevices)
–oh pity the famous ones
the discard them for another one
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the process of becoming derelict is called TIME
erosion by rain and rust
& they wandered around the old dilapidated factory which was being used in the movie as a metaphor for death they took photos and of course
shared them of Instagram
— Bob Dylan doesn’t have an email address
he doesn’t even own a fucking computer
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they hid all the manuscripts in rusting filling cabinets
others buried pages in their garden but the words rotted off the page – McDonalds commissioned Anne Leibovitz to photograph Big Macs
– MAKE THE MEAT LOOK SEXY –
vegetarians complained but the cows didn’t
—–the new man in town worried the young housewives —
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people given the freedom to choose
—-some wanted to be male, others female
men with breasts
woman with balls
bald ladies with hairy armpits
short men with clitoris
—i read the guidebook and was told to destroy it after —
I threw it from the window
wrapped tobacco in pages 56-89 tobacco and spent hours smoking it down
—girls in blue and boys in pink —
people can be what they want
the white man next door told me he wanted to be identified as a strong black woman
who am I to deny?
the labels on everything will eventually lose their stick
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EAT THE RICH
EAT THE RICH
at night you could hear the fibres of your pillow move
—EAT THE RICH with chopsticks
—only wearing socks once
10 toilets in a house
how many empty beds?
it was a myth only the rich liked jazz albums
a myth with a grain of truth
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the flashbacks constantly plagued his waking daydreams
uneasy memories of the shipwreck and the plane crash
– he did think who would play him in the movie of his life?
– art house comedian at the butchers
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the grass around her skeleton didn’t grow
buried in barren land
not fit for bones
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a brain full of filling cabinets
-school memories, June – August 1986
– favourite albums
– conspiracies theories of North Korea
– etc etc
the lucky ones were mainly white
and born into privilege and wealth
(an ugly chasm was beginning to open up, nasty and brutish)
sneaking away, a few hours after the curfew
–
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the new measure : e.g. he weighed as much as 4 Mikes
– (the people would just have to get used to it )
– the results were back: to many Mikes
build a wall to keep them out
– KEEP THEM OUT
(a post card of you riding a giant rodent through a favela in Rio)
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SELF-CONSCIOUS OF DAYDREAMS
wearing a machine—carrying a machine
granting permission
you know what I mean
the yard full of novelists
life spent with no recovery
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what does God know about lungs ?
———————————-
He’s on fire
His enemy is on fire
atoms, electrons, agents of force
(+) Marie Curie made her own hairspray
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the wetlands of Curie were growing stale
brittle & dry
it gave off a radioactive glow
—she scratched 10 times a day
–spent a fortune on medication
–no relief at night
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all visitors to the Curie house had to sign disclaimers
–they all had to turn up with lawyers
–it took the edge of the day
–so looked for loopholes but the disclaimers were watertight
an ark of words
–the souvenir shop glowed
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attached to machine that breathes and beeps
permission was signed over
waiver signed
2018 people become android
a real slow death
creeping like rust
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god didn’t need lungs
he rose again missing organs
analogy of fire
that religious sting
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small talk about cars
and money and failed attempts at interior design
— mild sex talk as the night wore on —
one drink brave
eight drinks depraved
talk of bruised kness and regret
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Twitter discovers that it has a clitoris
—————————————-
—————————————-
implications of the Big Ball theory
primordial fireballs
the sun had a twin
no doors
only
a fancy hatch
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a hot hatch
fiery
a funny thatch of hair
the man in the red hat is waiting in the wings
bouncing back like a lead weight
fuck him into next week*
let him go play 18holes
*not literally
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the first time you saw a funny thatch of hair
on a vulva
later—-it was a tiny radio
that grabbed your attention
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the radio
a faint voice coming through the speaker
sounded like someone crying
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it was Frank Zappa crying
witness to the complex machinery
hidden in Jerusalem
where childhood is ripped apart
and sold as pet food
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tears at the beauty of architecture
walking around the shopping mall
a modern cathedral
the lines of the metal joists
the elegant functionality of it all
the pet food
this Soylent Green
feed a fever
starve a cold
the old illnesses are coming back
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resurrect Charlie Watts
just to hear a decent drum beat
the fierce condemnation of Yoko Ono continues
her existence challenged
her bones broken
Rock and Roll History
chronicles Yoko’s wickedness
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Charlie Watts wasn’t from Watts, New York
He wasn’t a Watts Prophet
North London Wembley Twin Towers he travelled the underground 78inch records in hands
dreamt of being a black blues man from the Mississippi delta
born the wrong side of the tracks
born the wrong side of the ocean
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perhaps, Charlie was just a puff of smoke
no more blue black men
colored people turned
tan brown coffee
homogeneity
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