My Life In The Bushel Of Hay Seeds

2011-12-04T19:04:00.000-08:00

It is true that living water brings eternal life to those who drink it. I imbibe the present moment, some buzz I hear, sharp pain I have
thickness of mind
ambition to be pure in the collective mind of posterity. That's what I scanned in. I like how I type, this need be no better for you than for me. If I had a little violence, I have seized so much,I'd seize it all again.

Crisis of Death

2011-11-14T19:44:00.000-08:00

a skull
with a snake
running through
it...

Influence

2011-11-13T14:33:00.000-08:00

A goat bleats
and a man says you can only make art
when you suffer

But we know this
is not at all true
painting our fences
into the ground

Then looking up
at the sky
I see a falling child

My pants are torn
like a cloud
in the winter sky
that is forever continuous

We go home and cry
and itch a little too
to get out

But light creeps in
the corners are filled
with it. Up 'til now
when we both leave

This is the mirror
and both of us
are in it

Looking up for the falling
who fall to us
from above
like those children

They pull the cord
on the last light bulb
in the sky

Tease The End

2011-09-30T10:48:00.000-07:00

like when the commentator says
"we'll be right back with more..."
craving the continuance
and not wanting to know the end
when it is already here
that this is all there is
that there is no that different from this
in this world
set apart from the moon
but also set apart from the whole

so we are critical
Is that in the code?
we wonder at night when we wake
maybe not those thoughts
but they return
always a little different
like growing cousins
at face value

the mullen that grew in the back yard
appeared like a cactus
and no one knew what it was
until she said what it was
& I thought, for an instant
"it could be dangerous"
but that was its pull

CALL AND RESPONSE

2011-09-16T13:04:00.000-07:00

CALL: When I get Alzheimer's I hope I don't lose it all the time and punch you in the head.

RESPONSE: That's ok, I'll wrap your hands in towels.

Bath

2011-09-15T05:20:00.000-07:00

Let the King
have his bath

The Lady In Waiting
can wait

Apple Sauce

2011-09-10T08:32:00.001-07:00

we come into the world and eat apple sauce
then leave the same way

Of Colors Unseen

2011-08-14T15:49:00.000-07:00

the blowing up and bubbling over
followers unassigned by the rule
float and floating open into dust
and brown turn in on blue again

The Shortest of Stories

2011-05-30T09:10:00.000-07:00

for Alan

There was a child born without a brain
That's right, without a brain

He had a body and a head
but no brain

But where there was supposed to be a brain
there was a spout
From which poured out
the most wonderful music

So it was a happy story
and they named the boy Alan

Buying A Home

2011-05-27T20:22:00.000-07:00

But if I have to do it again
at least I know it is not just me who's crazy
not the least of statements to make or
kind of like being at the end of a pillar of salt

Ordinary in its taste but not in it's design
forever forgetting your fucking keys

Almost when I think you are getting it
my algebra gets worse and
every time I hum that tune
right in the middle of a very important thought
it dissolves into pancake batter
causing this disturbance which
all along had nothing to do with anything

In Candle Swims The Night

2011-05-15T15:08:00.000-07:00

in candle swims the night a porous angel of daytime ripe. for what is the pluck but a sentimental dream found in old Hollywood. teak-wood cask the mask my eyes bloodshot in that picture...I've had some life in the digestion. there is a hole there where dreams get mixed in with the analytical, slight absence and then stretched like dough over your skin. hastes that border street-lined Connecticut depression road...old as the firehouse looks new, afresh in its madness.

I dip a finger in and the candle sinks and floats covered in discarded leaves. time ticks away from us in time as we elbow through...not wanting to...

At Dawn With No Regret

2011-04-26T02:47:00.000-07:00

I see my mind
This fibrous clavichord
silhouetted by lavender
in fog of my own misgivings

I reach in and it is all nice
and then the clown puppet
dances on my solitary grave

Oh these decent tendrils
from which smokes
a hallowed venom

Then caught between the dice
it chews at the corners
and puts out a cat-like howl

Some smelt in the kitchen
stewed in non-juice
at the bus stop of last desires

and somehow, still...
I learn to lie in love's manure

Chapter 7: A Short History, Part One

2011-01-10T19:06:00.000-08:00

Cabinville was founded almost by accident, really, by a man named Silas Hiccup. He was a trapper and fur trader who was unsuccessful at his trade, and after nearly starving to death by the fealty of his trade, decided to give it up and settle down. He had seen many cut-throats and nearly had his cut many times for those pelts that dangle and decided to live with the knowledge that he was alive. Because he was a resourceful person, it wasn't hard for him to live on his own, removed from all other human beings. So, as he was passing through a mountain range, that was passed through by the rare, and somewhat lost, misfit, he settled on a glen in the knuckle on the hand of some of the most forbidding terrain. The land, however, was quite fertile.

Silas heard percussion in his head at all times. When he was awake it would beat sporadically and sometimes keep rhythm to a tune, and when he was sleeping it pounded in a random syncopation with his heartbeat often peppering his dream with a melodious rhythm.

He loved growing things and had carried seeds he bought in Denver with him and when he planted them they grew in abundance and he was able to save the seeds from those plants and keep growing from year to year. He ate the random foul he caught in snares he set along the grange brush.

Silas stood 5'4" inches without his shoes. His hair was 5'2" long so that he had to tuck some of it in his trousers. His beard too was long and sometimes got hung up between his legs when he walked. Both were colored liked coils of copper mixed with strands of cotton. He wore trousers tanned from deer hide. His eyes were of the lightest brown that could be mistaken for yellow. In the winter he would often go without a coat. His body often ran a fever and hardly did he ever perspire. Often he would cry uncontrolled by nothing but a baby bird learning to fly or the pregnant gypsy moth cocoon. He loved animals and hated to have to kill them for food. He devised many ways to kill them where he needn't be around to see it. He knew this wasn't normal but either was his living completely apart from humanity.

His first cabin was made of spruce logs that were very beautiful and majestic. He had to inch them together and pitch them in place without oxen or the appropriate tools. The cabin was squat but wonderfully habitable. It had a chimney with bricks he fired into form himself in a large pit it took him three months to dig.

After the first five years he grew accustom to being perfectly alone. He was never alone. The vastness of everything touched him in every aspect until being alone meant being with everything until nothingness disappeared and happiness was nothing but everything. So when the first strangers came into his camp some twenty years into his existing alone he could not see them different from a tree, a bee, a butterfly or a seed.

This first group of human beings to wander into his camp were of Dutch decent. They had come directly from Holland to the New World and as they took themselves to be explorers set off into the the world of the unknown until they found themselves completely lost.

They found Silas writing in a book he made of some soft wood shavings. At that moment he was writing this: "I haven't written in you for some time and I'm not sure I'll get around to it again.." These were the first words written in this book. When the Dutch buried him in a coarse rocky grave some six months later they chiseled this on one of the stones not at all knowing what they were writing.

