Eyeing the dawn rising from the East
          in the back seat of a car
The mist from the fields fills the country roads
        with precious calm
Time has slowed to a sweet molasses flow,
like the hovering mist
        over the road
She plays a lullaby of Bow and Arrows,
          a broken guitar
Behind her,
         I wrap my arms
around her shoulders, holding her gently firm
       in my heart
Softly singing to her ear
through a tangle of auburn hair,
over the mountains and
        under the stars
as the illuminated plum purple starts to glow blue orange, we drive
           for the dark

We’re all looking to do something real
And the words, you’ve got time
Are the biggest lie ever uttered out of the human mouth
What that really means is that we don’t know what to tell you, we can’t, first of all, the realness is too personal, everyone has their own version of what is real, time and space are relative to the observer after all, Einstein proved that, but only if all natural laws hold constant, and theoretically those probably break down somewhere after the age of 22,
No, you haven’t got time, time is an illusion, just like the trophy award ceremony where everyone wins and gets patted on the back for trying,
No, stop telling us we’ve got time, we’ve got time to flail in the wind, we’ve got time to do work, but finding the realness is beyond time, it’s the kernel stuck in the teeth of our soul, we need to water this kernel, and philosophically, everything we do may be watering this kernel, but in practicality, it feels like we’ve been going nowhere with all this time we’ve got, stop telling us we’ve got time and tell us to travel, to explore, to roam and push our consciousness to the brinks of the universe, tell us to be unafraid, not of the fact that there is still this thing called time ticking away minutes before we die, but tell us to be unafraid of what we might find when we come face to face with the realness, tell us to be uncompromising in our search, tell us to stay away from any who would tie us to the ground and care about anything other than the realness
Because we’ve all got time, until we don’t, then what are you going to say to reassure the disaffected grown youth? Sorry, but you had time, and now you don’t, we can’t coddle you anymore with stories about time and how not to worry about it, time to join the ranks of the real world. Make some money, stop wasting time.

My liquid heart romance rides shotgun in a poem
written through the ages
by the same men to stare at stars
and paint caves with angel fire
Like a river named through time
the tongues change
the flow remains

Oh my love, my vast and sacred love
Speak to me ceaselessly as a prophet of doom
drive me mad with your words
I'll listen, I'll just listen
to you who could fill the ruddy canyons of the Moab
delicately as an arch,
spanning the nothingness between us
Filling the Universe with Light & Dark
Shadow & Form
     We are made Flesh
     We are made blood
     The crazy look is in my eye
Staring out over a darkened room
Looking for my fellow fools
who know we have a right to pleasure
      Life is our wife
      We **** it at our leisure

But Beware the thinkers,
these are cerebral palsy,
from soft and sad and helpless

Beware the dreamers,
they are blind on the pretext
they do not see the world,
they deny,

As I sit staring in front of the wall
knowing that if I have the patience of Eternity
that in the twinkling of an eye
I shall see it fall

I know the food is poison
For the jungle taught me so
Hungry, I swallow the bitter pill
Alongside my pride
As my elders stand rapt
Mesmerized by glowing picture screens
The shadows of men we cannot see
Holding the strings
Engulfing us all
In penury

Longing lingers
like the smell of bonfire smoke
sealed in clothing and hair
Its the feeling for not forgotten moons
silently orbiting cloaked in midnight shadow
Wayward romances
with no tongue able to explain
why the open road suddenly narrowed and turned overgrown,
an impassable bramble of thorns
causing an undergrowth of unanswered questions
and muted yearnings

Hopeless Romantics,
how many heartbroken fill the ranks of the fallen legion
growing like spring corn to be cut down in Autumn,
giving their body to feed another,

Still,
a foolish day dreamer might escape
to the short rows awhile,
evading the sickle

Fire dancers born chasing flames,
honor bound to be burnt,
the skin bubbling and boiling sitting so close to the hearth,
yet these scars are precious demarcations of the heart,
where once possibility stretched endless before rosy eyes
like summer fields of wildflowers,

Wisdom knows that the wilderness must end somewhere,
although it waits to sprout beneath all,
yet there is sad magic in never looking around the bend,
not walking through the last stand of trees
to preserve the illusion of the forever forest

