I walked in a sea of zombies,
circled a million roundabouts,
wandered
the streets in the reverse.
Nobody noticed me
with my two-week stubble,
my body odor emanated
as I cruised through the rubble,
waiting for twilight.

Dried baby llamas grimaced
while children played jacks
& men sold coca,
green bag mountains of it
stacked high like the cordillera
with chicken bones
lying around,
configured
in all directions,
it smelt magical.

And when
the sun finally fell,
I witnessed
the poverty stricken elite,
totally lost on their own
two feet.
I wanted to relate,
to feel human,
so I joined the winos
on a dark unknown corner,
sniffed the cool air
& could finally relate
to a time in space.

O Honey Child,
I ain't no astronaut,
but I sure do
love, crave
that citrus-flavored Tang!

Hey Baby,
do you want to get naughty,
play around a bit
with my big monkey?

Go ahead Sweetie,
shake my hairy
Orangutan!

And Darling,
don't you be scared.
He won't bite
& I won't fight it.

Please believe me Sugar,
you're so uhhhhh,
so beguiling,
I promise,
just kiss me,
I'll be all smiles!!!

There's a great owl
outside
my closed window,
hooting
to the rhythm
of air conditioners
kicking on and off.
It's melody seems askewed,
as if it's toxicated
on the technology
of finely tuned thermostats,
seemingly
out of whack.
And when I think
about those places without
controlled climates,
I wonder if the songbirds there
sound better than a drunken
bird of prey here.

She told me
boys were always
part of her curriculum.
Seeing her in action,
I truly believe her.
She rocks me
like someone
who's earned
a PHD.

It's pretty hard
to describe
without
getting frisky.

I've sipped the nectar of the goddesses,
kissed the toes of princesses,
licked the backsides of queens
& became intoxicated.

Now afflicted, I'm addicted
to divine feminine-power
forever
& loving
every single minute of it.

I just walked by her
& lost my breath.
O boy,
the incredible
feeling in my *****
for her
was immediate,
very palpable.

I mean dude,
I fell for her hard,
like somebody
pulled the rug
right out
from under my feet.
& I usually don't fall
for the ladies like that,
but man,
she was smoking hot,
ratta-tat-tat,
super-sweet.

I figured
it must have
something chemical,
because
I don't do drugs
on the first date.

Tangerine splintered the pitch
& coffee lifted spirits,
hard
bold
aroma
wafted the hallway,
a cool breeze whistled
& wool tickled my chin,
each piggie wiggled
to remind them of existence.

I heard my mojo calling
in the sound of a million crickets,
singing their song in splendid harmony.
Under the smiling moon,
I saw shadows amongst the conifers,
in a place we once called home.

And now all I have
is your handmade dreamcatcher,
a bandana with your fragrance
imbedded in the paisley
& memories of you on me.

She is so sweet, so very fine.
Pure succulent honey drips
from her moist layers,
my face covered
with chopped nuts,
*******,
her waves,
her trembling,
overwhelming,
I could eat her forever.

The froth on your perkiness
took me to the brink.
And ya know,
I think I like this,
kissing you in this hot bath,
a tub full of bubbles.

I always wake up crazy,
not with visions of padded cells.
But with those of primal swelling
& me dwelling
within the confines
of your lovely prison
walls coated
with me lying,
bathed in sweat,
in the middle
of a ***
of twisted sheets,
I always wake up crazy.

She wore her bandana
like the bikers do
& walked with the aire
of a tiger
& when I looked
down,
I saw
the cutest toes
painted
the deepest rose.

She just looked at me
with a twinkle
& a wry smile
& she sauntered away,
the fragrance of honeysuckle
trailing behind her.

The walk to the 'Brain Hole'
was shorter than expected,
but the muffled screams
from behind locked doors
I knew would be here,
so they were of no concern,
and besides,
the fix was in place.
These hooligans
had no idea who they
we're messin' with.
You don't just sign up
for the Moonstone Project,
you get selected.
Galactic insurrection
is a serious business
with serious consequences.
And besides,
I still had the pink pill
hidden in a safe dark place.
What, me worry
about a few brain ******* machines?
Not me.
This was going to be fun.

