there's a *****...

on either

pointer finger.

the weight of

worlds

are

pre chosen.

splaying exactions.

on a single tile.

the crackle of blackbirds...

between raindrops,

endowing snow.

the final quarter of a drawn

curtain.

snow  throws down

a blanket.

overaccumulation.

supping stars on

an upside down

cone.

apologies come in

advance of

movements.

narrows of traits,

waving off silencio~

snakes always

make out.

two almonds limp

with kiss.

adapting crevices.

expository colorations.

jamberry's bleach--

needing space.

imagining the need

of space.

Ahab festoons the Atlantic--

with scratch off chartings.

manning the privatude of a

deck, filled with men & the

tonnage of whale diet.

auspices of oil lamps.

open as water to wind...

Moby's reflective girth.

white with disidentification.

there's a hall of mirrors,

that shard configurations of:

Picasso's: '''Mademoiselle".

unstruck poses, pelted by

an apple seed--banging

against glass.

until reframed...unofficially.

ego wears wicks,

there's no passay.

flames only want

to comb thru the

knots of trees.

moths have mastered

peripheralities.

in a monsoon, heralding

the blackout of a snowflake.

crippled on a leaf, mulching

symmetries of soil.

nightmares purport--a

****** furnace, or the face

lift of beauty sleep.

Wes Craven's optometry.

cast Freddy Krueger,

whose red/green sweater's

color schema, is said to be

the hardest to assimilate.

leathery exo-glove.

metallic nails...manicured

with taunting scratches.

Que sera, sera...

omissions of Alpha--

ala omega.

omissions of Omega--

ala alpha.

accede...to,

the sales pitch of a City--

whistling corners.

cut--as if bereft of wind.

funneling a Minotaur's

racket.

Tetra's grey zone seizure.

genius overpopulates

caves.

senile gusts forced to shampoo

elitist scalps, left frothy-thick.

with no beany.

the grand tour of a capstone--

tired of wearing a dunce cap.

consulting its baseline.

in print.

homeless insulation.

out of the beak of

a ****, Peter denied

Christ.

crowing triality.

his beard whitened.

a messy paint job.

he kept frequenting an

open air

bizarre .

of sideways--reaching

down for something.

then looking straight up.

transfixed.

as news spread.

the vertigo of dwarves--

seven bites into a snowy

apple.

caramelizing dusk.

a full viewing.

her overslept perfection.

her eyelashes flaking off

tremorous go betweens.

her cheeks, rash & unapplied

blush--what's soup to winter.

or what feigns the circulature  

of a latter stir.

a harlequin bit by capers--

& black diamonds, crushed

within doings of powder.

plunges his face into a

Matissean blue fountain.

which's cut out at the rim--

as coral orange koi fish

scissor its spout.

where the harlequin comes

up for air--peeking thru his

digits.

at an underground club's

coat check--a crow's ticket,

stubs a raven's number.

a raven's ticket, then stubs

a crow's number.

their coatrack boasts avian

extinction.

Jeanne Hebuterne's neck rings

released the lump in her throat.

which assumed its shape--but

did not veer off from the width

of her shoulders.

the almond milk bath of her face--

only came up for air, as she sat.

omissions of blue made eye contact--

as Jeanne's eyes made Modigliani's

paintbrush into a walking stick.

etch a sketch digeridoo--

a window's belly button blown

out.

umbilical skyviews of an

embroidered

desert scarf--transfusing its frozen

blood bank.

there's still a cloud with a serpent's

belly--shining down & covering up.

with a handheld mirror over bitter

water--that at first glance preserves

the baby fat of greenery.

blackbird murmuration peppers that

salt...to float as hover, pejoratives

of flying.

their telepathy mutes static barriers,

with volume left on

to the maximum dictates of wingless

flight--which  pass over pattern.

to beat that bitter water over their

backs, between their wings.

it's when water drinks--it's when

Her Voice hurls forward the arrestive

sounds of a beak drinking murmuration.

when wind pops the ears

of water, a deep listening

breaks open a rain too

steady for mouths.

hail rubbing off on sleet--

then snow flaming upwards

on its escape ropes.

clear to top down respects,

paid to trees moved longhand.

there's a lycanthrope

with broken silver cords

attached to it.

leaping over a dropped jaw--

that has eaten out of draggy

dream sequences.

wearing the moon's doppelganger,

as noise canceling headphones.

to hear a packed howl, whose

lead is followed.

a shore is pushed back--

into its raring cutoff.

its lungy dunes, flounder

on their relative sides.

castle walls keeled even.

fishtailed, as glassy calms--

sparkling with the tidal floods

they down.