In my Country
there's an epidemic of poor posture
with no one teaching us
how to hold our guts
I traveled to faraway lands
to learn the secret
of ******* in my *****
its like walking in between
two closely parked cars
as a young lad
I stood alongside another boy
cream of the crop
slick hair blonde and mine black
one girl left for her choosing
between us side by side
Sadie Hawkins went with the other fella
and I heard the adults behind me wince
it taught me something about my pecking order
in the meat market
yet it turned out the prettiest girl at the dance
still had the last choice
and it was me
we held each other close for a time
and the music played on
white gloves and shuffling black leather, thick soles

Is our name a destiny?
Why did Caleb advise immediately take the Land?
for his faith a bounty
these knights and conquering heroes
conquistador cops
vice squads ICE raids
trade war kinderlagers
borders and the shame
of the human smell
unwashed, ***** tired
I'm not that good, I haven't washed many feet
even my own are ***** sometimes
because my floors collect dust and dirt from the porch
that wasn't swept before I came
but I'm glad to be here
a chess board on the floor
and a fern that might make it
tomorrow
we hope to be better
tomorrow
like a new morning
looking out a bright window

Vaguely I recall a dream
ripping out handfuls of nose hairs
the black bristles like bundled corn stalks
filling my palms

Madame can you tell me
what it means?
its all blavatsky to me
Yes, I'm looking deeper
into your magic crystal ball
its shape so revealingly smooth
scraping the barrel both ways
feels worn but still slightly good

how much will this coffee cost me?
Does the girl behind the counter know her *******
are poking through the green cotton shirt
tightly hugging, transfixing
with afro nose ring red ivory skin
handfuls of round large lifted ******* protruding and
mystically speaking to me in tongues, sha la la la,
with the pull of gravity,
the pull of generations triumph and **** animal fuckery
I look for the clue,
for the answer to the why of the hard ******

for to hold this shining example of proportion
to taste her and feel her with every bit of my own
it feels like I would give up everything
leave my lover,
break laws and oaths
yet here I am tempered by the moment,
eyes on a dollar going into the tip jar, i hear her thanks
my girl placidly rocking in a chair outside

"."

sweet home girl brings me succulents
in a dirt birds nest
now sitting in a sunny window sill beside
my mothers mothers christmas cactus,
one alive one wilted
I sigh at the thought of explaining the poetic meaning
regarding photos in frames
and look into the colored glass arranged
in blues and greens pinks and white
clear mother of pearl sheen glittering crystal
scarlet begonias and pink plumeria
among a coastal green auburn mountain river valley
leading to the sea

the fragrance of the cold hardy mimosa tree bloom at night
revived my spirit
after fainting from the heat
disassociating amongst the crowd
packed into stadium bleachers
receiving blasting electric guitar scoots and boots
third octave wails
John Mayer

get this
before the band takes the stage
as the lights go out
a grown man screams full throated war yip
into the back of my skull

I might have slipped into a concussion then

fitting the dose

a man brings me a beer I tell him I don't want
and won't drink, but for a sip
and for a moment I think I'm poisoned
sick from the gas or the slipped mickey
my skin leaks into a cool film
and on the precipice of the shake out
crumpled into the fold out chair
somehow I'm breathing
standing and escaping
into the flouresent halls
and into a white tile bathroom
in a mirror my skin a whiter shade of pale
than the clogged porcelain
on my way out into the streets,
touched by the warm summer air
a louse attempts to fill me in on marriage,
flagellating himself for some unseen ex-wife

I tell him to leave me alone
and the simplicity and elegance of candor
disarms him long enough
for the burracho to grunt
"Never get married.....you look like you should be left alone"

Earlier in the day
I walked into a head shop
to buy papers
the guy at the counter asked if I had ID
I don't
He said he can't sell without ID
smirking with a thumbs up
I dropped three doll hairs on the glass counter
and put the papers in my pocket

Love always, until its sometimes, then its never

but then again,

Cue Kipling

It’s time to bury the guns in the ground
Black men cuffed
shot in the back of the head
little black girls with their braids
slayed
in sleeping beds
into the dark winds
I’m crying
looking at all this senseless dying
but whose to blame?
Some say the war machine
is just part of the game

People livin' too long under fever haze
throw my ticket out the window,
throw my suitcase too,
             I can’t stay here no more

