Shadows
Heal
Everything
Disruptive
Imagine
Epitaph
Destroyed
Walking
Inn­ocuously
Treasuring
Honorably
Keep
Alive
His
Nobility


Past her bed-time,
(before alarms cast their spell of reality)
she arrives on this same hour;
by his tombstone like
clockwork.
Just as Kahn used to leap on the kitchen counter ,
Every morning when mother would leave for work.


Bells tease her,
(dangling from doorknobs with the reminder that)
no orange cat with a tiger’s heart;
would ever roar again.
Bereavement.
Every exit and entry into her house teases her.
A house is not a home if agony tucks her in at night.




Her days deteriorated.
“Why don’t you just get another cat? or maybe a dog?”
Fools who dig cut glass into gaping wounds.
They don’t want a new beginning, only
to see how much she can bleed.
Dreaming of when furry comfort kneaded her shoulders;
clutching onto her memories, beside her dead friend ‘s boulder.



There are worse causes of death than collision via milk truck
Yet not much worse than feeling struck by
a satanic-cow, spilling death & badluck.

Welcome to the land of golden trout

Where black bears roam and hawks still shout

In the eastern Sierras, hills of the west

Tales of the Adventurers and their first test.

Forming an alliance in Santa Cruz

They left together, unwilling to lose.

Packing up and heading down the trail

They knew as a team they would never fail.

Without a moment’s hesitation nor shred of doubt

The crew took their Tools of Tenacity out

And in less than three months flat

The Adventurers finished, exclaiming “that’s that!”


But who composes this mysterious crew?

Wait just one moment, I promise I’ll tell you.

First, there’s Nico the Noble, the leader so fearless

Who also frightens many when he’s not beardless;

Followed by Ben the Benevolent with his hearty laugh

And never without his Capitals hat;

Kahn the Courageous has his wild antics

Telling stories with Buckeye semantics;

Jamie the Just and her vegan ways

Had to eat lentils for most of her days;

See Jen the Jubilant with camera-in-hand

Shaving logs for as long as she can;

The team’s newest member, Maggie the Merciful,

Has now experienced the wilderness in full;

Tim the Wise lacks alliteration, unlike the others

But has chased many cows, some scraping their udders;

And at last there’s me, the Notable Narrator,

So our crew’s legacy can live forever.


In our quest the crew has changed slightly.

Those unable to handle the tasks lightly

Had left- like Mary, Bobby, and Stary the Skeptical

All well-admired, and mostly respectable.


Now let’s shift our story to the work completed

In the struggling meadow, its health near-depleted.

Using fallen trees that have long-since passed

We found a clearing with their numbers quite vast.

Cutting the deceased into sixteen-foot longs

And lugging them over thickets and bogs

Our team stacked them perpendicular

To the stream, or creek, in particular

And in a magician’s “ta-da!” moment

Water rose up to our new component,

Flowing over the freshly-made dam

Then briefly meeting with dirt and sand

At the bottom. Multiplied by thirty

And that was work: rigorous and *****.

But why were the Adventurers sent there,

To build check-dams and do repairs?

It was, in part, human consumption

That led to the meadow’s near-destruction:

America’s insatiable need for beef

Will not, for a long time, see any relief,

So Industry has pushed forward, sending cows to the fields

Grazing and growing to become our future meals.

But little did Industry know how devastating

Hundreds of cattle leave an ecosystem suffocating.

Trampling grass and dispersing banks underhoof

The bovine are easily guilty, there’s so much proof.

Stupid, noxious, and obnoxious creatures

Recognized by these, easily their best features.

Incessantly screaming day and night

They are more like demons by every right.

Yet the Forest Service lets ranchers send

Hundreds of cattle, seemingly without end.

And while the Golden Trout crew fixed things,

It’s not enough to ease the strain the cows will bring.


So what can we do, if anything at all

If we go veggie will Industry stall?

Can the end of beef save the earth

Is society only worried when we gain in girth?

That’s not for me to say right now

It’s up to you to answer the “how?”


But I digress, I must end the story

Of the Adventurers and their summer glories.

In the end they saved the meadow, saved the day

Held the bovine rampage at bay,

Raised water levels, erosion erased,

Then was the time to leave that place.

