the Saskatchewan plains (planes,
plain) stretch eastward beyond you;
sumptuous emptiness pocked with
the 14 hour streetlight of the sun- -
you are out of your mind and in
everything else. you are free now.
remember that you do not find
yourself. you create yourself(z)
you create yourself(z) - -

sad and destroyed
like a mechanical slug..
every dither and second
thought rushing through
my brain, seared with a
touch of envy.. seared
with a touch of evil,
selfish, genome
structured sunglasses
magnificently glared in
the sun.. not enough to
see here, move on. not
enough to see here, move.
not enough to see here
comes the river splat
dotted row along the
vertical length of my
varicose *face

given the ephemeral nature
of each and every momentous,
classics dribble inward and a soul
-search begins. you are my original
source. you are where I come from.
and like the sense of nothingness
behind my eyes, I watch and live via
chance afforded by you.  you'lltide
music contains a reminder of the holiest
birth.. and it's not the birth of a fellow
named Christ, but the birth of a Christ
-like and likeliness within each of us.
Every birth is the birth of Christ, and
you have afforded me a chance in the
Kingdom of Heaven.. misty-eyed 'get
groceries' and the fuzzy friend I once
called Furry before I knew fury
before I knew hurrying as an adultish
sorta blob that smears the sidewalks on
a never-ending rant to work now I'm
gonna change the world and it's you
I have to thank.

*(I love you, mom)

eternally up-to-bat for peace, the
world is art, you are art, and art
is therapy.. so by its very nature,
reality is therapy for the eternally
lost-and-found (in the single instant
foreverandalways). past an angry veil
is hurt.. past a hurt veil is sadness.. past
a sad veil is ego.. and past the ego veil is
an ecstasy that routes into the happiest
insanity one could imagine doing loops
and trying to catch its own tail.. nothing
to be ashamed of when yer having fun
and it ain't some serious issue that the
tail ain't been captured.

taking a sip of another belief gives
one too many thoughts to meditate
on. we are all as found as the rooted
tree.

slumbering cream-cheese on the tip of
an unhungried tongue... in past lives,
we met and you called me crazy. for
once, we are on the same level and
neither of us are not untethered in
the nether of whenever. kindred
souls know how to laughalot,
whereas unkindred soulzzz
bite each other with
elongated continuities
of 'Zed.'

we are perhaps both of these
at different times, but there
is never a lack of love tho
a lack of passion might
have done us well as
well as done us
harm all
depending on how
bent-outta-shape we'd
cared to be. there is
nothing inside of me
that says winter more
than holding yer hand
down the length of the
pole-line while you wore
flats and freezed and
I was too afraid to talk
very loud becuz a small-
town meant solitude and
I couldn't stand solitude
as I wasn't a solid, but a
gas and a liquid too afraid
to become the temporary
icy toothache of a transient
season.

I will love you forever,
but don't tell yerself that.

there's a dead guy in the body,
but he's only fast asleep.

dreams with a 'z' and a bigger bite of the apple
achieves nuffin.. it's a sleepy clap-yer-hands at
the end of any benign midnight show time- -
dreamt I was a homosexual and the girl I'm with
wuz a cover for sumthin till I figured it out. told
her, and she was real hurt, nodded 'oh, alright'
and probably cried but I wuzn't sure cuz she waited
till I was gone.. felt terrible, woke up, vocalised the
dream and told her I was probably a ratio bi but there
wuz nuffin to worry about cuz I'm most definitely
emotionally straight (her cute, adorable mischief-smile
tilted with her head as she moved right to hold me)

twist around and call me deadly.
call me deadly, so I know enough
to cramp a headache away and steal
an evil from beyond a lifting pick-up
of a cell-phone denied service as it acted
strangely at the last house party it attended.

bereft of all wings, you did not glide... you
plummeted to the earth like a
question mark.

with a little bit of dust
under yer skin, you
sense something ancient
and dead-yet-still-living in
everything. The love tapestry
on the walls of your mind beg
to differ, complete- who was
that sunuvabitch and what
why did he stop the music?

is he waiting for a drivel?
or a smile?

severed ******* joke be
fore it was even stated
in the basketball court
prior to the game.. he
stuttered and it came
out 'c-cl-c-c-****-o-ress
ss neverm-m-mind.'

lizards keep shiney wallets clasped
between their scales, so they're rich
and we're not.. the reeealll 1 percent,
hahahe, aren't we each and always
underneath a lizard and a god? do
we not need others attention like a
lizard needs to sun, because otherwise
our blood runs cold and we smash like
empty beer-bottles in a bar fight WHO
THE **** ARE U cash cash cash in
the mannequins wallet, YER A GOD
-**** MANNEQUIN no I'm a *******
lizard YER A ******* PR CAMPAIGN
no I'm a ******* lizard YER A *******
SALES TECHNIQUE