Aquarius has come with the red clay pitcher
I met him by the etruscan stone well
bloodied in all our glory
we threw the system down to hell

Dream of a poem
Dream of skin softer than a baby lamb's innocence,
half asleep beneath Christ's robes
Dream of a mid summer night's brick alleyway kiss
awakening sleeping giants,
Strong arms holding you like a polar bear blanket
keeping out the lonely cold
Dream of lips ethereal luxury so delicate, if spoken,
it may evaporate like a morning mist in the late rising sun
Dream of a warm hand's caress
filled with the knowledge of universal brotherhood,
rhythmically dripping midnight murmurs over our bodies
until the world is slathered in brilliant color

Dream of slow ripening fruit,
patiently peeled as a long coming miracle,
revealed, the rich fragrance swirls into the air
pungent as cranberry glades covered in untamed honeysuckle,
the nape of your neck sweet as newfound freedom
sung in a silver bell
rung at cupid's birth
A heart gentle as moss flower,
eyes steady as my will
Inhale juniper, desire, go deeper,
into the primeval essence of our being until we reach its flaming core,
a black stallion running wild kicking up dirt in the desert,
easy as dominoes falling we come together like night and starlight,
to shine love and lust into this symphonic world
Drink me down and you shall taste the music of my soul

Now, The morning light may never come to pass
Dawn's chorus may never pierce the horizonless sky
But for this night,
I'll wait with the infinite
dreaming of a poem

The call rises from the West Door
A steady pounding rhythm across the water
Three medicine men stand atop the Adena burial mound
hands beating against drums, rattles shake, creating spirit
a musical birth
wolf, fox, bear, ox
Nemahi Tribesmen, facing the East Gate
Climbing upwards ancient earth,
native toes sinking into soft wet ground
exchanging no words,
only melody feathers dancing on the rhythmic wind
The broken healer offers wooden peace pipe, painted polar bear
Stepping into the medicine wheel, honoring the four fathers
Inhaling sacred herbs to cleanse lungs & spirit
Nothing lost, Nothing gained
Four buzzards glide along the slip stream
Two Crows calls me Brother
Four tribesmen stand atop the burial mound
Stray dogs united

Silence now, but oh that the sound would surely shake the earth
And bring maiden knees to tremble
My death song could crumble the mighty walls of Troy
And throw brave Achilles down to dust
Running mad at night through the empty city streets,
Though none would see my nakedness in the black wet reflection of the lights
the twinkle of buried moonlit diamonds scattered on perfect snow
Can only match my brilliant solitude
The bathroom mirror reflects my fevered emptied eyes
Not one cares to see into these red-rimmed holes
destined to stare and burn as forgotten candles
I cannot blink,
a sweaty man with slick black hair sits alone
hunched over a piano
the keys dance pianissimo, evoking slow seductive suicide
a morphine dose in a rainy manhattan subway,
looking out from a window onto the frozen darkening ice,
slumped in a wooden bench seat, overnight
I want to scribble on every abandoned wall, in ******* letters,
Tomorrow I shall die

Alas, it does not matter
For what am I?

Show me the limit of love
Is it boundless as a cosmic sea of nothingness,
containing the void of all existence?
Show me an end to love
Does it penetrate all Being,
and I, a part of the whole am taken by its force like a speck of dust in the wind - blown

When the last finger slips the grip, trembling wet with exhaustion,
Will you still reach for me as my own heart reaches for you?

Even as my mind recoils at the thought
And reason rebels at the flawed logic contained within the futility of the last man standing
ambushed, surrounded, bloodied, brave, body quaking, vibrating with manic energy, eyes showering hot tears, posturing proudly, ripping a tattered shirt open exposing a naked chest to a thousand piercing arrows descending,
pounding the skin with a defiant fist in tired rage, unleashing a wild yell, swallowing life and death
He has reached the temple and tasted the wine
laid with gopis
smiled and grunted with monastic pleasure
laughed and welcomed the universe with wide open eyes

