You transformed my freckled neck

Into a strawberry field

Last night
Transplanting puckered lips
Into planting pink rosy kisses
Across my skin
And down my chest
Like
Cherry blossom petals that

We picked

Because we  
Just don't believe that they could be
Anything more
That how they feel right now

Its too inconceivable for us
Its too contrived   


I mean
Its like
Trying to grow candy apple love
In greenhouses
Or just houses 

Painted green
With synthetic sunbeams
And pesticide ridden wishing seeds
Planted with high doses of expectations
And fertilized by things like
Movie Scripted
Kissing in the rain

And all the other high fructose corn-syrup cliches
That only let you come down
When your brain washed loving
Is washed from lusting
Trusting only the sunlight
Rising in the morning
On a clear day
Because thats when you can see
Whats real and fake

But it doesn't matter

Because we just don't believe in things like that
Its to synthetic
For starry eyes filled with falling satellites
When its still too cold for sunshine


So we
Just believe in things like
Twisting our tongues 
for the fun
Of seeing
How quickly we come undone
When we touch

And breathing

Out then in and in again
Breathing uneven breathes
Into each others mouths
To feel what its like
To come to life
Then let it go again

And we always
Always
Color outside
The rib cage lines

(and heres why)

Because ribs
Keep people out of our hearts

And cages
Keep us out of their

And lines
*******

Lines are for strictly straight people
Who can only see one side to everything
And everyone
Knows
Rules were meant to be broken
And lines were meant to be crossed

Cross eyed
Crooked teeth

That can never be bent back straight
Or scraped pearly clean of
Imperfection
Because they are already
In perfection
Everyone is just too blinded
From staring into the sun
To see it right now

But tonight
Tonight
We are two crooked lines
In a foreign vineyards of twisted grape vines

Fermenting into a wine sweeter than our lips
And we fit
Together
Like two broken puzzle pieces
That wont ever complete each other
And you know what

That's ok

You are not my missing piece
And I am not yours
Because we are not
Puzzles
We are people
And puzzles are just broken paintings
To be put back together
And we are not broken
There’s no completion left

To who we are
We are infinite
Never ending in our potential
Never lacking in what's essential
All we are doing is adding colors
To each other

And tonight
You color me inside out

Crossing every line on my skin
With you paint brush lips
Like strawberry red rows of
Red wine
Dipped lips
Planting painted
Red lipstick kisses
In each others mouths
The way
Sweet-bay Magnolia petals
Are pictured in puddles
When they look down
Seeing their own refection
And letting themselves fall
Getting bruised by the gravel
We are each both petals and pavement
When we fall into each other
Tonight
And I remember one night
A while ago
We found an old telescope
Made out of plastic
With this incredibly inaccurate scope
That focused in sudden little jults
And it took us forever to find the moon
But when we did
And zoomed in
With one eye squinted
You
Looked up
To the night sky
And I
Have never seen anything like

The way the moon filled your eyes with stars
After you peered into each others faces


All the way across the atmospheric dimension
Sendings whispered apprehensions  

Of a pretentious existences into each others eyes
Every line had a wink at the end
And every wink had
A sly smile in between the chimney and the roof

So heres a little truth

Sometimes I wish that we
Could telescope each others sunsets
And find our own sunrises in each others eyes
Behind every blink
Orbiting

Fixed fastly to this axis
Through outer space time lapsing
Across boarder lines
Even though 
I know
We already beam every time we see each other
Like spring sunshine on icicles dripping drops down to
Oil spilled rainbows

We bowed our selves

From the glowing belly
Of our laughter induced paintings
Coloring waves of light
Overlapping though space

Traveling
Faster than the speed of sound
In our own directions
But our travels are soundly set
To inter-exist in this second
And I dont want to let go yet

But I will
Because we cant believe in things like this
It too much risk  to trust the
Daffodils blooming in the brisk
Frosty March mornings
Between bits of icy earth