*NO I'M A ******* LIZZZZARD

lecture hall 2.0 complete me upsidedown
and i will fall like ***** toilet-paper thrown
and missed the bowl. in the esoteric words of
Kant, 'I had therefore to remove knowledge,
in order to make room for belief.' he under
-stood there is nothing objective and to pretend
there is, one must live in the shadow of God and
call it "science." buncha ******* reductionists
pretending they're nuffin but chemical reactions.
buncha religious freaks pretending they ain't religious.
science, science, science..

we promised each
other a

broken

lawn

mower

so we mowed
the dirt

instead

Waterborn water horse upon shutter drawn blades,
in the form of these blinds in your face
as you peek beyond peaks in your ability to see..
pixels in the mountaintop, drippity drop drop on the cottages embalmed moss roof,
and a beautiful day, and a beautiful day, and a beautiful thought that told me to say
I felt it in the air when you said that you cared through your fair molten hair on that blonde summers day on top of the rock of Eli, in relay for the slight elegance
upon and underneath irrelevance, and shelf Imams in books on Islam..

Shabat Shalom on Hanukkah.. celebrate the stars insofar as Andromeda,  
my mommas thumb on her 13th year, her 16th beer, the work-man's clear intentions with the way he mentioned words in tension, clenching marbles in his startled glance,
***** minds rubbed upon his work-man pants as this city grows bigger prose in the rows and roads of goals never reached upon the age of 70,
plenty see this creed as Cree in nature,
ship-shaper upon white paper, written in natures hip-hop hater,
forests are erased here.. drugs are never laced here.. I feel like I'm 8 here.. but I'm 8 with a career in thinking intangible all-honesty's on unity..

I see God as the groove master.
I'm just a disco disaster, looking to plaster a little bit of dissidence upon the fence in recompense for the densest chessboard invasion of Kicking Horse pass,
but alas, I broke my arm, wearing a cast you can hope to sign if you wish to charm the devilish sin of sugar-gin, open in to relig-IN.. as in I no longer ****, I Pope..
I wanna take a Pope of every single religiounana,
and see what they saw, and believe what they want, and concieve of their god and impede on their laws..

crows caw, upon a cross and there's a JEEzz-- static discharge.. he interrupts me..
he says to look.. and when I look he tells me to see see see see see, please see, I see what you see, it's not Jeez-me like the Bible Belt.. it's Jeez-US,
we must realize what I meant to grasp as the cusp you have teetered on since before the common age.. each and every all of us is a sage in the same way..
we're all God, and.. we're all God, and.. we're all God, and.. we're all God, and
shake the hand of the rainbows faint glow.. merry old isotope, Santa Claus hippy hope, never tethered hemp rope, old Egyptian space probe, great globe goddess..
**** decimated Odessa, I guess us was lest we forget this or get us to pinch out the **** of a historical era of error.. concentrated terror of terrorists in concentration camps..
an oil lamp burning upon sand saddled socks and snow-covered rocks and an old Buddhist templed temperament held in this mountain of tea and honey..
wearing my runny nosed halted-horrific, all-it-every-and-us is this terrific..
my distance from hand to hand is still as prolific, get the gesture? or am I just a cosmic jester?

lesser is best, so lest we forget the rest all congested in bread and butter covered brain matter,
rain shatters flames and her face was the place I escaped for a hit of false tragedy.

IT WAS SOME SORT OF DREAM and for a second time in my life I worked at a McDonald's but this time it was a McDonald's out of a Philip K. **** novel.. a hoveryvibe with this strange baby-blue tint to the walls that sat so quaint and silent reminding the subconscious of aliens or restaurants at the end of the universe... there was a long cyborg tube that spiraled into crafted spritz almost made to look broken and being one of the strangest parts of the dream. working at a McDonald's again made me physically ill and I could taste ***** in my mouth but for some reason it felt like only moments before I had been quietly lying next to a male lover (co-worker with a Colgate smile that tipped his lips to haunt me) and as I leaned in to kiss him, stomach swelling with the lovers melancholic ecstasy, he began to fade, his lips presings softly to mine collision shape-to-one-another as he vomited a little with no loss to his Colgate beauty (I thought him dying or skipping a day of high-school?) fading away slooowwwllyyy to be replaced by that cyborg tube with me standing above it spitting that same kind of spit which forecasts a violent throw-up from the bottom of a wretch gut. I could see the little spritz made to look broken becoming spider-webbed with my saliva until finally the ***** propelled itself from my throat and I collapsed to the ground somehow still looking in only to awake to my alarm clock - - - wheel around in bed to hear music.