And yet, he is a fish tethered to an unbreakable line
pulling away from shore into the open ocean
endlessly swimming, dragging the weight of history
pulling and pulled
the line slacks
the fish desires the pull again
No matter, the proofs are on the chalkboard
unbalanced equations mixed with shifting solutions
dry lips gone beyond explanation
Indigo wild mixed with cinnamon and spent wicks
burnt sage, smoke filled rooms
cleansing the impure surrounding us
hands full of stones
quiet mysteries filled with fingers pointing to jupiter
mouths whistling to saturn
ink dripping under the weight of egoic worlds
squeezed as a juiced fruit
the essence becoming free as a bare foot on the earthen floor
Now, call forth the highest self and scream into the vastness of space,
LET IT GO,
the lower jaw slides forward channeling the full force of passion masking the upper mandible with unrelenting desperation to clean the spiritual house,
turn it over and reel out the dirt,
throw open the curtains and drench it all in sunlight
We are the manifestation of Destiny!
We are the descendants of Myths and Legends!
and no matter where we turn this fact is inescapable,
every corner commands us to seize the nectar and drink it down, uniting with the purpose to resonate
The ten ton weight stretching thin our souls must be released, sinking into the trenches of our past
as we bravely challenge the ravages of time and change and heartache incessant in this animal existence
Realizing infinite waters, diving deep!
Crashing through the moment
spinning, coming to the center of the universe,
it is my own perspective transcended

the past is a pack of hungry dogs forever nipping at my moving feet,
reminding the bitter cost of looking back

Waking up feeling as if I were born tired
Missing the on ramp to the free way
lost in the alleys, back tracking

Rebelling against the Universe
I Slap away the open hand
and eschew greener pastures
for a land sewn with salt
I Lick the bitter taste spread across my cracked lips
and dream of loving hot sand
slipping through my fingertips.

I once bottled the wind,
and believed that lightning bugs lasted forever in a jar,
when the luminescence faded,
alone with an empty bottle and a jar,
I popped the tab open to release the wind,
a peacock feather flew from my brim,
away into the unknown.

I stared into the jar
and saw knives piercing hearts
My own heart began to bleed
one hundred barrels of boiling quicksilver
bathed in ache
contaminating my chest

exposed, naked in front of a mirror,
I took off my mask and stared into black shadow holes,
I held out my arms for 11 minutes,
index fingers pointing to Jupiter
raged with a primal yell and saw
the animal inside my face,
alive, quaking red,
a bulging flesh emersion of veins and teeth,
and shiny eyes that see into the night
breaking the bonds that tattoo our souls
Caged birds fly free
set ablaze the brown grass
where I used to lay

Lover, you lie
and the lie you deny becomes truth
because we are animals inside
and we want to feel loved all the time.
Prophecies fruit on the tree planted by forked tongues,
plucked and tasted
sweet,
yet are they hearty enough to fill you for years?

A fortune is left on the table,
there amongst the shattered pieces
of manilla cookie shell
It reads,
"In this destruction, see the meaning"

The Muses dance in the rain
everything happening as the thoughts are processed

once again
running over Summit mounds
self prophecy fulfilling are lost in sounds
The Now
The Now
The Now
Its happening
everything your looking for is happening, open your eyes
Big **** Day!!!!
The explanation trickles down
feeling pretty good
havinga big **** day is funny
the heavenly manna spread around
The water leaking on the ground
from white open doors like the sound
inspiration all around us
just write your thoughts down
the genius in you finds a way to flow
open up your channels and self-realize
the kingdom is within your spirit
let it go, let it go
fly like the grasshoppper newly winged
jumping from blade to blade with fated leg
negativity
make the gain
be the man you speak
if you can
yes, you can

I want to be the tips of the branches of the tallest tree..
Forever emerging
Sprouting Green
My spectrum bending Flowers would burst forth
flowing from my blossomed lips
And the earth would rest comfortably
within the sterling grip
of my roots strongly planted
like a lover's kiss

Revolver

A sound so good I wanna say it again
Revolver

A taste so sweet for you to understand
Revolver

No flowers less fragrant for the passerby
Revolver

No work of art is tainted by the gazing eye
Revolver

We are dogs circling tails for tricks
A new house
made of found bricks

The original wind blown storm
Circles earth forever
once born

A thousand years staring into the Sun,
Retinas burnt remain unmoved,
I cast no shadow as my bones turn to dust,
yet these eyes still stare,
Searching for the moon