So we pick them
And put them in little jars with stones
In our kitchen
And smile every time we walk by
I dont even really know why actually
I guess

They are just so pretty
And they smell nice too

Right next to the stems of
The white cherry blossoms
Which bend across our wooden window sill
Next to our sudsy little sink
And we know
That they wont grow anymore
After this
That this is their only glimmer
Of existence
So we hold them close
But time alway slip through our finger tips
Letting go
Of what we cant hold on to
Pulled farther apart
And I havent seen you 
In a while

The other night

I tried to telescope your eyes
Across boarded boarder lines
But I couldn't find you in the skies
And the moon only winked in my direction
Leaving me

To plant wishing seeds

In the ashes of 

Every wished on fallen satellite
I could find
Grown
In green houses

When its still to cold for sunshine
On a clear day
I still wish
That maybe
After
You’ve cleared away all the dead daffodils
From our dusty windowsill
And planted a orchard of candy apples
In the ribs of your new lover

That it will still make you smile
Every time you see
Sweet-bay magnolia petals bruised by gravel
And it reminds you of me


                                    The End.

I voyaged through pink-bubble oceans
filled my nose with peppermint-sea air
spotted a sudsy blue whale

I fought through shampoo-froth rapids
with my trusty back-scrubber oar
spotted floundering soap-bottle salmon

I floated on spicy still-waters
wash-cloth water-weeds tickling feet
spotted a squawking rubber duck

I sat in chilly bath-water
scents long faded into nothing
spotted an old bobbing sponge.

I'm on the road, but not
Actually on. A. Road.
Per se.
I avoid roads like cliches
Avoid plagues.

Fields are much better
Travel companions. As
If a lined-paper stretch of
hoed land could thought to be
Friendly to your feet, and knees,
And mind
Not that you traipse across it.
Specially
Corn. Inside corn fields is always
Maze-Y.
The Wind loves singing through
Discordant notes of thistle and
Thatsle; whatsle you'll hear
Musically is really up
To you.
But at night, the stars shining
Through the feathery filters of what is
More than knee-high by 7/4/whatever
Is a forget that's hard to memory.

Sleep in cornfields and you'll
Wake to the pleasant murmurings
(And nocturnal rustlings)
Of mice using your clothes
Body boots shaggy unkempt hair
For warmth. Sore neck, sore back,
Worth it, comically ship-jumping-so:
The little furry squeakers realizing the
Empty soft boat wasn't empty at all
And the critters abandoning you
With the flicker of tails, gone. A
Maze-ing.

Forests. Hmm...Temperate
Temperament. More
Crazies in the woods than amongst
Iowa's cash crop: 1 must B careful.
They generally want to be left A
Lone; I specifically avoid them, or
Will travel act like their long
Lost crazy cousin.
Just to fit
Out.

Small fires in copses of woods,
Huddled near flames, ears
Prickled for the sound of
Angels dancing on the pins of
Heads.

Occasionally, I tire of the peace of fields of
Green tassels and tall deciduous
Trees, and I hear cars, and imagine
I hear the conversations held within.
So I take my bottled strangeness out
Of seclusion and rejoin the race
Humana.
More often than not, I meet up with
The Angry.
They congregate in coffee houses.
Huddle in hostels.
Mob motels.
You get the jpeg.
The Angry desire to
Do what I do by second nature, and
By nature, first. I've thrown off my
Self-imposed chains, and walk free.
They see this - in me - or see the magic
Dust my boots tracked all the way across
Their own barren linoleum flo.
They are trapped in their mind-traps.
The Angry would imprison me and
Masquerade as me simply for spite.
(If they could CATCH me, bwaa-haa!)

I walk quickly, lope along I80.
I hate to do this. It's Russian Roulette
With 6 bullets in 6 chambers.
But to get to the back roads, you some
Times have to travel the fore roads.
Troopers of State do NOT like
Peds on the road. But many of
Them, after stern sternly Drill-
Sergeanting you with their Smokey-
Bear hats, will drop you off to
Your destination. "Keep safe,
Sir." They intone with such
Seriousness that I'm always
Biting the insides of my
Mouth. They could use a
Few dewy misty nights
Slumbering in an Iowa
City cornfield, waking with
A brood of mice nestled in
your knapsack.

