tree hugging trinomials
a blast and passed the
the ebbing tide.

fortuitous silence.
collapsed.

he was walking lazily
along a cliff, when he slipped
and as his side hit the cliffside
his hand found a tree

but she was young
and he wondered
if her roots would hold

coming
and away
at once
as if the
destination
was
a static point
upon a graph
of all there
was to be.

but soon
becoming
in a way
a motion
that refused
to stay
grounded
in a single
place
for so much
more
could
be.

from above the view is of
checkerboard lawns
sterile cement
indiscernible pawns

from below the surface is
swirling with parts- and when the
buddha farts
an angel yawns

arboreal
capitulation
to the last saw;
just lying there,
rusting and dull,
a senile serial killer.

a dirt water droplet
circlestalks the sun
like a vulture.


wild flowers
split the concrete
like jackhammers and
the vines hang low
over city streets,
while unmaintained
botanical gardens
shrivel and decay,
breeding mushy immensities.

bears hibernate in subways
and deer flock in herds
and oh, the birds..
the birds.

spiders hang webs
from ancient clock towers
while moth returns
to chasing moon.

dams crumble,
the water flows,
sea reclaims the shore.

but the
eldest
trees
still weep
when memory pains,
and so surrender
to the saw,
however harmless
out of hand.

curved like a chess piece
the queen
scarf on her neck, fleece
so clean

all watch, none speaks
hair curls round cheeks

in drips scarf slips
over nips and dips

then hips

wrapped tight in denim
deadly sight as venom

and i wonder
what's under

in beauty i bask
and rudely i ask

a tease
or a lemon squeeze
with ease?

and these

words of sort
fall short
they thwart
the court

abort
abort

being chased through the land
of yellow skies and orange sand
a giant bearded dragon fish/licks
a butterfly that ***** a wish
the triangle, he smokes a pipe
with shapes and forms of every type
and then I notice when I blink
i might have had too much to drink

then tree spider approaches eye
a burried bear lets out a cry
the chicken, rabbits, and the snail
face off 'gainst something with a tail/breast
feeding horse, a slith'ring tree
a human dog, staring at me
an orange sky and yellow sand
it's getting hard for me to stand

the red face plays three string guitar
to wondrous creatures, all bizarre
a footprint stains the tan brown floor
out green walled windows, so much more
the light bulb hangs from tail of bird
and all this starts to feel absurd
the windows that I once hung up
look different through an empty cup