45*21

the castles are holding ground
there are multiple face changes
scattered amalgamation of weirdness
ok, I like this BBQ but who am I?
these float circumferences
the lack of hemisphere
Jobs are on the rise
if the jack boot is your prize
Your fancy floral dress made my teeth hurt
Bev, smug, the hallway grows
there is only the immediate
then we are lost in jaws
Why all the circumferences?
The art always makes sense
as the Italian Prog might hold an interest
polar opposites and great divides
the same things, they break eggs
the terrace is high
the guitar solos break on isolated waves
the man with crotchless panties
in the deep dark midnight of cemetery time

45*21

it's loose strings that keep us bound
an indifference that is gathering
behind silhouettes blackened by light
a storm is gathering
it is steam as it rises
The monkey man has been selling me a line
the curtain tears as it rises
All the bees have died from infection
along the lines that suffocate
all past emerging thought of injection
The grounds have been kept neat
a guitar solo that bleeds
in a room, the person in need
I fell into a deep slumber
under the garden wall
the wonderful shade of stacked lumber
there is no need to be silent
the night is growing fast into eternity
and the houses now radiant
as we make our way into the grove
along the edges of the stove

45*21

I arrange the flowers with dead objects
in an underground tank
where young adults discuss their sexuality
while very inebriated
Some go for bike rides
in the tight spaces
while the world above spins
into another world
The feeling is mutual
I wouldn't expect him to punch you
but he is not inclined toward practical jokes
Some say "we split with laughter"
There is a tearing in the fabric
The walls of reality
That face us against each other
a quick "fuck you!"
could mean the end of your time
but it goes both ways
one drowning out the other
with the world that goes on around them
the giant chair and the ceiling

45*21

everybody's in the moment
we give ourselves to the speaking
of things unknown in a realm
You work with materials
and they come back to not understand
the meaning is always lost
There is a grasping concept
window shades open and close
another day carries on
forever lost in the pigment
Not a bad place to be
the dudeness of it
closing doors and opening windows
the word is a fraction of itself
divided in time
we grope for a little last loss
a town when you first enter Ohio
Freed man, no mall
waiting for the moon to wax
an't kill the Nova
from being a sky sentiment

45*21

for 7/26/10

the KGB have better cars, you know
diamonds in a lake
but they don't always take you where you want to go
gooseberries on a high bush
well don't piss in the wind
the red feathers get wet
maybe, maybe not
the cylinders of the high tower
spots of chicken and fish blood
the night sky filled with Orion
That's odd isn't
Black gloves in a plate glass cabinet
aren't your love ones the ones
an underground encasement
that eats up your flesh
with the only senses available
an orb misplaced in a garden
with greens and violets
and the King wants to lop their heads off
in another time
which makes us think of ours

45*21

slow descent into sadness
the clown suit sags
It is very wet and warm
The cockles are cold, however
We take for granted the winter
a forest
The ceiling of night sky
deepest breath
Morning
It looks like eggs again
but someone is starving
The knuckles of night
have stolen all the produce
My eggs are cooked
I look crooked in a mirror
Go for sandwiches
Everything is eaten from within
That silent kind silence
Everything rots
but not before it makes it inside

45*21

the age old and forever
I got to sleep downstairs with you
Please please please
but you are mine and I am you
now leap
from what is eternity
the old man can't handle the late nights
flowers bloom
there's a tomb
It's like a bed
they said they knew where they were going
but got lost in the current
flows where you don't know
Haliburton will not let it go
but that is how we lead
lives into shovels
corn into everything
hold on to your heart when you speak
or otherwise dream
of a day
not like every other day

45*21

I'm trying to explain my dreams
saying there is no 3 dimensional vision
I mean to say as it is described in films
but in reality the perception is becoming more conditioned
She locks herself in a room
Feels like a motel with a lot of vacancy
no allotment for the untruth
the mind gets more focused on a need
we wander in the high corn
There are3 wheelers in our midst
It is time to dine
among the greatest weed unknown
given shelter
It is a train station in Birmingham
drives us crazy with memories
The last place on Earth
It feels like it is time
Generated
I give you my blood
and it courses
umbilical

45*21

jammers jamming my existence
I don't know yours
must have melted
figment of my existence
I filter and pale
This growing disease
filters from the wellspring
The apples dangle and throw
their unripened green light
onto the campers
This is not your experience
but my swim suit is loose
and the night adjusts its appearance
That is okay
no wonder and no why
You lock yourself in your room
everybody else has been made to wonder
just don't make the climb
behind every great mystery
but nature's great glory
in a garbage heap

45*21

4 7/21/10

Every rimmed
& otherwise idea
fabricate the plant
it grows in semblance
alligator teeth
let it all grow
the lest unbeknown
foreground art
you want to go back
but where you come from
poisoned wellspring
but does it matter what I say
your experience will change
no matter
you need the transgressive
& we are all potbellied pilgrims
our change is experimenting
with nutriment
we divine our existence
and you climb the vine
of the undivine