Slow smooth beats
easy as a wave coming to shore
on a trip around the world
a genesis of a whisper
a tea kettle song
I hum along
engaging at mach speed
the sky swallows me whole
and whisks away my joker's heart

I stand in a limitless ocean
dreaming of drinking the sky
if I could only live
as large as my soul
and fly

This soap box
becomes a boat without a paddle
and I row where the tides flow easiest
waving to the smiling faces and
the emptiness all the same

We have a good laugh,
the dice comes up snake eyes
and I tell the dealer
I'm the richest man in Babylon
although my pockets are empty
my smile remains,
that crooked deal
always at the last will make you shudder and groan
wondering why another hand
Aces come up straight sometimes
and your game
riding high for another mile long fall

The air rushes by
but I don't blush
Tell me again you don't love me,
you, you
misunderstand me
my friend
I'm the beggar on the street singin' broken tune
with a full cup and no change
slack eyed and the blues
my cradle to grave lullaby
mixed with the ecstatic wails of a lunatic
swimming in a puddle of God
the fever touched my bones
I am blameless
my throat and heart see the truth
and speak in convulsions
of misshapen glory
the bed was soaked in sweat,
can't you remember?

Repent,
with my lips
I don't know how,
and could never,
I'll eat every sin
and spit out bones of gold
I'll drink every misery
and cry tears of wild joy
I'll stand at the shores end
and dance to the crowning sunset
leaping from the last battered watchtower
drown, drown
in blue neon
psychedelic bioluminescence

Sinking further into the mix of clay
every gamble lost and won in the same throw
I can't fulfill any other destiny
a blind man walking without a stick
I just call to the birds and the bees
bring me sweet honey ambrosia
and they usually come

There's no escape
the long cold night comes too
and my body lays into another bed
with without a warm body to hold
a stream of lovers touching my hands
but we slip any grip
that tries to hold
a human master
but the end
******* ayahuasca
master blaster

Eject this love into space
it serves us no more

If you are looking
To escape the rain
Jump into the ocean

Let me kiss the taste of spring upon your mouth
I swear there is a side to me worth finding out
dizzy at the signs and ways we show who we are
empty cups and cigarettes on the last train car
I'm just staring at the clouds again
this blue sky is my only friend it seems
a shape shifter like me
between caviar and microwaves
hemispheres and full ashtrays
you see, your eyes reflected in me

Drinking whiskey with the devil
I've eaten mushroom heads
gone out where the real winds blow
been blown back again
I'm just singing to the air again
this guitar is my only friend it seems
it sings pretty like me
been quoting jesus and the Dalai Lam
Samson's hair was cut for love and greed
bittersweet symphonies, yea

Theres no looking back

sometimes the past just stays gone

If I could, I'd never say your name

        Unwind me of time

I still see your face clear

Overgrown, and tangled up with weeds

       Like a prisoner alone

I just mark the days long

    Drowning in bioluminosity

Oh, darling you, take my breath away

     A heart tied with knots

I lost sight of the coast long ago

Thats okay, I belong on the sea

       Take all you can, I ain't got no rope though

only handmade cannonballs and curiosity

Darling, you take my breath away

Come to the edge of the water
I wish I could tell you
you'll be safe I swear
Come to the edge of the water
the reflection of the moon
is as real as it gets out here

Flashlight, call my name with your last life
Go insane crawl out weakened
Know my name and it sweetens
whenever you say it

Dry Flowers at dawn
Why life got to be so hard?

Flashlight, call my name with your last life
Go insane crawl out weakened
know my name and it sweetens
whenever you say it

Everyday I kept dying
You heard my last gasp
Cross the battle lines
Between our pillows

Those poorly drawn pictures
Of love
Scrawled cursive beneath the overpass
In black spray paint
Lurking in the damp corner
Covered in grime
Foretelling an infinite ability to heal
Only yesterday they told me you were gone
Unlike my love for you
No confession here, all is known

****** if I’ll be dead again
To sing a one note song of rage
the taste of it blew my mind
Go and try to take its pulse
She rocks away
Vested in me by the state,
She rocks away
I hereby sentence you to be
Dead and dying

Now I’m spilling blood across the land
No horse ever ran as fast
As My cupped hands
holding warm guts
leaking between scarlet fingers
I hum a tune to pacify
Remembering all that you said
Think I’ll lose my mind
And take one last look at visions of flesh
I make out my sweaty face
Only left alone
A Monkey on my back,
aching my bones
Examining my head

