Fascist fascist
Fascinating
Liberating or degrading
Hangs from single strings
Nothing comes and no one sings
No one laughs and nothing breaks
See the cracks drip down my face

Fascist fascist
Fascinating
Fascinating fascist face
Flash-forward foreshadow
White cold lace
Not as durable as we first thought
But the car is packed
In the parking lot
I light the cigarettes we bought
And now there is no going back
Not back to there
Nor back to that
Not back to night
Nor back to day
Nor back to summers
Far away

Fascist fascist
Fascinating
Forget my fascist family tree
The fascist fascist memory
And moustache moustache damaging
Or fresco firefly reverie
Just tell me that I’m yours
Sign the line
Like you have before
This is where we are right now
Two souls alive
In the empty town
Two souls alive
In the ******* ghost god-empty town.

So, What think you of Whitman?
And what say I of Plath?
I understand all but maybe half
On my greatest finest day
(dearest, how’d we get this way?)
How’d we fall so far from grace?
How’d this canyon split my face?
Maybe it’s the trace trace amounts of fascist.

Fascist fascist
Fascinating
Friday fickle convocating
Tragic talent intubating
All the world smiles, undulating
But in the end
You’re still a fascist.

two twenty-one
where have you gone
master of  all tides
my sole, myself I sit beside

two twenty-two
where are you
avenger of mind
wound up, unwound, unwind

two twenty-three
the places you could be
sensor of life's lives
free fall, free form, free ride

two twenty- four
myself at the door
pretender the unwise*
chasing, chanting life's guise

Sweet, sweet breeze, oh sing me to sleep-
The sun and the dust and the quiet we keep.
The secretive, beautiful, hot July Moon,
A forbidden, lonely, and quiet, dark room.
The place in the light, a village of sorts
A song and a fight, and pillow house forts
A dress and wind and a rain and the trees-
A wheel and a road and a sky and a please-
A fear and a love and a joy, oh, how free
To know that this time and this place is not me.

It is said virtue possessed by a sage causes him no misfortune
But it is he who must decide between rage or a stoic nature
In all of life he sees the destruction cast by man’s emotion
The will of another man is how he determines which is greater

Would he hang a nun in the town square if it would save a forest?
He once could see snow on the mountain tops in the spring
And now that he can only see rock he wondered of his desires
Was it for mankind or the bounties he received to hear nature sing?

If only his will could be released from the evil and the good
Then his form would guide his views within the natural state
But what has cleaved to him is being torn away while he grieves
And the steps he takes can only hear the voices of his fate

The aggression of making a life made an orphan of conservation
But lives alone in the wild was intended for our own good
A revolution cannot begin until it reaches those with something to lose
Until then one man will give his life as his mother knew he would

Seven days
Seven days repeat them
Repeat them over
One by one
Seven by seven.
Seven colours the sky smiles
Seven times seventy
And seventeen years
Seven levels of hell
And seven sins to send you there
Seven princesses
Sailing seven seas
And seven sea monsters to sink them
Seven lies and seven truths
Seven wonders
On seven continents
That I will never see
Seven dreams
On seven nights
Seven kisses
Seven kisses
Seventeen years
Seven stars and seven seals
Seven heads and seven hills
Seven trumpets
Seven thunders
Seven bowls of wrath
Seven years for complete cell replacement
And it’s been seven
Seven years of plenty
And seven of famine
(which are we in?)
Seven seconds to count down
Seven candles to light
On seven golden lampstands
7-Up and 7/11
Seven days
Seven days repeat them
Repeat them over and over and over
Seven years repeat them over
Seventeen repeat it over
Repeat it over
Repeat it over and over
Seven cells replaced in seven
Seven tears cried in seven
Seven out of seven
And seventeen years
Seven dwarfs and seven demons
Seven secrets
Concealed by seven lies
Seven torches we bear
Seven oaths and seven gemstones
Seven crowns on seven kings
And seven horns
And seven eyes
Seven plagues!
Oh, Lord seven plagues.
Seven spells for seven curses
On seventeen days
And the Seven Years War
In seven days I built myself
And in seven seconds I’m destroyed
Seven feathers fall to earth
Seven stars all align
And seven Gods stole my soul
Seven slaves owned by seven masters
Seven burdens
Seven burdens
Seven beasts
Seven prayers leave my lips
Seventy Hail Mary’s to save you
And seven angels
Seven spirits to seven churches
Seven sweet friends
That left me
Here’s what they don’t tell you
Seven lives mean seven deaths
And seven joys mean seven pains
Seven sisters mean seven funerals
And seven suns mean seven rains
And seven
And seven.
I’ve been stuck on seventeen
For an eternity
Repeat it
Repeat it over
Repeat it over
Seven
And seven
And seven
Teen.
Seven days
And I’ll be home to a house I’ve never seen
In a country I don’t belong to
And a language I can’t speak
And it’s all just seven
And seven
And seven
Teen.

Museums as art
Art as museums
Sail the trail to my mausoleum
Psychopaths and physicists
Psychiatrists and philosophers
Philanthropists and pilots and painters


Declare now, that these are our days –
Our hours, and our days
These are our city, our hours
Our time, our days.


This is our world –
At 14:92 I landed here and claimed it
And searched it and found it wanting
Of civilization that I could so easily supply
By means of wounds and iron
And brawn and truth
(and just a tiny touch of influenza darling)
By means of our Lord,
Who grants us all that we desire
If only we **** enough of those he did not choose.
This is our world –
And we shall make it what we will
Make it in our own image
Teach it that innocence is not knowing the difference between right and wrong
Raise it to hate no one
But to love itself so deeply
That all other love seems hateful in comparison.
This is our child, love
Yours and mine.


Here the first shall be last
And the last shall be first
But once the first are last they shall be
Last
Last
      Last
And once the last are first
They shall make it so they can never be last again
This is our primitive accumulation
Of necessary materialism
Let’s cultivate matter
To make objects that we can place on shelves
And in cases –
These are our cases
And we love them as we love ourselves


Museums as mass graves
Mass graves as museums
Kiss me in my mausoleum
Priests and prisoners
Prostitutes and prophets
Pioneers and pilgrims and pagans


This is our time –
And we are dispensing it in spendthrift increments
Buying threadbare bandages for our cavernous canyons
Buying ample earplugs
To seal in the silence
So we can somewhat say
“look there is peace –
Look we have done it
In our time it is accomplished” – 


This is our peace –
And we know it by the signs
The lions and lambs lay quietly together
In our brass-barred zoos
For as long as shelves and cases
Are intact and the first are first
And the last are last
And the civilized are organized and holy
There is peace –
Oh, look
We made peace!

And as for Solomon and Socrates –
We take their words to weave through our new wisdom
And when we re-chart the constellations
We shall give them each a star
And salute them once a year
When they come around the universe
Oh, look
How wise we are!

Mass graves as art
Art as mass graves
There have been no better days
There has been no greater time
Politicians and pornographers
Professors and pirates
Psychologists and pastors and pianists


This is our time –
And we are doing with it the very best we know how
The last are toiling and trying
And the first are trying to think to try –
But there is a shortness in our hours
And a violence in our peace
There is inherent foolishness in our wisdom
And disease in our cities
And there is death upon our shelves and in our cases.

This is our world –
We crafted it and declared our truth to be true
We sculpted this, our colosseum
Please inscribe my mausoleum
With “we know not what we do”