45*21

I still listen to Tobin Sprout
His voice, like cold cucumbers
the references are just as they are
a building with two sides
a walkway in between
You will never understand what I already can't
So now maybe you are the one that is right
Nobody really wants to be right
That's just a false mind
Good jokes, the one without punchlines
You and I have grown inside
invisible cities with lustrous gardens
the alabaster nurse takes the temperature
I bear teeth in between false statements
get down on all fours to pull the fish in
This is our substantive life?
I'll live it without you if I have to
I'd prefer not
But as the mind is a constantly questioning concept
I'm not smart enough to convince you
what the mind is not saying

45*21

for 7/19/10

I get bushwhacked
it is by this time known
behind every alley there's another
The compass arrow in mid spasm
Then there's a break through
We turn into a moose shadow
It gets more blown up
and all proportion is lost
The Captain has no bearing
Is there any security
Some say in numbers
Some say "from their cars"
but he was thrown as the car was rolling
The embankment was deep
& the house was dark and asleep
We woke with the thud
The country road made a narrow round turn
The officer was in his commanding pose
Our thoughts unraveled into unknown anxiety
it was common to lose our hair
and swim in the cold channel

45*21

why suddenly the tools stop working
then I have to live in a frozen lie
it centers around this and it centers
us in it's night time glow of prose
beer tastes better and the company too
is in absence we scream in silence
oh what misery lies behind us all
we hope for no disasters but they come
not today though, just racing hearts
in elevators going to the moon
this is why we are so disenchanted
by the dream we are told to have
the one where it is all so real
and what is not real is really real
if that makes any sense
all the proportions wrong
and the mind stretches out from the mannequin
into the room and then the hanging night
a ball thrown against the wall
time and time again
and come back to that same old line

45*21

I felt estranged
from music
it's causes
gave me pause
the remainders
and then death
the cumbersome hole
the digger digs
all of last fruit
then the digging
gets deeper
we see the electrical sky
blown into great foreground
does scamper in the above
foregone
as diamonds are evil
in their earth
unearthed
we've planned
for the planning plans
down into earth

45*21

the
hell
we
speak
of
elders
eating
icecream
on
Sundays
got
no
sense
of
what
it
is
not
hearing
the
bells
rung

45*21

birds peck dirt
beyond absences
know absent
great beings of silence
my cart contains bear
it is my turn to ride
so where to time the the final
salsa and eggs
ketchup, a notion
nod=false
chickadee
cramped cabin horror
melted milk bar
if there was ever another
I promise you I was harmony
the keys the keys
melody comes on its own
promise
black deck
cranberry cobbler
better own it

45*21

wonder if I got poisoned by mercury
in the bulb of night
wonder what causes this bad mood
out of nothing
wonder where those stairs lead
that seem to lead nowhere
wonder where Tuli went
now that he is gone
wonder what that cackling laughter leads to
in the middle of nowhere
wonder when I'll leave this planet
in my dreams
wonder how I got here
in the first place
wonder why you would give it all up
knowing full well you were not committed
wonder why it is so hard for some
to stick with it
wonder if it means we are all different
and not alike at all
wonder what disfigured the portrait

45*21

Hi, sweet dog
you are cat
Holy hell
Alucarda break dancing
I am alive
The timber falls
allusive mushroom
campfire glow
They will make you a martyr
well that's okay
It's all a bunch of jive
caterpillar squabbler
jade necklace on a bow
nobodies September cleared
remember the elbow
a spider
gifted for its glow
You may grow in entitlement
but death will get you
like so many echoes
the whiteness grows

45*21

there is this tower ubiquitous
the clothes come off
tin objects loom above an ancient cast
blue winged plane
What delivers us from evil
delivers us into the hands of it
dudden it?
We are left empty of devices
The piano in the field invites destruction
Born is Tarp!
Glasses with meals and
inside
industrial glasses with no meals
the record of unarting art
that which is built on node
imbued with light
my type writer talks
the anti mystical radio tower
Golden tower of radon
and absent butterfly head of Redon
winching us up manually

45*21

the rearranging of everything
the pattern work is intricate
upper lip spasms
the shower that owns
night celestial being.
Everyone's horse was a little different
gazing upon this abhorrent night sky
That is why he grew a fin
The cap was an arrow
they thought I said "In error"
"Princess, I got your back."
The last lines of the play
Life continued a a mollusk
and beautiful were the days
Miners talking of oxygen
It's somebodies break room
The toilet grew in the dark
Numbers are like the sequence beings of a universe
The metal workers will, like, chop their fingers off
I grew scared of not understanding my lack luster
This is what grabbed me from behind

45*21

we drag our heals
curbs
Lasting only a few minutes
the woman hoists, unreal
Underground water ways
we hear the surface.
There is some beneath
but what
The child of unreal ideas
hedonist frailty
the man and his diatribe
they'll get to know one another
the blond
a bicyclist
triumphant pancakes
a loss leader
we are in this perpetually
as if there were another way
a grandmother's way
not just any
the ramp curving infinity
a blasting into silence
it marks the blankness
a growing sense of umbrella
machine gnomes
at the end of a tidal cycle

