based on Either you are in the light or you are out, a poem by RM O'BRIEN (http://rmobrien.info/)
We will either sip from the light or go out
spellcheck is preventing my mistakes
so it seems to me that spellcheck is out
there are new tougher loves blessing me with pain
and yet I belly up feel like broken egg basket!
your old face doesn't match up with your identification
we'll have to really scrutinize these numbers and even yet
it is not guaranteed that you'll comprehend what it is they are doing
Hold on, I need to stop, ask for directions, and fill this poem with more sad
songs
they're as acrid as petroleum and lusting after them can
make you just as sick
but c'est la vie like old people say
can't beat the father/motherhood of
earthbound beast
in space we are
the handicapped
everyone is presented with the
opportunity of one life time
If one starts early there's a chance
the deadline won't come with bitter bullshit
trained on your alertness, instead you'll
pass on a mountain peak leaping like
a mountain goat with scotch
in his beard
On earth you're height and fat content are numbers
far too small to be noticeable from the vacuum of space
You are either the thing that eats or is eaten by
Blessed is the fat content bestowed upon this other thing
Blessed is the television show that creeps into forgetting
THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN is closed for repairs
God is so depressed right now that he acts like 6 billion
people trapped on an unknown planet bitching
Real Genius is on Netflix
In infant America my friends would have to worry less
about parking, but more about being eaten by wilderness
Blessed are the porks and chickens that meet us halfway
Blessed are the brightly colored vessels that
adorning the future of archaeology
dazzle with their coke and pepsiness
Bless the sacred sludge that god has birthed
as blessings
Bless god the curse
into the sad hearted pod
out clawing with love at our teeth
our one claim is that we
know to love
or enough to love so that love
can create opportunities
for better food
or to love out of love's own
loving loveliness leaving
shortly or its now or neverness
bite down hard
and leave the marks
in a photo by your coffin
(even then a pile of molecules, who knows whats what)
If your question is does the universe love me?
the answer is Yes and No
shout both out as loud as you need to
and when you ask some other
thing to marry you,
be prepared to hear one, but in reality
it may in loving naturalism be also No
but now the question is
who am I?
Eat or eaten by
scream
yes
and
no!
shout and throw rocks
at the lack of light!
ask it anything
loudly, abruptly,
personal questions
lead to personal
answers!
|
Brushing your Teeth
brushing your teeth
is life, the rest
is too beautiful
to notice for most
big booming business
throbbing in their concrete centers
the infinite dimension of things
meeting between them
brushing like virgins
Is the thing we want
'Happiness'? if so
let's just call it
a 'thing'.
|
ELLIPTICAL NON BONER
THAT IS BONER AGAIN
|
Fluid Movement
The sound of things is fluid movement
The sound of things is fluid MOVEMENT
The sound of jealous love is a scaly
dragon's breath that makes fall
flat the hand that beckons!
my flesh mobile
ghost of a soul
you meat of the present
it macho ownership
of hot fantastic love
cast across other bones
this feeling or unfeeling
is or is it really
The sound of things as fluid movement
The sound of things is fluid MOVEMENT!
The sound of jealous love is rippling
the sacred bedding of the rich
and ultra lovely
but it also writhes in my least
wealthy heart as a mass of
television antennas
moving about
in fluid
hurting
movement
building
loving
hurting
building
loving
balding
dying
The sound of things is fluid movement
The sound of things is fluid MOVEMENT
from the shoe horn to the shoe
the sumptuous tail
of desire that ties end to end
yet is perpetually undone
the untied shoe at a
busy intersection
the minor key
the bow undone
the sound of things is fluid movement
have a magnet made of this
the sound of things is fluid movement
get an airbrushed t-shirt of this
the sound of things is fluid movement
make this into a piss in the snow
the sound of things is fluid movement
cleverly hide this and find again later
the sound of things is fluid movement
|
|
I give up control
and am given
a blossom
|
In our union
In our union
we join time and space
in our union
we elaborate on the eternal
in our union we exchange this experience
in our union we gain the trust
of that which exists beyond our reach
in our union we dream of existing forever
in our union we unite the book of heaven
with heaven in actuality
in our union
we are the mysterious
non ego that carries
in every cell of all that is living
and the infinitesimal vestiges left
in that of the nonliving
in our union
we are the power of the ever lasting
in our union
we cradle this fragile ephemera
in a bowing nest of emptiness
in our union
we transcend politics
in our union
we explain in futile mannerism
with words and poems and numbers
the truest form of life
in constant separation
in our union
we expand on closeness
in our union
we uphold nothing
while in balance
lies absolutely
E V E R Y T H I N G
|
The fear
of wind
that sings
like us
|
LIFE
PEOPLE ASLEEP
THROUGH ALL THIS
|
ONLY STUFF
GO HUNTING
EAT FOOD
PRAY TO SOMETHING
FOCUS ON YOURSELF
AS A MASS OF
LIVING SPOTS
AND A RIVER
WILL FLOW
THROUGH THEM
I EAT A
NON VEGAN
BREAKFAST
AND TRY
TO FEEL
BETTER ABOUT
LIVING IN THE UNITED
STATES OF AMERICA
EVERYONE SPEAKING
AS IF SOLID
A TINY
MARK
DROPS
A MITE
A MOTE
SENDING
MESSAGE
SHE LOVES EVERYONE
AS IN MORE THAN 1
LOVE IS SPREAD
SO THINLY SLICED
LIKE A PRISONER'S
MORTAL REMAINS
SHAVED WITH LASERS
FROZEN IN SPACE
AS A CONCEPT
LOVE IS ALSO A CONCEPT
AND WE ARE LEFT
WITH ONLY STUFF
|
|
Everything
wish i had
everything
then wish
to have time
to look at
everything
and use
everything
and in using
everything
I stop looking
and start
feeling
which is
maybe not
so bad
but in feeling
