Ants along the stone
Up and down on strings they go
Will they ever know?

The coca-cola breath!
Flashing lights, tweetie birds, the rough narcotic stench

The sky is devoid, it is scared of the streets etched in starlight, everything shining-- tangerine and Coit and ohhhh boy
don't'cha know what you're in for?

Twilight and she is a figment on my mind
the bark of cigar is fiery opal on my slender frame
I can hear something along the lanes of love
Echoing behind me, the rising sun

Funny dudes in new suits, pressed, steamed, machine-rolled
pills in the pockets
shipped locomotive
Every etching has its china
every etching is porcelain skin
The fog is a silken balloon, unconcerned, wayward
The men longingly abide in its cool, the breath of an over-excited lover, singing in the showerhead an embarrassing microphone
over the west coast

It's all over! it's the end
the roads are devoid of the things that called you
They are a clarion horn on the Claremont, facades etched with windowpanes
here the americans eat tofu and pretend it's bacon

I am in the rapidly rotating spoke, enjoying the taste of woodchuck, upchucking my guts every Sunday, white knuckle-- praying to god
release
release

what a steal that's a fantastic car for the price!
it is only 10 years of payment
only 10!
House worth 40, kids worth 60, medicinal payments
corn flakes
Fortified iron gates and god says,
naw let them all out until they drown,
I'll never flood the earth but I'll make it puddles
and if they want they can lay face down

I am eating Korean stew and wondering what will happen
when unification builds a railroad from Moscow to Busan
I will travel it and write a novel or two
it will be
"On the Railroad"
and start in San Francisco or a little while outside
on an October evening with not a fog in the sky
Just sky, blue, blue sky
A child on the hillside
blowing bubbles in the apartment complex or the gravel mound
next to new homes, now cookiebread gingerbed frames
Doing tricks on BMX bikes, getting our elbows smashed, a designated paramedic
It's all built up now, concrete streets and lonely streetcorner lamps saying
Hey we're gonna light up this little space
Hope you don't mind
Please don't play too loud

And given that these spheroids are monumentally moving
hurling like a pitched water glass
everything staying put under the motion of it
Such a lovely rooting of mass

I will call alongside it, crawling towards answers etching on murals and on the stamping of curbs
E-5 West main
4451 Lowell Street
554 Happy Valley Road
It's all the fun little tributaries of surface waters
heading with precognition towards seas
roped into it by specific gravity

On the phone i spoke to Mr. Victorious
I asked him about his particular drone
down south there in the more direct limelight of the night
he told me about his uncle, in prose
of course
we just hung our heads over the speakerphone
Not sleeping the way we should
shouldering burdens as ***** in deserted zones
laughing and preaching to cottonfields

Then there was the girl
the one we forgot, truth be told
The one unrequited impetus for all art, all physicality and feeling
loved by god in the corporeal
She is the saffron reed in my eye, the one i forgot to preach Victory to
She that one oblong pebble, rolled by the stream
passing our campgrounds and continuing her journey to sands
small little microscopic tetrahedral perfection
I could get stuck in between my teeth
or perhaps left on the sweat of the skin
the lost moments of beachside living, love for the expansiveness, left in the diner seat of the car, gotta keep moving
Carrying her away and if not careful,
nestling her back atop the summits from whence she came.

it is a cola in the glass on the shores of the bay,
it is a divine moment of contact in the oceans
two sailors acknowledging their vessels
with light shows and the play of eye
off the horizon, a green light o' sprite.

Fresh-litter kitten
Softly mewing for mother
Placed within a box.

Sometimes,
The way I like to understand the soul--
When someone goes "home",
And their body fades

It's a great cosmic spigot
Running endless
fresh water into bright buckets
On this waning summer day

When feeble little hands grasp at plastic
And hold the sweetwaters
Close to the chest, bringing them along on journeys to the distant sands
With every step spilling
Tiny pebbled beads
Of that water onto the ground
Gradually shifting the weight
Until comfort holds, unaware
The space between the fingers
And the pan

Eyes glazed with redness, tired

The little one in us falls asleep
As waves lap quietly at the sand
And the mountains rumble inevitably into dust

And the feeling of the earth is lost
And our body, like a rusted telescope mount, unable to stand
Cants
And spills the whole pail
Into the pale
And we leave this place as we began

And when I met that girl in San Francisco
Off a dusty little pier
with rotting wood
and squawking seals
And screaming bayside wind

She caught me off-tropics
and danced with the grace
of a palm tree
lines between the quaked
concrete
off telegraph avenue
On an obscuring Sunday morning

and no
she didn't go
to church or any silly thing
like a temple or synagogue
She said those were no places
for god