Food. There's an issue there,
For some. Not me - not then, not
Now. The future is only the future
When it's tomorrow. Candy bar
Smashed by a bike tire in the
Gutter? What, some puke-eating
Dog should have that? Gross.
Gross is grossly
Defined by how long you'd
Not eat when your food ran
Away. Since I have almost
Nothing except a small green
Canvas satchel and a larger
Knapsack of essentials
(A few tools, a fire-starter,
Water purifiers, and my pen and
Notebook) and my good...

...Boots and thick socks and 1-
Piece Union Suit and many
Layers I'm glad to have at
Night but make me sweat
Heavily in the sultry
Iowa summers, I eat on the
Fly. Sometimes I chase away
The Fly to munch on what
It munched. Gross.
It's a living, because moving
Is work, blessedly peaceful, yes,
But have you ever seen a fat
Walker? They either get skinnier
Or they expire. So I eat
Whenever and whatever and how
Ever.

Dumpsters. Garbage cans.
The backs of grocery stores.
I trade sudsy soapy pruned hands
For burnt pizzas and more bread
Sticks sticking to my stomach
Like doughy glue. People out
There - people alone in crowded
Rooms - will trade kindness and
Conversation for food they may
Have taken home with them, or
May have just thrown away.

Lowered
Expectations, skinny middle,
Sore feet, leg muscles wanting
To stay up and watch late-night
TV, swollen ankles eventually
Going to sleep with the rest of
The body as I'm huddled in a
Little snow cave in Iowa, or
Waiting a rain beneath an old
Wagon, or bunking with my
Mice-buddies in an old barn.
There's a lot of life out there,
A skinny man with long, blonde,
And usually ***** hair, sweaty,
Smiling, eyes bright, nostrils flaring
At the scent of humanity: a
Peaceful Mind wandering
Around the belly-button of
America.

My resolution an obvious solution
To a problem of unsolved logic
I curse as a lady sailor
All day and half of the next.

Like a bad child whipped
I go punished as a spoiled brat
pouting for it to crumble like cake
But as this year, the same as the last.

Hard headed as the hat of workers
The kink waves as incoming oceans
I should kiss it goodbye
To the promise I never kept.

Ranting as loud as the radio
Skilled as an actress in character
And agents clean filth
As sudsy bubbles flutter about

But the reasoning within my head
Is the lye in a bar of soap

I  grabbed the teal towel
Your naked body had been wrapped in last
Used your slimming bar of soap
Conditioned my armpit hair like you do

I even swirled shampoo in the palm of my hand
Because today is my first shower without you

My back will not get washed
Your wash cloths will stay folded
Still on top of the glazed porcelain
And only one lofa will get sudsy and wet

I think i'd rather ferment in my own sweat

She washes a dish, checkered blue
Sudsy bubbles trapped between pruned fingers.
A monitor sits on the sill,
And sounds of laughter carry through
Their voices piercing, high and shrill

The desert stretches for miles, tired, red
As he sits alone on his cot
Stealing a moment of silence.
The sand creeps into tents
Through cracks the soldiers forgot.

She is tired, so tired—but not enough to forget
That the boys’ field trip is tomorrow
So she packs lunches, a matching set
Identical, except for pickles on the one
Which the youngest can’t seem to swallow

He opens his dirt stained letter once again,
And takes out the photo hidden within.
Hand resting on fatigued knee, he looks down and sighs
At two gap-toothed boys, a woman, and a dog
Cracked  fingers tracing lips, resting in their laughing eyes.

I am but a piece of fine china
Fearful that I may break
For you must know
My existence is at stake!

It is hard being a plate
A porcelain product, flat and round
One slip out of your fingers
I'm in useless pieces on the ground!