I use my
time on
earth quickly
burn it up
bodiless
from start
to finish
|
Remember my
feet on this rug
my new mantra
|
The sounds outside
Are they new
or just sound
|
|
the corners of the world
that are visions of all
the world's greatness
in peak to the one
point
those few men
that have seen from
Australia
to Mongolia
in a few
eyelashings
very few
have seen a whole
that whole
they could have
yelled every
stereotype
and only
be heard sweetly
or not at all
man has no words
to tie together
this is out of every
sheriff's jurisdiction
this valley has no mountain
with no fire and pissing deer
no man drinking either
cooking corn
over spatial debris
these mountains
have no father
only caretakers
one is a basket
another is a casket
the sun in beams
over shenandoah
from day one
year of wonder,
awe and chemistry
who could even
come up with
such a crazy
thing to
see from
space
|
go in that room
freak out
eat a box of cereal
no milk
show me the old man in me
waiting to stay put
always touching the wrong
button- a demographic
collapsing
no more slimer shit
to sell
the rubber band
folded
is a universe
unfolding
be here to catch
your favorite part
and wait
it's gone
|
you are dead
how many haircuts
did you get
|
|
Response to statue piece by RM O'BRIEN (http://rmobrien.info/)
sometimes pieces of the future look like statues
a person looking at a statue looks for something waiting for them
a statue is a word stacked on a word
stacked on a word stacked on a word
this is people
and from the moon you can clearly see earth
is a person with people-esque qualities
blue, cold, hot, aware, bland, tidal, inferential
I N F U R I A T I N G
I N C I E N D I A R Y
C O N T R A D I C T O R Y
C A G E L I K E
KAGEL
Exercise is so difficult to keep up
and my bagel just isn't hot anymore
and jesus fucking christ
this is poppy seed
I said raisin fucking raisin
word stacked on a word stacked on a word
stacked on a word stacked on a word
P A R A G R A P H S
A R E
L I K E
A L L T H E O C E A N Sand
the countries are people who are statues
and everything moves around them
but the universe seems at its center
O C A S I O N A L L Y
Now I see that the earth is not
a person any more than we
are a cell is an atom moving
in my left hand
stirring in my sleep
to reach for a bosom
The world is that person
you are that person
because it feels like everything
S T O P P E D
|
PRAYER
you're in
my gold ear
my good nature
honey in the pot
my blootooth
of who's who's
he who is the money
is always money
wearing white
flight
was once an
honest endeavor
and now
big cylinders
with wings on
their wallets
can smooth over
a field
and slam
into birds
my hair moves
on it's own
and you're in my
hatchet hand
|
Goodbye to touch,
In lights and ribbon in.
Sour Grapes.
|
|
CAT
ALSO MY FOOD
COMES FROM BOX
|
|
my egyptian cheese sandwich
my strange custom for future iterations
of lonely heartbreak
my future boyhood
teeth all fucked up
prisms for eyes
and lizard breath
space the gentle bowl
my bushy mane and
mushy brain
the winding roads
all led to sex
I'm a human
again
|
|
Winter and I
Of all flat prestige misgivings
given to rusted fixable earth
my dream is here with a slice
I sit provoking notes from my fingers
reading, skyping al dente
and everything always
sits in this blank
room with me
the space inside all
the O's i've ever written
a wave forming from o to o
oh atonement autmumn mint!
a brand new cape awaiting white
finally parting ways a wave
to wave two waves of grits
to some lower earth
and boom it is
Winter
and
I
|
Delicious Honesty
It's not easy
but what is easy
nothingness
is easy
being is harder
I heard a child
call her grandmother
an "old-ass"
what delicioius honesty
would the devil
know he is the devil?
if he could change
would he still
be the devil?
I can change no
superman!
here from where
I'm standing
I can't cahnge nothing
I can make a sound
at night
when everyone
is asleep!
I could prod and poke
until the folds came unfoldeed
and I SAW A GREAT BIG DEER
CARCASS SITTING IN A PILE OF NOTHING
LET'S STOP A MOMENT
TO TURN THE CAPS LOCK OFF
|
We have rockets that will destroy entire cities and they're like a button away to
the president and those rockets will blaze over and frame a body on a sidewalk
in living grease and this gigantic weapon is real and it is always ready to go and
destroy an entire country, isn't that fucking insane? Imagine a quiet forest in fog
before the invention of man!
|
planet earth
someone arrested
you screaming
|
My Race Poem
My race poem
They way you are
isn't american
they see it as a
grey brown friendship
with some exceptions
here and there like
could care less if you came here
on such and such day
to watch my white thing happen
that happens everyday
but all carelessness aside
Princesses and Lochness
monsters are white TOO
and I feel like
Apple Pie
so in a wy
they're is no
America
|
Lonesome drone
that left the nest
to die alone
|
A quiet dinner
for two
iphones
|
I will clean when there is
too much to clean
and I'll look and say this fucking
sucks and I'll wish I had gone
swimming to work my gills
and big tail
|
Oh Teeth,
that first tug
left my mouth dreaming
that you'd smile forever
|
Spilled beer
a great impression
is now ruined
|
paper fell on the floor
will write
tomorrow
|
get away with that hat
you thing with big blue
eyes
|
A web ad
for montana
with a moose
grazing
in a window
|
Imagine facing a cave man
that looks like you but
is as wild as an animal
and you are just your dad
quiet in the sun
|
Apple Brown
Had a feeling
I could sense
when all the little cells
in my apple were either
dead or alive
and the death
translated
into a rubberyness
with the living
meaning
still having
a snap to them
I left my apple
out at around 11
by now it has
browned
and it doesn't
taste the same
|
Tonight
I listened to
Cypress Hill
very faintly
so that my
roommates
wouldn't
listen
|
Crack & Eggs
How many things
can you crack like an egg
to reveal a mysterious
giggling concept
maybe presupposed but a
milky (godly) yellow
running hysteric?!
