it’s a god-awful small affair
to the girl with the mousy hair
10,000 hipsters stand in the square
with ***** makeup and ****** flare
prayers fly into the dim lit sky
as a generation asks god  ‘why’
it’s a god-awful small affair
to the girl with the mousy hair
I sit here in despair
for a god of whom I did care
well, just a man with a master’s eye
for making all of the people sigh…
and now I sit here with my head in my hand
just trying to understand
what this world has come unto
can there ever again be skies of blue
and while *swishy in her satin and tat
frock coat and bipperty-bopperty hat
there can never be another like that –
the morning news brought a cold chill
as the icon of us undesirables
came to be laid at rest
it’s on America’s tortured brow
leaving us to sit solemn
as old records spin
telling tales of space men
and life on mars
a little china girl
and one man who feel to earth
it’s on America’s tortured brow
the fashionista of glam rock
the birther of Ziggy
the man who sold the world
forever changing
chameleon
in smart shoes –
spinning grooves
and scattered cd’s
tears slipping away
as memories already start to fade
it’s the freakiest show
look at those cavemen go
will they ever know
just who left us
take a look at the lawman
beating up the wrong guy
it’s a god-awful small affair
to the girls with the mousy hair
now she walks with a sunken dream
and the cream that once rose so high
so too will come the time to die
and as all of us let him go
there can be a bit of hope for those
who carry a torchy flare
to the girl with the mousy hair
and will sing in the dead of night
with face paint and a big spot light
******* and the party boys
come out with their fancy toys
but it’s a god-awful small affair
if you find you’re too square to care
‘bout the goblin kings sad depart
from this earth and from hipster hearts
see these kids have no loyalty
to a man who helped define me
when the world gave me a frown
for kissing boys in a dainty gown
ole Davy gave me peace
with a confidence that never ceased
oh Mr. Jones I’m in debt to you
for turning my grey skies to blue
now I’ll forever carry this torch
from green valleys to my own front porch
but it’s a god-awful small affair
it’s nice to know some of us care…
about the earth and sun and stars
and yes
there is life
on
     Mars –

Thinking back to Thomas creek and sneaking a peak at the freaky little tweaker
in blown out sneakers a toothless mistress second guessing ******
thrift dressed house guest ******* up my speakers blown out woofer
wolfing down dinner mad slurping curry a beginner at twister
her sister, disaster, got caught ******* the Doberman.. unable to find sobriety
got gang ***** at the sorority doing an impression of Brad Dougherty
shoes to tall falling all wobbly knees knocking hostilely like a rasta in Montgomery
racially outcast Big Boi with a skin tare lash with passion unfashionable bastions
with rashes wear red sashes like Communist fascists I‘m a pacifist with a speeding fist
ready to dis any resistor to this transistor radio I eat filet-minion with boxers on
my mind be gone, like, no one’s home and this body roams all alone
with a *****, I’m a stoner, a postponer, ***** donor, out on loan
bought and paid for, caught with a lawnmower, impersonating a horn blower
like I was Gillespie at the Filmore, or Apollo theatre as a greater Walmart style
wearing a wife beater, not a reader, sort of a ******* not like Kim, more like
a mosquit-er drinking blood like it’s from a hummingbird feeder.

~
tension swirled tornado style
within the confine of a judicial chamber
parties argued in the din
and slow steady breathing found one plaintiff

barely able to see walls meet
blue eyes fell into a fixed gaze
voices drifting on waves of blue-green
carried a body without substance across golden fields

darting sparrows altered the sky
creating patches of shadow and cloud
then turning and switching pace
uniform movements seemed military and precise

still, an ethereal accused traveled wide skies
watching rooftops pass and fade into horizon
then the deserts and forests came and went
sea’s followed and disappeared

back in the barren walled room
raised voices told tales of chairs electrically charged
a lifetime of punishment for a moment of indiscretion
these noises found a smile
as heaven had been found and was internal.  /

recollecting collections projecting selections injecting protection infection dejection
dyslexic narcoleptic rejecting dejections ******* complexion complicating interjections
perplexed inspectors intercept pterodactyls relaxing in backpacks extracting disillusion
contortionist philanthropist dejected transgression implementing eradications of moss buying patrons
eclectic perfectionist rests limp-wristed whispering disparaging remarks to the wait staff
trombone percussionist impressed and impoverished gravelling wistfully mimicking Rickles
I sit half disheveled grinding my wisdom teeth feeling the fleeting muse sitting in disbelief –

million dollar moment
plastic happiness ensues
fantastic spectacle
show for the ages
sage burns raging
cage expands, elastic
free bird sings brightly
feathers flip
gaging currents
torrential downpour
damages pages
sad eyes look at the scope of alteration
alienated, they seek dissuasion
turning from this scene
seeing clean green
thoughts race at the sight
imagination in pre-flight warm-up
launches
raunchy visions flash
as past ***** attempt to crash
the brain plane flying over strange plains
grain fields sway, plainly
painfully I pine
deranged

FML, the

GDP….