Chapter 5: The Farmer, The Hippie Colony and the Magic Muslim Painter

2010-12-13T02:22:00.000-08:00

Landine was the only daughter of the old Mr. Oxenburg. He was the town doctor and something of a great farmer. Landine's mother died within days of her being born. She had been a very beautiful hippie girl, and, as it was with some hippie girls, she was attracted to older men. She married the old farmer doctor and they made love day and night and never a child was conceived until she, herself was much older, maybe too old to have babies, but when she was pregnant with Landine the world seemed magical.

Ursa came to town with one of the hippie colonist groups that settled the town when it had a very few citizens. Dr. Oxenburg was one of them. He had only left Cabinville for one period in his life and that was to go to become a doctor. He really liked to farm and so he returned to the remote, hilly but wonderfully rich soil of Cabinville. When he came back, the first of several new settlements had begun. This first settlement were industrious. They built the town from the ground up, most literally. There really had been nothing there where they built. They didn't go crazy, however, only building what they felt they needed in a town.

One of these settlers was a strange artist who said he was a Spanish Muslim. He painted all of the buildings with his own special colors, as he called them, into many geometric patterns. The eye could go along from one building to the next without the patterns being broken.

"The lines of paint present a mathematical equation. Some of you will see heaven in it, others will see hell. It is your choice."

That is all he would say about it when it was finished. His name is Petrok. He lives in the Cabin behind Milo and Landine's. People do things like build fires and give him food to keep him alive. He doesn't paint or philosophize anymore, just sits there in a solitary chair, rocking, chewing his gums by the fire.

Chapter 3: Charlie Plug

2010-11-15T15:22:00.001-08:00

Charlie Plug was a real good for nothing asshole. He was known in Cabinville as the hippie outlaw. In Milo's opinion he was just a stupid hick from the hills. But, by some configuring of the stars, he'd become the town's Mayor.

Began somewhat long ago, when Milo was in his twenties. He could remember the late evening sun hanging around Charlie Plug's wild, wiry hair. At first Milo could not figure out Charlie's sex. The hair was a bit Medusa and the haunches maybe too, but the arms were too board-like to be arms. The denim jacket with its arms cut off were pure biker, but the shorts fit to show off a voluptuous rump. Milo thought, "God made a man woman".

Charlie Plug sat down next to Milo, said.

"Nice air."

Could see a real glimmer shooting out of Charlie Plug's eye. This might be how it came to pass that Charlie would pull so many unsuspecting strangers into his lair. His company was much like a prize fighter, both lonely and not to be left alone.

"I'm a passenger of the great moon ship, an experiment."

Milo shook his head.

Charlie nodded.

"Yes"

When Milo looked into his eyes he was certain something wasn't right.

"I'm not an experiment of anything." Milo said, not understanding what Charlie said.

He looked at Milo for a fixed second and then looked over his head at something that seemed to be in the distance. Milo looked at him for a considerable time then looked at the ground when he discovered Charlie was staring at him. He stared at him for a while then started to sing a tune without words. It was a song that has a hard time leaving your head. You scratch and beat your head, it won't go.

Suddenly, like intermittent rain, Charlie was gone.

Outline for 3 Chpaters from a dream.

2010-10-31T06:42:00.000-07:00

I. Charlie Plug The Outlaw Hippie
II.Seize The Day
III. Aftermath

Maybe eventually: Revenge On Charlie Plug

Dream: A band of outlaw hippies have taken over a town that is more like a college campus set in a holler. The town is set above with nice old houses just above on hills and as you go further up the houses become more modest until you reach the highest hills where there are, sparsely laid, some dilapidated cabins. The town has a cafe, a meeting house, an old livery with wagons from settler times, a bar and a gym. The town decided to rid themselves of the outlaw hippies by simply asking them to leave. They made out like they would, that they were sick of the town anyway, and started hanging out in the livery and the bar only. The hippies had cooked up there own plan of ridding themselves of the towns people by killing them all. They amassed some artillery and drew a line in the sand. If you were indifferent, this meant you sided with the towns people and were marked for death. They had cleverly rigged up a wagon full of munitions so that if you lit a fuse it would start shouting randomly both in direction and in time. One of the hippies, we'll call him Angus, got too anxious and lit the fuse before the order was given, so this took everybody by surprise. Even some of the hippies were killed by stray bullets. The leader of the hippies (we'll call him Charlie Plug) was angry that this happened but mobilized his people and got ready for the killing parade. So the wagon starts shooting and people start dropping like flies. It kills indiscriminately. The towns people who survive meet in the gym where the walls are concrete, but even in there the bullets ricochet and and people are falling down the steps with bullets in there backs. The sad and scary thing is that it kills children who, as they are dying look completely confused as to why they are being killed. Some bullets are projected from the wagon without actually being fired, so we are able to open them up and take out the gun powder and make a bomb, but as we are just getting the bomb ready, the hippies come riding along on police scooters picking people off and they kill the man (we'll call him Scotty) who is holding the bomb ready to be ignited, so I have to hide even though I'm one of the indifferent ones who, on many an occasion, had hung out amiably with the hippies. I decide, even though it is not a very good place, and I will surely be killed, that a bathtub, half filled with water behind some shower curtains is the best I can do when I hear their footsteps in the locker room, knowing that for sure I will be killed.

The cabin Dwellers Chapter 1 (Spring Time)

2010-10-25T20:05:00.000-07:00

chapter 1

When Milo Scuds opened the window blanket for the first time since the winter had hit hard and froze the cabin into no motion but an ailing fire that barely kept the chill off anything within five feet of it, he could feel it was Spring. The snow had turned black with earth. The sky, a solid moldy white and green made the trees look deathly.

His wife was frozen but not dead. There was, however, a dead blackbird on the floor at her feet. One of it's wings pointed up at her face as if to say, "you killed me." It wouldn't be long before that bird was dressed for a fine dinner.

It was now time for Milo to warm his boots and prepare for his journey. He would first need to pull the wool gauze off his feet, and with his hunting knife, cut the winter callous from his soles. As he did this, he thought about money. He liked the way it felt in his hands. He wasn't a greedy man, just hadn't felt any in his hand in the time it took to forget what it felt like to have it in his hand. A sun was just on the other side of two damp pines in the cottony fog where it was illuminated in the center, a scoop of lemon sherbet.

Meditating time was over. Now was time for action. A man can only put up with so much of the penury.

