a cosmic message in a bottle:
and all its ever been is the same as now .
all mythos and religion;
all cult kingdoms; all god-kings

it’s not about what’s out there-
it’s about what’s in here that we’re trying to save.

the ugly things that crawled between our teeth
were cool.
while the slang was new, the sky still irradiated us-but[cloud-hurt and uncautioned]we didn’t mind .
while the slang was:
we built things out of graveyard-ingredients in order to survive past our youths
and
insofar as having not yet been annihilated, we look at eachother with nothing left to say that won’t sound out of fashion and
_                  changed





//:it’s a dead mall universe
and the squatters just set off the sprinkler        
  .system

.
is the thing that you
want back

where your figure of a lotus is a crumpled up papertowel on the coffee
table
.last night’s dinner still evidenced across the smeared
glass
and all of the pencil marks of time
upon the marginalia of my
skin

fitting together like guns to a victim’s head:paving over holes in parched landscapes_and
parsing out factions in a divided populace

they are

finding and
braking

handholds

in the artificial rock wall
of
a
city made out of
pictures of cities.
selling
an exclusive virtue
made out of

want .


my

want
for us
       is otherwise.

you say, as
all of recorded history is
annihilated in favor of
quarterly growth


and in the coldopen, the sun rises over joggers
going nowhere .

calling the beats
calling the sea-roughed wannabe sailor-types

calling the ham radio in your head
calling the used binoculars and the clear sky of a warm night’s impulse

calling down through this
anthropological migration pattern
for
the trading card
charm
of
new kinds of
Fake.

it’s beach day for the //bad.guys
you.          better
catch the shoreline before it’s sold away

feel feel think
feel feel bite