***!!

crassly clashing
diametric opposites
seething hostility paints tar-stained walls
coated against cold indifference
interfering ideologies cause pause
cryptic clauses calculate circumstance
vs.
significance
symbiotic relationships deteriorate
puddles of love remains…unwashed
free-flowing determination
wrestles mindlessly
paraphrasing haphazardly
seeking direction

Mourning another chemtrial morning
as blood moons wait to rise
increasing size of the Yellowstone bulge
biblical prophecy meets Aztec idolatry
in a Nostradamus tell-all
bending light flashes off secret project crafts
black by nature and budget
but the gays can marry, so everything is fine
equality seekers wearing iodine 131 coated sneakers
sneak into laboratories to release rats
with Ebola
as a way to protest Wall Street injustices

without leadership we experience the occupy movement
at least the ****** hippies got blacks and women the vote
the current generation is too hell-bent on selfies and photo bombs
to do something silly
like read
research
unite
create change….growth….aid in the evolution of man
but no, not when the new Black Ops is coming out
and teens are posting **** pictures on Instagram
violent **** culture pretending freedom matters
and I get madder
both angry and crazy
as the chances slip away
each day the ability to rebuild democracy fades further
every passing moment means one more stupid child
eating chips
and drinking soda
makes the choice
to stay put
and die young

Dribbling crude slips through seams
as the icicles hang and the Robins play
in the snow fields surrounding Lake Oahe.

Distant stacks puke exhaust as
tractors come alive and
frozen tracks break free.

Roaring machinery drowns out moans
and wailing children hold tight to mothers,
tears stream down weathered faces watching
the destruction of their home.

From my home I witness the horrors
on grainy Youtube videos and
private Facebook messages gone viral.

With tied hands I witness a land *****
my eyes turn red and widen
staring
at the latest American catastrophe.

rag tag *** hag grocery bag in drag
maxed credit and bragging about having a stag party
farty party girls in shart coated pantyhose blow wasted kisses
to fisters in trousers bumping mump victims blisters
hitting wristers like the Williams sisters
coyote trickster with a brand new mix tape waits
with his **** taped to his own leg like Ricky Lake
on her fist date
another Cosby **** escape hot-plated shared space
I’m no racist cause my skin is white and pasty
I’m tasty and **** like Britney sans the braces insatiable
and my testicles are reckless needing spectacles
done wrecked the hull Captain Pickard
and a test-tube girl –

It was down on the farm,
24 little girls shinning
in the early summer sun. I stood
over their tiny green bodies
gently showering soft new growth.
A feeling began to swell, of pride,
as I was growing, again, the cure for cancer
in the field of a dear friend.
Holding the hose in one hand,
and the spray wand in the other
so as to not allow dragging
across these ever important bodies,
I look across the field of 87 and consider the varieties
the four of us have chosen
for grow 2015.
The Willamette Valley is warm
and my toes sink into lovingly treated soil,
organically fed, with an eye to long-term
sustainability, as the co-op recognizes
we are part of the land we love.
The slightest tinge of yellow catches my eye
perhaps the little Shishkaberry
needs Epson salts.

bless this restlessness
as it is success
but a mess none the less
I confess
when wearing a dress
there is no guess
just bad press and distress
impressed?
the need for rest seems
incessant and persistent
yet I remain resistant
by playing an instrument,
one reminiscent of distant
enlisted men
transitioning
to some sort of agricultural
based life of subsistence
subservient serfdom
on poor farms in Tennessee
with plenty of hens running free
and a still out back brewing grain whiskey
frisky miss’s with pesky kittens
rub dainty mittens
smitten with ripping the
cotton-topped children’s
collars and slipping dollars to poor
babies fathers
while bothering loggers
robbing old codgers –