God was the trees

We smoked cigarettes and got off to each other's
carcinogenic practices
oxidizing a little faster in conjunction with hopeful
Formaldehyde
Deriding the formalities
of small talk and trivialities

She liked her guitars with nickel-wound strings
I with nylon
But I couldn't play songs
that sounded any good with them
while she could
and did.

and girl did it ever sound good

She'd laugh at the contests on the radio
while we drove on a half-moon
to half-moon
full and whole of ourselves
We'd stopped in the lobby of a cheap motel
And waltzed to background
muzak
wacked out of our minds
Sniffing in deep huffs of subliminal
divinity
Understanding
loving
that mind-numbing
monotony

muzak...
ppsh.
Who ever really listened to that?

And then she left
at the end of one fine winter day
in a cloudless sky I waved
watched her plane
skip off
towards the edge of a pale blue horizon
back south
to warmer climes
to wherever she truly stayed
The tugging on my heartstrings
chimed grotesque in
precise
D minor.

Craterous deep
I worry about your sanity
How many got it wrong to the one who got it right?

The sun rises early
There is no mind
It just bugs a little because night is so sumblime
I can see maybe 126 different points of existance
And have them twinkle twist with a thousand years
They hold their presence with confidence befit a head of state
Royal rocks of alienate


It is day and now I must jump into the stream
Put on my overalls and cross -pollenate with the hive
And drop a pebbled throw into the blanket of thought
Spark quick and be forgot

I do not understand this poet
Nor the glimmer in his mind,
and no amount of persuasion
Will ever make him mine

The great poet the world has known
The English Soul, the Bard of olde
Speaks little but of jests,
and not a word of happiness

But who am I,
forgot to time,
I all but simple words I leave,

I will never have
Shakespeare's memory

Grievous

I hold you as the chameleon with his spring-trigger bone
Holds his tongue
And I will catch you as a fist
I will lick the stench from your odor sacks
as a skunk

All those creepy little fragments
bugs in the system;glitched codes
they are shackled souls in a microsecond arc-length
of the universal
Prodding the dirt
and the worms
as stars

How about all the spice trees?
The many different species of food glitter
they make the buds sparkle, they are thinking of the taste
of umami, of sour, of patchwork gaze
the cooked vestibules of bone
the marrow, seeping into the stew
The pepper trees are smoked
equinoctial bonfires
You and I are yet to be cooked through


A taxi in the trader joes parking lot
Big repetitive 7's splattered across its paneling
I won't forget when i'm drunk or inebriated somehow
The tree in the center of town is lit up with LEDs
Branches curling like worms

You are Pharos, you are the great celestial beam
you are the crescent moon, thin as a sleeve
and the hot taste of batter on your breath
the way you let my Guinness cool off next to the space-heater
and give me yogurt from the local townsfolk
Everything is creamy, you said.

But i don't like to hear that
It's a steel rod into my brain, that.
I am a simple Vishnu Hare Brahma
I do not have any purpose but to be enlightened
and worshiped for my powerful odors
and a four-chambered bowel
that makes the turn easier for worms.

2

Pitiful

You are the hopeless pod
the many wildebeest, crossing their annuals
through twirling water-crocs,
Lion Prides
Leopards shifting within the brush
Bacterial infections from ***** tusks
Strange metal boxes
No 7's on this side

I want to blow the ******* skulls off of anything
that aims for you, sweet mare
45-70
Will literally send chunks of it into orbit
Lion or Turtle or window or Children
The most godly thing is a bullet
And the streams of blood that will seed a new ravine
and seep the next feed of riverrun

Will you be mine, then?

And they are attractive little bunches
Holding themselves together with lightshows and
Hanging over stucco ledges
Until they are replaced
In the dead of night with nobody but the janitor's
Wrinkled gaze
Pruning and yanking
their dry roots
To replace with something new.

The Fibbonacci stories spiral downstairs like infinity
And a reflecting pool looks like the domed firmament of some great sistine

I could see for a moment in my upturned gut
The draw towards infinity that lies at the end of that hollowed mosque
And which holds me firm in trust

There are no stairs, oddly enough
Only a polished high speed elevator
With fancy buttons that light up
And bring us down to ground
Floors that once were above

I stared at my face in between
The metal doors and wondered
When the time would come
For me to be something more

No American in Paris,
No ma'am I do not like baguette.

Here the sun rests perpetual
cooks the sky pink and white
I can slip and slide between a million souls
A splash of coffee creamer
Lost in the machinery.

