i exist (am the spider in the sky)
listless drips onthrough
leaves
that
tickletouch my
(bodiless; body
and i caress
each tree
like a distant lover
and each leaf (are the earthen fingertips)
is the
strangling fruit
that lies in the
hands of the sinner.

and i am the sinner.

and i(sinner)am the
quiet roar that
touches your
chest when
the earth
wakes each morning.

and i(sinner)have
come to take you away.
because when they burn you
to bits-
((the sinner : the hyena) that
needs for the fleshscraps.)

and it hurts
when you breathe
because you
bite me like an apple
and your lungs
are teeth.

and it tickles
in the trees

and i (am the spider in the sky)
have got you
to eat you like a bug,

and you sit in my web,
and admire the view.

Desk creaks under pile of calendars
Desk creaks under pile of calendars
Arranged like candy below a piñata
Arranged like candy below a piñata
Candy pile arranged below like creaks;
Calendar of desk under a piñata

I have not seen a new movie in a year
I have not seen a new movie in a year
I wonder what it is that I have missed
I wonder what it is that I have missed
I I I that is it.
A wonder movie in a missed year, what have not seen have new

It is time to walk about the place
It is time to walk about the place
I get up and sit down, my *** growing bigger
I get up and sit down, my *** growing bigger
Place bigger time up my ***
Growing down about the walk, I get to sit and is it

Sit in creaks under a bigger year
I have time to wonder what is arranged of calendars
I get *** like a piñata growing candy
I walk up and down the movie
It is that desk I have not missed about my new place
Seen it below a new pile

I must reek of gasoline
As I trudge around
Like a slug
Leaving behind a trail
For the fire to follow
Always racing
Closer and faster
Ready to leap
And devour its prey

The soft breeze picks up my hair then drops it
as dark clouds come rolling through the sky.
Rippled in gray, the world becomes less lit
as though the heavens above thought to cry.
But don't weep for us now, it's beautiful.
There is nothing so glorious as dust!
The smile on my face is not dutiful—
this is joy as the wind begins to gust!
Something inside me loves the dissonance:
the broken sun runs away, reflecting
the desperate gasping for deliverance.
A return to the day we're expecting.
   The rain, the wind, all mutely testify
   to each bright day suddenly gone awry.

She caresses
my
chest
while I walk
and we're
tumbling on a
horizontal
plane
and I
need her
hands
to
hold me
lest
I tumble drip into nothingness.
My body
and
her body
fold
together
and
my hands
and
her hands
intertwine
and
she looks
me in
the eye
without blinking
and disappears;
the seductive songs of the wind.

As an artist
I forgot
how to
draw the
feminine
form,
but
I used
the women
at the gym
to inform
and refresh
my amateur
artistry.

This marks the birthing of monumental proportions
turning a black and white world to one of perpetual
variegated sunrises. You are the furthest thing from
an accident.  You continue to cultivate one step at a
time breathing new life into each set of hungry eyes
waiting to confront the trojan line that produces the
battles in the brain.  What to write next is under the
surface,  patient and dormant,  for the future paints  
you in the adrenaline of other colors.   Instinctually,
I look to you and surrender to the abrupt,  arresting
grip of the ghost of a thought that’s just out of reach.