she was reading haruki murakami
and licking her lips of muffin crum
bs - - i, placated via cellphone, calle
d to leave a message for a friend ab
out Oscar Wilde's De Profundis  a
s i think i forgot it on his couch spea
k-easy speak-fast distract myself wit
h cigarette headrush rants and slow-
mo's she moves close gazing as i c
uriously whisper back with connect
ed pupil and she comes so so close - - g
arbage can next to me close - - she keep
s peeking at me, pulls out norwegian w
ood scans road i awkwardly pull out an
thology of chinese poems from backpa
ck to possibly impress! she keeps peek
ing peeking peeking i almost start conve
rsation but heart-beats race-track grand
prix miss my bus and i know it almost re
trieve cigarette from pocket (ghoulish goo
dy) second-guess she may think it unattra
ctive? no shiney faced race horse (do u ev
en lift, bro - - no dude i don't, i literally do
n't lift) cement truck clamours past and i n
ot really paying attention to the ******* c
hinese poems anyway begin to read the way
the sun glances off the spinning barrel like c
hinese poetry - - glancing always to newspea
k my way into awkwardity so ******* he
adrush she walks away, turns on heel to loo
k me in darting eyeballs (are u coming? i sup
pose so, jesus) i clamour onto my feet and foll
ow her pretend to be checking bus-times ya fu
ckin goof 15X arrives and she departs without
a smoke-signal we were close we were close we
were close and i missed my bus waiting for my
self to brave-and-snake so i walk away pretend-
careless and finally retrieve cigarette from pocket
read the smoke like chinese poetry (ghoulish goody)

I wear Red Pants and
Floral Sweaters becau
se I don't mind if I'm g
ay- - I am comfortable i
n my sexuality. she says
she noticed this. speaks h
erself up with, 'I'm observa
nt. I notice these things. Y
es.'

if you say so - - ****** funct
ion - -

- - if you say so - -

judge me how you / miss the crap I / used to bruiser brigade / a caffeine soul / a caffeine prison / a caffeine soul / a caffeine prison /

the vein clasps mentor rr rr s
exposed to coke AND mentos
vehement contamination - - correction
facility of the soul - pull-off / pull-over
push-up - pedestrian, panicking, my
map marks nothing in the nested
rest-stop

CASTLE, CASTLE

*correction facility of the soul

briefly cancer dead before it knows
me well enough make judgement
but i to blame fluorescent cigarette
smoking exhaust walk street-side
no matter what i do choice mine to
serve-vive imperial clip-clop mingle
with the disease on the dr's clipboard
such is life in disgust and days are zero
-point finance game to lingering carbon
monoxide monotony monotone marriage
syndrome granted a free pass to imax un
to death do we partially consider one another
in
**luv

the bringer is forgetter and excitement,
a letter.

so I let her forget
as I rewrite the cleft
to the left-right bottom
of my

frontal lobe.

the left side of every entrance tells me
a singer-songwrite about the fashion
in which you once entered a room..
glassing around your iris in false
-search for something to pretend
you are not paying attention to
me as much as you are to what
is in front of you because you care
so much.. beyond a comprehensible
dust-jacket mind-map lick-my-toes
and prove your

LOVE..

I kid, I kid, you love me, you
needn't prosthetic yourself into
a dark misogyny over there.
it's always strange to consider
how strangled you become in
flashy jackets bought forever
at a thrift-shop cash-register
and oh good ******* the
employee is no employee he's
a volunteer and he's been here
forever sweet mr. christie (avoiding
the obvious reference because Judaeo
-Christianity does not make

                          Good

           Cookies)

processing your purchase--
perhaps soon it'll be dollars
to counter. dollars have found
her--

**awake

TIME takes your immaturity and turns
it into personality---

HAHAthroughthelessons

you have yet to learn and

HAHAtothegrudge

you have decided to grasp
(o u wish u never met me

HAHAtothehurtustillintendtocause)

it's like you never grew up and that
melting phrase of soft Iluvyous
meant nothing but the truth is that
you meant everything you ever said
and you still do. I believe you now like
I believed you then and like all things,
things change, change is the only constant,
and you didn't love me once, you still love
me now. and you didn't hate me once, you
still
hate me now. the only way to shake the
feeling is to DIveE LIKE AN AIRPLANE
head-first into that space called *death.

mass intimacy fleshes my heart into a better part

mass intimacy fleshes my heart into a better art

I


love



you>>>>>>


*(passages to dusk and doors to dawn; sleep through the night, and you'll wake on my lawn)

i wrote myself in

     permafrost

        

       so

  you're my


global
          warming

as I gazed upon a
sad world, I imagined
that all of my rational
excuses were people
I could shake hands with--

and they were.

I swallowed my soul with 3 sips of
wine-- measured toward the dust of
us, measured toward the dust of us.