last night i dreamt in one hundred years—or maybe Tuesday
(something close to an emotional green) with my wings, green-wings, solid feet,
a ****** of crows, & bluebird things

a thing lives inside of me: a barnacle surface, broomy orange, windy love, a natural disaster—i think a hurricane

between lust and between gators, these origins of sweets from a great war, helium-ballooned a golden crown into my iron bear mussels

a november cliff forged a giant's causeway; crystals bestowed on the honeywells, a giant's love of separation—we are all a salmon skin,
a fiery light, limestone a buck and a half in our sour grasps

last night i dreamt i saw the giants
they roared like lions, crushed ghost shrimp with their feet and laid their moss
inside of my navel where i used to hide rivers

a thing lives inside of me: it crashes, wrinkles into a beast, grimaces an Oedipal song, plays Saturn games, it rings

Let us share
        an incantation of the old world
Let us unfurl words like a string of pearls
torn from ocean deep - I battled Krakens
to bring you these words – let me wreathe
the drowning seed of ancient demons
in a modern tale of high rise jewellery
You can wear me at your leisure
for I am a book of poetry - open in your hands
caress my pages - I offer ages of wisdom in sand
strung sorrowful about a stony neck
can you see the mystery of that cloud
striated by the mountains tip carved
deep into the sky in defiance of the wind
unbowed by time yet so vulnerable
to lion and tiger, to the hermit and his tearful rain
did you know that every beach was once a mountain?
so every ocean floor kissed the sky in its youth
let us built these fragments into clamshells
string them on pearlescent pages turned
by curious eyes and ponder how time
makes a mystery or a monster of us all
Let us share
              this incantation of the old world
for in words
              we can live forever

Run.
'Cause I have to pursue you,
You got me with voodoo,
Who does it like you do?
None.
Overcome with the new you,
Swept in the word,
Of a curse,
Of a homebrew:
Fun.
I knew that I knew you,
But all that I've been through
Is enough to give into.
Come.
Come with me and we'll run to
A place where the sun dew
Is run through with rainbows
And all that is come due.
Want to?

I hear the moon is nice
This time of year,
And since it lacks an atmosphere,
There would be no storms to fear.
Sunny days and vistas clear...
I bet I could see my house from there!
Just leave the doors of the house shut tight,
And live alone, there in the night,
With all the world, there in my sight.
I'd have the view to keep me right,
And stars as friends to salve my plight.
Whirling 'round in endless flight,
I'd dance with Earth in points of light,
'Til Earth and Moon next reunite.

Three little bubbles
Floating on the breeze
One went off in to the trees
One went high up in the sky
And the last one popped
Right in my eye

I'll blow a bubble around you
and you'll float away
then you'll be out of my hair
for the rest of the day

Don't try to stop me
Im warning you
I have a new gun
called the zuber-de-****

It may sputter and spink
it may weight a ton
but who cares as long
as it gets the job done.

A cactus in a plastic *** all year ‘round beauty skips.
But to its own advantage, so too, do snails and thrips.

Its outward look gives not the eye the pleasure eyes demand.
It even spitefully responds to its caretaker’s hand.

However, once in a blue moon (If you’ll pardon the cliché)
Sun kissed jewels emerge to show their bountiful array!

Other plants all year ‘round blossom, showing off their prize
But the cactus reveals an unforseen beauty hidden in its guise.

The itty bitty city kitty
She thought she was the best
She thought she was so witty;
Much better than the rest.

The itty bitty city kitty
Begged to be put to the test
That’s the reason for this ditty
She felt there was no contest.

The itty bitty kitty
Runs home to her nest.
She hates the nitty gritty;
Her voice loudly expressed.

The itty bitty kitty
Will always request
Travis Tritt and Conway Twitty
For her country music zest.

The little bitty kitty
In the cold she wears a vest.
She never learned to knitty
Though we’d have been impressed.

The itty bitty kitty
Takes scorn as just a jest.
She doesn’t need your pity.
She’s on a kitty quest.

The little bitty kitty
Likes her covers messed.
It kind of makes her giddy.
Likes her comfort best.