The naked black branch silhouette
Outside the glass is perfect
Against a church rooftop
Which is made white by
The brain gasping
For music in a million
Armed and eyed solitude.

It is fork synapse white like a billion
tongued Amazon drawing new
confusions over dawn's shock

On an anxious plain.  Water beads get fat and round.
Threatening a race to the equator.

Bulbs scream under the crust
Babies with weightless footsteps

circle suspicious seams and the dream
of valves and mysterious passages

If there were a moon
It would plummet as ten trillion blue comets

Were there oceans they would rise an automatic
body of salt bones and steam

We are Ether and Human as the same one time
filled with light and immortal

This september sky
does not have kind eyes
They stare at women's tongues
and never blink

September's thin blue arms
smeared with white angel's guts
reach into mens lungs with
mouthfuls of oxygen lust

If they beheld her whole form
they would turn mute and celibate
forever.

I'm not the one
my words are scalded chants
which are not Art unless you
perish this minute

I sing bass in the street like
Walt except I **** women
If you read Latin my children
are graffiti

She said Let's go tonight and
drink drink drink
Fine I said
Now the world is our blood

I keep you next to me since
I'm a dead man for rock and roll
And you will stay alive
Like a song in the streets

I will take a train to Babylon but never declare my own trespassing bombs
Red dirt in the mind is hardened and seduced for one minute and then lost

Pedestrians are mowed down as I hoard weapons for ecstasy
I bathe in hard water a blued frontier explorer while the sun is nothing

I have to smother your discoveries while you come onto filth icicles
The letters of the killed mark my path announcing biblical winter

When I am thrown from a cliff
how will I address the spirits ?

With my limbs crashing in our wooden room ?
the primitive sectors of my mind in flames ?

When my tongue pushes sacred air I
invoke silent destruction

Every impure atom flounders
My blood will remain

Puking with ****** revelation
Giving lethal sanction to pure hearts

Creation is the mad bird that never sleeps
with its head beneath the blade

Our murderers will turn like surprised doves
but our oldest comrades will declare war

To cold peace points an inner carbon
An elegiac turn
A firesharp hollow
A plunging baritone ribbon

The horse is wood it does not
eat it burns on a flake of Singapore
On plaster fingers
Abracadabra's
Black Dracula