counting the world on your fingers
counting.

Coyote associations
Rib-caged home
Of
Animation

the harm storm of california
and the titanium world is
beautiful

smiling back at you
with those tinted, 2-car garage eyes

and a view of
eternity, so long as you don’t
check
back later.


for those not yet gone numb
where the market demands it,
life is
__

The truth.
Fight injustice.

Stand up for what you truly believe in - no matter how big, or how small

Let’s try it again, but mean it this time.




                  don’t let the bad guys win…

as the nostrils clear
           air and earth
as mouths loop around anthems without countries.
as we bloom inside.(not out)
(not ours) (not sweeping us up in it.)

we catch eachother in definitions only.
it's like trying to be grown .
tropical plants sit in clay pots by the window

+your rugburn smile breaks\      / open and spills out over
everyone.

+your fingernail teeth.wash me away

i felt it also.fainting also. fearing all the things that rat us out to the
u n i n d o c t r i n a t e d

that eat us out with one ear against the wall

that normie   ****.

that sunburn skin.that
tankline brea
k

i take

these pictures in my head instead of
you

A human’s religion
Is its most beautiful
Story

Itself,
The author.


It tells of
Us.

What
We are.



A
Seeker of
Truth .

Fooler of
All.



What are we doing?

fact-based decision making /
the inherent , long-term kindness of truth .
the patience to seek it , regardless of popular opinion or ad campaign /
the inherent cruelty of averages and crowds /
the willingness to build wings /
the bravery to use them /

the hubris to use them unglamorously .

the tower , the fall , and the sea .
the illusory virtue of the inventor’s son :
the illusory personal value-add in possessing unearned, inherited things .
virtually, anything you want .
anything you want, virtual .

the perceived magical nature of wisdom /
the failure to pattern /
real math using false measurements /
real harm using falsehoods against the world .
the failure to achieve mastery on the first day /
the persistence to achieve mastery .

you can do good things_

i know that smell
he said
those tweety-bird treats from the ice-cream truck-
with those weird gumball eyes
i haven't thought about those since my little league days.
i always ******.

i was young for my grade and very thin and gangly-
except for that one year, when everyoneelse moved on and

me and that one other kid who was also young for our grade
stayed in the league.
we killed it that year
i'm not proud. but it was our chance to shine

it's amazing how these things can come back to you.

i said yeah

a bit later on my way to the train station, there was a homeless
woman
with oxygen tubes and a wheelchair
she was limp, directly in front of the door to the stairs, eyes
closed
baking in the (late day) sun

i didn't check if she was alive.
i thought about it though

The best laid plans of motorcycles and minivans
Fall to pieces in between the  long yellow lines

We zip like skeletons down the well
At sunrise
Returning to old versions of ourselves
And playing catch with bad intentions



By dry riverbed I bury future aliases
As offerings
Rivers will stay dry in my time
But someday
Rains will come down from mountains
And wipe the town away

Creature feature
In a Double sleeper
We wag our tails at weeping branches
Dragging feathered knuckles against the softened earth


Inside this house.
Beside me,
Head-like
And thoughtless ,

We
Dine.

tread down pathways on your
tongue
like runoff from the
hillside // the drips are
dancers of casualty towards a promise of restfulness at the
Bottom

no more potential to fall from .
no more
mountains //

we,
gullet-bound into the.flooded
gully


the vision of peaks to either
  side
bound to other
rules,and to

eachother;

mountain-breath_calling

is a scale-less basin for memory
sebum goblet . bedside cup.
eyes are a
worldnet for sweeping.the
lost-aloft
and wing fold/ed
:things

Catch.
Catch.
Store.

like bugs on the windshield //
like the pesticide-genocide that hides that
History
from clouding
our road-bright
viiew  ever again.

pretty
skin on the screen

pretty much ***** the real
away.

Dishrag.heart
Heads back,
Homeless.

was right .

in the power of human beings to change the world
and the enormous weight of responsibility that comes along with that.

eating over the chipped plates reserved for
only /truly// honored guests
we don’t care what we think about eachother
because it’s
             like
f e a s t i n g.

