the mushroom may
grow next to
other mushrooms
but not on top of them.

Two may decide
to grow along side
one another.
they may lean
so close that
it seems their
base is one,
but still each
stands level but
seperate on the
same ground.

look even closer
and the individual
mushroom is, itself,
a relationship of its own.

each mushroom,
from stem to cap,
is a population of
individual and free
single celled organisms
who bond together
for strength and structure,
to abet the survival of all.

really puts the
human condition
in perspective.

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

dangling on the drapery
clawing

we stare
bug eyed
out windows

at lives

both ours and others

as we steadily sink down.

triangle
triangle
spell it for me.

how much more happy
  can i possibly
    be?

oh, i
thought
you had
all
    the
answers.

there is little substance in
affinity marked by proximity.
it is no true measure of
commitment or loyalty but
merely a constant exchange
of fabricated facades. such
is the folly of friendship.

whether nature ever
actually achieved compassion,
it has surely since been corrupted.
emotionally encapsulated,
acting as if not to
affect those in the
evading environment.

selfish must have proven
more efficient than selfless.
the superiority of self priority
and depraved self devotion.

still it doesn't seem sufficient,
at least not to me.

everblue junipers
caress the wet sidewalk
and twigs hug the curb
as they float down the street.

tomorrow sand will appear
at the edges of the road.

I haven't
watered my garden
in over a week.

now spear shaped tendrils
of liquid hydrogen dioxide
plummet down at
twenty two miles per hour
making patterns across the
wet surface of the earth.

in the bright spots
rain drop splashes
stumble back and forth
across the dance floor
like cymbal crashes.

wasps,
grounded
by wet wings,
begin their slumber
early,
jaws locked,
legs dangling
off the stem of a flower
whose petals are
battered and wet
like fry ready fish.

the newly
pregnant
ocean
swells unnoticeably.

streams emerge,
rivers rob banks,
puddles form
around
orangeskin pores;

and the
everblue junipers
caress the wet sidewalk.

it's just another
cold rainy
autumn day.
the wind is wet
and the sky is gray.

there really isn't that
much more to say,
'cause it's just another
cold rainy
autumn day.

autumn paints the leaves
in gold and red.
gives them life before
they all fall dead.
the cold wind helps
as the branches shed
off their colorful clothes
and stand **** instead.

its just another cold rainy autumn day
the wind is wet and the sky is gray
there really isn't that much more to say
'cause its just another cold rainy autumn day.

we're all just humans
in this
paper thin
onion skin
stretch of humanity.

and more than that!

we're all alive
in this
whirlpool
world
of everything
just being.

and so, with that,
i can celebrate
that my eyelids
rest on my eyes
when i sleep at night.

great tear colored shapes,
violent glass protrusions,
glisten in the distance,
defying wind and sky.

head lights
blink in the dead night
and race to the red light.
got no place to go
but they still go

only humans and horses
have hymens.

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