What's my magic
middle
absent of cynicism?
let's suppose
that it is a cork
and that fire is perhaps
the only way in
then what a poor
human heart
jiggles in my
man tit
for an indeterminate
amount of thumps
my love is coco frio
what a cold difficult
coconut we drink from
I'm just made of the
same old boring
charcoal
9 billion pennies
melting reaching
their useless
other form
some smart someone
should help me
put this in perspective
because I don't know anything
I don't pretend
to know everything
reader, come over
sometime for an
awkward silence
|
Pissing Mouse
Pissing mouse
is a drawing
on the internet
Beautiful pissing mouse
drawn live on
chatroulette by
'They' who said
it was so ugly
but beautiful drawing
of mouse done for me
Tuesday 9:43PM
you say it's like
a pissing mouse
Pissing mouse
is a drawing
on the internet
|
I saw a Terminator
face on my
Computer
|
Netflix loading icon
like a spaceship hovering
in the night
tiny dots of light
through dark cotton sheets
we watch the Office
in peace & naked serenity
almost sleeping
|
Men travel
to ancient 7-Eleven
burial ground
|
All day
chasing lights
on my glasses
|
A stereo plays
to the air
in a room
|
Try
Trying not to romanticize
trying to remain anonymous
eat falafel outside
overhearing conversation
about battles
trying to zone out
trying to be a smart dumb
with aplomb
trying to ooze out
naturally
trying out new google thing
trying out cold hunger
Not swimming in winter
pick flowers from all my cracks
hokey silly partial births
thrashing
in my insecurity
all of my belongings
beep and sing songs to me
Richard Brautigan in my
subconscious
says 'just here to ruffle
your feathers, hombre'
hands me a baseball
and I shoot it clean up
into the sun's chest
I put on some shoes
and run for no reason
Try to make it home
I guess to my heart
How crazy to just
start living in
somebody else's shoes
Trying to draw
a snake in the snow
for fun
|
ICE MAN
I've been lost in my head
for 6000 years
everything I know is gone
where is my pencil?
I am a bone tossed
in the ocean
though from what animal?
these big life questions
are big dead questions too!
there they are
filling up dirt
all the questions
& what happens when you live?
all those corpses afraid to answer
rattling, putting on hats
donating bones to science
saying hello
and getting drunk
dying in a snowstorm
reborn as videotape
and liquified leather
little seeds in their scrotums
could be planted
and get us all sick
with 6000 year old microbes
|
In a nineties movie
you are tying
a bow
|
In some old century
I can Imagine you
speaking near a candle
|
He Man blinks
and shoots
Darth Vader
|
Nobody said Snow
and all this snow
and music goes woosh
and baby birds blur together
|
I did the like pump
'Yes' thing like when
you celebrate-
like two times
before song actually
peaked
and I felt
very let down
|
why do capital letters
conspire against me?
oh my god how how hot
this hard drive is just scared me have to death
like exploding or something
|
Ikea
I made up a dance where
like I'm pushing air
& in another I pull two giant tusks
and I become a ferris wheel
my arms swinging with
limp wrists at the ends
like ham bones making big circles
I stop to type wikipedia
in with my pinky
& thumb thru my music library
then I do a thing where I look
at products on my desk real
up close & can tell just how much
photoshop went into them
I stop to think and hear a pin drop
it is so so quiet between songs
so I sit wilting
my brain coming back to me
after long trip out to the county
thinking of big deals at Ikea
cups for a quarter WOW
the next few minutes are spent
in internal dialogue
discussing whether a beat
I made on my knuckles was
a hip hop beat
or what
|
My drawing sort of
looks like you
|
A woman speaks into her cellphone
at an angle looking as if
it is glued to her face
|
Cashier at Subway
drops my receipt
yells sorry real upset
don't worry
It's OK I said
I caught it
|
iPods must think me dead
with my finger cold
|
Its just a job
you feel like shit
you DO feel like shit
|
Get me a show on TV
for smashing my stuff
|
New Red Book
New red book
empty waiting for my ooze
my baby word fluid
I'll heave my bits
like trillion leaves
and lay them in bricks
on these silent lines
then make interesting smoothie
soft pretzel comparisons
like about christianity
& fear of a European dad
or sweet baby's breath
compounded life
into composted mud
& water and tea
and how sometimes I
wake up pissed off
and try to do something about it
like have fancy ceremony
fight the urge to scribble
on my wall & draw big dick joke
for all to see as old
and veiny as great wall
|
Basil Fly
Why my compulsion to save everything
tonight night of all nights
find dead fly next to pillow
where I place face
think I should throw it out
but then just save it
there now next to clock
reading eight forty four
this fly came here to die
on a friday night
fly cemetery this is not
go fly you, what's up?
you really dead or only little
missing leg and all
you move when I breathe out
maybe I should place you
as text to page
on piano middle C
or F for Fly
D for dead!
maybe you get played as a rest
with brief stopping grief
and tilt of the head in ceremony
your death is not an omen
it just happened on my bed
where you meant to clean
your teeny collywobbling
buzz face
you yourself knowing
your whole hairyness and
length of living
buzzing some other place
to suck an egg
is it so crazy
to put you in my basil?
|
Meteor Shower
Meteor Shower
like big ole grand bag of minnows
Me suddenly surfing the ribs of a fishy scaled earth
here i am shaking vigorously
at the thought of swimming out to the woods
or green bushy county in rural maryland
maybe see the feet of a loved one past
dangling swimming up to heaven
to see the whole sole wading in dewy charm
looking up like I looking down into me
and you look where you look
to see what's popping with big round surprise
it's the birthday of this space wave
come to meet our finger tips
was thinking I would bring food
and maybe some wine
big gorgeous grin too
leave my sagging heart
in a brown paper package
somewhere funny or ironic
tired of my black and white movie thing
I want to come to life!