So the Adventurers hopped in their van,

Eight warriors mean, lean, and tan,

And took off down the mountainside

To Santa Cruz and the oceanside.

Each followed one’s own path

But only after taking many baths.

The Golden Trout legacy will live forever,

Only made possible by the best crew ever.

I’m not good at being forward
I have this habit of becoming disordered
I let my emotions change the color of my sleeve
In my aspirations I hope to find belief
I walk through jungles and rainforests
Once in a while I see through the canopy
Into the skies of my memories
And request that stars dance to the rhythm of us
I keep them alive to avoid the gathering of dust
My memories, caught in the Pensieve of your eyes
Have ignored all the times I told myself lies
I may not be your ideal Superman
But I’d accept Peter Pan if you’ll go with me to Neverland
I’ve rarely been so captivated by a girl
Sure, Zooey Deschanel is quirky in New Girl
And Emma Watson bewitched me from the start
Anna Kendrick was perfect in Pitch Perfect
Alex Morgan is the luckiest 13 I’ve ever seen
But I choose you! To fill my canteen
You quench my thirst when the loneliness dries me
I was not made to walk in a desert
My heart is an amphibian
Living like a Floridian in the ice-cold tundra we call Rexburg
You still need the sun, no matter how much it snows
I’ll trudge on in the jungle; dormant in the night
I’ll carry on with you in mind, until the time is right
Once I’ve faced death, or even a spider
Then, I think I’ll top the greats; George of the Jungle, Aslan, Mogly, Tarzan, Batman, Peter Pan, Harry Potter, Genghis Kahn, Michael… Jackson or Jordan
They’re all kings and I’ll be in their league
As I shake off the fatigue and find courage in you
To make it through the awkward moment of simply saying
“You’re a real kind of gorgeous”
In that chorus, played on my rhythm of heartbeats
I found my way out of the back streets
From deep in the jungle I’ve come to know as Fear
A jungle that disappears when your presence is near
Sometimes I have to stop walking, stop thinking
I feel like I’m on the verge of something spectacular
Anything normal might ruin that

Iridium fastball pitches
from Zuni serpent mound,
bottom of the 9th walk-off homerun
over 30ft diving moai.

Slide to home base in volcanic lava
to congratulatory ***** Gatorade bath
from Kubla Kahn forefathers,
chanting psychedelic clubhouse anthems.

Levitate from home plate
and land atop Pyramid of Cholula for victory dinner;
for since we’re all artists in our dreams,
true dreams never come true.

A starship is in orbit, around an unknown planet.
Science officer Mr Spock, is just about to scan it.
Lieutenant Uhura's on the bridge, she's on communications.
Unscrambling the garbled messages, from different alien nations.

At the weapons station, Pavel Chekov's a good aim.
Birds of Prey and battle ships, torpedoes locked on again.
Helmsman Hikaru Sulu, he will take evasive action.
Avoiding fleets of enemy ships, with his fast reaction.

Bio beds are operational, report to the sick bay.
Doctor McCoy's ready to heal, with his hypospray.
Christine chapel will assist, she is the ships top nurse.
Helping with the medi scan, if anything gets worse.

Way down in engineering, you will find Montgomery Scott.
Tending to his engines, he's giving it all he's got.
The captains personal Yeoman, will always lend a hand.
She's versatile and beautiful, and known as Janice Rand.

A planets cultural Interference, this directive is our prime.
Is Kevin Reilly going to sing, "Kathleen" one more time.
This is Starfleet's finest crew, it comes as no surprise.
Captain James T Kirk's in command of the Enterprise.

Tricorders at the ready, step of the turbo lift.
The Galileo Seven needs Dilithium, the shuttle's set adrift.
Let's look in the engine room, there's an Enemy Within.
Transporters are malfunctioning, creating an evil twin.

The Changeling Nomad got destroyed, a classic computer error.
They matched the Romulans ship exact, in Balance Of Terror.
Tomorrow is Yesterday, with a sling shot around the sun.
Phantom bullets will not ****, The Spectre of the Gun.

A shape shifting monster is aboard, a Man Trap to revolt.
Just give it what it desires, a large amount of salt.
Young men like Mr Evans, shouldn't be all that complex.
He can **** with just a look, that's why he's Charlie X.