trunks filled with junk and the crunk juice flows
flunked out pill popping junkies with no cash go
drunkenly to the shrunken head show
knowing they stunk.
The monks dunked funky mumps victims
on bunk beds and licked them
instead of fixing lunk-headed situations
with linkin-log technologic advances
drinking dogs retrofitted with dance moves
groove on the wooden floor while ****** bore
the Moors with tales of divorce and random *******
on all fours in doorways
during bad plays on the interstate…
demonstrators, unregulated, on roller skates
wait at the gates of the ingrates filled with hate
and throw pie plates with fated accuracy
and the belated bureaucratic picnic
nitwits in knickers knuckle bump
and plump debutants snicker
the wicker croquet mallets
perform ballet in the chalet
and I have to valet the cars –

Rumors fly about the stock market crash
America will fall on the hardest of times
All the citizenry needs to make real preparation

Is anyone out there doing anything for preparation
Or are we all holding our breath awaiting this crash
On the cusp of revisiting the Great Depression times

The American people are running out of time
For the ability to make any preparation
As this will be the final and greatest crash

Stock market out of time, make preparation for the crash

flashes of the past crash into my mass
blasted and scratched, hide chapped,
I clap and shout at the memory
I approve of myself –
Old images of self-worth re-birth
And my fading girth is better for the earth
Large ***** pass gasses collapsing the greenhouse, but
I approve of myself –
Internal health and immeasurable wealth
As if the Delphi oracle imparted me
with love for self
growing stealth
with approval of myself –
affirmation nation retaliating against
infatuation with concentration camp
regurgitation
my patience wears thin and yet still
I approve of myself –
Granting panic stricken epidemic victims
Injections of insulin and bicarbonate soda
So the right wing harm bringers
Will no longer harbinger orangutans
Oh! the will of man…
Planning to land a dodge ram on the spam factory
Rectally cramming grandfather clock hands
Scamming bands of Ayn Rand fans
I approve of myself –
Derailed writings without direction
Making up things like “latterly”
…..better to just end it----
I approve of myself
And much of this message

Sweet sweet powder
Sweet sweet powder
Cutting keys wit flour
****** man of the hour
It’s the sweet sweet powder
Sweet sweet powder
Lookin down from the tower
Homeboy, I got all the power

It’s the sweet sweet powder
Like I’m raven from the bowery
I be hittin fools wit trash cans
Wake em up in bout an hour
With that sweet sweet powder
Shootin three ***** like crowder
Hollarin hella louder
Like Aretha in the shower
Got that sweet sweet powder
That I’m given to the *******
Never ****** with those snitches
That are wearing goodwill britches
No I roll with the
Sweet sweet powder
Been running through the ditches
Eating salty ham sandwiches
You act like I don’t know riches
I know that

Sweet sweet powder
Be cutting keys wit flour
I’m da man of the hour
Jumpin in the shower
With the sweet sweet powder
On the ivory tower
Pimpin tricks by the hour
Holding all the ****** power
Got that sweet sweet powder

Now wit that sweet sweet powder
I get ******* like a Scotty
****** Baio was hottie
But with that sweet sweet powder
He coulda ****** gotten Molly
Little Ringwald in her prime time
Slap that *** like a hate crime
Sweet sweet powder blowin my mind

I got that sweet sweet powder
Fuckim man of the hour
Rollin with robin trower
Acting like a lil bow-er
With my sweet sweet powder
Turning trick by the hour
Showering with power
Giving ******* flowers
Got that sweet sweet powder

flossing jocks swing mighty
***** crow blowing triumphant
incumbents sent to extend the morality
vitality reality equals fallacies and tribulation  
recreation station seething with malcontents grossly exaggerate
the aggregate to depreciate the innate greatness of iced milk and cherries
varying fairies trailing mankind grind to different beats
seated meat sacks lack tact and force ill-mannered children  
to render hate venders with crayons
yawning chasms plastered with plasma and grass clippings
flipping chihuahuas slipping in to the dark
bouncing ta-ta’s, beer-soaked and tightly clad
refocus the mass passing by
flying low with bellies plastic filled
pelicans land softly on quiet mountain lakes to breed in peace

time dies
I sit awash in solitude
as moments fade to black
oblivion
could a thousand stars burning out
while 100 toddlers struggle to take final breaths
create a void like thisssssssssss


no.