--do ripples betray oceanic age?

no.

a flower girl that suddenly tears

out a beach umbrella--does.

she whirls it till a beatdown desert,

throws off its color scheme.

there, there are people--which notice:

sand-sea-sky...become divorcees of

Blue.

she has a dance-off

with a shadow, while

sitting this one out.

an antiquarian bookdealer,

upwardly sleeves--Cheshire Cat's

feral litter.

as the front door bell tinkles,

(comparative to an upside down,

apple: Blow Pop).

its soundwaves release the litter,

from the elbow patches of the

proprietor's suit jacket.

its corduroy, thoroughly marked

with their epithets.

as they treat occasional pages as

glue traps--from which they must

release mice from.

please understand--bibliophile by

definition.

where the polite browsing of book

spines--become the agilism of

overattentive readership.

silvery claw marks

on a sixth-plate daguerreotype,

in a foresting chamber study.

a grandfather clock holding its

hands up to its pendulating face--

after an oil lamp is trimmed.

as that daguerreotype's, daguerreotype  

is torn to the size of letters, cannibalized

by The Word/the word/words...

made fleshless, a handwriting

analysis

examined by tactically glowing

horns.

snow is the choral arrangement

of soil--the breadbasket of

harmonium.

dispersed as pistils in every

grain of soil.

the profile of a woman in labor--

leaving her face on both sides of

a hospital pillow.

a twig's weighted sixfold bob,

a cardinal's seventh alighting.

dusting a spire of snow.

there's a black bar glister--

that strikes between the

flippant poles, of this steady

rate of rain.

while bone dry with a rain that

has letup its old footage, a present

nonevent.

an encinctured iris shot.

a metropolis' occulted pedestrians--

produce photographic negatives,

between their: A to B.

densified luminaries aping the nosiness

of the smallest village, with supposed

anonymity.

from oversaturated death stares, to the

preternatural speed reads of body language.

where that other is still a dwarf of distance.

foggy wavelets of Bernini's

marble cloth, drape over an LED

street light's pyramidion.

whose diffuse base softens its

street level aftermath.

foreshortened--

charcoal stick tree limbs, drafted

to their particular & conclusive

outreaches.

protruding through artificial light--

as if by the overworked frictious

of fingertips.

scrooge's candy cane takes

another adaptational lick.

whose twining red has gone

thru the thinnest sugary white.

supporting the weight of three

unseen visitations, where he's

the reigning host of a fourth

dimensional mime.

his right hand waving down a

glunch, then waving up a smile.

an unsharpened no.2 pencil--with a

half-chewed pink head, nary scalp itch.

pencils up...five minutes in, fifteen questions

of cardinal truth.

examination--subject: nondescript, grade:

nondescript, ambiguity: satisfactory.

pupil slowly drags his chair backward--after

holding both hands up for permission.

the wooden board soring his ***, remains studded

underneath, with undetected gum-chewing.

he walks to the front of the classroom, & places his

no.2 pencil in a manual pencil sharpener.

working it like a meat grinder, in this superimposition

of silence.

his teacher then excuses herself from a potpourri of

free ranging doodoo.

in a hail of reprimands--her pupil is banished back

to his test sheet.

where the excess of cleaning agents applied by the

school's custodian, probe his sense of smell made

vulnerable.

enter the metallic smell of blood.

as he undergoes a fountainous nosebleed--grabbing

the blank test sheet, to thwart the gush.

on sight...his teacher isn't sure whether to send him

to the principle, or the nurse.

Mephistopheles sticks out his throaty

tongue--to sample the lineaments of

an artist's brushstrokes.

his overactive salivatory glands leak

down from the finishing touch--an

artist prematurely committed.

standing in the way of what the artist

knew would become a whole other

painting--with the possibility of a

non premature finish.

the conjuration progresses--art provenance.

hanging in a place of honor, someone's

home--a matter of acquisitional record.

the very spot of their chosen wall, feng shui.

with no visiting hours imposed, the obsessive

collector is slobbered on by the barter of that

brushstroke.

so the painting is lent to a museum--where its

viewers find themselves in front of other paintings.

though viewing the same one.

by sheer force of attraction, they all end up

in front of that painting again.

as if the museum emptied out in a single

viewpoint.

brushstroke.

the sandy smoke of the

moon, explodes with waves

that rose above dark water.

spreading the ruffled shells

of Japanese fans.

fluttering the nucleic pearls

of her crystal *****.