Cousin Id

2010-10-21T12:03:00.001-07:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6_7tthN1gtY

45*21

2010-10-20T16:52:00.000-07:00

when my brain feels this way
multiple vexations
this is when some novices
come to understand the nuances of poetry
I guess I'll read back
and hope I like 10%
My guess is less
That is the way it goes
No one is thinking of reading these right now
multiple vexations
on the night before the day of my birth
365.242199 X 46 =16801.1441154 days
I will have lived 17,000
by Spring's end
Each day more a mystery
than any other
individual to a multitude
every self
having it's lone perceptions
and growing older in the new day
but time grows more immense

45*21

2010-10-19T19:19:00.001-07:00

later, he made off for the hills
sharpening an ax that was smothered with grease
girls always gave him the look
the one that signified, gator
pool shootin for a few bills
little dilly dally 'round town
then came the bitter snuff lights out
catching crappy for the dark afternoon
that chimney was way too black
and red be it ever so red
made you think of the drain
that which we'll all go down eventually
that which sucks the deepest stream
and forgets all trees
as they weep for lasting wind
What problems
they grow from the nose
but the nose just doesn't care
so what is your problem, they ask
as you whittle time into a fork
you call a tongue

45*21

2010-10-18T19:48:00.000-07:00

if..
what a movie!
small personal peculiarities
we harvest our fears
in a perhaps glory
that they may be dulled
What of the monster in the ice cave
keeps the house as cold as pertinent
snow
pretty soon we get used to it
it traps us in its harvest
to be as cold as hangman's tears
on sexless night in Spring
Oh the glory of the harbor
as we await the lasting ships
little children tell lies
Kites fly above the awnings
porch lights dither in the fly swarms
we are given to death like a belch
of sewage
it matters not who you say you are

45*21

2010-10-17T18:38:00.000-07:00

where are we going when we disappear
I know for sure you could a hard shit have
to figure out what anybody is up to
all these triangulations
Enough to starve a sex craved man
There are no sights on this riffle
I try to sit very flat in the plump chair
I be gin my disappearance
I start by telling everybody
"Nobody look at me."
Then i disappear
and it is no big deal
Feels good to be gone
Then loneliness creeps in
I'd much prefer to let on I can be alone
when, in fact, loneliness is a creep
He's teaching Kung Fu at the Pizza Hut
I bum a smoke
It is very natural
Smoke goes in to green lungs
like wind through the woods

45*21

2010-10-16T14:56:00.000-07:00

looped E loop
and around with e's
mind floating in solid
suds
I'll be a monkey's balls
Smell of fur
deepest woods
I love you
I've been carved
Heavy knife wielding beast
turn coat of the fourth degree
I stalk my prey
A feather in the hay
Magic Child
says thank you thank you
There is terrible delivery serve
around here
What breeze though
fat and wonderful
it picks on everything
and settles for nothing

45*21

2010-10-15T20:35:00.000-07:00

Beelzebub freaked out in the best way
no traffic sound all of the sudden
candles burning death notes
they rattle the throats
Bitter are my thoughts
they grow but I could care less
Where's my grocery list
You watch the moving pictures
as I watch an old Cherokee
with a flask of whiskey
lecture a lamppost
circa 1988
Lincoln Nebraska
and there was that first exposure
to Cassavetes
and understanding that escape
that kind you can't escape from
felt like night coming down
in that way
when you find yourself alone
in the back room

45*21

2010-10-14T18:13:00.000-07:00

poor Richard
with your black holes of laughter
you are not that poor
with humor abundant
Bolinas drunkard of short-lived fame
you crack the shit out of me
Every sentence is a tug at my stomach
I'm not sure why John tried to put me off you
or why I didn't rebel
someone's got to take someone seriously
I guess
but fuck that gas
or it will surely choke you
Just ain't war and peace
We'll die the death of ecstatic horses
"One day you are a mover/
the next, you're a loser/
yes you are"
So that's it
Life is digging the grave
and the wind is lighting the match

45*21

2010-10-13T18:06:00.000-07:00

Names for a bowling team:
Mark it Zero
The Archers (after the great film makers)
Spare Bears
The Unholy Rollers
Kepler’s Theory
The Black Holes
Moving Pins
Splitsville
Team FAIL
Ballicious
Balls on Fire
Sandbaggers
Egg-Layers
Guttersnipes
Shannon, Joan, and the Daves
That’s How We Roll
Snakes on a Lane
Alley Cats
Punjabi Pin Enslavers
Mad Wrist Flip

45*21

2010-10-12T19:48:00.000-07:00

the young die old
it is a master plan
the old wrinkle buttons
on a babysitters apron
tell the lies of financial disaster
it's all so dizzying
pilfered from a top drawer
that angular bipolar label
they Sylvia Plath
let's see you drool
not so easy to be sensibly cruel
it's when you keep your head above water
can't mingle with just anyone
Oh the archers
The Archers peeping through time
I do like some spare bears
though, at first, it creeped me out
like I might move back in time
to a place I'll try to get out of again
the surrendered to a surenderer sings

45*21

2010-10-11T19:26:00.000-07:00

wicket, does the kid even know
maze, oh golden corn
of woe, where the heart goes
You, Archer, the solitary know
when every ape does not know
The time when men were nothing but fists
got to get the kid away from the fist men
The strength of character
lock away in heart
Solid iron doors
the poor
You all jet around
now times will change
Get closer to the whole
The root is forever hard
around stone
OH cabin fever of not seeing
plants that are growing from you ears
You'd rather be in some dark holler
than know the golden steer
So Archer feels an in toward Mecca

45*21

2010-10-10T18:13:00.000-07:00

Can't you see all the suffering?
On this day we walk into buses
No need to pass the dime
Not a word to the blind
It's all we can do to hold our breath
Enough of this charade
Can't climb that sky scraper
Over the tops of many heads
Nodding as I go
Vertical view of everything
Early as the bird that gets the worm
Really feeling like I will get there when I can
So let the sails out
Eventually you may understand
Solo flying is an art
In an any language you may find
Not your ordinary flier
Going in a desert without a hat
So this will be my last hurrah
On pleasant company I may count
Kindness as my mount

45*21

2010-10-09T09:26:00.000-07:00

Laughing bird!
Why are you laughing at me
from your place in the brook
Obscured from me by low hanging trees
That mocking laugh
When I know I've done nothing to you
You are like society
after a gas
The laughter never ceases
so it seems
but the truth is
it only happens at 10 second intervals
Laughing bird
what do you see
from down in the mud
where your universe is shiny
a beast of thought
on the backs of human kind
mocking mocking
a never sense of knowing
and the sense of the unknown

45*21

2010-10-08T13:20:00.000-07:00

Lazy day. Why? Can't tell you
though this morning my wife's mom said
that Lewis disagreed with Einstein
when he said that insanity
was doing the same thing over and over
expecting a different result
Well, something close to that
but I thought maybe he wasn't correct either
as it is hard to say who is really that insane
everybody being a little insane
and some more so than others
but maybe Einstein was caught in a loop
when he felt insane
not unlike someone using a cell phone
who is deaf and just wants to talk
gets angry about working in an insane asylum
at least thinking about it
the doctor and the patient with the knife
across the doctor's neck
Shinzue: The fight to the death!!!!

45

2010-10-07T19:29:00.000-07:00

Blind Joe Death
His eyes pooped out
How rude, his mouth seemed to say
Elastic bands couldn't prevent leakage
Its flip flopping irregular
the can is tossed to the rot imagine tulips rotting
There's the crack in plaster
that bothers you in bath of light
You get that Cathedral effect
I wonder why you are so stupid
It must come down to you thinking
and that's all there is to it
If feeling had a cot
in the birdman's cage
You still would want to escape
thought
Silly looking pillows about
smell of curry
A promising Iowa City nocturne
with plenty of cigarettes
and cheap beer

45*21

2010-10-06T18:22:00.000-07:00

Indians!
What do I care about Indians
Cowboys on the other hand
What do I care about cowboys
Desperation!
dark as an urban hell
If I have to listen to one more
bible inspired story
I'll begin to believe in Sasquatch
Now Sasquatch is something to care about
I saw Sasquatch with a divining rod
in a field next to some woods
I was high on my third joint
I had third eye syndrome
My pimples began to hurt
I rubbed my face with sandpaper hands
God appeared before me
He had just baked some raisin oatmeal cookies
He smiled at me with his gentle white beard
His apron said "GRANDMA LOVES CHILDREN
NOW GET IN THE WOODSHED AND BRING ME A SWITCH!