You see, people use me
Their knives cut, their forks poke!
I think they think of me
As some kind of joke!

I have been painted
A piece of china, glazed
When on display in a cabinet
I want to remain there for days

You wonder of my colors
Why I wear this hue
The world is like a peacock
but I remain blue

I stand with my brothers and sisters
Fearful my world will be shattered
Along with the vases and teacups
Along with the platters!

Why couldn't I be a ring of gold?
Why couldn't I be diamond?
To be worn and venture out on the town
Instead of this piece of china!

I often feel like I am drowning
In a sea of sudsy bubbles in a sink
But then I'm proud that I'm gleaming
After I am rinsed!

I'm tired of being filled with pasta
Sauces, gravies, nothing new
That is why my color represents me well
That is why I am blue!

So I get hypnotized
by them tv commercials.
You know the ones,
the ones that look
like you're sitting
on a sunny beach
in the subtropics
with some cute beautiful babe
wearing a white French-cut bathing suit
sitting right next to you
on a straw beach lounge chair.
There's a bucket of cold ones
with two long-necked glass bottles
full of sudsy golden liquid
and some squeezed limes lying nearby.
Like that ****'s ever going to happen.
Jesus, why do they have
to f*ck with us like that?
Those greedy corporate-types!

wake up, get out of bed
***. wash your hands. not clean enough, wash again.  Use two pumps of soap. didn't get sudsy enough, wash again.
do your stretches, **** stop. do them in the right order. for the correct amount of time. **** stop.  you have to start all over again.  
take your vitamins.  don't forget any, it will be treacherous.
drink a tall glass of water. finish the entire thing. maybe just one more glass to ensure your health.  something bad could happen if you don't finish that water..
Go for a run. Good, this is helpful, calms the tendencies.  Exhaustion of the body gives you clarity of mind to fight it today.
Done running, stretch.  Gotta count correctly, stretch the right way. **** stop.  Start again, didn't do it right, missed a step, missed a count.  Stretch again from the top.
Inside, wash up. wash once more to be sure. Scrub harder, bleed.
drink another glass of water.
Begin preparing a breakfast.  Don't eat too much.  Don't eat too much.  Don't eat too much.

And it's only 10am.
exhaustion.

Miles of ocean
stretched out behind her
reflecting the perfect amount of light
off her golden hair.
Bright pastel crystal ice-eyes
revealed her inner soul,
she didn't know it,
I watched her taste-test
every single sudsy-brew she poured.
Everyone else seemed oblivious,
hypnotized by the live oldies.
And as the sun sank lower west,
I got the feeling my journey
to this party spot
had been part of a larger quest,
created by the ancient maker
of the billion stars
that twinkled above us.
For we wore matching bandanas,
certainly it was a sign,
one of the finest moments ever.
We got to at least kiss & delve
into so much more
which eventually
was washed
away by the surf,
erased from Father time.

Hauled over the back end of the bed
spread eagled and faced down,
plunging your **** deep inside
***** deep is when you decided to say I love you,
but you couldnt say it when I said it looking into your eyes
at my birthday dinner and June was there watching.

----------------

i flicked the toast over
buttered side to buttered side
just the way you liked it
it was a small thing
I didn't do anymore
you never said a word,
but you knew not to complain
It was the apartment in Brussels when I surprised you
I noticed the toast
and smell of her *** on your fingers.

-----------

She he pushed her stiletto heel into his **** as he both begged her not to and calling her god. She knew he liked it but it kind of left her feeling disappointed. She was rather hoping she was enough.

------------

******* are funny things
I usually forget all about them
excpt when you walk in the room
they just want to leap out and attach themselves to your mouth
clamouring for the privilege of being first.