Of
Man .
The inherited
T h in g .

stone-sighted
medicine.breath
the snow-fallen
                   heart

   aimed home
             -
and in all the parking lots,
and lonely gasstation-checkoutcounters
the howling things that dare to:
howl out

Where are our heroes?
There haven’t been any real heroes for hundreds of years,

Follow the truth. Seek justice.fight
For   good .

We teach this.
But who will follow?

Who will follow when we are being crushed under the weight of their fake god?


You ******* deranged lunatics.

The ultimate thing?


You use what ever you have
You do what ever you can
You artifice Art

No more -no less
Nothing better has ever been attempted.
Attempt it.
Every single second. The world needs it
Hard.

still _courses
//through we,the wet.
[though dry curses be cast upon us now]

Back of the fridge .

Clay handed Ghost
Dabbling in self-
Preservation

Not just anything.

Not,”just”

we’re all nan goldin now
and all the little microbial worlds will
devour us
from inside out


even just as they as are now

say                                                  ch

a                                                        e
n    ­                                                    e
g          ­                                              s
e.               ­                                        e.

The world around you is not everything all at one moment and in the same place.

It is separated out into compartmentalized steps :

Understand what step you are on
Chose you next one you will take,

Look up at where you are going -
But don’t forget to watch your feet at each
next
     Step.

The things that are here, are here now
And you are here now

All the thing that have been, or may come to pass,

They cast shadows from themselves that we can watch dancing at the back of the cave.

But we are Now.
And Now needs to be dealt with now.

[balance the world with your heart]

.you are a slow burn at the bottom of an ancient crater_
a hole in the chain link fence.

i am the broken clasp of your necklace,
your
knees buckling at the sight of
the job.

Yet, I ever wander hillsides
Making my way, often, upwards

like.a call from inside the house
their          prickling
    sediment
  deposit
upon
              her.chordate lineage.its
                  taxonomy.it’s
                    telling time. an
   

e x h u m a t i o n     of
    pores:
       pathways


                     she,      the
=part.hungry
    receptacle

         as
.they rake all delicacies
                            // pressed        
        backwards \

as willing substrate

in howls
in smoke signals           and
in trembling lungs.

emissary
     solutions
dissolve like tea
into too much
      water .
tastes        folded down
    into the back
corners of your tongue ,
scraping
molars   in mild annoyance

;magazine page torn out
and stuffed into
your shirt

for warmth
at the end of the world//

you flash a  smile_ or
is it a threat ?
and reach your hands
    down into
           your
          pants

Rough-scuffed finger-tips
Touch the worn metal
Disk
Of the walk signal.
As the mad man blows polyphonic descending runs into a double saxophone
And screams raspy do-*** into the
Musky spring time

Oh yeah

Oh yeah.

We are

Smuckle berry
Finished
Here and

There was
A
Way
To
Behave

Belly-walker’s daughter

Blessed alter to dna.
Origin.   worship.

Beaded rosary ******* kiss the lips of
Holy men.   and their
Descendents
.
Hell is inside you (only)

The real thing
is       outside

your friend's tongue presses forcefully against my ****. as if
it is a
muscle  
desperately trying to prove factoids
we
learned about it in middle school.

//strongest lb. for lb. in the human body.

you take yours lips and drag them across her.
parting her open with little fingers-
wishing they were able to reach into more
places
at
once.

ringing in all new winters through brass hoops
on the old ride
wooden horse yelping towards its three
brothers .
a hidden sister
in the woods
in the woods
/

without, in the villages of the kingdom :
a
failed technocratic empire _
illusory knights and squires
go diving for **** fuzz
in a heartbeat
between your legs.
they beg.
but
torture is a twoletter word
i f
w e
b e
,and other sundries

a l l
t
he while ,
i hold harnesses out of your hipbones
like graveyards hold our families


and  

false fibers, like torn banners bind
us
through indecisions.and the glowering repose of all intimations

whereas
it’s always nasty
weather
     in the time of
Man.

humbaba-house
torn down
for ill-gotten cedar

and other spoils of
war

threshold thrum thrasher
belly waster
a
water gun kind of hurt

Boils over
As god’s soggy **** reeks out from
The unbuckled Bible Belt of
America.