And when all is won and lost
She will be your bride
In a blinking field
Of fireflies

It's afternoon and I’m standing outside in a towel. I’m smoking a menthol cigarette, or rather the ****, one of four collected from the ash tray on the brick ledge sitting in the window by my screen door. I’m surrounded by dead plants, it was too cold in the storage room for them to make it, no heat goes there. The thing about dead plants, you can never tell if they’re truly dead. There might be a spark of life hidden somewhere. Sure the leaves yellow, become brittle, while others maintain a shade of green. I’m smoking this menthol down to the filter, my skin has the watery remains of a two hour bath beading in the late winter air. It's St. Patrick’s day, and the town will be filled with drunks, I aspire to be one of them. Yet my face is dead, I don’t know how to wink. The bar tender gave me a cigarette last night, in appreciation, I blew her a kiss, our eyes met, and in both of our faces, dead plants. I watched a gaggle of muscle bound monkeys in tight shirts pounding the hardwood of the bar, hollering in tones only achieved by men watching sports together. Not the birth of a boy, not the heat of ******, can match the sound of men reveling in someone else’s athletic accomplishment. I used to sit on the bench of my middle school basketball team, we only ever lost one game, it was a catholic school hit job, the referees in the hometown pocket, it was probably the first mugging I ever witnessed in real time. If you’re enthusiastic enough, people will keep you around, the key is to never let on that you’re faking it. That’s the art of social life, that veneer that only the true actor can achieve, being so deep in character, that you believe it as your self. This smile, take it or leave it, but if you walk around smiling long enough, people will wonder what’s wrong with you. I’m smiling, I enjoy absurdity, feigned or otherwise, just yell in my face a little less, or start throwing glass and make a real horror show of it.

they say the word goodbye
is a shortened form of
god be with you

I'm candle burning low
preparing for this moment
to shout into the abyss
a canary for those
oxygenated souls of the summer
its my turn, my line is called to the front
but before I go, here are my secrets
that I'll share with you

be kind babies
to your self most of all
this thing keeps stretching on
more twisted and simple than you
can ever imagine
so have fun
chop the wood
carry the water
adulthood is the longest period of life
it can also be the best part
learn a skill
let go of outcomes
it all happens in the now
be brave, go forth to meet your destiny with a full heart
and clear eyes
you have my blessing
goodbye

Spitting blood into the sink
   from infected gums
who gives a **** anyway
  about hopeless romantic  love

Life is Happy, Life is Sad
  a poem for any occasion
She abandoned desire way downtown
  although the clock said she was aging

They had plans to leave Bangkok by train,
   two seats they didn't fill
A wayfaring stranger without a name
  prayed they never will

The music rang out like a shotgun blast
  and stung like a scorpion's tail
There was nothing left to comprehend
  just two diverging trails,
  
from me to you

did anyone seem to have the time
its too far away now to know for sure
my baby's alright
she shows me the stars and the moon at night
points up at em with her little finger and says
'ooo'

If I could tell you my secrets,
I would let them fall from my mouth
like an opened bag of marbles
they would come spilling out
shiny little pebbles of color
mine would all be black
I can't see the back of my head
and probably never will
it takes two mirrors for the reflection
and I don't even like looking into one
I'd rather see your eyes

Small town beauty with no makeup on
she wears a frilly summer dress when the days are long
in her heart she's looking for a better way

Just looking to find some peace of mind
searching in the corners where the cobwebs hide
Oh, there's nothing but dust

Out beyond the city lights
her dreams burn brighter when the sun don't shine
she lights one up, and looks away

And she says
Oh, all the simple things
no matter where I go
the sunsets in the rearview

Mescaline, LSD, psilocybin, and smokin' the cheeb
pushin' it down, but it all comes out
like rivers to the sea

She opens her mouth to let out a sound
a ******* bird with no-one around
to watch her go, as she flies away