Fuji-San salutes the sun
A foreign lesion of burning earth
Beyond the respectful attention
Of a careful city perched

Catches the orb, twirls it for a moment
Shadows cast our descent
and yet

Tokyo explodes, light and dine
A big "*******"
to the dark side of the twirl

Where I get drunk and ramble about Tao
Dichotomy and my dying country
To a Konbini attendant
at 3 in the morning

Dreaming
That with enough effort
and a little more east to our west
that we can destinate
A better fate

For that upset continent

With a citronella candle,
A lofty perfume,
Delayed expectations,
Friendly champagne flute--

I will wonder in between
Inebriation
Being patient,
Believing in the irredeemable soul.

Kawasaki revving on a long 5 *******
screaming pipe, watching from behind
a beautiful carousel of red and blue
flashing between my eyes

All along these tired roads
between the wandering streams cutting daily into the sediment
eroding the trust of those ancient riverbanks
exposing the bodies laid to dust

Those great crackling xylophones
marimba of memory and curdled blood
Screaming now, cracking between the gunshots
like bones
Souls forever past it

No forgiveness, no chance
No indictment on a ruddy road

I fall off my bike, skid a mile or two
feel the deep earth grind my skin,
tempting me with heat and a sweet goodbye
a challenge I'll never win

I skid past the officer in a ditch,
hole in his head and a clipboard ripped in two
Poor man, back with the sediment
wrapped in a carpet of beige and mud
all we've ever done

I'm not sure what I'd have said
As I slid past on my way to death
where the Appalachia slammed into Africa
saying we were all in this together
once before
as dinosaurs

So how are we any different then?

Bunch of stardust
and Sediment
Acting like winners
and consumed by lust
for dust and rocks
a part of us
Leading back our dark descent

Kawasaki flips and implodes in a ball of combustibles
behind me the sky explodes into red
and fire of passion deep in our star
of hearts, I know we'll all be the same then
empty of body, devoid of toys
stripped of lies, those knowledgeable clothes
and return to perfect Eden
where dirt and earth are us,
and dust we discriminate
obliterate into the neverend

Howling wind
Flying dust
grating sands
none too much

Soldier boy
This I trust
A soul so pure
yet given up

Let your flag
remember you
let it wave
a fair adieu

From every fifty spangled stars
No honored tread of boot too far
May spirits lie in great recline
Dream, and rest, nor roused to fight

May peace partake in later fate
On burdened shoulders
And trembling legs

Hold the world you dreamed up high
With eyes beset that endless night

Beyond that veil you see so true
Those glistening stars call home to you.

Rotate
Clack!
Rotate
Crack!

Rotate
Shhhzzck!
Rotate
Click.

Rotate
Ow!
Rotate
Wow!

Rotate
Rotate

Snap-
Out.

The blinded equines
kick flies into the soils
And give feed to life

And now there would come a time
a swift sharp clock on the bed
Blaring its little chime in between the hard bells
Like an angry little arm
Charming if not for the alarm

And everyday I slap the face of it
Like an unwanted *****
And she is silenced
Quick unlike
Said chick

But I am a cruel guy and have no sense of wet and dry
Nor cool or heat
There's nothing bothering me

Time just ticks off and I laugh at it

But my cells divide and turn into little old protoplasmic men
And yet I am not called upon them
Because they are stupidly designed and I have no sympathy for arts and crafts
No masterman
who failing to raise his hand
Clams up
With such poor artwork

Slap that ***** in the dilapidated sistan

Now In San Francisco
Where the alley streets stink of ***
And the European facades are just that
Crumbling
Poopy
And full of ****
And what yet are they dreaming to be?

The church that survived fire
Great conflagration
God didn't make a rainbow at the end of that,
Now did he?

He's a water-sign
Dolt
And water only jolts your mind
When it scatters true light,
Ain't that right?