--------------


your words are sharp and cruel
the sudsy sink hides the long blade clutched
slowly prying opening up a clamshell
your body is rude, imposing,
poking and prodding.
still I can't help but gasp as fingertips nuzzle into my crotch
anticipation of the violence used to free the tight hollow
but this time is different, somehow wary
gently tugged to the side, thumb caressing lips
Puckered crevices fill as soft nudges burn with warmth
gently deeper,
the handle clutched tighter trying to grasp on to anything solid
The veil now lifted you sink ******* leaving me with authority
i sudden shock wet lips on wet lips pulses of pleasure ripple
suddenly Im moving into you begging for more
smooth skin glides up my calf and inner thigh the knife released
to Shepard you in you resist mesmerized that the tables have turned so easily,
Finally with all the confidence of a tyrant you begin unleash yourself only you froze, pulled out and walked away.
For ***** sake! and I swore to my self I would drive that god ****** knife into your heart today. You *******! And just like that. The game just changed.

-------------------

Coffee for one again
usually there's two
so you must be ******
was it when I mentioned that name
yu know, when we were both writhing naked on the floor?
It was a simple comparison.
Why so sensitive?
It only happened once.

----------------

the jam sat on the table next to the tea and scones
eyes over easy we looked at each other as she pottered around looking for the cucumber for her sandwiches, she found it in an odd place
and served them as if she had served the queen. We ate them of course most satisfyingly as she harped on about what you did and didn't like
we both agreed we especially liked our cucumber sandwiches,
all the while with your hand in my thighs.

Hauled over the back end of the bed
spread eagled and faced down,
plunging your **** deep inside
***** deep is when you decided to say I love you,
but you couldnt say it when I said it looking into your eyes
at my birthday dinner and June was there watching.

----------------

i flicked the toast over
buttered side to buttered side
just the way you liked it
it was a small thing
I didn't do anymore
you never said a word,
but you knew not to complain
It was the apartment in Brussels when I surprised you
I noticed the toast
and smell of her *** on your fingers.

-----------

She he pushed her stiletto heel into his **** as he both begged her not to and calling her god. She knew he liked it but it kind of left her feeling disappointed. She was rather hoping she was enough.

------------

******* are funny things
I usually forget all about them
excpt when you walk in the room
they just want to leap out and attach themselves to your mouth
clamouring for the privilege of being first.

--------------


your words are sharp and cruel
the sudsy sink hides the long blade clutched
slowly prying opening up a clamshell
your body is rude, imposing,
poking and prodding.
still I can't help but gasp as fingertips nuzzle into my crotch
anticipation of the violence used to free the tight hollow
but this time is different, somehow wary
gently tugged to the side, thumb caressing lips
Puckered crevices fill as soft nudges burn with warmth
gently deeper,
the handle clutched tighter trying to grasp on to anything solid
The veil now lifted you sink below me leaving me with authority
i sudden shock wet lips on wet lips pulses of pleasure ripple
suddenly Im moving into you begging for more
smooth skin glides up my calf and inner thigh the knife released
to Shepard you in you resist mesmerized that the tables have turned so easily,
Finally with all the confidence of a tyrant you begin unleash yourself only you froze, pulled out and walked away.
For ***** sake! and I swore to my self I would drive that god ****** knife into your heart today. You *******! And just like that. The game just changed.

-------------------

Coffee for one again
usually there's two
so you must be ******
was it when I mentioned that name
yu know, when we were both writhing naked on the floor?
It was a simple comparison.
Why so sensitive?
It only happened once.

----------------

the jam sat on the table next to the tea and scones
eyes over easy we looked at each other as she pottered around looking for the cucumber for her sandwiches, she found it in an odd place
and served them as if she had served the queen. We ate them of course most satisfyingly as she harped on about what you did and didn't like
we both agreed we especially liked our cucumber sandwiches,
all the while with your hand in my thighs.

the shop was closed. the window;

the fifties’ kitchen, red and cream,

seen

as on an antiques show.

book of laundry planted there,

as if they knew, I wanted it.

to read the rules, regulations,

soaps and sudsy flakes.

dream of singeing smells

of ironing,  gas filled machine,

the one plugged into the light,

back then, green road.

boiling the whites furiously,

steamed  the kitchen.

copper stick bleached

beyond.