Sooner or later
the time comes
to pick yourself up,
reach for them bootstraps,
pull up out of the dark mire.
Your fire smolders
& staying in the pit
keeps you so.....
but you have so much
more to live,
give yourself
a fighting chance,
flame on & fly away
into the sunlight.

Imagine getting on
a big jetliner
for a holiday
& your flight
strays near Russia
with Putin at the helm.
Not a comforting thought,
huh?

In an age of plastic-alternatives,
brain implants & piercings,
augmentation & body building,
we can alter our states of being.

Little pills can fix headaches,
stop viral infections,
make our wood get harder,
even clean up bouts of acne.

We can paint our faces,
decorate our eyes,
replace body parts,
exchange them too.

But if we knew the cure,
could figure out the genetic code,
had the solution for stupidity,
we could change the universe.

She's so delicious,
exudes femininity
& lovingkindness,
wears the finest lace
with easy access.

In the ****,
morning,
noon & night,
I could dine
on her tasty dish
forever.

Like this evening
under a full moon,
we're going to delve
into each others
****** delicacies,
gulp the sacred wine.
I think I'll infect her
with even more
of my raw nectar.
She say's
we'll spoon
afterwards.
I call her
my sweet dessert.

O Lord,
how wholesome she is!

She's my mountain rose
& I'm her blue spruce.
I'd love to spread
her patchouli
all over
my ylang ylang,
then kiss her cypress,
give her a bit of my goldenrod
& lay in the lemongrass
holding hands
to view
the star anise
wasting thyme.

I saw you at the county fair
& I knew I had to have you.
Your skin so fair,
you walked as if
you were on air,
every eye was upon you
as the minstrel
played romance.

Our eyes spoke volumes,
I was consumed
by your loveliness
& quickly we agreed
to meet
secretly
in the shadows,
just up the cobblestoned street.

When the sun set
& the stars showed
their pretty little faces,
I gathered myself
& headed toward that place,
the place of our fiery embrace.

I melted again
when I saw you
& held you ever so close.
my fingers undid your lace
& I was swept into you,
determined to leave my mark.

The noises we made
startled the meadowlarks
& I filled you
with my good pleasure.

O how I love the county,
fair maiden!

Jesus,
this is just swell,
I'm scrunched again
in 5A.

Hey there
Miss Flight Attendant,
this one's smaller
than the last aircraft.

Can't I get
a complimentary drink
or something else
to make me
feel numb?

I hate being
twisted like a pretzel!

Oh well,
at least there's a window,
that's some consolation!

Some think about it
more than others,
their minds
absorbed by forbidden fruit,
hungry,
ravenous,
whetting their appetites
day & night,
fighting sweet urges,
lost in their
imaginations,
those close encounters of
the sensual kind
that everybody thinks about
(some more than others).

Spicy aromas
Cobbled streets and loud barkers
Mysterious people

On the fringes in space
lurk the watchers,
with a darkness like leprosy,
disfiguring in their wake.

Once exposed
to the evil
in their hearts,
there is no cure,
but abstinence.

And that kills the poet.
And when the poet dies,
the world loses  
one more piece
of its soul.

Cut knuckles,
cracked fingers,
shoulders on fire,
cramped feet
& a lower back that kills.

You grabbed your next fix,
got my fire started,
held me between
your luscious lips,
inhaled me deep,
you ****** me
long and hard,
got intoxicated
on my copious amount
of nicotine,
flicked my ash.
I raised your heartbeat,
made you momentarily
feel euphoric,
then you snuffed me out,
crushed me
into a mountain
of other
burnt,
spent
butts.

Green grass & rolling hills create
the perfect scenario for
our outside adventure,
the one where
we lay the blanket down,
pop the cork on the Merlot,
eat a few sweet grapes
then get down
to the important business
of sensuous
outdoor *******.

