In the beginning the world was perfect, and small enough to fit inside a marble, like a book you can judge by the cover, in the beginning was the word.

And then everything exploded, and nothing could be reduced back down to a single atom, and nothing was alone, and the word was with God.

And everything was pulled together to form the earth, and they divided things up into animals, vegetables, and minerals, and then two became one and the word was God.

And then the land was molded into valleys and mountains, and nothing could be created or destroyed in the ocean of matter, and the spirit of God was floating over the water.

In the beginning was the word, and the word was with God, and the word was God, and the spirit of God was floating over the water.

In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth, and he saw that it was good.

pull the lever
and flush steroids
into the water
to make the fish grow larger
soon we'll have to buy
a bigger ocean

as I age the environment around me is also aging at the same time, it's impossible to remain in one place,

and near my family reunion: my father is still digesting a piece of gum, he says "I was never the type to believe in horoscopes," says "let's beat this guy up and take his telescope"

My God is the best God     my umbrella keeps rain
from touching my forehead, a stone they roll away

I take a drawing for a basket of airplanes, rainbows
over movie posters      a city that fell into the ocean

Pushing the envelope against the rain, I fake a letter
of trigonometry     declaring myself to be a dead body

A tattoo of a drum beating under a cloud      **** me
up with a conundrum, using double negative numbers

Probably a fake whirlpool, the natural condition of
radioactive material, a sound dripping out from a hole

I run open the door with a flag, they stole the border
back from the goverment, pretending to be Indians

I wish I was a moth, to find more comfort in lightbulbs.

I haven't eaten all day,
outside that cats wail like
an ambulance siren.

Then everything goes quiet,
like the body of one who has died.

Inside the kitchen I drink
from the right side,
of the faucet.

I wait for the ladder to disappear,
to the attic
to the ceiling
to the roof of my dream.

I throw my soul into the garbage disposal.

I tie my shoes,
with the ink from today's newspaper.

I don't have a problem with stringing
my heart out, play me like a guitar on
the radio, I keep locking my keys out
of my car, I point my chest into the sun
and touch other problems

     bullet, bullet, gun,