45*21

opulent opals of desire
float down and out of this sound
I listen to every word you speak
emanating in and from cardboard rectangles
dispensable by nature we graduate our position
we smell the lavender in the slow field of perceptions
gradually there's smoke coming out from the blanket
note, this is not a dream
you dissolve into pig nature
the guitar wizard's closet opens with foot disorder
we plan a picnic on the border of violets
let your trumpet blow
he was driving a Ford Galaxy and it went
the river was as black as it could be
bridge night was Thursday and those ladies were fucked
I grabbed every dictionary and watched them tumble
into the grave and out of the womb
here comes the little indian with his call
I said nubile but meant nimble
suddenly I feel so lost and confused

45*21

true evil is not your run of the mill
or possibly it is just that
that which just presses on without knowing
and then knowing and not caring
it loses sense of itself
two cats chasing each other endlessly into each other
nights pass into day again
and the opposite doesn't seem to happen
they never would mention it in a million years
for your 40th you received a vibrating corncob
the nation weeps for trained killers
it is your duty to pretend to weep with moaners
you put an endless shooting spree to death, America
and brothers attend not knowing what to expect
it's a game of cat and mouse only the mouse is giant
and terror is a favorite pass time
we live in the constant mind of an M
it is okay, all will be forgiven or left vapid
like a dime store notion of death
it is painted somewhere with the breath of life
enjoy your hotdog.

45*21

fury
unicorn
dazzles
impunity
comparison
seekers
swept
earth
secret
building
detested
privacy
public
nightmare
bruised
peach
jar
lard
jagged
nose
brother

45*21

out on the rolling sea like so many black aces
these hearts travel with thought of mind
that which turns itself inside out wondering
what is the right way to put right egregious wrong
afternoon and the last three they stare at me
from my high place but all is unknown
and still there are those that put their strictures on
as if these guiding principles will hold salt
these tears of Mary, a ray of light, I
put you out to sea, so little I know waking
Oh, how I love Jesus sailing his ship
the waters seem tranquil until you are near
might come with knight stick or herring
flush with pockets open, leather in the heart
the salt comes pouring out a mountain
and your steps through the brush quiet thoughts
the ever growing moment of truth it never comes
lay down my brother before the heart knows nothing
before sleeps capture its forever story
good and bad and in between always in between
like ghosts that haunt the in between statements

45*21

hammers on delta
crammed into space
only not expected
something going wrong
wind tilted backward
into oval space
snapperhead in can
blown up dollar
they collar you
looks like vice
try to hang
made in Tianjin
boiled up supper
got the grip
banjo playin fool
grabbed my balls
hard to find
called the police
need a job
cry on command
ease into it

45*21

blue moon and this house with the leather window
mirrors my mom outside with a rake
my dad sneezes "oh shit!"
the old garage catches fire & the chief of police
he smokes a big cigar
my neighbors are millionaires but they drive
small cars. There is a heart beat
but it doesn't know its own, thinks it's gray
that is why the moon just is
not a cursory thought as leather is laced
the strychnine nightmares of a gambler
who's got nothing to lose but loss itself
a character on some shelf of life
never gets written into its novel
how many its does it take to screw in a libel
I bring myself to the brink the channel energy
elsewhere where I might know it goes
eyeballs wander in three directions
and your pulse is taken by the night nurse
that is always your curse
and it belongs in the cabin of stove stokers

45*21

these buildings and their lollipops
rearrange your desires and destinations
in this fire engine time is a flame thrower
the divine belly in a glass blown dream
cranked from the tractor oil night sky
I give you my hand as the substance wanders
he stood above and sprayed and dripped
the dragons appeared a gray, blue, aliseran crimson
the spray of warmth like steam on the face
this window of black leather that separates
us all by mirrors of mistrust is what we ask
when we ask the dust
the fuzz under chin in my mansion of time
is like a ghetto, err toward happy
the punk walked down the street with green
halo mohawk singing so loud it echoed on the houses
John Wayne was a fag as if it meant something
to sleeping angels in desolate holes
you cram it all in a bag and it retires in a frowz
the Nashua clicks with its heated lodgers
we put ice on our wounds then it's morning