------------ grasping at gasping groupers
------------ I goad distant relatives into diving without recycled air

bloated eyeballs remind me
of a different type of togetherness
isolation and indignation
unfettered and non-remorseful
inconsequential fallacies
facilitate fallout
and I leave this plane
regret laden

no...

she walks into walls as her strong points hide in public
incorporeal, I sit on a doughty shoulder awaiting reincarnation
doubting faith while languishing in purgatory
I realize the Catholics had it right
sexually abusing young boys
is the only ticket to heaven

waves of heat rise
distorting the land beyond
no movement, but buzzing flies
hard, dry straw was once a lawn –
cotton blend, stained and soaked
sticks to a sweaty back
nothing satisfies, leastly a Coke
old man neighbor suffered a heart attack –
oppressor sun, beating down
scorching all of my green land
pooling excretion, enough in which to drown
puddles in the palm of my hand –
small children hide indoors
not willing to risk Summer fun
unable to find street-walking ******
as we all cook in the unrelenting sun –
forecast gives no peace or quarter
instead condemns us to another night of no sleep
saw someone fry an egg on construction mortar
and make cookies on the dashboard of a Jeep –
it is simply not the norm
to crest 100 degrees in the Oregon, June
why, even the sprinkler  failed to preform
cooler weather cannot come to soon –

I sat across looking at my wife
Thinking, “Has there ever been another woman like Tina Lyn”
I was considering our shared love
The commitment we made to trust
Our choice to maintain an open dialog regarding faith
And always go to bed with hearts full of happiness

It’s not always easy to hold onto happiness
But it is easier when you have a relationship built on trust
Like the one I have with my wife
It only takes a little faith
And someone like my Tina Lyn
To have a life full of peace of mind and love

I wish everyone knew there was this kind of love
If only everyone could find their Tina Lyn
Then they too could experience this happiness
And begin to have some faith
Build a life with their lover or wife
With a strong foundation of honesty and trust

I never knew I could have such trust
In my youth I had no faith
Only fleeting moments of happiness
That all changed when I found my wife
And allowed myself to open up to her love
It was then I knew I would spend eternity with Tina Lyn

I still remember the first night I spent with Tina Lyn
And our conversations about the meaning of trust
And how important that was to real happiness
Is it any wonder I made her my wife
I had never known such complete and unconditional love
So I took a chance on faith

It’s a funny thing about faith
When one considers it without god, only trust
I had to learn these things from Tina Lyn
Even though I knew I ‘wanted’ a life full of love
‘Wanting’ is not the road to true happiness
and would have never brought me my perfect wife

I think about my happiness as a man in love
The trust I have in my relationship with Tina Lyn…
Only person to ever bring faith into my heart is my wife

frozen ***’s *****
their frozen assets
assimilating accountants
asphyxiated by Asperger’s
arranging orangutans
assuaging appetites
all the while
alone

single dark hair pokes through
natural fiber button-up
clinging to a bulging belly
free from beer to blame
38 year old frame
six feet five inches
hides 300 pounds
along with two or three x’s
depending on the brand
and bran
and counting
longing for that ole ****** sheik
that only came with ******
and emaciation
information avalanche out of control
living with bread addiction
sounds silly after melting crack with vinegar
pop can spoon fed
looking at fields of wheat with contempt
longing for enriched flour
status vs station
am I built to die young?
like my fathers before me
extra fat on the organs
can only lead to uncomfortable death

emaciated faces placed hastily in waste filled space
graceless shapes, mass of flesh
lidless eyes scanning endlessly
searching for rest
impoverished waifs piled
on the mentally ill homeless
skin pressed together
inappropriately –
lost child wildly blinded, bound
gagged on diesel rags used to clean tools
torture implements rented on ebay
scented candles transmogrify blank surroundings
and color splashed lashes shine red in the afternoon
glistening –
fake baking ******* easily ballooned
ozone less atmosphere cooks plastic skin
releasing Botox and wheat germ
creating orange clouds engulfing tanning booths
light skinned pretenders swish across foray’s
looking both fabulous and abhorrent
frolicking –
camera angled babies
in thick foundation hide tears
so as to not disappoint
or fail in the eyes of the media sharks
fear and gun-rights send them into a frenzy
seeking to raise and destroy
everyone –
political ridicule in a public tribunal
grandfathered unborn wait to rule
wombs of power hold genes of control
eggs designed to tax  
meeting ***** engineered to manipulate
deform –

it caught the corner
             of my eye

Pavlovian neck twist
jarring synapsis
                  tears followed

was it a ghost
or flickering dust particulate
                   sent me
                             crashing into your picture

sitting crisscross
considering memory’s place
longing to touch your finger
              

                               soft sunlight played
                               dog dander and field burn
                               swirled in the long evening

the radio crackled
long forgotten songs
        played on vinyl

once again they fell
    
                  Is today your birthday?
                  Anniversary?