I want to press my face in your chest night
Can I touch myself near you
as if you are an extension of my crotch
you meteor shower
you're like a fat full belly all glowing
|
Dufus
As an adult, sometimes I think
my cellphone rings and I almost
picking it up everytime
Feel like real Dufus
I once found a pair
of Silver Oakleys at Disney World
Orlando -sometime before teens
& stuck them to my face
to feel America's little hands
clasp my hot and fresh eyeballs
I drew O's on them
Then I think went on a ride
or can't remember like 19th century headache
but I saw a family talk to another family
away by several meters
on a Television screen in booth like
a future bean dildo diving bell
I could have snorted
all that freedom.
|
Pumpernickel
Today I thought of a beginning to a movie
in which a woman dies ashes scattered
in Central Pacific
where they are eaten by whales and
all swimming things eating little dust
you find the secret of the Universe
is you end up in downer place if fed
to a whale or dark, foreboding ocean
and then damn, how do you get that news
down to the living
here thinking of pumpernickel?
Haven't come up with middle or end
but maybe give it a happy ending
to boost revenue
A Jonas brother could play a ghost
or spirit of black comedian
trapped in a dog body
|
I sat playing games
with my eye and pencil
and a truck gurgled
at the gutter
|
What's up with Glasses
Remembering new york
dark underbelly basement bar
wearing suit jacket feel like big stuff
me and Molly, Benny and Jessica
drinking -drunk already but going strong
Molly leaning in to say man staring
so I look and macho me asks
what problem he's having
and he say nothing, what's up with me?
molly telling me to shut up, I say only talking
not wanting to fight, just like wording
turns out he wondering whats up with glasses
then me remembering Benny and I
and Molly too all wearing thick rims
he clean and spikey haired new york boy
as of recently -wondering whats up with glasses
Benny explains it as a statement of individuality
conversation taking a turn from aggression
to him asking where my body
was born cause it looks dark
I say Cuba he yell and say he Spanish
and uncle lived in cuba for some time
we wiggle out some Spanish words a while
& end up talking more
and he actor in some play in NY
and was studying us like primates
for whatever role he thinking of at the moment
he explains no aggression intended
but just studying us
he bold and outgoing and shiney
like new york actor
but then while later
he seem sad and molly say
why don't you talk to him?
he look lonely here alone
I say stop making me sad
you're making me sad
he did look it, but I don't know
I cant do anything
from where I'm looking
|
Famous Ed's Toronto
Go to Toronto
Seeking place to shit
find famous Ed's
World Famous Bargain Centre
3 stories of wal-mart slime
sitting in bins of glass and mirrors
somehow find bathroom
was named washroom third floor
washroom feel like cramped shit farm
Sad sneezing people all mined
of their shit and wheezing
I bow my head rubbing temples
Hole in stall reveals
a man's hairy arm stuck out and washing
I finish up and leave and forget quickly
get lost in obnoxious fun house
headshots of actors ive never seen ever
plastered where I need to walk
and where unquestionably
my eyeballs seek nothing
I trapped in sad old hollywood almost snap
woman points some which way mumbling
I almost run where she points
with near baby fear
expelled into street
like a dreaming scrooge
naked christmas goose
bobbing in the cold
lit up in the dreary
|
Dance Party in Toronto
I spill my beer like Chevy Chase
I think someone stole my wallet
A friend looks like a hoodlum in the dark
I am sneering now I know
Mouth dont know smile but teeth do
I Promise
Everyone engorged red here
In the future parties will last
only fifteen minutes
Flash photography makes me nervous
A blonde girl kisses a black girl
-A man several moments later
I got tired
I left to sleep in white wall gallery
I piss and wash hands real zen like
bathroom with quiet night time mall
WASHROOM feel
paranoid of blood
pouring from walls abruptly
I try sleep like boring alternative
Awake like hoot owl creeping sounds
still reeling from yesterday's fright
last night Sarah had night terror
and we all friends sleeping in same room
rose pounded in the heart
certain murder for sure
I sit in dark ex industrial building
with mind of flesh ripping demon
like maybe hell was real
and I found way there
I keep still and why dont we
figure it out in the morning
-we do and all have good laugh
at breakfast time we explain all
but glad to sleep
in underwear weather and white box
two big wooden beams cradling ceiling
I sleep by one
reaching like tree trunk to high place
happy at feet where maybe only
good things blooming slowly.
during dance party in Toronto
white blossom breaks open
concealed in mist
phallic man pushes further up a girl's dress
his burying hand in white snow tights
upper thigh center of her
she leaning back for hitting perfect middle place
I choose sleep like boring buddha
forgot to brush teeth
they will also
|
Bus to Toronto
What are viruses and
why do they seek
to destroy us?
this light of the moon
is perfect and all night
the only light I end up needing
but ipod backlight
is praying loudly too
glad to be spending
hours of my night
in cold night and blanket
cold bus to canada
to read and play
show doodles
walk away from my debt
for just few boastful days
see god's green breast
and make tasteless joke
and sexist crazy spittle
that I don't mean
try to dig knees
in green bus fatigue seating
like happy urine soaked kid
and dream of rainbows in the night
and wilting green spring
wilting to glorious billie holiday
winter when everything
tingles silver and sun
emerging from snow
with big fat white face
and suds in the tub
tickling your pinky toe
and gateways to your innards
The moon in the window waiting
for next spring to see
your bare behind in a wooded
drunken
wallop wading in a lake or hole
like a drunken sturgeon
a big eternal grin
Joyous night to sit quietly
in a schoolbus wrapped like
hindu mummy towel-man
quietly celebrating this
difficult road where
most trouble is external
always man-made
glad to love friends
and lovers
and old friends and lovers
and thought of loving
a man or woman or whatever
and warm armpit night
for all who share love
old dreams and new
bonding like sister ships
It must take an old crazy
to travel this cheaply
dressed as arctic retreat
with flashlight and book
hitched to back of moving
Richard Serra schoolbus
with burning fanbelt
scratching of noses
and smell of smoke
feeling fifteen
sinking in seat
Japanese landscape
swimming forward
all roadside ads become me
with light streaking words
into the vastness of space
and I'm here too!