45*21

2010-10-05T17:49:00.000-07:00

little ramshackle pony
paint me purple
got no idea
what we want
the hurt is all we've known
from the beginning there were checkers
at least not being raped
as we are being killed
It's always unbearable
yet we clock time
Welcome fantastic moose
No wonder life is survived
Death is a Cantor
Pray the time not leave you empty
praying with all your might
You might leave empty handed
with your head in them
Yellow bird
fossils
brew of death
in breath of life

45*21

2010-10-04T19:27:00.000-07:00

you look into the shadow self
and left insensible, laugh
look up into the stables
you combine the horses in your mind
the secret sharer knits black wool
over and over the hobbled together
face of transcendent thought
the shadow character appears
disappears. Seas
I just don't have it in my mind
Clowns.
My little spat with neighbors
you ask yourself why you can't be led back
The bricks are made of kindergarten
Emily Dickinson silhouettes
corn fed cows and low cut jeans
plow it all under
go for a ride
the long strand of thought
drifts off
and amber ease makes the mind to settle

45*21

2010-10-03T17:40:00.000-07:00

we passed into nightscapes
in fact, I was looking for a little
some spittle pulled up by a penguin
night, so odoriferous
the owl squeezed a face out from brush
"don't give me no shit!" is what
it exclaims
there are no claims
only pictures in rectangular frames
faces of old are telling
I parked the car and fell
into a bad smell
the plastic of personhood
that bird was hilarious
even the children love him
he can't get over
on the fascinated ones
Sometimes you get trapped
in someone else's reality
they try to put over you like
like a bag

45*21

2010-10-02T22:02:00.000-07:00

some people make discordant sounds
others operate heavy machinery
some taxidermy birds
in basements, lined with red velvet
valve
the silencer makes it thrilling
silver
adjacent to umbrella
Jamaica
with all its light
some want to slumber
in lite renumber
Take for my paint brush
a golly pose
The truck goes by
on fire
they keep yelling
and I keep silent
as there is no need to understand
it shoots blanks

45*21

2010-10-01T10:11:00.000-07:00

what bridge?
the right bridge
the notes fall off
and there are no bad ones
just the ones you hang with
and the ones you don't
what do you inherently understand?
Life gets you there
Well, at least you think so
The bird woman wanted the make love
That's when I found the elevator
Though I didn't want to make love to a corpse
Later... realized I was one
bona fide ankle bracelet
no one wants to give in this easily
and we fall and we fall
like music notes
from the abstract
premises
that we are pulmice
of a vice

45*21

2010-09-30T21:41:00.000-07:00

sometimes it's supposed to
but then it doesn't
the weather is always filling in for something
you can't keep ahead of it
and it gets you down
You become Primo and his alligator
teach writing in prisons
liberate the prism
All is everything
and nothing is not a thing
Look into these things a little deeper
Stand in the puddles
and see yourself
I'm good, I can waste my money
It will make us all feel better
when we graduate from this one
and end up in the other
looking back into forever reflections
What did Jim call it.
Something that has to do with
interiors of ego

45*21

2010-09-29T20:07:00.000-07:00

even when you are alone
ha ha
divided by never
shy
hang on to mother's skirt
she is but a moth
that the moon is my mother
laughing
into deepest candle light
ok. that's psycho
switch channels
what station is this chain-link fence
supposed to be
he wears an alligator tooth
to care and be the litigator
bashful as dumbo
grab a sandbox
to fight the republic
for which it stands

45*21

2010-09-28T19:08:00.000-07:00

it's so disorienting being home again
a bee without a hive
has no home
so swarm
The factory windows are open
It is a matter of pride
these are walls and they don't break
easily, but sometimes they do
and when they do they let in
the swarm
it's so disorienting that we can't feel it
culturally
therefore we only know it symbolically
and that is when the breakdown begins
sometimes it is nervous
The streets run the risk of knowing
the chains on which we are linked
and sometime portioned
sometimes there is a breakdown lane
the rain falls hard and steady
and never cease being who we are

45*21

2010-09-27T17:17:00.000-07:00

my heart, a real heart
pumping its treasure of blood
singing the inner corners of it's song
a real bloodless sky after a day
of cool wind
I'm resting on the thoughts of Senators
as they orate themselves an orange peel
oh gallant gusts of goop
a high wind covers my manhood with dead grass
and I am insoluble at last
a glass that contains it all
an envelope full of indiscretions
the radiator wheezes
I wish I was the fool
as you wish I were the fool
drawn into the dimmest of firelight
bent over forever
the glow of moon beams
eating your chocolate cake
posthaste and in time for some sunlight
to crest the ever midnight tide

45*21

2010-09-26T17:30:00.000-07:00

for 9/18/10

I remembered his face
it was yellow with broad orange streaks
He couldn't watch silent movies
without passing into deep sleep
Then flip another card over
there is just enough time to know what time is
So then you disappear
and maybe reappear as a self without recognition
Now it is time to dream
and fall into low bed
The cat will come and say hello
but you can not stop it from purring
It will soon be time to wake
from many levels of dream
Each one you feel like you've woken from
but this time you can't wake
You got stuck between two dreams
a piece of dust on the vinyl
It is difficult to speak
and the words are not your own
You are stuck between dreams
that are laces in the patterns of forever

45*21

2010-09-26T17:18:00.000-07:00

somewhere they are lost
where they were before
behind the door 3D glasses
we poke our heads in
and now we are lost
and there is a gaping hole
somebody has fallen in
there is a rope ladder
and they climb up out
from where they were before
watching the sand in an hour glass
poke holes in the carbon paper
where a leaf has fallen
just another oak tree with rope swing
we climb into a squirrel hole
once when there were animals
watching us as we broke a mirror
that kept all data in its confines
we did this as we fell
from one branch to the next
as if we never knew we were climbing

45*21

2010-09-26T01:51:00.000-07:00

for 9/17/10

this one was forgotten
lost
left to sea
floating
just above water
knowing
in a not knowing way
trash
thrown out a window
delicate
light coming through
transom
think of books
power
get some reading done
morning
and very tired
sleep
wouldn't come
now
as ever it should have

45*21

2010-09-26T01:40:00.000-07:00

for September 25th

total turmoil of thoughts boiled up
in the idea of one house
we can't sleep
the world feels a little caved in
if it cost nothing
would it still be worth it
some might ask
can you flip it
We would have to carve some bathrooms out
what a mind melt
like a cheese sandwich
wanting to drip over into my lap
but eventually we'd have to go
the ailing time of being shifted around
It is hard to know
what exactly to do
Leave the jungle alone
I guess
or you may feel its curse
breathing down the collar of you shirt
like so many late night vampires
wanting their snack