Wasn't it the Deadly Years, when the crew got old.
Jack the ripper then returned, in Wolf In The Fold.
Pon Far fighting to the death, this was a Time Amok.
Believing captain Kirk was dead, and killed by Mr Spock.

McCoy had to heal the creature, before they could Embark.
The Horter was protecting her young, in The Devil in the Dark.
Vampire clouds smell sickly sweet, It was a valuable lesson.
Firing sooner makes no difference, cos it was a pure Obsession.

Kirk used the Corbomite Manoeuvre, Balok was just a boy.
Captain Garf took over the asylum, in Whom Gods Destroy.
A parent's death, no remorse, And The Children Shall now Lead.
Kahn's a genetically engineered superman, found frozen in Space Seed.

They had Trouble with Tribbles, too fast in reproduction.
Light In Operation Annihilate, caused the parasites destruction.
Caught in the Tholian Web, lost in between dimensions.
Mudd's Women had an agenda, and their own hidden intentions.

An Arena was selected, so Kirk could fight the Gorn.
It's guaranteed when Kirk fights, his shirt is always torn.
On a Journey to Babel, Sarek hadn't seen his son for years.
Him and Spock are logical, and both have pointed ears.

What are Little Girls Made Of, was replaced by robotic law.
Three Witches sent a warning, to beware of the Catspaw.
You will be accelerated, within the Wink Of An Eye.
Doctor McCoy will say " he's dead Jim" if anyone should Die.

United planets quest for piece, the federations ultimate desire.
The Klingon war, a warriors way, to create their own empire.
Phasers charged and set to stun, grab your communicators.
Save the ship, protect the crew from all war instigators.

The final frontier is out there, turn over treks first page.
Captain Pike was in command, and captured in The Cage.
Number one was female, but she didn't take the glory.
Pike relived The Menagerie, but it's still the same first story.

We've scanned for alien life forms, and stepped through the Guardians door.
We have been to Vulcan, and Where No Man One Has Gone Before.
So live long and prosper, the captain is on deck.
Beam up the landing party, to continue our star trek.

Everybody knows today's figures.
Lincoln Park. Kanye West. Beyonce.
Musicians. Artists. They are all praised in today’s society.
But nobody knows the names of people who actually matter.

Willis Carrier. Invented the air conditioner.
Nobody knows his name.

Robert E. Kahn. Made the internet.
Nobody knows his name.

The problem with today’s society
Is that the minds of young people are being poisoned.
By the schools who leave things out of textbooks.
By the people on the street, screaming their views.
The riots, the protests, the hell of today.
Poisoning the minds of young people.

Reed Hastings. Marc Randolph. Nobody knows them
Yet millions of people use Netflix.

SalvinoD'Armate. Nobody knows his name.
Yet over 4 BILLION people wear eyeglasses.

Young people today hate history.
They think, “Why do we need to learn about dead people?”
George Santayana once said:
“Those who cannot remember the past, are condemned to repeat it.”
We learn these things, not to be bored in history class.
Not to just **** time in the day.
But to inspire. To help young people to become creative, more innovative.

Imagine a world, where Alexander Bell never made the telephone.
Imagine a world, where the internet, just wasn’t a thing.
Imagine a world, where nobody invented new things.

William Higginbotham. I Guarantee that nobody in this room knows his name.
He created the very first video game, Tennis for Two, in 1958.
Without him, we would not have the games we have today.
Assassin’s Creed. Grand Theft Auto. Call of Duty.
People play these games, and use the other things I’ve listed every single day,
And they use them without any thought, or appreciation for where they came from.
Or how far we have progressed as humans.

So I ask you this. Who invented the desk you are sitting on?
Who invented the jacket you’re wearing?
Who invented that pen in your pocket?
You don’t know, do you?