There's nothing
like songbirds birds singing
& busy bees buzzing,
kissing your delicious-lips
under the brilliant sun,
feeling the gentle breeze waft around us,
sniffing natural fragrances & hearing
the sound of our body fluids tumbling.

To scream,
to call out
each other's names
at that special-moment
of our mutual-ecstasy
is unworldly,
so Godly & sacred,
even the Heavens listen
to our joy.

Chicken-games with dogs
Spinning circles around trunks
Birds of prey waiting

We blew into bars
like we had nothing to lose.
Disco ***** & ***** tonks,
beach clubs or The Ritz,
it didn’t matter,
we were oblivious
to the surrounding action.

A brotherhood of unknowns,
we were usually drunk,
ready to strike
anywhere,
anytime,
we could even
drop in from the sky
on command,
sober.


Like cobras, we
had venom running
through our veins,
our hearts pure,
but mess with us,
heads would definitely roll.
I was good with
concussive-devices too.

Once I threw one
into a pit of vipers,
heard it explode,
saw the aftermath,
so drinking in bars ain’t ****,
I love cheap perfume.

You
were raised
on diesel fuel,
coal dust & corn liquor,
inhaled gnats by the ton.

I
want
you to spit in my mouth,
to taste your toxicology,
to absorb your proteins
& dirt.

After the hunting trip that year,
Charlie was never the same,
some said he was totally insane,
'cause he now acted a little queer
at certain times of the month
& some other bizarre things
that were happening around him.

On full moon nights,
he'd take his shoes off,
throw on a plaid shirt & jeans
& stay out late,
would come home
early in the morning.
Usually his clothes
would be hanging in tatters,
ripped to shreds.

Other weird things
were definitely noticeable.
He had a sudden
strange aversion
to pure silver,
neighborhood cats & dogs
avoided him
& his incessant
high-pitched howling
in the shower was annoying
to say the least.

Whatever happened to
Charlie is debatable,
but calling him insane
may be a little over the top.
I wished the guys would stop.
I know plenty of them
who act the same way,
freaking hypocrites.

I want to spread myself
like marmalade,
cover her
with my wholesomeness,
from her crown
down to
her pretty little toes.

Lord knows
how sweet she is,
I'll spread peanut butter love
all over the place,
look at her scrumptious-face
& eat her whole.

Gently rock,
soothe me,
focus,
focus on us,
feel the flow
of me
inside
of you,
high in Heaven.

It's not easy to discern,
one must listen intently
to hear it,
but it's definitely
hidden in there.
A lovely girl
trapped
in a grown woman's voice.
It speaks of spicy make-up
& striped bobby socks,
Goldilocks & kitten tails.
And it makes
all the difference
in the world
to me.

Intergalactic
Meteorite-spore-plague
Apocalypse now

I have sensuous
visions of us
constantly floating
around in my head.
I see me
kneeling behind you,
buried deep
in another dimension,
gripping
your sweet hips
& you,
O you,
those primal sounds
make me crazy,
you in full bloom,
split,
receiving my all.

She loves it
when we go fishing,
enjoys all of the activities,
spearing & angling,
gathering & netting,
anything to get
down on the shore.
Her boy in the boat
always bounces,
craves more of my dangling.
She's a looker,
baits my hook just right,
I don't fight her
& it ain't no shrimp.
Nooooo,
no wimp here,
I always use my big long pole
looking for her sweet fishing-hole.
When I finally get there,
find the right spot,
I scrape her scales
from every conceivable angle
to uncover her tasty pearl.
I give her a whirl,
shuck the shell out of her
as she squeezes me hard
with her tight mussel,
ready to receive my roe,
a splish,
a splash,
a huge shot
of my hot cocktail sauce,
curling her toes.

Chastity wore pretty tiny flowers
in her spiraling dreads,
a fragrance of patchouli
wafted from her lithe form,
she was genuine spirit.
Her sister Divinity
loved summer dresses
and had even tighter dreads,
butterflies twirled
around her regal head.
They were the coolest sisters
on Mother Earth
& every time
they visited a forest,
they practiced
a wonderful habit.
They'd sing & chant
& dance & hug
aspens & pines,
chestnuts & sumacs,
hickorys & walnuts,
cherries & birches.
No joke, they even
hugged mighty oaks.