45*21

2010-09-24T19:38:00.000-07:00

After all, we are just laminated apes
looking for some grass
We smoke the time away
and listen to records
who gives a shiny shite
When the autumn moon appears
the web is dead
leaves fall or are thrown from branch
apple ripens
mind recedes
winter approaches
the isles of hair
and the depth of mind shampoo
You know nothing
and say "sop mutt"
Now we know some limitations
big bicycles wheels
in museum windows
but the museum is fabricated reality
invented a venue
like a food court that never ends in showing us

45*21

2010-09-23T17:03:00.000-07:00

fresh pain
& I think "fresh hay"
you say "fine"
& I think of the gerbil mind
"I'm not always thinking of youtube"
you said & I thought, not when you are watching it
some things are more odious, I know
like being enslaved for the sex industry
performing acts while hypnotized
Knowing it is for the guilty few
& all those who have no feeling left
The vampires that hang right side up
who prey upon the living soul.
I think about this knowing
I know nothing of what is called god
but that some grab onto something
to keep them from the grip of their own misdeed
a thing that always threatens to change a life
feeling free to put your feet over the fire
and acknowledge your own mythos as it happens to you

45*21

2010-09-22T18:33:00.000-07:00

It is a relief to have the circle
in which all the voices speak
when in darkness we mount
the strange and forbidding
Say when the lamp posts leave
and there is barren waste
The total and complete lapse of indifference
Well, you can't hold the candle
at its very end
and not melt yourself with it
These are all chambers within chambers
pots that we clamber in our cells
What a relief it must be to smell the smoke
and when rearranging the furniture
it smells musty and speaks
in enchanted voices
That is when buying the farm
may be the only option
at the edge of time
where the mind separates from
the fruit of idea

45*21

2010-09-21T17:58:00.000-07:00

I got this from Anthropology
a raccoon built my fort
Therefore, I have a coon fort
not to be mistaken for a coon's fart
which can be a detestable thing
after it eats corn
Well, the shadow we saw from the tent
the blackest of crows walking on its beak
This may be the canceling of your show.
I'm feeling the respect I don't have for others
Memory is an over-rated bed fellow
guffaws and gad flies adorn these pages
Then I won't read this one to you
since you are angry at me for your memory
or my lack of sympathy for my own lacks
We shutter with exhaustion
I hate the rank and file of being a child
My folding chair is launched down the stairs
in your dead church
where the priest is also dead
inside

45*21

2010-09-20T18:36:00.000-07:00

I write this fuckin poem
a big black angel will lift me up
that one in the cemetery
I dream of in this solitary state
I need wings to fly out of this pasty
potty hole.
See how stupid I get when I'm beyond
the couch and onto the floor
where a little spittle might cause me to drown
In this rancid hole
a man can only drink his whiskey
and kick his boots up into the sky
How does one kid lose so much energy
thinking?
My heart goes out to the one who continually loses
Thought machine is ripe with the knottyist apples
Only a true proletariat can get off my shit list
For unbeknown to most the sand is getting quicker
The fox is less sly
The mole gets hit upon the head
and rubber stamped and sent to bed

45*21

2010-09-19T18:47:00.000-07:00

I'm as black as your beard
and my winds are hard and cruel
Please only feed me gruel
my paradise is one of worried torture
Leave me to my cold cage
or mounted tensions will pile up
You might catch me in some closed circuit
where an image gets lost in gray smolder
These are only trains we can't ride
into night lands behind cabinets
Being so filled with hormones
and realizing your disease is time-able
The timetable is reversible
and flowers grow from a child's head
Then you might be dead
or sucking some other kind of perfume
From animal's hide
to religious drive
You wake from cold sweat dream
with the hearts of divers in your sleeve
& they call you Katy Cruel

45*21

2010-09-16T12:19:00.000-07:00

the guile of mankind has no boundaries
we laugh with the meat hanging out of wet mouths
as we slam into the next decade
there is a traffic jam that lasts through the night
birds chirp. It is morning.
You start again & get the charity runs
Some say you have grown
a fish is simply a fish
an amphibian grows a lung
the pool ball slow on the slate
the green flesh of daydreams
why and why nots mingle in reflecting pools
turn it over and again
the master paints a slow portrait
the nose is a tangle of mangled flesh
a scoop of moon
mango sunset
building a ladder to another ladder
hinging the night to the daylight
a lounge where we sit and mingle
in a temporary light
that knows only back rooms

45*21

2010-09-15T20:14:00.000-07:00

oh lasting alacrity
or you might say
what's the use
we are in the horn of worms
and it's your turn to ride
bear
the beefed up men in pinstriped
I jot down the time
clocks in the sky go a swoop
time to take a night stroll
in a virtual castle
or maybe cut off a finger
in utterance on nightshade
Climb the stiffening sleep cap
in a notched cider barrel
It's time for you to breathe
or escape breathing
it might be your choice
or not
but its gambling dice and saw dust

45*21

2010-09-14T11:47:00.000-07:00

some of us
wounded by the neck up
like dying sunflowers
in the September sun
I personally just want to sleep
but then I want to wake
and feel refreshed
but somehow still feel asleep
from the neck up
making it difficult to enjoy
a September sun
go tumbling in overgrown weeds
my hair filled with thistle
I sniff my soil encrusted fingers
and boil my thoughts into a goop
This is how life is
when you are the horsey's arse
grown up for a world to see
mindless and dazed
murdered by a red rabbit
in this lake of consciousness

45*21

2010-09-13T18:25:00.000-07:00

the ability play
is strung between the stars
I thought I saw you holding them
up, the moon is for dinner
What does it take to be one of the accepted?
this is the overwhelming question we ask
A taxi will drive us away
it will be a circle of wheels in the sky
Why, when you get so paranoid
you can't drink your tea
that was hours ago
the walls are cold and firm
you must look beyond them
and hold a court of castrated souls
the dismal twine of the divine
a city in aspic
too many shadows
and none of them a paradise lost
a man in blue cashmere
a Hopi wine song
the black vein in flight

45*21

2010-09-12T20:40:00.000-07:00

before I sleep
in second sight
remember the happiness
that breaks through all sadness
samskara
those plumb moments of night
when the heart is a well pump
the cheese tasted like silicibin
I wonder if I'll trip
beware the dwarf in the red mack
death is a loom
we thread the clothes of life in
know the signs
as they will guide you
in their uncertainty
Nineveh numbers
that sting us along the road
of unknowns
better to know than simply be
if that is true then so are you

45*21

2010-09-11T21:28:00.000-07:00

arranged in five symbols
the halves divided
vgama man bad time band's head
left on the mantle
We gave ourselves ten seconds to breathe
Breath is such an essential device for play
There are not lefts to divide
the more you know the less you begin
Heart wrenching
deleterious outed
You never know when that time is
what is true and what is belief
Akhenaten was with a vase figure
A city built from lost history
Aten then becomes Amen
people are stuck in a theism
that can't but get out of
the history of man
peeling away the notions
you may say you are a firm believer
but what is it that you believe?

