I am a snake
    winding my way
     to my destination
     shedding skin
along the way

It keeps me sane...

I push my mind
    to different places
     at different times
    in accord with
a rhythm only i
can hear

If I stay in
  one place
too long
    
The
        karmic
wind
         comes
howling
               in
my
             ear

Saying,
             "Go. . . Go"

there are days
             that I fly out the
                             top of my head

and float above
                            the world
                            in the stillness
                            of space

-watching my body move,
                              and talk,
                              and feel

and all the little people
around are doing
much the same

and

they think
they
are
alone

while millions are without power on the east coast
and ocean waters rise high with the rage of nature,
nobody named Sandy bothers me here-
safe and serene in the Midwest, my home

no waters have risen to challenge me,
and no ghouls have come knocking
at my door, though it be Hallows Eve

no fairies have come to take me away
no children or beggars have showed up
to accept my offerings and
free a soul from purgatory

I have lit no fires,
I have butchered no cattle
And I certainly have not
tried to raise departed spirits

the only vestige of Samhain so far
is the thought, a simple remembrance
of the way things used to be
in the pagan myths
with their reverence for the dead

o, the dead have been here, yes
-imitations of them at least
littered on my TV screen
like bloodied tin cans in the street

this is how I revere the dead,
by watching remakes of old
slasher movies, directed by zombies

in them I find masks and screaming
-lots of blood and nonsense
and not one mention
of the way things used to be

Begins foot tall grip-

mountain brain to it
       of and tall his shapes
crumble in poison operation
        from bend and strangle
mountain to bones

strangle and operation
                        from **** foot underpass groans

                         begins

They smoke wide legs city and tall the streets
Delivering the cold grip-
                                             and bend
                               crumble in of his tall bones
                               the foot with on blood

blood highways and
all of concrete smoke

They with on center
Oversees poison

My multitudinous dreams,
cold to years-
map their unreality

front of and show to buzzsaws
realize communication as screams them,
                        know you chaos so the curse breaking the to
and up you grind face, yours, face, your glass that conversational
we to a my contained them

anyone who look is a show bending thoughts
              break snarls buzzsaws and dust
     and the anyone who in tail-whipping
              wake tail-whipping into machines
made flow in grind calm, the us-

front of lips explodes from and look is a I
              I you bending calm, quality shake the circuits
              that time I'll between front of mechanical machine
from machine thoughts break we and hinge them
grind the calm,
                               being that apologize the face,

apologize the in I is a snarls time them air face,
              its you still, in in outshine the descends
              and face wind being we us-

front of dust and wind show my
to a the and explodes from look in in being same .

saying clock, me your moments got light-filled in
            and descends machine mechanical eye eye