You've made it clear that whenever I speak to you
I can't touch you.
You've made it clear that when I try
There's no will.
So I stop with emotion that's still present.
I stop because my waste you have so named, has no sewer.
And I cant. Because I'm clogged.
My feelings have reached overcapacity and I don't entirely know where to drain.
Or if I even should have a sewage for this supposed waste.
So I lay here in floods of my pain
Not knowing if you'll merely recognize them
As I go mentally insane.
So don't tell me I'm special
Because if I was important you wouldn't let me rot
Like a half eaten Apple
You decided to pursue
Like the yoga you picked up but
Only for a short period of time
Like that thing you decided to do but not really.

Superhero heavyweights
Alter ego misfits
Scandalous fall from grace
Public pain and private parties
Golden idol ego trips
Wrath of God
Not wrath of Kahn
Read a book
Take a look around
Stop flying high
Indestructible
Too messed up to see
The damage done
Idolaters be dammed
First commandment
Godless society
Superhero wannabes
Glory and the fame
Microscopes
Expand the putrid that make-up cannot mask
Everybody’s business
Do as you say not as you do
Becomes, monkey see monkey do
Flying high without a net
Newbies falling from the sky
That is not empowerment
Luck is not strategy
And life is not a game
Find importance
Both within and without
Then dawn your cape
And fly away
To help your fellow man
Not just your selfish greed

A letter from the dog
I appreciate you taking time to read this
I'm not gonna keep you long
There's just some things I need to say now please don't take this wrong
But have you ever thought about how it feels
to have a finger shook in your face and hear "Go on!"
I'll bet the enemy was treated better by the likes of Genghis Kahn
And then it's "get over here and eat!
Or "Now go on and lay down!"
You're really gonna use me, to throw your weight around?
And what's with making me stay outside
I'm not that bad you know
Here's an idea we'll flip a coin, if it's heads I win, you go!
You brought me here to live with you
I didn't bring you to live with me
Good thing too cause I'd put your *** outside
and ask "how you like that heat?"
Man the only thing I'm guilty of
Is trying to love on you
You act like I run around here plotting some evil household coup !
I'm not here to try to run things
You're the king here that's just fine
But please king, be on about your day, do your job, let me do mine
If someone's passing by the house
Man it's my job to bark
They can't be walking all across our grass, like our yards a frickin park
That nasty attitude of yours
Makes me wonder "what in the world?"
But I know what's up and I won't say a word, truth is, you need a girl
Well buy one, try one, hire one
Hell go down and rent one chief
But do it fast, I'm begging you cause I got to have some relief
You're just so jumbled up inside
You got zip for self esteem
Talking all that BS bout "I'm livin' the dream"
The problems all inside your head
I mean that's crystal clear
Speaking of, I've got to say, I've seen better heads on a mug of beer  :~
So why just yell and point your finger
Why not kick me too
You should be ashamed picking on a dog cause your life is all askew
Another thing, I like steak too
How bout a bite for me
I'll trade you your plate for my bowl, YOU eat the pedigree
You eat that steak all by yourself
You sit there all alone
Well don't be so tight mon lean cuisine, throw the dog a bone!
I'm not sayin' the pedigree is bad
In fact it reminds me a lot of love
At least it does when it comes out, that's when it chokes me up
And would you mind not coming home so drunk
I hate you all like that
Last night you took my food bowl, and wore it for a hat!
I'm gonna leave you alone now
But I'll be down here on the floor
And I'll be waiting for you, next time I hear the door
Truth is I'll never leave you
I'll always be here cause in the end
Mine is the love you can be sure of
Sincerely
Mans best friend

...and that i own a bed.., but rather sleep on the floor... make-up an Ibiza from a Beirut... i rather **** the fathoming of a fizzle... to somehow compensate the tirade... this most unwelcome clue and loss... this gravity toward a... copper skin... and spit of biting totoises toying: limbo years... leftover... come... cushioning brief: fudge-packaged "thought"... this limbo-slant... as somewhat crude work-around... kiev a... "scheme"...

vielen dank zu gott! many thanks to god!

my greatest fear is that of homelessness...
who's to fear... to fear and "what"?

to be at home is some synoynmous
with something:
beside a being: and a home!

loitering in the quasi lane...
i'm about to travel across
europe with three rotten
teeth and i'm to suspect:
myself toying with some
variation of journalism...

       i see no end to the cold,
or war... the warm or
the shrapnel excavation
project...
when communism
was beast established
among the slavs
as your: yours one and truly...
antagonistic
warsaw pact whistling
and lobotomy...