My friend Billy loves
living his life on the edges,
he's married to a warrior-woman.
He told me once he loved warrior-women,
just didn't like being hitched to one.
I'm still trying to figure
out that conundrum.

I swear I feel like I've been here before.
Looking at road ****,
the concept of deja vu is alive and well
at the moment.
I feel this welling building up inside me,
taking me back,
inhaling
a blend of thick diesel smog
& sweet sickly odors.

I watch you from every direction,
hang onto you every chance I get.

I never fail you with your desires,
my tongue is long & sticky.

I'd stand upside down,
if you wanted me to.

I can be anything you want,
can change quickly with your body heat.

I think so highly of you,
like a pedestal of the sun.

I think you're a whole lot of fun,
the sweetest of the very sweet.

Me not Tarzan, Me Chameleon.

I dive headlong into the fray
on a secret mission,
so exuberant
craving the lava flow,
the adrenalin fixation,
creating an *******
in the warrior-mind,
she covers me with
explosive pixie-dust.

Lust shakes my rivets loose
in a fiery demise,
'till I see
those Chakra-eyes
begging for release
again & again.

I thought about you this morning &
wondered about so many things.
Did you sleep well or spin in between your sheets,
dream of anything special, mind draw a blank,
drink strong coffee, spiced-tea or have neither?
Perhaps you’re a juicer, do you fancy
carrots or strawberries or both?

Enjoy two Eggs Benedict or three scrambled,
have whole wheat toast or rye, some nutritious
granola crunch with a bit of soy milk?
Did you partake in a quick steamy-shower or
draw a soothing hot bath with lit candles & soft-jazz?
I’m wondering if you wore your hair
up in a bun or let it fall down,
all round your pretty angel face?
Did you apply make-up or
go Au Naturel, frown
putting on lipstick & smile
getting dialed in
for the start of a brand new day?
Did you dress to the nines or go business-like,
perhaps a trip to the gym for a spot of yoga?

Did you drive your earthy VW-bug or rev up the sporty Saab,
take the trolley, ride the moped, or hop on a bike?
Where you late to your work or
did you get there early enough
so you’d have plenty of time
to think about me?
I think about that too.

The governments of the world have united,
acting upfront but they’ve really gone underground,
implementing a behind-the-scenes scheme
to defraud the global-people
of their money & sovereignty.

While we battle semantics, terrorist & drugs,
it’s business as usual for the real thugs,
who keep filling our pockets with gizmos
like I-Pods & I-Pads & tablets,
modern technologies
making our life’s simpler,
draining us of our hearts & souls,
forcing us to write about what’s missing
in this universe of abundance,
stolen by the greed-mongers.

I love you kindred spirits,
because you understand
these reasons for such emptiness,
this destruction of sacred spirit.

While others talk about it & do nothing,
you bleed your hearts & write about it,
trying to save a smidgeon of humanity
gone sterile.

You are more true
than any government on Earth,
you are a secret society of scribblers,
telling the truth.

I’m an instinctive-intelligent-animal.
I come from a lost warrior-class.
I don’t need to run with the pack.
I make my own way.

I can read a map.
I can use any compass.
I can dead reckon.
I can follow the stars.
I know the constellations.
I can tell time without a watch.
I can read the weather.
I know the four directions.

I can evade.
I can keep myself from
human or canine-detection.
I can build shelters from any material
& if needed, I know how to camouflage them.
I can manufacture traps & snares
& skin & trim the animals I catch.
Fishing & wild game are mine,
whenever I want to eat them.
Bugs are not too bad either,
I’ve eaten several species.

I can manufacture water.
I can swim in water.
I can make a life preserver out of my pants.
I can carry you on my back for distance.
I can make beef jerky and rabbit stew.
I know about berries and slugs.
I know which plants are edible and which aren’t.
I can treat a snake bite.
I know how to set a broken leg & treat shock.
I can sew stitches on human skin & pull human teeth.
I can make a fire from scratch, even in rain.
I know about fire pistons.
I can get lost or I can be found,
distress-signals are my specialty.