though dimly lit
It's the glow of cities
dreaming underneath it
and tollbooths
with their shopping mall
parking lot looking loneliness
and mad angry
just sitting there like
ponytail hair clip
on highway haired suburbs
that turns this world into
the bust of a blonde blue eyed
girl in ponytail
frilly neck thing and hat
turning in a display case
at god's Nordstrom
|
Ponytail caught
in subway door
Jewish boy
w/ shark teeth
black woman
w/ butterfly eyes
New Yorking
like worms in a funnel
I huffing and puffing
Imagine grinning
from tree
|
Flow like donut hole
in Donut
Sun
and Planets
|
New style of
Frankenstein
makes BIG splash
|
Man-Trout
Succumbs to
Horrible Disease
|
|
Oh my darling hats
and dangling hearts
I thought my chair
was a mirror
but I was wrong
my desk
a spider web of wires
|
I went to Subway today
and noticed
that the black olives
and hots had switched
places
|
Stupid Shit in a Book
A pruney railroad train
cutting thru cold
glistening drippy winds
like fingers on a hand
in hard working charcoal
night rain
a drop
two then three
pulling into baltimore
slip goosenecking
water inching on the glass
reflecting two beers
and us
and stupid shit
in a book
|
River of Cloth
Want to write beautiful poem
and mail it to someone
but cant help but think
of knowing
too many specialized words
eventually find something
Indescribable
Someone poured my batter
in a mold with my form
some twenty six yrs ago
came out flat at first
but puffed up and
stayed for the pampering
the raining of jelly beans
I put my head thru
the neckhole but found
time stretching my shirt
apart in infinity
hard to tell if I am clothed
and have warm moments
of steady dress or flow
bare-chested a still
primal dream beast
living moment to horny moment
down a river of cloth
|
Rent Check Bounce Again
rent check bounce again
for second time only
contrary to what landlord think
walk to bank lady in the rain
to help me very nice pudgy
I widthdraw and ask
do you do money orders
she says five dollars
i say thats ok
will go across street and get it cheaper
she look at me like i discovered something
and say if anyone asks that i didnt hear it
from her as if third reich have knife to her
go to pharmacy to handle my money
in front of strangers
man asks teller from behind me
can you put battery
inside marvin the martian
watch with diamonds all over it?
teller say i'd have to see
man ask if i bring wit me
can you put the battery in?
teller says i could try but
i only pharmacy man
i get my money order and
again walk in the rain
looking at other banks
to see if they are
more advantageous to their customers
no sign of that from outside
finally reach old weatherd fancy building
where landman lives
speak to representative
oh i fforgot in between then I stop at library
for nova film on shapes
THEN go to landman pay my debt
on the way there homeless man stands
looking down
at what look like pretty crisp oxford shoes
the rest of him shrouded in hoodie and cloak
i wonder is this homeless man intelligent
well to do and only hiding?
he look my way and eye darts back to feet
on way out of fancy pants building
two maintenance men obviously on their payroll
eye me up and down
as if i am in the movie
they live
and i have misplaced my glasses
to again walk in the rain to warm room to watch
the beautiful shapes of the world get drowned out
by the most hideous shapes imaginable
feasibly the worst day in long while
but taking it well
|
Cat Breath
Behold my hands
and feet and frothing
animal teeth
all tides turning
and rolling repugnant
and beautiful
all the mad gassy fears
of man bouncing
in my slimy gut
as in your blooming
lily white snowed
bowl brains
In the park
a man is spilling
his whites onto
a really old tree
and I'd bet
somewhere a fat kid
has found the hair
in his eggs
All these things
temporary turning
always & murking
the buddha
It would be beautiful
to defecate on
the Bloomingdale's floor
to watch worms
composting this earth
and go on in OM OM OM
I couldve aged in Roanoke
but decided to keep moving
a dirty disgusting thing
passed on from hand
to hand and dropped
in a foggy hole
maybe make something
Gorgeous
I am a suitcase
of mulch paper money
credit cards remove
shit and disease
and cocaine from
Diamond ring transaction
but all that is in bed
with love
how do you show
how hard you try now
if not die once in a while?
Diamond ring deep in shit
anyway
do prim package solve
fecal problem?
Crackheads seem to be lifted
like cat from neck skin
like they found way back
to mother's cat breath
they do so out of love
like I buy things
and some don't
You are unconventionally
loved
|
One day we go
our underwear
lies flat
|
Library
I was at the library today
and I turned around
and there was a baby
drooping on the arm of
some woman facing
away from me
I looked at it in weird way
and felt guilty
but then turned
and looked at it
weird again
because I knew
in that way
I could live maybe
a lifetime longer
as some weirdo
in his memory
Later I camped out
at modern japanese lit
section
and was alone and quiet
for a while
because everyone
was at work on a friday
|
Why stay up
Thinking of your balls
As an old man?
|
Peeing
not peeing
good equally
we meet half way
|
Midday moon
half a sliver
Night shifter
making stubble
|
Take it easy
not a race
to write Haiku
|
Nice to meet you
why the interest-
are you a cop?
|
Bad back
Girlfriend
Sandwiching me
|
Woke up
thought you were here
but you weren't
|
Thinking
about good haiku
in Wayne's World
|
Head heavier
or teeth grinding
either way
Something's changed
|
Million years
like today
sitting
watching The Chimpsons
|
A ding
first bottle
A dong second
third more like tap
|
Skynet
becomes aware
like first day
Masturbation
|
Wake up
One morning
One mighty Caesar
|
|
Scenes from
a Hospital
Sad saxophone
Plays
|
Poems
I don't write
change me
more
|
Pencil lead
hair pick
my scalp
feels cold and good
|
"I have matches"
Great
We'll use them!
|
Huge Artist
builds
actual Bread-Basket
|
If leaves were my skin
my thing
would be green
|
So, man cars around
with sound
snarling dogs!
|
About perfect and blessed
Oh what spirited stamina!