But it's all the same
Just different hues
And the news
Isn't new
Just Blaring and yelling
And speeding television crews
Riding their stories
Up and down the many stories
Trying to build a city of angels
On a bituminous hill

Shills

No life skills

And I walk the city streets with a ugly old leather
Brief
Casing the joints and rolling my own
Unhappy and alone
Kerouac and the dreams on the monangular input where the triangular avenues meet
And he has no road

While airplanes shake their jets on the tarmac and trebuchet into the air
Going god knows where
Seeing a new piece of the sculpted pinball
Perpetually trapped in the machine

How bout Nippon
Or Hangujin
Or Han Chinese
Or Berlin
Anywhere but when
A little ways along the state
Of "in"

All these strange things

Have you seen the soft light of her eye?
The speckled dusts that line
the record sheaths
Spinning in the groovy beat of eternity

Somewhere high above the skies
veiled in wisps, her water-bearing cirrus
and looming presence of Cumulonimbus
running the deluge of thoughts into the brain
and giving the gift of loving rains

There she is, the lovely moon--
A pockmarked pearl in distant gloom
A momentary gift, spinning her disk
in shafts of light on fallow eyes

I have been long lost, in varied dream
The boundless world around careens
Empty towards the end of move
But I'll spend the rest of this with you

The moon, Earth's aeons of planetary dance
in loving poise of circumstance
Her writhing storm of life between
the ever-floating nodes of light

Funny how it is.

A bright light, morphing through the clouds

The soft touch of droplets, melting into shingles

The only time you're really able to look.

Wandering along the roads and banding together, they are everywhere at once!

a political movement--libertines, belligerent against the rule of continuous airs

The princely stream that does not love them

Raised into fists, falling to bombard a defenseless floor, the poor baby of collateral

In it there is hope for the cloud

the ground does not mind being wetted again

Halfway around the world the deserts are still empty and warm, where the sands of oceans taste wind

On islands the land is a pinprick between a cloudy sea, it is green and bleeding and drinks in the light

All the baby birds of earth look up into the raining sky, asking for?

And given no answers with godly warmth.


I dream to show you this world of mine-- the one all too unreal and divine

You are a moment of rain, rapidly becoming Ingrained within the concrete
Lost in the forever of this place

I am greedy and wanting to leave my mark, I invent hydrocarbons to build smarter oxygen drops

they one day become us

They always become us

I am an early storm, violent and unkempt-- I seek immediate retribution,
I ravage the lands

With no further to go, I will dissipate

Precipitate

And give the light space to show.

As the stars dip tonight
and the dawn light casts upon the heavens

I stand on broken, bended knee
Asking for you

How many times have I denied
how many dreams slowly forgotten
in the laughter of sheets

I have walked the tired road
Many a poet followed

and I am at a loss for Word
my breath, ragged and empty

as the moon shines full
and the wind, pregnant with joy
flows graceful upon my shoulders


Those names aren't mine anymore
I gave them in love and they sail
seeds on the gales

For my days will be spent amongst the desert
wandering
in Christ
Suffering
In Word

to speak and not be heard

To see empty skies and dried
rivverrun
To touch cold lips
and kiss
the dead as they rise

If I could be forgiven
For the angst against you

If I could be forgiven
of the sin of my heart

I would walk with the great men,
the wisest ones
the gifted of thorn.

Upon my steel face, will it rain
upon my gleaming eyes, it will be made
the envy of a soul,
trapped in perfect face
to no great final resting place

My legs, drilled into the ground
my eyes, upturned to sky unwound
released of tears and raining down
to broken glass
and grass
their souls unbound

To stare deep into a darkened me,
my admirers creep along my metal sheen
as my material decompose,
to save my thoughts from endless woe

"So long!", will I be endless seen
abrupt, *****, incongruously
commanding these vistal centuries
of concrete and perjury

poking up grey thumbs among the hills
while the putrid stench under burrows
My fingers, ever curled, do maestrate
The doleful victims of that loving fate

And when you walk upon my land,
and see my metal hanging hands
Know my voice, hear my dreams
to never make the enemy of me.

The air is wool
It is the shavings of innocence
It is the blood of atomic love
It is a momentary transience

I am a ticketeer
I own nothing but slips of paper
popcorn between the seats
rotting into kernels of knowledge to sleep with

She was and is the secret sucrose
a mysterious chemical, dreaming of becoming
Something that means more than just syrup
or unappetizing things

The earth was a open casket, nothing to hide
the soils and dreams of a ancient soul that had nothing to abide
She and I, lost amidst the widows
holding onto a dream of new life

Coupling together, we sought the stars
We stared through mirrors at ourselves in rings
Saturn and Mars
They the abodes of future eyes and ours

Not ready to see these things, chosen by god the in-between
Lost in the leaves and the lungs of her tree
I spoke to her, asking her what was
She replied rather callous that there was no love

Let's go on and shear the stars
let's take of their light and share with what's ours
Alight the funeral pyres and bait
God to give us the gifts He had never taken

Darling, I know I'm not the most beautiful thing
but I have gifts to share that don't hold in skin
they are never wrinkled, never tired, never lost of their youth
They are sweet simple liquor that will intoxicate with truth

Enough!