45*21

2010-09-10T20:20:00.000-07:00

when the thing doesn't work
it simply doesn't
this is why you should by it new
because some joker is selling junk
to you and you know it
that's what they do
it is a fighting up hill
battle time
with what you buy and what
is sold
this is a near fatal
wound to the psyche
flashback time
reorganize your thoughts
a headache on the horizon
cannibalizing jive talk
if you get on the TV show again
will it somehow change you
you are never more you then now
and that all happens in a flash
of rearrange and disappear

45*21

2010-09-09T23:15:00.000-07:00

maybe we'll put everything
a little off kilter
watch the train come in slowly
as it crashes
a mighty winding down 'til
all is done
you become the gimp genius
in the tower
the slow loading tower
this will never get loaded
there is not enough powder in the keg
it is all coming down to this
that which is lifting and
that which has declined
all known notions of self
this small electronic device
that is decoding natural acts
until we are only the spindle
a stop motion reaction
to the fear
that bends time

45*21

2010-09-08T17:24:00.000-07:00

Even though you are thirteen
my eye spies the baby
over on her side of the bed
really quite afraid of lightening
you are my sunshine bringer
calling in the clearest day
little dancer in the yard
aping the moon trolls
right now they are secreting away
in most layered light
onions from the moon
no ordinary night
Kind old man comes up the road
eating a bitter apple
tongue spitting out the peel
can't talk at the moment
has something to wish you
in indian gibberish
so I count
1 and see you grimace, 2 then
3 and watch you disappear behind your door

45*21

2010-09-07T19:59:00.000-07:00

for 9/1/10

We are in hell
You tell me it is not hell
but limbo
I say "fuck you"
You say "Asshole"
We have completed an insult
There is a fire
and too much firewood
The tent is too large
It would embarrass the novice camper
I think of a "bare ass"
when I see that word
it is "no doubt" code word
for that
We begin mission "bare ass"
which involves ice skates
You say "This is no fucking joke!"
or, rather, scream it
as I smoke the rest of the joint
Now I'm lying down
in the ridiculously big tent

45*21

2010-09-07T19:48:00.000-07:00

allowing that we know almost nothing
isn't it simple to deduce that we're mere mirages
captured in snow globes
we buy at novelty stores
We can't escape
and someone turns us over
It may be a child who shoplifts us
We are a captivated audience
and so we set ourselves on a course toward dreams
There is a blackout
and we see nothing
not even the imitation snow
We are able to pick ourselves up
and dust ourselves off
The EXIT light comes on
We are somehow back on the shelf
It is past closing time
You pull out a bottle of Makers
I remarkably have some broken light bulbs
there are ice cubes at our feet
we make a toast to being unreal

45*21

2010-09-06T20:50:00.000-07:00

why the long face Albert?
does it take but an instant for a mountain
us on it high to fold
A mag of wine
we teeter between science and religion
only soon neither make sense
Us and you Albert
against the red wall paper
magnificent light must shine through
for you to be able to see
So they made you a saint
You may have been born a raccoon
but nobody will lie and say it's not so
inside the beveled landscapes
of a Dominican monastery
you can hear the efficiencies crackly
like teeth from a stepped on skull
and try to breathe new life
into the wings of a bird of paradise
& those lost to us hanging over the ridge
of forever

45*21

2010-09-05T18:30:00.000-07:00

for 9/4/10

carry on in your likeness
or not
mine isn't decided
so I go forth without
as glad as the day
knows not itself
but arrives
again and again
and when it doesn't
what will this matter
as no one will will this to power
or summon it from the pile
THERE WILL BE NO PILE!
ashes to ashes
grave stone
Walter the walrus
let's call him Wally
will be our new savior
and we will never come close
but make a holy cartoon
of him

45*21

2010-09-05T04:43:00.000-07:00

Jesus is buddha consciousness
The Buddha is jesus
as in the mystery of the light
myth as life
Take the is away
and the mastery is gone
Good!
Strongly forbidden language
the language of the hidden
language gets hidden
in between itself
and unknown to itself
builds a tower
the windows are black
and from within
We bring a branch to a flame
we see a garden
in it are horses
and we recognize as riders
the temples
we are based upon

45*21

2010-09-03T06:58:00.000-07:00

for 9/2/2010

all along the sandbar frolic
head like hammers
steam that is human
cormorants form to fly
poor crustacean scavenger
you've known me so well
I grow in witness wide
on paths of summer's tyde
We grow to die in seasons unknown
and human song
that vibrates off the tongue
that elastic vibration
known to all life
in vast form
it creates the singing
and never dead from within
the swimming in salt
that salient brine
it pickles us in time

45*21

2010-09-03T06:51:00.000-07:00

there is the cream
and the green vine
hanging over the window
in violet stain
upstairs, the baby cries
feet stomp hard
in grassy grown//
fly hard away from sound
the siren ladies in their gowns
what grows the sun
shine that is hot
and the steaming flowers
the man that tends them
dances with snakes
in billowing garments
on roads that lead to nowhere
on dangerous paths
with closed and shuttered windows
with darkness and cobweb inside

45*21

2010-08-31T17:27:00.000-07:00

inter spliced and graded
A dog walks without owner
Thank Allah! Lay down your bombs
and shut off the faucets of blood
Oranges on the kitchen table
begin to mold
They match the sorrow
and when tears break loose in fire
we'll know we are in the garden
not as metaphor only
Many a blood bath
the dog needs
He nips my heels with that sort of
noncommittal gile that I learn to love
I'm a haystack in a feild of bushels
purple with eyes and cool
as ivy
crawls on your deathbed
breaks the dirt
and lets a little ocean in
this year I won't stress maybe

45*21

2010-08-30T19:06:00.000-07:00

today, I wrote this song
so I will cheat
and place it here
as a way for me to hear
and to remember.
"When the moon is rising/
they go insane/
Nearly freezing/
In this black/ Oct-ober rain/
No money for groceries/
only for cane//
That fermented cane//
It gives them warmth/
and keeps them sane/
Oh hear the laughter/
through a black/
October rain//
When the moon is rising/
I'll catch that train/
that takes me away//
from a black October rain

45*21

2010-08-29T18:19:00.000-07:00

for 8/27/10

halo of bugs
and when they eat you
harmony and mold
doesn't the gnat pile up
ailing foghorn
my last image lost
under carpet of plankton
you might grow in numbers
but your potency lacks
because of language
yet the listening would rather die
with those words in their ears
that very moment when they are dead
and somehow still walk the earth
take pleasure in the pain of others
never getting innocence
when it glows so wide
in a child's eye before knowing
that everyone is corrupted
The hairy man shoveling asphalt
who knows the smell of earth
by memory

45*21

2010-08-29T18:09:00.000-07:00

oceans of blue
baby is glue too
eyes don't see anymore
what the mind wants them too
get away with as little as possible
so the corruption buckles under
new light of day
the poisons released
new sun
don't believe in any phenomenon
broken locks, broken doors
pray to an empty god cellar
erase all past lives
psst! new life
old life, all the sane to me
but what is peculiar
is the under lying fear to live it
or is it but confusion
what time we bring in the wheat
and what time it rots away
like a summer's day

45*21

2010-08-28T21:27:00.000-07:00

face recognition
and peeled away reality
smoking mirrors
you won't talk to me ever again
instead I talk to people I know
so little
along an ocean
a chair sunk in sand
and because we are who we are
the sand is silver
it holds together by moonlight
cows chew cud
there is an explosion at he enzyme plant
another event to put on the calendar
made 7 lbs. of sway
and caterpillars might be
eating your trees
but you don't mind
just another end of the world
scenario and who is who
etc.