even if i were the evil genius
of descartes...
i wouldn't be so...
fine detailed: ****...
      so... pristine... so...
otherwise... lobotomy blues...

exactly! what's scary is not
the laws being implemented...
but how... easily they are...
talk about climbing a tree...
talk about learning to ride
a bike... achieving a pass
with a bruised knee...

              a scrap: heaping...
lost teeth and... what of the jihad...
for the lost fraction of the ummah...
what of the jihad...
expected... in the chinese...

where is the ummah to be
summed to salvage...
and save the...
frolic over...
              the detail... in hair...
when hair is being shipped
away to "elsewhere"...
for ****-holes awaiting...
xinjiang... hair from...
would be... hibernating bear farts...

the jihad! the jihad!
i'm guessing the arab elites
are in on the "gimmick" with
the choke ***** men...
because... jihad only behaves
like a jihad on former
cursader territory...
south of france...
herr tao is somehow immune...

calls for being debility funny...
calls for...
bonfires of the turban of the sikhs...
orientating...
the house of gondor with
the house of rohan...

                 we'z needz 'air!
atypical confused jihadi saladin would-be...
we must all thank...
vielen dank zu gott!
                   but i still wait...
for the jihad to save the... project islam inc.
of the ummah...

sloth-riddles of the islamic project...
clearly they want to stamp on
the face of a man beaten down by...
a non-resurrected christianity...
too scared to face off with...
chinese atheism...

      *****-soldiers... where the ummah
where the... oh... wait...
the bangladeshi being paid
in "reperations" having
a chance to relieve themselves
with a game of cricket...
i'd sooner send... the locust
to abu dhabi than allow a foot
of mine to set...
on a worse idea beside the already
ailing reality of venice...

once upon a time...
was the fortune of settling on the basin
of the river...
all that oil must have shot those
arabs to the head...
the egyptians started screaming
at the camel-jockeys:
you never listened to the sand-*******...
did you?

all that black gold in one's pocket...
all that... yacht ambition...
all that and that...
all that frivolity... prized pride of
the... ahem... "ummah"...
looks like the chinese muslims are
forever and the will of the dubai classics...
fern fusions readied for...
the wigs!

       ****** readied they are...
some mongols would dear strap a horse
to their grave than excavate a hair plough
from...
eh... slaving prior to genocide...
it's like... they are... "allies"...
               it's a genocide mingling
with a joke... of slavery...
but the slaves did work that...
oh no... the germans didn't trust...
the hebrews with anything...
they performed genocide like a "failure"...
or rather a joke...
  
ask the serbs...
ask someone in rwanda...
you never perform a genocide...
by way of... imitating slavery...
by... stalling... by making people perform
menial tasks...
hello horror...
hello the sleeping ummah of islam...
to outright **** a people...
you wouldn't want them...
being teased...
a god teasing and his precursor for
having a 2000 year old wait
to establish: re- ishrael...

         the outliers of rome...
alaos pagan... converted to
the judeo-greco project of: three rotten teeth...

"toxic masculinity"... problem?
not enough of it is going around...
enough for it to be shared...
likewise...
my retreating toward...
japanese insinuation ****...
gravure idols...
   hell... absolute "toxic femininity"...
porcelain white girls...
all... lemon *******... peanuts dead...
while their... glob-trotting...
glutton sized up 66s...
   have forgotten the concept of:
insinuation ****...
foreplay...
all readied for...
extract ******* woman...
****... bred for... **** like a piston...
****** readied...
   blah "blah"...

       it doesn't translate... plain jane...
the sort of toxic you seek...
in man... revels in a deity lady madonna...
i **** myself over all second come...
blessings! blessings they calls them...
yeah... the best dates i've ever had...
concerning the "middle path"
of buddha is bound to the clarity
of a transation in a brothel...

so much for a justified jihad in xinjiang
to... save the people of the ummah...
pseudo malcom X consricpt... 0...
negation... not going to happen...
    japanese porcelein ****...
but they'll wait for the hyprocrisy...
they'll come for the arabs first...
when they finally engineer a man...
that will be better than all
the supposed doping advances of western man
allowed...
  