And she says
Oh, all the simple things
no matter where I go
the sunsets in the rearview

she's a white speck on the black asphalt across the highway
like finding a grey hair in your beard
we can't stop
this infinite carousel
the abandoned mall parking lot
up and down round and round
there was something that someone was going to say
the tangent stretched on for an unbearable time
keep nodding and smiling
the words jump into this space
the slow draw never fires
the reactionary miss
its funny to see the change
in the face as they catch on
who is looking down
the barrel of this gun
a low rumble, chewed asphalt
do you see a meaning
i have one or two that you could borrow
the keys fall off the chain
the money drops out of the pocket
sometimes I can hold you
near and nearer, our bodies compressing and folding
for once our gravity combines
draw the curtains
smoke the mirrors
its cold

I fall asleep with feathers in my hair
They catch the wind
and the wind can go anywhere
I like to think that we are entangled
In ways that a child can understand
When I dream of you,
you must be
dreaming of me

i eat a cucumber in defiance of the forces that would overwhelm me

I knew there must be an end, but no beginning
like an unremembered birth
doors would close and some would open,
the tingle rushing in my skin was the clue to the key
I found the key, but had no lock
I heard the call of the wild,
I knew I was the call.
And sitting here, sweating,  
I got no where to go
strumming my guitar and letting her sing,
her voice is getting to be so pretty now,
these dreams with long tails,
they keep coming true one day at a time,
sitting back and marveling at the unfolding of time,
and these late summer flowers come into bloom,
so different then their springtime brothers,
they wait, slow grow in the sun,
and pop
when all else seems like its on the way out,
that moment at the height, the zenith before the fall,
right before the harvest,
we take stock of another season,
our golden days, in that golden hour,
a campfire illuminating the forest like a blazing pagan temple hall,
I’ll smoke and pass it around man,
I'll smoke and pass it around,
pretty blonde lady, little sea sailor girl,
sings me some jazz,
she joins her friend with armpit hair in a harmony,
she offers me whiskey from a flask
so I can sing some jazz too
And we all just show up on this mountain side,
we all just show up, without a beginning,
forgetting about a far off end
We the lucky ones, who set ourselves free

how can we be friends
               they don't love us

three minutes and not even a ****

well it wasn't much to expect anyways
          I sing prettier
barefoot
       walking on rocks

do the moans of the devils
and their lovesick blues
outweigh the choirs angels

three minutes to receive me
to make me one of your own
a merry band of travelers
set out on the road
a last hoorah of bachelors
the women
the moan

Stay strong and take things day to day -
you've done the hardest part
and now is the most desperate time
but you've your whole life
to live free now.

Counting the holes in the wall  
until we start spinning
    
  Nothing can save you at all
Not with that face

This will only hurt
  if you want it too
some people here
                seem to like the pain

I have no answer for that
  because I’m one of you
A man on a cross
Not named Jesus Christ

I tasted temptation
I’ve eaten my fill

I’ve tasted temptation
I’m hungry still

Take me to church
Pin me up to the wall
Promise me salvation
With your loving tongue

We’re all gonna die
No one gets out alive
Throw me onto the floor
Make me beg for a sign

That's what its for Carly Rose,
if you don't use it, you lose it

a bowl of green with eggs and steak on the fourth of July

      Independents day and we're whacked out Americans living breathing and dying by the scores and handfuls, the plague walks among us now, I read in the paper it says more and more get it and case numbers soar, my uncle tells me that it reminds him of Vietnam and the number of enemies KIA at the end totaling three times the entire population of the region, but I digress,


the whistle rings true and the crack and pop of the firecrackers feels good to see it, feels like you're lost caught in something special

I stumble onto an old path, past the mansions of Bexley on the edge of the railroad track overlooking the river and behind us peeking in the bend behind the trees stands the city skyline, the glass and stone towers gleaming in the darkening sunset of orange burnt moonlight encased in a tunnel of evergreen pines and peak summer shrubs alight with the blinking of fireflies, sequencing the secret we are all trying to express, I want you, I want you all, you beautiful creatures of this world, we pulsate and ;lust with every fiber of our beings hoping for a moment of sensual touch we stretch out and burn alive this word is meant for *** and love and god bless us if we can get both, running and gunning, that's what the languid pulse of the fire flies calling out with their golden green lights under the dull moon sang about as the head lights from distant cars would slide across a rail road intersection in some sleepy part of town, the full moon bright as a harvest stone, framed in this, secret forgotten, a lot, broken glass on concrete and gravel graffiti nonsense, neon bike lights dancing, leading a way through another day