I am a tired Deseret dreaming of a new faith
I seek a maiden in which to build the estate
We can make the paradise of Eden on this plane
We can touch the golden calf and make it obey

Give to me your love and trust
I will give my ****** lust
My eternal heart, my corpse of dust
And push towards the solemn Eden of husks

Awake to a strange bugging nag
A tick of thought nestled between
The dripping seconds that sway my fate
And thus, the world-- for men we stay

I crawl to silent rocky planes
endeared to noting but silicates
with blood I christen their timeless face
With this flesh of mortal deviate

And soon my bones will give you pause,
my blood will pool,
my skin pale, taught and gauze

yet where you stay, alone from life,
my soul will rise

To endless light

To end this night

Reaching for cigar
Thinking of home, somewhere else
The planes fly above.

On pale monday
Beneath a marble bedspread
The touch of soft hands.

Zara, love of life,
Spake in curtled call
Allfather, lover of light,
To bestow those "ants of the earth"

And arch-bound as the sinew of bowstrings
Howling as the volley hertz roped
Along the celestial violin
Pluck souls from their bodies
In symphonic prediction

Ascende! On the wings of love's Valkyrie-- in her shining eyes will you greet the stars of the Otherworld!

________


Cleaning hide chunks from Buffalo tusks
There is a stranger, who knocks upon my door
The fire is wide and welcoming,
Borea chides the earthenwork
Outside, the stranger calls
distant through the door.

___________

A last heartsong,
The cup overflown with honey
A facsimile of symmetry
And not distinctly human
There was something to love in that,
Just the simple inclusion
Of all the other animus
Being formed in their conclusions

And following the arrowpoint
Floating by the bolt
What losses there to seek
Beyond a veiled humanity

We strike the fire one last time,
She to travel the mountain passes
Ashen eyes, holding viscous memories solidified

I to gather my quills
My thoughts and brush quickly the embers of love.
Into flame, carried deep into the hearts of the world and explored in violent disassociate
Particles red and hot

Then would Zara Spake again,

"with his eyes on the earth, will he never see but the stars."

By next week,
I will be on the road
In protest of the many forms
I found myself within.

I had asked
How many times?
Should we travel to Zion?

Should we see the majesty
for what it is?
In the glory of a setting sun
on the precipice of us

And there would be no answer
but the whisper of God on cooling winds.

Now I shall go alone
into the valley of Him, into the darkness hidden
between the flanks of the canyons
The armies of Hoodoo
where the echoes of birds
travelling south
give me peace
and sing to me
the way you never knew.

The everlasting shame
that tears bring to this parched ground
given solely to subterranean streams

I saw it once before
in coastal limestone
with strands of ivy
and tropical greens
withering into teal seas.

Please forgive the erosion
for even the stone could not consist
against the waters,
their fundamental nature
that irresistableness.

Would you have liked to know
the way the shadows parted
in newly-born morning
the potential of life
in this trying state
at the deepest depths of the canyon
and looking up upon beauty

But you could not
only the fossils in the stone
only the buried things
the lost potential
the foundation of beauty
if only given time
if only given trust
in nothing but divine

this nature,
this place
solely to God's grace
his supple touch more powerful
the kiss of light wakes me
and now,
seeping within the rock
there,
I view upon the entirety
and see it

I find it hilarious
That we idolize an image
Though beautiful and true
But not You

You Lord, our heart and greatest Lover
Will never betray
Your faithfulness and stillness
To be with you as bride
To Christ

An owed to you, master of the whitewashed office plaster,
Ruler of the water cooler,
Owner of the blue BMW i8 in the parking lot
Employed only to yourself.

In the morning, awake, spread the pomade
You bought at Neimann's just two months ago.
Unplug your car from the wall,
Hero of the Earth,
And get on the oily congested highway, talking on the phone of sales goals
And what office snack will be available today.

Quarter report, possible acquisition?
Lead your men to greener pastures
Where fields of Benjamins await your innovations
Like a modern-day Valhalla.

But it is wise to remember
that if you spend your days
taking calls
Life won’t get past the busy tone.

Could I tell you,
That you were supple
as the string
that guides the long days
and the careful nights
the musculature of the mice
that comb the fields
looking for the loamy place
there we sat

Could I tell you
That you were the soft
gentle breeze
that tousled my hair
angered my nose
upturned
and sneezed
no compliment to give
yet constantly
there

when I hold a ruby in my hand
or a pearl by your ear
it is you I see

I cannot guide these words the same

I will machinate
But never create
the same feeling
you gave

The soil does not loam today
it is still and packed
at long last
it rests

The sun is high
the fields filled
the roofs shackled with doubt
the sadness that enters the valley
with the foggy morning
and leaves
an empty dusk

with but the sparking ruby
of Mars
or the twinkle
of Venus
and I am all at once, lost.