I read me, she shows.

black locust firewood, gathered by a

hillock of men--with axes & spades for

arms.

inversely dug out, to dig in--deeper.

the ointments of sleep applied to their

eyes--left open, right closed--right open,

left closed.

left/right open.

though they see nothing of this.

when the pit is gutted--the men divide,

into semicircles.

heaping *****-fulls of earth over their

shoulders.

to ceremonialize the short of the long, the

long of the short.

they then ignite the bonfire of black locust

firewood.

about face, & wander off far enough to

disavail appearance.

which's when naked women appear--who

see nothing of this.

drunkenly slip into the bonfire, the curing

of semicircles.

the long of the long...winter, sees all of this.

solstice.

dry hexagons sometimes pop

their honeyed cysts.

discarding paper mache masks,

cursedly cratered on forest trails.

to redraft the barbed crosshatching

of stingers.

huddled to the ****** warmth of

their queen, who winters responsively

to the name: Morta.

a top hat in an empty freezer.

thumb size magnets of vintage Xmas

lights, shifting around like a ouija board.

one dimensional warp sleights of color,

motioning.

placing blind eyes to motion without

color, lit irrespectively by contrast--

or current.

battering ram frost, whose heavy

breathing leaves the freezer door open.

an: i, Chinese water tortures the: u,

of the word: thrum.

--till it becomes: thrim.

sound over writing...

rice paper bulges of wind-water.

as a cold case parrot named: Rainy,

taped to a lamppost by its stricken

vocabulary teacher.

jumbles the wind-water gradient of numbers

& characters it inhabits.

sumi ink bars, with an escapees tropic strokes.

kyphosis/hunchback--basket of abandon, made

stronger than a dozen shadows of men.

mustachio bushel eyebrow covering his left eye,

a bloaty flap of toad-warts covering his

right eye.

palsied arms clamped at his sides--like a chick's

wings embossed in yolk, draggy right foot trailing him.

Quasimodo: 'half made'--to swing from thickly fibrous

ropes & land on musty planks.

swinging/sliding/climbing, up & down, man to creature--

creature to man...in the attic of housed worship.

made deaf by the struck-unstruck sounds of Notre Dame's

bells, cathedral that gave him ears to hear.

of which he named each, each a heroine of the belltower.

made King of Fools by the townspeople during festivity--

crowned & propped up on a third-hand thrown.

stealing away a crowd throwing currency in a gypsy

goddess' tambourine: Esmerelda, whose proceeds went

to the: King of Thieves.

not long after Quasimodo/Hunchback is accosted with

rotted vegetables by the townspeople as he's led to the

public square.

after blindly following orders to abduct a certain gypsy

by the archdeacon.

where he's bound to a rotating pillory & flogged thirty times.

Esmeralda mounts the pillory and pours water from a leathery

flask into his mouth, as he called for it crooked-faced, the jutting

topples of sparse--but hard in the yellow of teeth.

amid bloodlust catcalls that already drenched the pasture-green

rags of his shirt.

his surrogate Father, archdeacon: Claude Frollo, the one that

first reached into a basket to coddle abandonment--as to invest

in afterworld treasures...rebreaks the bones of fifteenth century

sacrilege into covetous place.

whose unanesthetized voices escape from the mouths of Quasimodo

& Esmeralda.

whom the Hunchback rescued from the gallows, citing sanctuary

by church decree, after being falsely accused of murdering

Captain Phoebus.

a philandering standby of integrity, that saw Esmeralda's

eyes follow & fall for the span of his sword, all the wooded

babes of her marital hopes--dashed.

followed up by the sped blackening of the archdeacon's

hooded robe, ripping open the door of jealousy he spied thru.

an almost unbroken motion of forced entry, & ****** of blade

into Captain Phoebus' back--though the ***** survived the *****.

this active underbelly could withhold no more the fat of

a pig on a spit, so after several **** attempts on Esmeralda--

the "bewitched" archdeacon: Claude Frollo, was impaled by

a nail like a renounced garment by Quasimodo, and left to moths.

he loved Esmeralda as he hid his face from her in their brief

interchanges, with the rests of a pianist absorbing unplayable keys.

along with the gargoyle that spat fire from the belltower to ensure

her escape into the arms of her true love: Piere, a poet.

along the underground torches of safe passage, Esmeralda &

Piere, followed Quasimodo's secret instruction...as they were seen

to sunset.

as the king's army closed in on: The Hunchback of Notre Dame, he

clung to his stony confidant--a gargoyle.

where the pale stories of dawn climbed the cathedral, Quasimodo

clung to the gargoyle's head, where he was talked way down.

the diamonds of dead end signs, need

somewhere to free up the terminus of

their streets too.

where astronomical scores of headlights

U-turn against a seven foot tall wax dummy.

betraying no discernable ****** features or

genitalia, just the sum total of bare--heighted

emaciation.

a tapered candle for a spine--melting identical

replicas of its body.

shrinking down to its feet...obeisances of rest.

a double-ended apron bathtub, holds

an oblong pond of milk--poised to

exude volume.

its faucet drips plaster-of-Paris, as the

bell of a saxophone nuzzles to surface.

the congested takeaways of noir lighting

set in--the: O of the saxophone glints no

shiny brass.

