i see the world
and the people
who inhabit it:
the angry
the corrupted
the oblivious
the lost
everyone hell bent
to find their way
put on this spaceship
we call earth
with absolutely no say
in the matter
who are we to judge
how people go about
their lives?
aren't we all
just trying
to sort out
what we didn't ask for?

My most monstrous fear that eats at me
(like a mechanic devours his rare, ****** steak)
is that one day I'll wake up and be normal
(normal as mothers publicly yelling at ADD sons)
that I'll lose my gifts, or any real form of expression
(like the misguided lawyer working on Thanksgiving)
that I'll be another faceless statistic in a fat, thick crowd
(normal as ignoring the gifts we've each inherited)

last night i dreamt
a tooth of mine (maxillary canine)
could simply slip in & out of
                                                    place..
of­ten at times of
great personal inconvenience:
interviewing for a job...
making kitchen counter love to a gorgeous new woman (it fell out & down t'ween her *******/O horror!)
during a presentation in ancient architecture on Ghulguleh, Afg.
-- poor Ghulguleh destroyed by Genghis, wreathed in flame!
(truly i come undone/as did that ancient city!)

found myself thinking
"this is no blessing!
what purpose does creating a horrid gap
between incisor & canine serve but to repel?"



when awake it became clear
i shall never understand my own mind.

i'll wait for you in libraries
hiding out with all the other
dead romantic writers and
their sorrowful, longing words

i'll wait for you in the night
wandering the dark streets
looking though empty avenues
for any glimpse of your soul

i'll wait for you in a flower shop
in the middle of downtown Portland
where you pick out any combination
of flowers, and still be more pleasant

where do you wait for me, love?

****** if I'm through,
****** if I do
stick around to
   let you feed on me,
   see all the gold turn to green,
           o r
this apparent love
turn to mean
something
a little stronger,
perhaps, last a little longer
than those cold, stygian nights
in some stranger's bed,
all those times you could've not
played with my head,
but yet, instead,
you did,
then you'd fib
and say you didn't mean,
oh, but I've seen it -
the dark in you, too,

play(th)ing; whatcha thinkin'?

I've unpacked myself
for you
and the wolves in your logic,
I've unset myself
for the second
I could see it again -
and those wolves concurring with your logic,

I found you hiding in the mirror,
creature of the lion's share,
drowned you in all my care,
                             my love,
a heart without sufficient sleep,
you tell me -
what was I supposed to think?
you made it so easy,
but how it got within me
I'm afraid to know,
was 'fraid to go
into the light without you,
but as I please -
I'll just
keep
going

Everyone loves to talk ****
Poets
Activists
Novelists
Academics
Professors the most

Summon them up
get a consensus

(the kikuyu are a model
not the annoying vermin of the jewish suburb)

Fear is the core.
America,
Fear is yr core.

Capitalism and all its intricacies
and its lies
its imminent failure

(anorexics in red shirts laugh in hell)

Marx and Chomsky
and Precious

Open a window-
crack that-
BREAK OPEN A WINDOW IN THE WALL

let the mist leave
it will only consume you if you learn to use it instead of oxygen

A clear room will be a safe space
to paint
and film
and write
and dry off

To talk a los otros sobre Spanish y la omkeer