Evidence of walls
Tinted glass a slight veil
Of what have I seen?

What is my job at end of day
All hand or claw will clench my teeth
and make the enemy of me
Sicken with the thought

Yum and dumb
I am Kerouac at Verdun
I rhyme and dine
and live and die
and speak and shout
and sputter and cry
and happy
and sad
and glad
oh man


oh man when upon I reach that hue
somewhere between vermilion and due

east of where I remember clear
Santa Clara and Oakland then

Everything shifts into red
I've been in this maw of waking dread

Since half past eleven.

Coming out and going in,
Breathing
IN out
back again

Waiting, waiting
Slumber soon
Awake again,
Back at noon

Roll and roll repeat and pleat
I cannot write ******* sonatas or Beethoven I cant even rhyme a ******* word to itself with all this technology nobody will hear me

Return late at night
34mph on the gangway
Decimated and tired
rotated and unstoppable

When I come back around the cul-de-sac
the green candle shines my return
Flag hangs big and ogreish
Waiting for something more

I replaced my turntable
Black and wood on wood desk
Grains matched unintentionally

On one speaker I placed my snowglobe
Big Ben tall and wide
Snow stirs when I play

On the other The Capitol
Big heavy white dome
Smaller and wider but still just as lost
Blizzard of turning particle

What mood do i turn to?
Daft and electronic
Queen of hearts and misery
Dance of mad villainy?

33.333333 repeating
An album cover to cover
slip safely in between
read the inherent vibrative tone
glide my eaten fingernail
And sing the songs through my teeth

33.33333 repeating
Songs forever maintained
Never compressed, just expressed
Saved into physical form

33.3333 repeating
Round and round Fibonacci of doom
Spiral totally in control
There is another side to this story I never knew

33.333 repeating
They were going to make movies on vinyl screens
with vinyl tape and vinyl face
Then we got cable

33.33 repeating
Mesmerized by the glide of the needle
softer than a lover's touch
sharper than an atomic clock

33.3 repeating
It will be time to flip sides
Soon I will know no evil
Only the darker satellite

33 repeating
I repeat:
Listen closely and find the spot

Queue it up and fall apart

You give me the feeling,
Of Dido on the funeral pyre,
And I am the wood

You have me as some beast of the wilderness
Fears God in the spear and the teeth of metal
And I cannot help but run towards it

You are a sickness that has developed in my head, an idealism that may do nought but destroy me

You are terrifying and controlling, destructive and wholly
Consuming the flesh of my brain and in pain Perpetual

And you go on not caring.

Soon it'll be me
Staring down the nebulas
The contortions of the sky
The stars that wander by
In my eye
Bright
And almost divine

Just practice nodes
Trailing the wheels
Rotating per Fortune's minute
Decisions

This place
The vessel I will abate
At moments end I feel the hand of fate
RIP and tear my string from the yarn
And born again
Somewhere in the galactic arm

Lying poets, they take their words to street
And sweep their hidden eyes to the pissant stone of curb
And drink in the sound of vehicle
Dreaming to be heard as loudly
But soft
And dreary
As the cloud
that casts its watchful shadow
Over the golden hills at the edge of space
And perpetually disposed themselves
Of any real fluidity

The sun pecks at the skin of the earth, as the waves of heat dance for her
And I become lost in the very essential part of it
That runs across the blades of grass in a quiet park
Where children scream gleefully and rub up against the chain-link
And the dogs empty themselves in feeling

The church bells, a trolleycar, the hobo collecting cans from an oasis of free trash bins
I drink the taste of **** and flower fields in the sweet summer sun

I could not believe what I had begun

The dream of Milton, my friend Kerouac, the Republic
The marble columns on Sansome
They are a treat to my ever-aging eyes
Seeking something in the dirtied troughs of heat
In the summer sun

But when will I be done?

Standing upon a terminal of the Pacific,
I am as calm as the waves.
As the sun falls
The colors gradient and gasp an infinite breadth
Of nothingness between the bowing photons.

I am dreary and blue,
Blue as lapis,
Listening to the waves that make no sounds--
But the sifting sands on the edge of the earth.

