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Lucas Oct 7
boxes of book
and television
and face
as face
to equal grey
touch on
jovial me
and outlined leaf and branch
on the cloud purple;
stereobouncing
a renunciation
of human man
dissolving into rain.  

i am goo
and strapping, rigid tendon
as mud to mud
to mud and midday musk
as sand
on the long river
of beatific love
i am taught
how to howl
and when to look deeply;
i am blessed
because i am here.
Lucas Oct 4
the ****-wall moves
across vent baby veins
and goes bush smacking
for the tower lord

and now
our video of the cross
is on the front page,
hanging like
spoiled fruit
for sustenance

all while
the village volley
has dim light
for the balcony camera
that we will watch
after the going gets wrong
and the righteous
want to sniff dirt
as if it would help them remember
what an animal is.
Lucas Oct 4
grocery store chili
and two smokes
from the drive-thru;
Spence is a good friend,
but he smells like acid
and I'm not as easy
as I was in Wichita.
Lucas Sep 26
in east delano
with all the mirrors;
i am bohemian boy
canoeing trash river,
stapled to the floor
and gunning bigger skies.

serpent belly,
i know the earth
and wednesday to wednesday
there is press
of fern and leopard
and fermentation and sloshing
concussion.

i see brick
and black
right now.
i see pattern
and small print.

could you open your mouth;
as to pour out the rain?
Lucas Sep 25
weak water
and a deep knot;
there is no fire
like the fire of lust.

i am string
struggling
to keep my organs
from tearing out of me.

it is a disease
to live as worry,
to live as if we have a say.
and for that there is beer,
there is work,
there is wood become ash
and gossamer to build upon
and soul to screech,
but there is not a single thing
better
then the warmth of union.

and i am sorry
that i am man.
i am sorry
that i am not more.
i am sorry
that i am man
and i am sorry
that you are woman,
the most of my desire.

i'm trying,
and my wings are deep
in the gutter of sky as blood
and triumph,
and there is glass
in my eye sockets
and when struggle becomes bullet
it pushes further
and i scream.

please lord, will you protect us?

i am sorry that i am man
and i am sorry that you are woman,
but i am not sorry that we try.
Lucas Sep 22
lobster butter
love
and a dream
and an apple
to kiss.

a peach
and a pumpkin;
a heartkindness hand,
warm jelly pupils
and a thin gold chain.

a hollow head
a full heart;
today
I am clay
and tangerine.
Lucas Sep 22
honey-melt
on toast
over veggies.

it's an aromatic morning
when the coffee
meets the open window
and the pan fry pop
makes steam engines
like little birds.

the wood under my feet;
spices hang
and satiate the need
to be elsewhere,
the morning is a warm purple
around me.
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