I could dream an eternity,

to learn the mastery

of laundry.

sbm.

Courtesy food pantries
Saint Eleanor's Saint Mary's,
Our Daily Bread,
the missus and yours truly (her spouse)
well stocked with good n plenti of
soap, shampoo and detergent.

Spongebob squarepants
would be in seventh heaven,
where sudsy clouds (resembling
Mister Krabs, Plankton,
Sandy Cheeks, Squidward, et cetera),
would drift across celestial vault.

Gratitude bequeathed to prophets of virtue
benevolent good samaritans
who trend righteous true
to the calling of helping hands who renew
faith (mine) in goodness of humanity
assisting not only yours truly
and the missus, but people
from South American country named Peru
or even indigenous tribes
accorded recognition comprising
population of inhabitants occupying New
Zealand, offered reparations

under the Treaty of Waitangi,
a process of reparation allowed
Maori to be fully recognized
at political level in lieu
of unfair practices inflicted upon
original occupant loosely similar
to descendents of long lost tribes of Israel,
endowed with (pure tin) pride
wishing I too could call myself proud Jew,
nevertheless attraction manifests destiny
(mine) someday to learn Hebrew.

Courtesy atheism more so Unitarianism,
I need not adopt
an explicit dogmatic, fanatic, humanistic...,
lunatic, narcissistic, puritanic... paradigm,
but only tout poetic justice (mine)
to recognize laudable traits
linkedin to orthodox faiths,
albeit rationalistic rubric
that caters to selflessness

for no other reason
than allowing, enabling, and promoting
random acts of kindness
without any forthcoming great expectation
downplaying remuneration,
no matter destitution begot mein kampf
hard times living within bleak house
slight hyperbolic exaggeration
poor as a cheesy church mouse poet.

Lemme coast to a fitting conclusion
bringing reasonable rhyming blather
originating courtesy me noggin,
within which wool doth gather
thus I a halt and
dial down philosophical lather,
cuz most likely
ye dear reader would rather
experience palmolive oil slather
preparatory to full body massage.

Children for sale!
Children for sale!
I have two children for sale!
They're young and they're strong!
They're rowdy and fun!
They like to get muddy!
Don't like showers, they prefer baths that are sudsy!
They like to talk
They like to do that a lot!
They're sweet and cuddly
They're fun and bubbly
Forget it!
They're mine*!
I will love them until the end of time*!

Salty sins
Slip off my skin
Baptized, I begin again
Bad twin
Mannequin
Swivel slip
Shenanigans
Overflowing
Keep it going
Forward rowing
Breathe and blowing
Appetites
Only growing
Moment, posing
Where were going
Future folding
Forming, molding
Hyper-culture overdosing
Ultra dramatic
Super classic
Dandelions
Made of plastic
Laugh it off
Spastic elastic
Bounce and blast off
Erratic romantic
Snakes surround me
Blinking, sinking
Echos sounding
Stinking thinking
Cost compounding
So astounding
Fountain spouting,
Auto-routing
Into the black
Death reflection
Sudsy and soaked
My bent religion
Watch me
Drowning
In fickle hearts
Pounding loudly
Im slip, spin, splitting
Program imprinting
Filling, skimming, stripping, spilling
Crypticly petrified
Sedated and sterilized
Softly by your side
Utilized
Crystallized in my disguise

from the cloudy skies.
Dewdrops on a morning blade.
Running rivers from blue eyes.

Lolling in the Everglades.
Streaming in my clawfoot tub.
Sudsy as I sprawl and scrub.

The kettle says it hot.
Steaming in the ***.
Swirling down the drain.

A puddle in the rain.
Pour it in the coffee grounds.
But it makes some men drown.

It’s a part of me.
A drink for the flowers.
This garden’s raised on showers.

The birds wet their feathers.
Cleans the stain off my leather.
Pitter-patter on the windowpane.

How it grows the honey grain.
We need it to survive.
It keeps us all alive.