No bronchital problems
as a child (I guess)
but that's ok
because missed chance
to be cured by voodoo
magic of beans and feathers
born thru unlikely pairing
of christian white
think-I-ams and down
low ear to the ground
It's the true people always
know about cockroaches
and black mold!
and rubble
and how things turn to ash
how dreams are lost!
and then won again!
then gone for good.
This is what the bones say!
|
Television
Television-
Druid ghost
at my feet
Big Golden Trumpet
in my room
What a great glaring
clatter
why my fault you
staring?
Stout plasticky beast
nailbiting in my woods
DinoDragonWolf
You're too easy
meant to be amalgamy
passionless ball-play
taking my everywhere
all at once
I am trying to eat here
I'm sorry
But now is not the time
What else about you
Immaculate doorway
Who shat young moving you
and Mickey Mice
I slip on banana peels
during meditation
So do my eyes
So do my peers
Who's eyes peel
We'd all be somewhere
green covered in fog
briefly woven
bodhi
were it not for
your snowy showiness
|
Baltimore Wind
Sound like Sirens
|
"A Fire Temple"
In the mind
of the shoe salesman
|
Important Peaople
Use Internet
Also
|
Crackheads
talk crack
and pussy
|
Hoo Ha God gets fed
Two Pigeons fly
whirligig spinning
hoo ha rust cuts in
to pin the wind down
push mass of space
west of greece
a blow
traversing my Phaedra
and straight onto me
let's behave naturally
and speak in full words,
sentences and so on
for a while
quit pinning waisty words
to rail-thinity
not sure if thin
as in skinny-
can be made into this
but enjoy its
closeness to infinity
in fact, not only
am I OK with it,
I declare it a real word
NAY, I decree!
A fat blob
taught me that
I'll wake up with
horns for thorns
and same-old-song
crown of souls
wake up in X years
with weirdo literature
a Puss-y Sauerkraut
woven man below
the poverty line
What am I doing here?
or there?
It cannot end here.
A wild hooing begins
in the cradle
hoo ha be
your lasting breath
and exploding birth
have a good hot dog
once or twice
on some dirt
(see thru garden)
and sing about it
to the heavens
the way to god's heart
is thru the stomach
|
There it is
I burn (See The Craft)
and I'm in Heaven
faceful of Arctic Lilies
|
A tomb
rolling down
a river
|
With a weird sound
a wormhole
opens in space
|
City of Mud
Reaching the end of my stay now
in the warm wooden worm
crawling dormitory
Sky keeps the moon afloat tonight
Sending chills
down our moist hides
I know a good hiding place
tender afoot
but sturdy and willing
no funny bunions there
all smooth and loyalty
of seed and root
engrossing bosom
just one more block, look-
and both turn trailing
in the city of mud
with the live from
"You haven't lived"
and other uses meaning gusto
good strong grip
and gushing life
exploding marching band
& tinny silver sibilance
good night underground
Tonight
where worms are mating
by the thousands
in muddy city windows
thin veil and shadow
like golden arches
lit by Cemetery
candlelight
|
No Problems Tonight
Stretching to greet the ether
it handing me a beer
no problems tonight
lit from inside
I outshining my clothes
I call upon my million subsystems
What if I ate Goliath?
and told no one?
I alone with my gloating
powerful plum fatness
quiet and roaming
would know
sneak in thru a window
vertically blind for all the
heat and mischief
cool satisfaction
of untouched bedding
and toad slipping
from palm clutching
of bull headed boy
dumb barbell son of an ox
won't find toad deep
in slippery green
asleep on rocks
with all guts intact
no problems tonight
could learn to love
a dead man
coo-ing from his shoebox
body as love left him
I wouldn't mind
|
Yellow Rope of Light
I take the sleeper car's coat
to tan its mismatched passengers
there's no one here I like
No window room
for a while now
A lark would die here
In a movie
you get off in St. Louis
spend the rest of your life
in a cornfield
woo-hooing on principal
but a man is homeless
somewhere in the real heat I bet
and something is wet
because it rained
and now it smells good
like one clean hair
and somewhere
there's a girdle gurgling
in the tub
with more silly festive things
A good scrubbing
gets the wild world down
to the alabaster
Each night eats the last
and when you blink
and get a good feeling
the roads peel over again
beautifully imagined
covered in feathers
smelling like painted
hieroglyphics that sink
towards the aqueducts
with words that slip
from the tip top
tongues and lips
everywhere
that there is someone to dangle
from the hip of the globe
paralyzed in fear
from top to stern bottom
and we mummify ourselves
to preserve our insides
even in conversation
and crawling love
crawling crawling
crawling from base to stem
and steep nape
fuzzy wizardry that bit me
in the brief that I was busy
looking away
combating attraction to
holy time-spanning attraction
crawling from beneath
the ancient egyptian me,
myself, and I
together again
winging it
for bogus dudes spilling in
from the silver christening
holy diamond
bashful faced god
that felt you feeling him
and covered the globe in a net
of criss crossing fibbers
from the bibble and beyond
to scrabble ably
about my reasoning brain
and its many indecent forms
skidding into my skull
in a song of water slaps
and the sound of table tennis
asking to be young again
to please you better
and please his ping-ponging eye
that slips into honduras
where it sleeps with the sun's eye
and sings in Zeeees inside himself
just pleasing Zeeees
that diminish in size
inside god's many heads
who ask to sleep in your bed
leaving great dander
in their wake morning
and a note that reads
"gone pushing bugles to the wind,
one more baby thru the aura.."
and in Baltimore
a crackley leaf of a man
sits in a prison cell
and I sit
third eye
pointed towards the all out
and everywhere
trying to catch
a yellow rope of light
|
I put my notebook
on the table
as a revolver
|
A bird
Pecking at the head
of Bart Simpson
|
One bedroom Apt.