45*21

2010-08-26T21:35:00.000-07:00

all the candor off
bleep it tee bleep
off
the building glide off
candor
bill of sale
bleep
you pray handily
breaking wind
pay the gas bill
all the candor off
bleep it tee bleep
'til the till works out
red hair and curls
I love the love live
all the candor off
bleep it tee bleep
set sail for Newark
city of submits
can't wait to greet you
with my lips

45*21

2010-08-25T18:09:00.000-07:00

whose equal they think they are
vacillating between what you think
and what is really real
flying from one doorstep to another
hoping that the warmth within
will calm the unsettling storm
Kill all they will if it makes you happy
but do it with fervor
and blood on your tongue
Don't be a fool
eradicate all that makes sense
not to you
only what is near
The doctor is up your nostrils
with fanfare, luxurious meal
of bones and children's brains
Time to stop the denial game
the red rabbit is kept
like a pet in the dark
shine the light
on the velvet and fine fur

45*21

2010-08-24T20:18:00.000-07:00

watch them apples
as they undo the trees
paint the sky in my own tone
there were times when going out
to be in was out
way out
that kid who took lithium
mostly to get over
a girlfriend
mind goes wobbly
he said
I loved to paint so much
that time was grand and mixed
sidewalks so straight
great bookstore
the mind just seemed to melt in
now time is different
there isn't that wonderful lag
where you feel possibly screwed
and Georges jukebox under water tunes
watching Steve Martin movie at Magoos

45*21

2010-08-23T19:05:00.000-07:00

in the moment 17 influential people not in order
Curt Kobain
Travis Bickle
Georg Trakl
Emory Ketch
Beverly Ketch
Alta Finn
to get the fam in there
D. Boon
Daniel Higgs
Conrad Capistran
Jeremy Pisani
Beer Drinkers United
Dave Stacey included
man! this list making sucks
who am I going to leave out
Philip K Dick
Jeremy Rendina
Todd Colby, hate to say it but true
Ian Anderson, my 12 year old fan, ditto
John Larson, childhood friend, Greg Petrovato

45*21

2010-08-22T18:07:00.000-07:00

Achmed out on bail
lives in a village of his own design
The questions are climbing ladders
let the ladders be the questions
we'll climb
and high above the new fanged hick talk
that's been brewing the tea
A sea storm
a seal broken, piss the old men
in diapers
It's only worth watching if you are dead
which clearly you aren't
when reading this
nothing else exists beyond this
we all know
but in denial be thinkin those buildings came down
by some enemy hand
when in fact it is the state
and brokering of all last deals
you may as well join Al Qaeda
and drop the u

45*21

2010-08-21T18:52:00.000-07:00

Oh porous rock
when the shiny closets of doom are exposed
and the feeling of boneless hand
squeezes your head
How can you not walk down the street alone
with all the frozen treats dripping
Something speaks from salivary glands
oxygen conformities
I feel better in your presence
and better still in your bed
a mirror has come unhinged
by the weight of its own hand
measuring our our terrors in nuts
falling from higher trees
Oh slippery turf
of surface so melded to the foot
that gravity is an art
a closed space
There's not getting in
but out is better
for tight walkers only live

45*21

2010-08-20T11:15:00.000-07:00

as we race to the end
what is the end we race to
like children the street
our palms burn and itch
love lies bleeding
in a field
is what you see from a window seat
diving bell and lead boots
the deaf refuse the use
the sightless offer of themselves
I smell a hunger
a sense of elopement creeping up
around a center, a false center
around the dividing line, also false
false by perception
the orgone accumulator
knows not what time it is
but when a world gone mad
asks questions
of a world gone mad
taking sips from a bitter cup

45*21

2010-08-19T19:52:00.000-07:00

being completely exhausted
building
there are no walls but those you build
building
tearing down all those walls because of nonsense
building
there are no perspectives that join us
building
I call you my baby girl in jest
building
you say "I'll punch in the arm so hard."
building
crouched down in the truck tire because betrayal
building
the perfect alibi didn't and never does
building
we die in what we wear
building
but life has a crisper idea of what is worn
building
but not building posts that stand

45*21

2010-08-18T18:21:00.000-07:00

You have a difficult time
and time is not all there is
call it quits and start again tomorrow
When I thinks, I fall asleep
controlling your restlessness today
It's probably smart to just
break an egg
as the outgoing Sagittarius Moon visits
your aging mother
If you can't concentrate
the short end of the stick may a measure make
House of Short Trips
on maps of short travel
you haven't made much progress
but somehow you just love the color yellow
You might even make an extra run
some priority toward your death
Don't be too self-critical now
as you near your bedtime
run to the store or head out to the mall
where an escalator goes up and one comes down

45*21

2010-08-18T18:10:00.000-07:00

for 8/14/10

wet blanket
bowler hat
skeet ball
melted fuzz in the tree tops
dragon fly
mother's milk
supper group
melted sense of reality expression
dog days
Saigon Rock
trick door
Atom Heart Mother in my basement
slow death
sleep fast
breakfast roll
When I works, I works hard
slow road
better builder
death trip
Captain Trip and his flea market tent
revealing all and everything and nothing

45*21

2010-08-17T18:25:00.001-07:00

was in the fortnight the devil came
crystal lined and full of grace
when the bloom was on the sage
someone other's vanity seems twice as odious
as yourn when in mourning
life does decay
like a slipper in hay
Why neglect the night to sleep
for comfort may mean a short end
when all is burning bright
But sometimes life has its need to slumber
the time when back broken
along strands, time
clock broken in middle english
dock worker, lust
some fish on clothing breath
equal to nothing
These are our words within worlds
meaning is attached to all we say
even when nonsense predominates
and slow absences gain ground

45*21

2010-08-16T20:18:00.000-07:00

what chapel you in
how do you get out
in/out and maybe
dial it up/dial it out
majick and logi
they leave it all in behind
are you going to make me do it
lie down
as the building lies down
in the universe
universe imperceptible
why we are caught up in sex dreams
let go and releave
relet the notion
coin and the no coin
diaspora of all knowledge
little and belittled
growth of angels
in a bottom bottle
how much you guess
when a fool upside down

45*21

2010-08-15T18:38:00.000-07:00

the heroine sits under a shade giving tree
a heroine is scene through a bifocal
we are lost in heroine myths
swept up in the heroine's storm
black is the heroine's curse
the heroine is all that is beautiful
and laced in death, the heroine
walks on heroine tight walks
upon a city of heroine
This black angel is a heroine
among the geese flying toward the heroine
The night walker comes upon the heroine
heroine walking in the veins
And death burns the heroine
we are mystified by the heroine
and yet we are all in love with the heroine
who falls again and again from being heroine
this is the heroine's curse
the belly of all deceit is the heroine's needs
and yet we need the heroine
and the heroine loves us