numbers blur
last year’s calendar
still hangs
         rectangle wall stain

emotions wipe away
mental images persist
a face through the years

               suddenly I stand alone /

~
Bending low over cultivated flowers
feeling petals soft and delicate betwixt rough
and calloused fingertips. With the gentlest tug
a single veined pollen respite
floats at first then lays weightless
within my palm. I hold the entire universe as well.
Each atom in balance expressing color
and fragrance. All without any
measurable substance. A slight but steady
breeze takes my prize. I stand defeated;
no longer able to garner a mate…
or experience joy. I pull another
and am reborn in nature.  /

She exhaled spring,




                              a newness filled my senses…..





                  reborn in her eyes.

Whispering pine bows
caught in the slightest breeze
shift gently, from right to left
with a mild up and down action
dry needles float effortlessly
to settle on the forest floor
giving new depth
to the thick carpet.
Three red ants march
single file
scouting for food and fodder
strong enough to repair the mound.
With a flick of the antennae
the lead insect turns
towards a new scent;
each ant uses its mandibles to gather
whispering pine needles
gently carpeting
the forest floor.

looking across time
from my etheric perch
or was it a pike
as I sat on my flounder…
as I was perched on a flounder…
perched on a pike I floundered
pike perch flounder
flounder perch pike
pike flounder perch
mike’s rounder peach
like sounder greetings
tricycle ground feet
triglycerides around meat
polymorphic lounge ****
people forget
poetry is expression
silliness for its own sake
nonsensical whimsy
for laze-abouts and lollygaggers
with unicorns and dragons
nothing is more magical than language –

50’s beach party
complete with twitchy go-go dancers
leather jackets
and old Plymouths
sand kicked in the faces of squares
as little Suzie Goodtime roller skates across the parking lot
picket fences shift from white to orange and pink
as they capture the sunset on a perfect American day –
free lovers swing signs
written in crayon
attempting to challenge the establishment
create world peace
through **** abuse and music in the park
subjugated and relegated to building a retirement platform
aged hipsters look at faded photographs
imagining a time they changed the all –
blown out coke head
bent on disco ***** and easy living
watches as Miami explodes
CIA operatives feeding high grade dope
to low rent projects
in an effort to funnel money and guns
into the Middle East –
gas wars and brokers as billionaires
death to glam rock and hairspray
the rise of bling and swag
selfies take center stage
unabashed introversion
as the skies are geometric grids
and the crops **** pollinators –
looking over a lifetime
of altering perception
and changing habits
the habitual nature of humanity
shines as a solid base from which all else stems
forced to recognize my own place in the septic tank
I stand as an observer and documenter
cleverly bending the woes
of the world
into words
for the lost –

I closed my eyes
and felt the ground vibrate
as the Huskavarna roared to life
and chewed through log after log
devouring fibers
and depositing sawdust
the smell filled my nose
and a smile passed my lips
fresh fir in the morning
the crash of timber in the distance
the hush that fell upon the forest during lunch –
muted thumping trancelike and rhythmic
each round hit with a maul
and then bashed with the sledge
tossing split rounds
into stacks on the truck bed
perfect dance performed by the woodcutter –
the rumbling tires against the gravel road
sent me to slumber
the crunching mixed with the gentle rocking
fighting until the very last
trying desperately to hear
the low murmur
of my father and uncle Steve
telling tall tales
of 600 yard coyote kills
with just one blast
from the old 2-23 Remington
and the 40 lb. salmon
still swimming with a 20 dollar jig –

For perfect fudge use marshmallow
Fluffy white and soft as the snow
Boil butter til almost clear
A sweeter treat you’d never know

So much sugar gets poured in here
dash of vanilla at the rear
don’t need an oven, it’s no bake
grab me the parchment paper, dear

any treat or peppermint flake
can be added, it will not break
if you buy, it is not so cheap
better homemade, like baking cake

it’s worth the effort, take the leap
a double batch will make a heap
you’ll be a hero with your peeps
……you’ll be a hero with your peeps