Take lashes to your
Crooked
Spine, for
Our thoughts and prayers
Go out, this night,
To the unburdened
Minds

Adorned
In crimson. (Read : red baseball hats)
Crowned
In thorns.

As each day passes,
It churns.

Weep for your daughters
Bow for your sons


////

And now we find that
Spoiled milk drips
From
Plastic ****.

//

A dying exhalation spooks out from the cracked and bloodied lips of the
Earth .
And      the

Saints
***
Marching in-

Devouring each other,
With gleeful religiosity in the dim light of our final
Awakening ,
While the very concept of humanity itself
Is being torn apart and
Reborn


Our final prayer :
May g0d’s children
Be
Hit by an f-350 full of unsecured
Kitchen knives.

Gun-breath kid .
Petal heart to the wild expanse
Resting stone shoulders upon the axis of the earth

We dig deeper here ,
In search of the birthplace of cold rivers

Finding only veins of gold
And nothing flowing in those of the living

Miner for their last   exhalations

I have only the touch of my hands
Left -
And the muscle memory of
Something  
That almost became
What it was
Supposed
To be.

Have long since grown

And their powerful roots
Tear my foundation to a rubble of
my towered look out

I push sky and space away

Rumble  me into landscapes disconnected from my feet
And my head is the only thing with me that had got anything left to do with it now .
Bouncing back and forth on a too-thin neck
Not holding upright
Crumpling in like  . foil
     Like green moss drying in the
     Sun
I learn to be real
Appreciate
     Like how every knocked over telephone pole
     Happened.


If



It will happen still

///////
breath is stopped
and teeth, like glaciers carving scar-like channels  in the earth .
  
With soil.
ringing in the ears,



Swimming in rivers without bottoms.
Cooling me down in a fever, in time

I “I’m”
And I am saying too much

In answering, I hold us up from getting at the meat of it.

Seat of it. Sitting there,stinging me.
Too afraid to get so   clear

Is that when followed to its logical conclusion,

The shadows on the cave
Become corporate trademarks

And all of human thought and emotion
Becomes the very
Commodity, itself

To be bought, sold, and
Broken when failing to meet certain quality control
Standards

[in hushes, they name him]
                  
and we are huddled together
in closeness_
the life pit flickers
in warmth and
running ember
upon
the stone sky.
the young are ****** out of their bodies and into the air around
each
dancing breath.
the old nod, as
the strong wear too-thin masks
of
feigned indifference, leaning in from the outer
ring.
the story man comes.
and the future is
    woven
in this collective.

To have lots of wants
But have your needs met

I am not a patriotic person, but what these zealots are doing makes be beyond sick.

If you have the slightest inclination about what has ever been, or will ever be, good about America
You will not watch at they tear it apart.


The forces which created us were once
Science, Art, and the Human Condition.

In Boston, we have done it before. It can be done again, if needed.
I do not seek to need to,
But I ask your courage, should the time come.

Do not let them set hundreds of years of progress back to appease their wallets and their hateful notions of god.



One, if by land.
Two, if by sea.

Basking in the dead neutrino glow
Like forgotten serpents in the pit of
Dawn’s feeble attempt at breaking

A
Perpetual crepuscular
Homogeneity
Tucked in too tight at the bed-corners

Asphyxiating the
Sleeping
Beauty of

Mankind ,

A quiet
Thrill,

A peace
Broken by
Kinetic frenzy
Slowing
Down .

And you,
The
(uncertain) Cloud /
Grinding to a
Haunted
h a u l t .
h a l t .

that reflects the light flashing off pale
fingers_
like glimpses of wet noses
in the looming underbrush

wet, hungry noses .

wind-rustled world.

sights and sounds
no longer .

the harder it is to prove that it happened
let alone, who did it.