45*21

2010-08-15T18:22:00.000-07:00

for 8/13/21

the hero brings the fire back
when a hero, you make a pact
a hero stands at the gate
it does not need to open for the hero
the hero wears the costume of a crow
a hero is in a night and day cycle
a hero is depressed and happy
heroes kill and are killed often
a hero thinks and is left to no thought
some heroes are the agents of chaos
you bring your hero and I'll bring mine
and we will dine with heroes
Are there any true heroes left
is often the question asked about heroes
there is also the heroic question
should I be a hero?
Some would say it is not heroic to ask that
others would say "why be a hero"
This may be the question that brings the hero down
or maybe the hero doesn't hear it
either way, they will no acknowledge being a hero

45*21

2010-08-12T21:05:00.000-07:00

this kid
like me
running around
the bullhorn
don't stifle
that unwanted energy
it pulses
part of the dwarf
star system
don't go
back in
no pot vein
or place to be
the atomic clack
of pool balls
in the not fair world
of little kiddom
you won't know when
you've landed
until the time has come
and all of it undone

45*21

2010-08-11T21:50:00.000-07:00

guileless and transcendental
I see your back
It appears to me in a dream
I am back in the well
documenting stars
The light of night
10 times the power of day
When I got my skin stripped away
The water wasn't enough
Vietnam
The USA suffers you
in depths undisclosed
we can not tell lies
but lie is all we do
as if it was a move
on planetary backgammon board
All we do is die
and wish we lived
but behind the scenes
man is a cucumber
first picked with its spikes

45*21

2010-08-10T22:09:00.000-07:00

gray green rimmed sphere
Wilkum and the patterns
that adorn your skirt
when is there trouble in numbers?
when they fold in
and some say when they hear god speak
the rain gets in the bottle
your own human insecticide
the plane and the candle ride
In the cave they invite light
into a kind of blackness
no one describes
car spins on a cartoon oil slick
we get greased by slow design
why others might get caught
in a middle amplitude
pull the shades and look
deep between
crevices in a mirror
that drips out life by the ounce
so there we are tuning our find

45*21

2010-08-09T18:59:00.001-07:00

breathe out argon
you talk to easy about dying
when dying is the dilapidated building
constituting the farm
let your skates bite and hiss
someone who beckons them from the ice
always the sinister ice
Ice the sinister breath
The easy talk of argon
but what of Valeria
The vast vast fields of it
six live sables
Sables live in fields in barns
in tape recorders turned on and off
Off and on and life sound
The sound of doing nothing
watch out! Jackson!
Alone in my float tank listening
to the electron show that is my body

45*21

2010-08-08T20:16:00.000-07:00

in the channels
where we swim
the delight is too great
it breaks and makes us
There are no ones
though we'd like to think they are
behind swollen eyes
a caterpillar eating leaves
We leave ourselves to sleep
There is only splendor in that
which we know is real
He'll stay up until he falls deep
into the lather
Why question the things we know?
These are the insides rearrange the outsides
until we slide
from bush to bush
You are no different from plant
The ingredients the same
when looking deep
into death's pool

45*21

2010-08-07T20:16:00.000-07:00

every pedestrian moment
our lives move in these great spaces
carved from wood
and smoothed in shapes
the mouth opens
space vehicles doused in grays
I left my sense of reality at home
The cars pull away from the curb
tress are umbrellas
There is no sense we knew each other before
yet the lightness of conversation
breaks open
Other notions
planet escape
I love the instance
and I like the speech
There is a moment
cradle your thoughts
bring it all to us
weaving codes
on bottle of absolute message

45*21

2010-08-06T21:28:00.000-07:00

blue elephant
mysteries
all caught up in the concrete
an ancient alphabet
may as well be cuneiform
the deliberation of all
we did make good unification
deliberation
Muddy Waters
on his porch
eating the most greasy jowls
and all we can think of is
cellophane
wrapped around twice with microphone
and how the Dixie cup phone came to be
and if we begin at an ending
and start from the middle
look inward and divide
twin splinters
and a coat peg to hang from
in most blue moon light

45*21

2010-08-05T19:39:00.000-07:00

too crazy getting pulled over
adrenaline making me think things
untrue
the magnitude of all the things
could happen
the night skies full of stars
may your cowboy hands weigh over me
with sleep
no rockin thing
all the fucked up shit we did as kids
no one will forget
except us
bewildered cats
a frog lands on your head
better than a bat
all the crazy feelings and speculation
of being young
and older, it arises
in slight crisis
when you are the pilot of your airship
and it comes down like star might
when in whispers
the blindfold lifted
two slender points in the distance

45*21

2010-08-04T20:18:00.000-07:00

kindergarten kindergarten kindergarten
kindergarten
Death death death death death death
kindergarten kindergarten kindergarten
kindergarten
High School High School High School High School
Death death death death
kindergarten kindergarten kindergarten
kindergarten
High School High School High School High School
College college college college
Death death death death
kindergarten kindergarten kindergarten
kindergarten
Lizards lizards lizards lizards
college college college college
kindergarten kindergarten kindergarten
kindergarten
High School High School High School High School
Death death death death
college college college college

45*21

2010-08-03T21:14:00.000-07:00

going forward in the blindfold
not like being folded by the blindness
that which is sun spots
so that you are unable to see
beyond a visor, beyond the windshield
into some place
out of this comes the place
then sit down with it
the practice is in the choosing
everybody forgets
Little bits of this
The cool taste of Chardonnay
the first time you took it to the tongue
broken out of time
released into some seance
The Bible on the black table
gives you a set of ideas
about this small room
and the inhabitants of this house
creates a sense of what it is
to break away

45*21

2010-08-03T12:05:00.000-07:00

for 8/2//10

Quiet
but not quite alone
in life mysteries
Will we feel the solar storm
Quite!
but not in our hearts
as we are left alone
to miseries, whatever they are
Quietly
chiseling away somewhere
where you can not be felt
by repudiation or lack of dream
Quite so!
where this is concerned
we'll leave you to what we know
I never got paid for knowing
Quiet now!
You know
quite well
what is now known
to quiet

45*21

2010-08-01T09:00:00.000-07:00

I count on fingers the dogs age
pump myself full of little toad stools
The diabetic needle of my childhood
weren't mine but a Bebe
and she was unaware of the frog torture
and why the hell would I ever throw bricks
at cars
I blame it on the Catholic Church
The day in day out ritual
that in the end, rots your soul
Someone's got to be forgiven
for something
It makes you bang fists so hard
listen to the bones break
What a calamity we come in to life for
Bare feet in tall grass
The dew is beginning to evaporate
loud engines in old cars
A muscle generates an ache
We pull ourselves from the grave
and told we are to behave

45*21

2010-08-01T08:33:00.000-07:00

for 7/27/10

every deep and purple hollow
I lose my footing
The speech of restless animals
a portrait maker, portraits made
a losing ground among Queen Anne's lace
and bachelor buttons
I make a solitary sandwich
you taste with your teeth
what you can't feel with your hands
the statues wooden hands
when it rains
and little flowers wake up
the double rainbow
The baby can never stop crying
A mother's caress as simple
as the need for rain
at this moment when everything thirsts
equal moments given to equal measures
the yardstick cracks
I guess we'll just get more mellow
and for happiness

for BD