only exhales the black bits of checkered

tiles from its bell--whose blow is the central

implication of sound.

which may, or may not have been produced.

draining a predominant starkness too white

to stiffen.

the hermitage of a defeathered

bird--showcases air.

in that, that bird

has never been spotted before.

which is to say--a glimpse of a

feather makes birds out of air.

as air out of air.

the topmost part of a fire--

can resemble the torquing spittle

of sparking leaves.

singeing a wind to move, just as it

lay its head down on the same forest

depression.

whose braceleted stones ground the

pool of a De-cember rain dance.

so stones can sharpen the knives of

earlier closures of light.

more reflective than the origination

of anything lost & found.

think tree canopies as overdeveloped

as the skies that they trade photographic

memory with.

the drive in pistachio of Frankenstein's

forehead--whose smiling wounds of

sutured shoelaces break open black & white.

a widescreen closeup, as his voice suddenly

booms through parked cars with foggy windows

rolled up.

a grunty-moan, a 1931 Aum--turns the screws of his

doctor's Hitleresque inflections, with pronouncements

of aliveness.

the rock-a-bye creaks of pickles in patches forced to

escape from their animal traps.

as the parking lot empties in a hot wheels like mashup--

couples turn on their radios to normalize.

where every station broadcasts Frankenstein's 1931

outre' Aum.

the Atlantic fathoms the bloodlines

of raindrops now.

shown to their lighthouses as watchers

with sleeping masks.

their cloudless searchlights circumnavigating,

resubmerged to stand the trial of:

who among you?

--catalyzed the element that continually

drowns the final frontier?

spawning Charybdis' insatiable hunger

for ships.

whose whirlpools confiscate ripples,

that downwardly core-out their bodies

of  struggling saltwater.

post-haste of rooms--full of

spot checked decor.

adjusted by the dust of walked

bodies.

crawling with broken entries--that

sign on anonymities of removal without

their knowledge.

eviction notice: "hypocrite lecteur--mon

semblabe,--mon fre're!"

maximum capacities of flies bouncing off

walls, centipedes fencing around spiders

on the floor.

as anatomically correct as the body of a

dreamer beyond their bed--revolted by the

exteriority, insecure lordship.

pituitary phenom, muppet with unshelled

eggs for eyes.

whose dilation's the yoke of a molding cellar

wall, that has never been looked on.

a dry grey mane that wigs his skull like a

cobwebbed broom in overcast.

his slanting squat protracts & threatens to

dislodge his elongated bones.

each howling the winds of his caution--

caved in his overeager mouth.

a knuckled-up grip obscures the torso

of his son.

which by proportion notes the size of his

hands, akin to manhandling a loaf of bread.

though bread plays its part in parable, as so

its body bleeds.

Saturn devouring his Son, his head & right

arm depict the clean cut of a single bite, or

a meticulous succession.

the upper body is a thick outline of blood that

refuses to run--as the left arm of Saturn's Son seems

to gag him in protest.

his buttocks stream down his dangling legs--a

cosmic voodoo doll with its pins popped out.

toccata of wind driven

snowflakes--landing within

stained glass windows.

as in between.

allowing for the oblique

radiality of all stained glass...

that repatterns its

worship.

coughing fits of dust are kicked up

by a giant--wearing great sunken cities

at the swells of his bare feet.

oceanic puddles splashing over every stride.

he reaches down to secure Noah's Arc

between his right thumb & pointer finger, as

if it came out of a ******* Jack box.

all the couplings of his animalia reinforcing

his totemic Tower of Babel.

with ant colonies of men working on molten

scaffolds of gold.

the building blocks of his washover being--

cast him out, of where?

with ineffable dramaturgies.

whose performances were witnessed by him

in such a way--that he became an unseeable

morsel placed in his own mouth.

with the taste of no kind of food, to consume

the height he was no longer aware of.

a capped lens' burst mode--in

Parisian catacombs.

Beksinski's monolithic chiseling

with the feather of Maat.

airbrushed putrefaction, whose

spray recondenses fog--to harden the

elevation of stripped faces.

medieval hillsides of conflating greenery,

cryptified human stage work to avoid being

burned at the stake.

the rattle tattle of bones banging away on a

silent bell.

ensuring the lip of its upside down cup can recoat

further wanderings--or leave be.

there's no shramming spleen to rail

against, come the winter solstice.

hotbeds of vampires stretch out to

make snow angels.

light deprivation projects its own creature

features.

received with the most lone & enthusiastic

review.

the doubleback of dark pressed against windows--

not far to meet any emergence from sleep.

uncut prolongations, tar-skipping streets throwing

off characterizations of litter.

unnerving the foot traffic of extras

spreading cabin fever.

the directorial debut of the 21st.