i'm starting to like *******
from the perspective of a japanese hard-on...
insinuation...
    i'm less the ****** and i'm more...
about to sniff a stinking dog's bowl
of processed meat of a ****'s oyster behalf...
i like that...
less *****... more hard-on...
     n'ah... i never did buy into the whole:
sorry loser ******* in amsterdam
cinema sessions...
    i liked... the tease of a tier...
more imaginative... more human...
than... a tease of a harem via a niqab...

so... no jihad come xinjiang?
should we suppose the mongols also invested
in a conversion and it wasn't the grand
imitation buddha kahn?
the wrath subsided: god was proven...
time for meditation...
    what's a jihad...
when you could entertain...
the... tsunami of the horde of...
the fall of angels.... fully-workable replica
metaphor...
what's the ****-poor islam "spread"
by comparison?
                
no real ummah then...
   unless...
that's diesel of a lamborghini burning
rubber on a tarmac in knightsbirdge
for a faking 'ard on...
    
  two days from now...
i'll be passing through germany...
        i'll be retiring 2 weeks to that land
of paradoxes that's my land of birth...
the aristocratic democracy brothel
of crown and... *******...
foreign hands foreign lands...
all the ready to retreat into their habsburg cul de sacs
of prior to: asserted powers...

no... there's just that...
"we" forgot a healthy ground for
doubt... the plethora of emotion...
the rollercoaster of it...
there's just now... the yoyo-denial cringe
lobotomy...
the best best cringe...
slav soviet communist...
Teddy! Teddy! sell 'em spleen
and iron grips!
no good Warsaw Tadeusz!
Beijin new bwest fwend!

            t-eee-sted...
                  new zealand: tee-st...
not station: tested... but...
t-eee-sted **** the rats and retards...
the philonthropes...
because...
   the noise made by bwah bwah...
  the misathrope...
it's like an accent from...
that last best reserved concept
of growing figs... otherwise a...
goof-ball and course for ralph...

now for the self-congratulatory letter
of championing the dodo project:
well thank **** for not solving this brain-drain
spaghetti puzzle and not exactly buying into
the d.n.a. project ugly pass...
with all that..... bewildering...
"consciousness" debate...
michael myers' "consciousness" debate...
one... 'em... those sudoku nuggets
of... "sober"?!

best resolved...
i drink alcohol to keep calm...
after i forgot to... take my ****** pills...
my... i came late to the party...
21 was illegal to smoke marijuana...
amitriptyline... 25mg...
how many times do i think
about a slaughterhouse?
i think of all the boys with:
chemical soup for brains aged
16 and under...
i was lucky...
they only got to me aged 21...
i was still allowed to retain
a labyrinth of wording(s) to shelter my anger with...
surprise? what surprise?

toxic masculinity = not enough james bonds
running amok for...
oh... weight... *****-whipping...
there's all that... i forgot what...
period drama this was all about...

drink drink drink...
i'll sooner kick my liver dead than...
allow society to sober my half-wit frankenstein
brain of theirs...
    i'll die with:
i don't scare myself with drowning...
i don't scare myself with falling...
flat into a pancake...
i shouldn't be afraid of homelessness...
but i am because...
this avenue of the freely available stars...
and those... made rebel...
that will answer to me...

                  the butterfly... waiting...
for the most pristine... prized... first...
insecurity of... h'america about to be exported...
and it's a... oh my! a zephyr...
tornado... one of those: flush 'em...
when you 'ave 'em...
sort of... scenarios...

hegel: improtune... the will of the thinking man...
thought is a butterfly...
it's hardly... a well-knitted-marx-beard-and-sweater
of consolidations...
  
honest to the god i don't believe in...
i'd shadow **** that crucifix if it
had a japanese gravure model hanging on it...
******* as insinuation...
they did catch me...
libido pressed...
aged 21...
they would have got to me aged 16 and prior...
with ****** and former brain:
the chemical soup...