In my beard
Starting August
|
Tonight I'll make
a sad frown
from my impressionable bed
|
A mole
not far
from heaven
|
Somewhere
there's a splinter
meant for my finger
|
Envision me in the wild
with a gun
made of bone
|
Wet Soccer Ball
Fruitybrained come ons
like sweet and mushy
red mush in a glass bowl
seen from beneath
in curious suspense
It Thundering
When you notice knees
as something beautiful
and you're no longer plain
Flush with tenderness you
curious onlooker onlooking
at you
but is you
looking like usual
frilly and confused
on the opposite side
of the road
from you reading this
You capture me yelling
like a wet
Soccer Ball
|
At the closing gate
with an indigenous whistle
a shell on a string that is
spun and noone notices
this is the sound of screeching
|
Chameleon shoes
for travelling
in secret
Haiku
for Max Eisenberg
|
1
Land of German shepherds
herding man
I think the bird is calling me
Ewok dog in Hawaiian shirt
|
2
Old man
slapping
his sleeping ass
to lick dust
from a gorgeous foot
|
3
Ivy sticking
like old beards
to old trees
|
4
Big headed man
hurries through the park
important conversation
|
5
A mess of dogs
in the road
|
6
Lesbians snickering
over pasta salad
|
7
Old woman stretched smooth
big lips and awkward roundness
points sharply forward
with hands at her sides
|
8
Plain woman with big dog
parched but afraid
wasp at the fountain
|
9
Bicycle pervert
touches handle bars
and walks off
|
10
Work day cyclists in their regalia
slip with a tongue
my otherness
into each other
met in their bellies
by coffee tomorrow morning
maybe a half day
a trip to a notary
and back to Central Park
Maybe red wine lean and fuck
over marble counter top
tonight
while overlooking the rest of us
eating hot dogs
|
11
An hour and a half
in the park
is free
(11 poems in central park)
|
Saturns rings
warm the coif
of uptown royalty
|
Single line poem XX
Thunder spilt
|
A small door
behind the navel
Spiral staircase to the chest
|
Glitter outside
the bomb
comes
|
Calming chest
of bus driver
|
My tiny mouth
wants out
of my big mouth
|
Tonight
I have legs
of a dog
|
Camp out
outside office building
for money
|
Single line poem XIX
I figured out what the stone says
|
Single line poem XVIII
I found these seeds
|
I am a serial killer
my song comes on
now I am not
|
Capture me
naked
and swinging
|
I said a joke
because I
hurt my hand
|
Future me
with bellhopping
belly
|
I don't like
the shells
that wears
(about a bug, or crustacean)
|
I just went
and did that
with my mind
|
Take off clothes
backwards
peacock
|
Golden truth
smells
funny
|
I need a weekend
with
the Titanic
|
Night swimming
the pool
exits me
|
Motorcycle hums
like man balls
|
Heart beating bright
like flash
in my pan
|
The resonance
of almost
perfection
|
|
My mouth stretching
to the length
of an anteater's
does everything
|
Going to the secret
box
in the woods
|
To touch space
like through
a sweater
|
The living
are the poking
fingers of the dead
|
Holistic Waves
The wind blows in secret holistic waves
through and around cups
and massive ships and man
a wriggling writhing worm mass
with smarts that cut through time
in one squishy cosmic blow
that i'll never understand
on what day sea-gunk stood up
and spoke
and corrected itself
after one initial wordless spasm-ing
primal warbling
and gave up cherished gibberish
to sail the world
on a hell bent cock
quest to make every single tangle
of the universe irreversibly mundane
sour milky ways away on a tiny speck
wormholed into a spider web
draped across the ceiling
and the feeling of looking up!
Tinseled speckles shimmering
into one triumphant arch
resounding sirens of light
that squirm their way
back and forth
and one day began to cook my chicken!
and it hit me
I was alive, no longer "it", but "he"!
BOOM
I knew to knit up some of "the rules"
same scene just less squirming,
wiggling, writhing
and primal honking
now the buildings look down at me
and I feel like an idiot
hornswoggled by these new
"emotions"
encroaching on all my old
"whatevers"
I feel a tickle on my snake head
and sometimes
I'm dominated by my brain stem
seduced into stopping
for the medicine of rivers
to pause our limitless growing
into boundless lifeless-ness
expectorating through space
humorless
All of the punch lines discovered
in undulating waves
an unheard of crooning ringing
in secret forever
after cosmic dad walks in on us singing
and monuments, motorcycles,
and migrating birds expand into space
at the speed of light
to end up as particles tickling the sun
to a frenzied giggle
This heaven is massive
and you guys are epic-ly funny
the star cackles
crackling, wheezing
like a lounge singer
at the center of attention
an ever expanding color field
where I was born and raised
and rode infinity up through my father,
my mother and out like a light
into real divinity
hospital bills and parking tickets
take on other forms
|
Pots and Pans to you
drum set to me,
Dude
|
|
The horn honks
"no idols"
in Spanish
|
When it hit me
I was much closer
to the water's edge
I could see it all
swimming around,
everything ever,
reach in and grab it,
whereas usually
that's never an option
never knew it was even here
|
Single line poem XVII
I need tanning oil (I don't)
|
Single line poem XVI
The word's at the end of the line
|
Single line poem XV
I thought of it while you were working
|
Single line poem XIV
Couldn't coil the bobbin
|
Single line poem XIII
Sleep a natural smile
|
Single line poem XII
Couldn't find the last bit
|
Single line poem XI
A plate of cracker and eggs flew
|
Single line poem X
Change me, I'm done
|
Single line poem IX
Exact quotients only, please
|
Dancing like a scraggly weed
in a play
to my record player
|
Single line poem VIII
Shove em' pipes!
