On a late summer
Night in the prairies
The Big dipper
Is bright
Clears as a swear word
Turn up the volume of the
Sounds of nature
And night.

How can I sleep

I like to play dominoes on pizza!
It brings in such an interesting flavor!
Only when it is fresh out of the oven,
Not when it is reheated the very next morning!

A nice thick base!
With tomato paste!
Clothed in cheese!
Sporting meaty toppings!

I pilot this Italian plane with a cargo of
screaming cheeses.
Heading down the corridors into the chamber between two orifices!

Oh little pizza,
Where we are going,
No one can hear you.
My mouth is foaming,
I just want to taste you.
My palms are sweating,
My lips are quivering,
I need to put you in my mouth.
Got me feeling like my higher self!

The pizza’s sad.
The hotdog’s sad.
The pasta’s sad.
The ice cream’s sad.
The map is sad.
The sauce is sad.
The walnut’s sad.
All of these little things are sad!

Taking this pizza,
To the kitchen island,
With a black and white handkerchief.
I gently hold it in my hand,
And lift it up to my trembling face.
Mouth outpouring for a smooth landing.
It’s going to a very dark place.

You look so tasty,
Take a step into my sliding meat elevator.
I close the doors,
And I am met with another dimension of flavor.
We are going down,
Take this ride with me,
We are heading to flavor town.

do you like to worship yourself
better than worshiping anyone else?
do you look at any glass
except the ones that show yourself?

haven't you heard?
the towers have fallen!
haven't you heard
That towers can fall?

and then, just when
I thought I had seen it all...

i found myself sitting in a different
                                     room
  it looked like a palace
                         but it was a tomb
  like a bleeding, barren womb
  like a child born far too soon
       and it was dark
       and i was scared
       and adults were gathered in a far-off room

and there were things in there with me
that the adults couldn't see
and they were dark and they were small
with the sharpest little teeth

I'VE LOST SOMETHING
something's been taken!
they tore something out of me
     i knew the moment
     i awoke
     and saw the daylight flee

do you paint pictures of food
to donate to starving children?
do you max out your credit card
to profit off God's business?

the towers
shining like mirrors
we see our reflection
   then all is just shattered
   then all that once mattered
   is a column of smoke in the wind
        and angels descend
        from mansions pretend
        to caverns below
        where old Titans stow
                  away
     awaiting the day
      that Chaos will arrive
      their savior
and swallow Earth and its deepest recesses
and them along with it all
   and Vishnu sleeps
   on the endless serpent

A chalky, sepia-washed room seen through an ailing CRT. Vantablack lines sprawl across my gnarled face in patterns, playing games with the sun that blares on through the rangy blinds.

Digital clock: 2:43

A cardinal red cigarette pack in my right hand, a turkey baster in the other, submerged deep within the sheet's motherly void. The simmering glow of the hallway dances like a pendulum; a vicious debutante, waiting to coerce me into life. I am enveloped by some capricious rhythm that has no origin, and no destination.
I'm coming to uncertain terms with this lucid halcyon.

Ink drips, from the pillow to my shoulder. I am currently a piece of fiction, held within a lissome frame. This is complete autonomy. Nothing is as it really was, only what it should've have been from the very start. A muted slur from beyond the window comes hurtling through my head. It starts to look like a tumor tree, having its branches, limbs, and spine torn to and fro in such a hideous manner. I've let something go to my head. The dream is broken, through no request of my own.

After years of trying to find yourself
You found everyone else instead,
And found out what kind of people they are,
So you took that knowledge
And a silver ***,
And you put the knowledge in the ***,
And you put the *** on a stove,
And you cranked up the heat,
And language boiled away,
And you cranked up the heat,
And eye colour boiled away,
And you cranked up the heat,
And preference boiled away,
And after 9 days of tending to the *** –
A charred smell hit tired nostrils,
Because all that remained in the ***
Was the burnt and brown mess which is human nature,
And in the metal walls: your own reflection.

He enjoys the lonely places at midnight

Afraid of the sun and the fluttering sparrows,

Darkness speaking in new dialects,

As anarchic illuminations converge.

The heavy footed phantom

Continually following him,

With their mysterious astronomy,

And ancient symbols.

The gateways opens a gothic reality,

Apocalyptic in scale.

worlds within
and without are all waning
insatiable
chaos
vacuum
the void
which sat between heavens
heavens splitting the waters
the waters, the weeds
create living geometries

etch-a-sketch drawings
of silent mandalas

now the dreamweaver
lotus
now the lucid unwaking ones
who appear at your bedside
disdaining your closet

while you lie
awake
sleeping
hypnogogically paralyzed
their eyes burning green
freeze your skies
red
as

Christ
comes

you
trapped in misogamy
you
flying through tattered air
you
****** off this oxygen
burned by the stare
of a mirror

She was looking like a carrot,
With a green hat and orange dress.
She was spotted by a rabbit,
Who was hungry for a taste.

He now can see in the dark,
No longer needs to wear glasses.
He goes to tell his friends,
Restoring vision like he is Jesus.