There is haze on this day,
And the light asks me to see it differently
Than all the days before
It calls to me, an empty voice, saying to me

That it carries the birds
And the winds
And the gulls
And the sins
Of my friends and brothers who live amongst the hills
And dine amongst the trees
And cry together between their sheets

Of metal and mold
Plastic and cold,
The earth gives me a shiver upon my skin.

In this everything,

I am lost.

In this moment,

I am skin.

On the border of the horizon that cuts
The oceans and the air
Ships without sails fight the gales and win,
Coming to rest in their deliverance.

I want to wear a Persian shirt,
Run through meadows in a Celtic skirt--

I want to Don a Russian hat,
And plant my *** on the throne of Rome.

I want to bomb my words upon
London, Lisbon; Taipei, Taiwan

I would diffuse my fissile mind
And launch theoretical material like guided missiles

Give me this world of sand as a ball,
And children on the playground to toss against the wall--

It is a gift of thought to view the bulb
Of this time as a light in the firehouse
That ultimately dies
Only to be remembered by Liver's More.

It is asking the last drop in the sink
Where it thinks it should be drawn to
A gift to it is knowing
It will one day be whole again

Without thinking, heme seeks life through the energy of blanket air
Without thinking, we give farewell
Last thoughts in our misted halls of mind

I couldn't bear to view the color of blood spilled on stone
In the moonlight, all of it appears dappled black and white

All the good that you swear

It is asking love in the drops on the car
Asking for them to clean ever-dirtying metal
Asking for them to wash sins, wash lacquer from immutability itself

And it will never end.

Were I not in love with you,
The rivers would run dry--
The grass, grown gold with age
Where hills rattle with the cry
Of those blades

I would I were in love,
And float upon your mists
Travel to far lands
And lost to all your minds

With you my love,
I would dance
Wither my voice away
Calling upon your name--

The pungent fruit of tropics,
The shining jewel of cave
Your voice guides me as a dog
Garnering the scent

I would lie upon the fields
And tell you how
Humans are like tulips

Bright buds dancing in the wind

You smile, and it was good.



Love I will span the gaps between the world
I will fill the empty oceans
With thoughts of you
I will leave no electron unturned
No atom unexcited
In the prospect of knowing you

Do not give up on my spine,
On my bones,
On this calcium

On vital thoughts
And serious winds
Do not walk away from the field
And leave them in the rain.

I am not smart
I am the amalgamation of smart

I almost cried thinking about you.
Your soul
all the tall tales you spun
spiders dancing across the stars now
I miss you
I never knew you
I want to
so badly
it hurts

You'd hate it here
they bastardized you
sold your words for a dime
those jewels you saw in the night
rocks.
just rocks.

that is, now
Nobody wanted that fantastic ruby sky
and ****-green mossy aquamarine
now we stare at screens.
screens.

They'll kick you off the train
eye you with suspicious gaze
if they catch you all alone
spun along some interstate

We can't do what you did anymore
try as we want to.

No running from the law
or responsibility
or inevitability
or anything quite like that

and the only time i spoke to god
he told me there was places for me to see
somewhere for me to be
someone for me to meet
and i still don't know
what that means...

I didn't have no writing buddy
my buddy left for the dusty drone of Bakersfield
and now i'm all alone
Disenchanted and enthusiastic
about all the things everyone hates
and the history that keeps sifting
like sand through the lobes of my skull

Jack, come back
give me a minute or two
maybe a vision of my wildest dreams
I'd love so much to talk to you

I keep dreaming and seeing the beauty that lies in the center of the
Tao, that long winding tao
of ancient street
with no shoes worn here in San Francisco
that imaginary terminus you dreamed
not here, silly me.
I started here
you wound your end through here

I don't know what mine'll be
Not a hemorrhage
maybe
of the brain
since that's where my troubles lie
or my prostate,
since that's where my vision lies
yours was the stomach
that great trust in gut
it let you down
and lifted you up

God didn't give me that at all
he gave it to you
oh how freeing that must have felt
to know
truly

In the valley,
It is grassland and heat--
And God cooks the worms and the water beneath
Hides from his sight.

But there you are with me,
The smell of flesh and insence
The perfume of love and word
And this valley is no longer
Than a longing for you.

Would you step with me on these
Quaking soils
Laughing along warbling streams
Dancing on heated sands
Tracing likeness in the leaves
With me?