45*21

I smell like the fat kid in school
mixing my milk with my corn
so what?
Age old prophecy
Putting yourself in those same shoes
The music teacher wore wooden braces on her fingers
to write on the blackboard
You were not designed for this
the saying goes
Little amps in the background
We are all homicidal
just don't know it
The last candle in this place unlit
the unhampered zone
I pet the cat from tail to scruff
Nobody really gives a shit
about the undead
I stole your phone
but I meant to steal your life
They were insane
the ping pong table
floating on the lake
We laughed
An infection grew
The jelly stone disaster
reorganizing closets

45*21

brick a brack decay
I never know the day
said the ocean to the clay
but all was up ended
disaster loves coupons
OK, I guess this is true
There was a floating eyeball
on Craig's list
God forbid me
the cheese is ripe
That anglo-saxan asshole stole my sax
Well, anyway I smelled ripened diapers
all the way to the whore house.
I'll scratch that out
At the Duck Blind holy hell
parking lot fellatio
so unfair
why ain't we gettin it
Must be momma's holdin my tail
growth spurt
tits are on loan
this is a sexual poem
let's call it Joan
as we have no other name to call it

45*21

Fuck this world
as it is skating
on my ice
which is so thin now
that a hair's breath might crack it
Then again, embrace this world
with all its negativity
and have a barbecue
to celebrate life's great wonder
There is wonder I'm sure
behind some glossy two by four
But as it stands
and I'm barely standing it
all the wheels came off the truck
now it sits in Ray's field
He's old and nobody cares
This truck has some beauty
but it is fucked
sent to rust
If a truck was meant to run
then this is a truck no longer
Though as we see it
It is exactly that
If you care about that kind of truck
it breaks your heart
and makes you laugh

45*21

one dog is getting kicked by another
at least that's the way it seems
or maybe it's the pulling of the tail
the dog rolls over and bites you
you get an infection
instant karma
You couldn't have planned this misery
but you were waiting for it
Though it may be better to say
you've recognized it
Every corner has it's hidden gem
but nothing is shining tonight
The thud of life comes down
and you feel numb
Something tells you slowly
get it when you can
tomorrow never knows
the great expanse is within
and diaper shows you the great map
from the cradle to the grave
you'll sing your little song

45*21

A parade ends in misery
The murderers mere horses
Set free from their ordered life
As for next year we'll stay away from disaster
Some might say
But how do you avoid chaos
In the black night chaos comes
As it does in the day
Even and especially the hay
It seems to shimmer gold
And everybody seems so happy
On a day like this
The man wrestled a child
Over lumpy shoulder
A woman there
As if caught in a forever mirror
Death comes again and again
Like the lines of a song
Sung again and again
And in there, life too
Never mistake it

45*21

for 7/4/2010

My independence day poem
Yes, but not written on the day
I wonder what it means
Not fully knowing what independence may mean
Desire is a pendulum too
Even though it seems fixed in time
Ponder nothing too long
Enough and time will gab you up in its claw
Nonsense and laughter
Daughter of innocence
Even in the light of day, so beautiful
Not letting in the stranger
Essences of great nocturnal dreams
Dividing me from you
At this moment, then suddenly joined
Yesterday's forgotten sun
Ponder all you know
Offer it to the null and void
Eat at the table of your ancestors
Maybe they will dream you a future
So goes it in East Corinth

45*21

45*21 for 7/3/10

Dear life advocate
we've lived through much danger
the bell tower unhinged
light comes in through loose boards
then you'll be permanently in the pond
I know nobody will listen to me
the mafia is a secret code bored absence
you are drifting away
as the candles drift on the lake
the fire in the sky too
looks deep into the spaces in between
that take action kind of lover
that divides in two
and the hangman hangs upside down
in a steam of all time unhappiness
it is for you Jeff who has provided
dearly and deviled
in a life time of collapsible chairs
Hector gets the goal
Right now in the most comfortable existence
I look down from an opposite tower in the void

45*21

45*21 for 7/2/10

I'm a neurotic weirdo
thank you.
The dice get dicey
hamburger suit.
I've given you everything
a gift.
My eyeballs wouldn't
stay alive.
The man in his Hamburg suite
dances with stars.
The baked Alaska
of frigid life.
Why do you ask me to marry you
in twilight dreams.
Quiet anger in soft light
we arm wrestled.
We were so close
our beds were pushed together.
With apple cards turned over
the boy sucks the foam
Meow!

45*21

we walk into the cold cold woods
these wheels of industrial thinking
what will we come up with next?
sort of thinking. has this always existed?
my guess is no, and in Somalia
no rules dictate or determine
the proverbial rug is pulled from under
the velvet lamp, red and strange
light barely coming through
a waistcoat hanging in a coat hutch
have your man remove the brush
Is it because I'm English?
The questions surround my mind
and never do they get footing
guilt leaves you empty
fear fills the void
they are twin sisters on the bank of a river
one tunes her lyre
the other makes the fire
the goal is not to win but to survive
with a myriad of ideas fomenting lie