I can track other animals or humans.
If you knew my martial skills,
you’d never leave my side.
I can use modern or make primitive weapons.
I know how to use the primitive weapons I make.
I can manufacture body heat.

My mind is stable.
I believe in the sacred.
I know how to endure physical activities for
extended periods of time in adverse conditions.
I know about jungles.
I know about deserts.
I know about forests.
I know about the tundra.

Oh, I am sure you can make it in your own too.

But,
when the lights go out for good,
when the **** really hits the fan,
when the Apocalypse finally comes,
who would you want to be with,
the ravenous pack or with me?

Go ahead,
take some time
to think about it.
Just remember Grasshopper,
I can be the pack’s worst enemy.
They will never see me coming……

Driving my Ferrari,
I wrote this ditty
at over a hundred miles per hour.
Feeling the power of your
hot **** words,
I shifted into turbo overdrive
while slamming letters
on my cell phone,
maneuvering between
the slower traffic.

With an effect like that,
I know you are hotter
than the surface of the sun
& I'm intoxicated
with only half
of a pretty picture.

I sauntered up
to the carved mahogany
& ordered whiskey,
two shots straight up.

Outside the sun
melted tarmac,
saquaros
bore silent witness,
a million
miles from home.

I was mesmerized
by the toothless grin
of the tender,
deep ruts in his face.
his mystical eyes.

And I wondered
about the stories
he could tell,
if he ever wretched
on buttons
or traveled
the Milky Way
flying as a crow.

The blasts tasted delicious
burning my mouth
& enjoying
the cosmic
ethanol-moment,
I forgot about
such fleeting thoughts
at my sudden stop
along the lonely
stretch of highway.

Everyday I crank into battle,
pedal my knobby-spaceship
to somewhere else.
I'm really nobody special,
just another universal-soldier,
a lover of rock and roll,
a fellow sojourner.

Achilles Last Stand
blasts through
my skull candy
in raw-melody.
I jump curbs,
hop ravines,
resurrecting the
meaning of clairvoyance.

I read her calling,
a true woman-child
crying for faith,
she masked her pain
with self-doubt,
swallowed anger,
hexed by *** & drugs
& lots of alcohol,
temporal killing pain-relief,
death-elixirs from liars.

And in my boldness,
my love for her indomitable spirit,
I shout to her,
telepathically send her
an important sincere message,
"Pick yourself up fighter,
cleanse your bloodied knees,
cloak yourself in flower-maille,
love yourself first
for protection
from you adversaries
(and there are many).
Carry the shield of courage
to blind the dark-world
with the next coming,
the coming of your own sun,
shine sister shine!"

I miss the rumble of our tracks,
we were like the thunder,
rolling over the endless dunes,
it's a tune you never forget,
stays hidden
deep inside,
like the oldies.

I remember ancient history,
back in the day,
we'd hit the ****
then sing an Allman song or two.

Sometimes we'd pile into the 'Cuda,
cruise down to see the drag review.
Them guys were beautiful
under the influence.

One of those nights,
Patrick picked up a chick
that was a dude with a ****.
It seemed like it took him a long time
to get over it, but maybe
we were wrong.

I heard he came out of
the closet years ago.
Maybe he was trying
to tell us something,
or maybe we were
just too drunk & naive
to understand such things.

Whatever the case,
those days were fun,
a time for self-discovery
& drag queen shows
viewed under the influence
of tasty ****.

I spent my nights
on the sharpest edges,
imbibed supernatural fixes
to break ice,
make things seem better,
feel all nice.

On Kashmiri-tempo,
I looked for a cowgirl
in the sand with every day
one of intense celebration.
Bad to the bone was
the motto of logical songs.
Dust in the wind
& free birds never lied,
I cried in the cane break,
zig zagged through ghostland,
lived in
the twilight zone,
a young Turk
in love with radar,
alone on
Heaven's stairway.