Hidden beneath the cloudless sky,
The air breathes life into this valley
And leads towards the sea.
You and me,
We together know where these
Sorry summits go--

To the sea,
You and me,

We trace our paths along the floor
Depressions and empty spaces where our legs were raised together
Where we moved together
Where we touched down to earth
Were we felt safety in its breast
Enough to clasp our hands as one
And not be unbalanced

Love,
This valley
The pathways
The mouth that ends our gaze--

This is but a grain of sand
The love I have for you
Is that ocean, cooled and new
On our bare skin it will tonic
And find rest in every section of you

And me,

I will be warmed by your body
I will splash between your fingers
I will glide along your hips
When you push against me

Fall into me and know that between the alien air,
Stand the safest sands
You have place to rest your feet
And buoyant,
Float your greatest vessel along the tip of me.

I love you.
It is this.

Finally, that we may be all at once all at once, when the coil is unwound and exhausted and begins to cool
And the corneal fillaments glaze into placid glass marble lakes, reflecting the small spurn of the world they held

That our soul should be upwelled
To the lapping stones of Valhalla, to be arisen by great arms and carried to our tableplace
To jest eternally of the great disgrace...

And woe of our whales, lost long afar
And the men who hunted them incessant
Pleasently warmed and vibrating with the humming mumble of the upper yards,

Worn travellers return to tired halls.





And sing,

"Hei do Yey-- be come what may,
High winter hünde beheld at bay
And Yeh they feed in rare reprieve
On souls of such we will not say.

Hei do lum-- what will be done,
What valor hark thy martyrdom
Upon thine breaths and storied crests
Upon thy tomb, thy charter won

Hei do ill, ye sum thy will
To heed thy lands upon the hill
Down back from whence thy kingdom lent
The battle-horn, heard she so shrill"

And I confessed,

"HEI DO LAI, TO WHICH I CRY,
MY CITY SLEEPS BELOW THE SKIES
AND DOES NOT SEEK TO SEE MY FEET,
OR EVERMORE AFFIX MY EYES."

Awake, the empty chamber of my mind
Calls out to paired and endless sky
The thought of you, a galloped course
The heels of your palm, struck with force
I cannot claim the earth as mine,
Just as she do flee the pick of eye
To wallow in sorrows of course divine
Calls out my heart, with verses hoarse.

I have but land to wander soon,
My passions held in heaven's sent
The ancient glass of sky full hue
The earth's embrace a lover's swoon
The soft edges of aluminium bent
These are the ways I'll remember you.

There the three mates below the simultaneous dirt
in foggy hour,
Sunday stir

Bird chirp beyond the leafless limbs
Burnt paper masks around the leaflet scene
Awash the winter weighted storm, a propeller-sound

rumbles the bumbled air

a hum-drum conundrum drumming engine from the cloud

a hum in the back pocket



at once I am looking up
unfamiliar craft
"who is it?"
knocks at the pod bay door

a small shape, splasmatic
falls beyond hillcrest into grey

f la sh

all is gone

There is nobody to leave you in the sands,
Where you leave yourself and the range of thoughts flows freely,
And the 20 mules are stuffed in some museum--their final gift

There is no place to clean your wounds
Just sand to stunt the bleeding

The Paiute, drunk off cactus and smoking themselves into oblivion

They understood that the desert has no need for sadness
the desert IS sadness.

Searching for what? Food? It's all spiked and scared of you out here--
No love on this plane, just in the shape of things

The nick of *****

The bleed of seed

The dream

Eternity.

In the viscous ichor of tryptophan
Steal me away for a moment
Lead my endless toes
Eyes behind a waving fan

In an empty ballroom, paired electron
share our energetic light
In the everlasting yearning mind

With regal flow you go
Silk water against the door
Dream of me you sweet pea
Soon again with you I'll be

It hates for me to see you go
a fake alone particulate door
Dream of you far past adieu
And yet let no man aware of thee.

Sometimes my vision starts to vibrate
Back and forth,
Like the firmament of reality
Is ripping apart into dreams
And I wonder if one day it'll go
All the way
And I'll just zoom off into some strange bruise of blue
And purple-black
Heart attack

Reading HR on the wall
Thinking how far we have to fall
Feeling the pleasant rush of air
Run across my free cheeks

And I keep blinking,
Thinking that if I just want a little more
Push a little more
Maybe the word will crack open the rains of fortune
And whisk me away like an egg

Grinding my fingers against the tree,
Trying to eat at the bark
Like a little ******
But not so wrong, honestly.

I find more often than not
When I oft retreat into enclosed thought,
Stepping stones across the pond
Of reality,
I dream of something that could never be.

Like a stone,
Crashing into a celestial dome
Only a fraction of an inch
And destroying wholly
All things that called it home.

Clawing deep at wormword
Blood on fingers, blood and hand
To fall ever softly toward the beautiful
******
To some perfect miracle.