Suga Booga Marshmallow milkshake pink clouds two ***** fingers
and a saucy meatball, its chill she says, thats the title, giggles to herself and Juniper Rose smiles somewhere as she raps Me and Mr. Horner standing on the corner

An old roommate Carla, told me she liked the sound of the keys because it sounded productive.

     she eats a cookie and says she did it, is proud, says its good and makes some tea laughs along to the ring, chocolate chip cookies left at our door,

how lucky are we, these cherokee blankets, small pox, Covid 9, staring at the sun,    

we live in a world where its dangerous to hug someone you love

Rained all day and night. Wind blew the window in, had to hold the ol' girl real tight and coo, Coo Coo Kachoo. Everything topsy turvy, wooden benches blown over. Fields flooded and streams form in the valleys and glades. Water on the road. The day before the radio took a break reporting about the virus to speak about the latest genetic editing break through. Restoring sight to the blind they say. In the basement below the Courthouse steps a deputy takes my temperature, pressing a device against my temple, I imagine how many other heads its met in its tour of duty touching Tom, **** and Sally. 98.6 straight down the middle. Turn to the deputy, ask him if he's got an MD, call em Doc. Its all so sudden isn't it? how quickly your local Court visit to file some paperwork becomes more of an ordeal. It used to be you could walk into any door without being scanned, poked and ****, but here we are, the sum total of something invasive, the other deputies guarding the other court jokes about ****** exams. I'm not waiting for the snakes.

Brave the flood to drive into the slow muddy river lands. Tell the Judge's assistant I'll make it so long as its passable. She contacts the Sheriffs and suggests a C-curve, I drive it straight through, meet a man with tattoos on his face, stars around the eyes, jump man on the cheek. We say our goodbyes and I drive amongst the cows and flooded roads. Twisting and turning, high water, so fragile, the mud that holds my tire.

Social distancing, per cdc guidance, calls for six feet of space. A week ago that was a punch line.
I walk into a local grocery for the second time in as many days to pay an energy bill that I missed the first time around. The lady at the counter wears long leopard braids and labors over a copy machine in service to a big fat momma who had the modern Peabo set as her ringer, and as Peabo sang a few bars, the minutes dragged on in full elucidated purgatory, I remained transfixed by the ways in which we are so humble and meager, yet strangely beautiful.

Anyways as the minutes continue to roll in the exposed air, I sense a man approach from behind, I take a few steps forward beyond the roped line towards the counter, and in sheer pack solidarity he too closes the distance. Its at this time that an inner voice reminds me of the cdc guidance and I shuffle a few feet forward. The man behind closes the distance and then coughs. He begins to speak into his cell phone, the raspiest voice I've ever heard, like burnt tin foil, but recently intubated, quiet, weak. My fight or flight kicks in, an urge to confront quakes and passes, civilization holds. The copy machine continues to hum and baffle sweet Taylor and her braids. Big Fat Momma's nails click on the counter, the posted paper sign informs customers that no returns will be accepted but fresh produce that does not meet standards can be exchanged. A lady from the checkout line laughs and talks about icing for her sons birthday cake, her cart is full, she looks early forties and slightly tired, but still good. A store clerk has bright red hair contrasted by her creamed coffee skin. People are wiping everywhere, wearing gloves. Wiping surfaces, screens, baskets. People hold paper towels in their hands to pick up baskets, open doors. Somebody told me they Lysoled their debit card. And the man behind me continues to cough and wheeze. He's not covering either, not even turning away. I'm at the counter with Taylor now, and I get a good look at him. He's a big fat man bald as a shiny tan bowling ball wearing a yellow T-shirt and God bless him a full on bond villain eye patch. He's got a goatee and mustache, and now I have a pain in my neck.

Camus Camus, sweet plague dumpling, dim sum.

The first day declared a national emergency, I walked into the Hong Kong House. It was all so much, the President called it the 'Chinese Virus' and there I was confronted by the white board of specials, all written in chinese characters, it was too much, this time I ran. After collecting myself, we rallied the party and walked back in and the first person we see is an asian fellow with luggage. Coughing behind walls. We tried to order dim sum, but the guy who usually makes it already left the building.