|
Single lin poem VII
Lost in my Mildred
|
Single line poem VI
Leaf, you ain't so big
|
Floridian Daydream
Today I was caught off-guard
by the desire
to wear a ski mask while cooking
I was having a beer
and it made total sense
to cover my face with something dense
The air was dense
reaching summer hotness
but carrying with it a winter cool
on NPR a piano creepily tinkles
like in winter
when penetrating silence
is the naked awesomeness of summer
that puzzles the all-clad Winter prude
who reads too much
who's pubes grow unstoppable
unchecked
enthralled
by winter's majestic grief
When I awoke
it was sunset
Saint "His Mother's" in Pompano
Latin Rapscallion soup,
T-shirt weather,
honk the horn,
we're here
like an oil tycoon runs oil
a sun tycoon runs this place
Millions of families are buried here
feet first in financial penance
who make believe a trip here
to "Surf the Torah"
but it rains all summer somehow
with a wolf in your throat
while learning to buzz
with a leaning parent around
bits of weather clear the floridian force field
battle screen to keep the sky out
and it rains crud and flecks and bug death
into your suburban lagoon
clear as a dream now a spider's banquet
and the lizards pick up steam
and the frogs pick up steam
and scurry and arc
to their inevitable doom
The novelty of food is neverending
and in its absence
the stomach grows smaller
and chants louder its grunts
becoming discernable cuss words
on one such outburst
I blinked
and awoke to find
all of my belongings smiling
|
Single line poem V
Papa was the internet
|
WOW
The Wind,
Just turned me on
|
Blood
Blood that crushes
Blood that lifts
Blood that's missing
that was good
and poured down to a trickle
to disappear relentlessly
while bad blood took its place
of good and bad confusing mess as this
when good goes missing
and bad blood is good as blood
but stains and smothers
what once was covered and grew
like in the wild with a sweetness
like no predator sweating impotence
touts potency reaching the limit of it
That now takes the brunt
of blunt cold blood that fears fermenting
latching on to insanity god-sanctioned
and good natured
that saves a fish from drowning in plain old water
Good blood that is bad blood
Unknowingly
that yawns like an animal
but thinks they're better
and preferred
and that white is better
and preferred
with fear ingrained
and blameless paranoia
Inquisitions old
That now tramples
Blood from your blood
in need of your best applicable wisdom
long after its been bled
A classic blunder
by whomever
wherever
whatever
blood thick as quicksand is bottomless
that makes like magma
makes for stoic mountain stones
that later make for tourist traps
and hot dog stands
but all bad blood
will come to pass
|
The Viewer
Vexed eyeballs
looking for truth in the weird
wobbling landscapes
handed-me-downy'd
made straight-away
by iron to mountainside
The viewer as grass stain
The viewer as worm cast
silk fat blouse of old wealth
unearned in the grand scheme
versus you
The viewer as burlap bag
of blemishes, cold and flu,
mucus and toenails and unwanted fur
fart over dinner
There is no excusing yourself
have yourself devoured
by an angry beast
chimney nostriled and decorative
have yourself escorted out
Snot rocket, plume-like
Rubber band and rock-like
to where youthful uselessness is useful
and your Dennis the Menace offensiveness
doesnt ruin my appetite
for this time saving nutrient paste
that the minds of my time have devised
and packaged so professionally
into solid hunks
crisp and glossed over
like wonderful itself made functional
you the viewer
A magnificent swan
decked in the face.
|
No young cock
could fill
her shoe
|
Sniffle whistle
in bed alone
or in bed with someone
whistling?
|
Sunday of the Future
Let's steal a giant nut
from a ghost light post
stranded in the purgatory of city planning
Let's plan to be around
a sunday of the future
to watch it be unceremoniously replaced
or to watch it crush a ghost car
or ghost person
with a passed life
"Just brush it off!" We'd yell.
and given no proper warning
they'd blast into heaven
in a reverse lightning bolt
made of engagement rings
silver fillings and buckets
and buckets
and buckets of money
food of the gods
Let's eat Chipotle diarrhea of the future
food of the present
to the uncredited sassiest of black girls
sundays are saintly
perfect for laundry anxiety
quiet bedridden-ness
like cats pawing at nothing
and it's no big deal
to not rid your fridge of hexed eggs
ungodly brocolli curry
the mold of bad dreams
on this saintliest of sundays
when you're down
to your hole-y underwear
|
Doom Mirror
Actress smile long gone
now where race song
grew oogling grows seeing
Good day young Geisha and
dreamy young grown-ups
satisfy yourself feeling goosebumps
so over rain now we eat
tranquil, loved, dreaming gandering gods
sorcerers sky-eyed death thwarters
seek casual lovers so other rain nears
some man-made dam-made doom mirror
reflects suppleness soft
to Oops-steeped daisy youth
thawed devils seeking grandness' sigh
hardened
|
Spit
The heat of simple spit
caught in your hand
is the knowledge that
stars do what dogs do
foam or no foam
and that no MSG means
Barrels delivered secretively
(Monthly)
labeled sans-acronym
and taken with a grain of salt
(What man does)
A puzzling ephemera
for the purification and revision of
the often drab dish
like action-less secretarial work
of officers of the law
and their summits at Subway
with chocolate chip cookies
and dreams of senior week
(A watery season at the water hole)
always mindful of the radio
and the many golden opportunities
to shake a huge Pristine,
Muscular,
Adaptive,
hand at ME
A rebellious fit fearful and othered
I spit
Jousting at the sabretooth
w/ my synthetic mane
of cook cloth and croc skins
Your Uggs would be good to keep berries in
I said.
You know for when nothing's left,
and the spit of hard work and exertion
is king.
|
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