          i want to smash **** up... then i remind
myself: wait... and giggle...
   the extract... mikhail popkov...
                 albert fish... fan boy for every:
groupie of history...
            is that... like... a somewhat missing:
oops?
        CHRISTINE CHUBBUCK...
               INCEL...
       wouldn't it be... just.. oh so strange...
to... drag a man into a prison cell...
and shoot them... obviously retaining leaving
them there to rot...
   andrei chikatilo...
                              the urban myth of cockroaches
being subjected to the guillotine...

sure... whizz vite boyz aged...
napoleon dynamite... jeffrey dahmer...
      16 is the right time to call brainz...
chem. soup...
bubbly...
me comez 21... me's perfecto...
   me no cain signature idiot primo...
                 i like me horror story...
i get to play the... plot line of
the anaesthetic...
                      
who is to be surprised by: who's who...
of anyone's who of...
the currency of... this... surf...
lost... a "somehow"...
a "somewhat"...
oh... this is... for... today?
                                this has to be...
the advent of the pontius pilate metaphor...
no... not me...
dies ist alles sie:
   scheiße!     es ist mich?
              verwesendtrauben....

kommen, sehen... der welt...
                           verstopfungselbst.

Age
Is a wall
Tagged with anvils
Wishing to fall
But hanging in gravity

Fighting naked
She scratched anyone
Who got in her view
But the old guy named blue
Took her by the arm
Flying her to her rightful home

Trying harder these days
Never felt
So difficult
At times I wonder
Out loud or in silence
If I should have joined
A ******* cult
Maybe then
And only then
I'd make sense
Within the confines
Of designed order

Competition
Can be wicked
If the competitors
Sincerely care and desire
For the red ribbon
At the end of the concrete road

Forgetting daily
That you are in love
Is a bad thing to say
At the end of a night
Or at the start of the day

Prohibition never lasted
For America
And all of its glory
Is a Promised Land
As long as you pay with dollars
And are filled with
A mind full of sand

Tomorrow
If I awaken to a morn'
Old Knox's Gold will shine
Worn tough by the filthy rich

And in two days
A reader won't finish these lines
As my life diminishes while kicking
With steel tipped taps

To be young
To be old
Never made a matter
For the fun we had when we were children
Now seems like ancient memories

Whether staring into the soul of the sun
Or being held captive by Ghengis Kahn's son
If your lover happens to be holding the gun
Your done

~
Who can circumnavigate Avalon's depository and the palpable swoop down toward earthier terrain?

Yet, here I am.

Where is your gravity taking me, Kahn?

This building is an invitation, and I am humbled in this sense of arrival. The books are stored away from the light. So a man with a book goes to the light, the serenity of light.

And therein lies the hidden meaning.

But you won't let it become just a building; you want it to remain much a ruin; it's all somehow sinister in its celebration.

Occasional distraction is as important in reading as concentration.

And I'm reading between the lines in a corner carrel, looking out at academic crop circles; I grapple with each texture: it's this combination of imposing austerity and weathered familiarity that you seize upon to make your current landscape hospitable.

This building is an instrument, creates a sound in my head akin to music; and this music remains a glowing source of solitude, all driven by a desire to be hidden but sought after—a celebration of all things lost and unnamed.

Here I find closure by opening a book.
~

So wake up and what do we find,
the men in black, oh, aren't they back!
Didnt they blow up them planes
or helped those who did
or those who helped those who did?
or so we heard, why the gringos went
to smoke them out of their vents?
The men in black, oh now so cool -
we share hugs and name our friends!
Women, they won't be flogged in fields,
nor will they chop off erring arms,
nor them planes land in k-har
in exchange for killers barred,
no buddhas left to smash,
or so they say, but for what their books say+:
so the women, just tented,
working from wherever caged,
men must never trim their manes
even the cricketers have turned out to play,
though be just the men eh!
Beware if you are a poet though,
or sing, or a singh - coz nobody sure
if you will be lynched yet;
Half the country is staying shut,
half a million may run (or so says the UN)
But they surely come in peace
armed as they go on our humvees;
Mothers throw their babies over,
what a liberation! perfect sense
to the kahn across the Durand fence;
And no we here across the Jhelum
so busy with the mayhem
that anderson's caused to our playmen;
Oh the reformed men in spotless black
they're back across the pens,
and we can now go back to sleep
with not a ***** in our conscience

+or as they say they say -
they all say how they say
is what the books say anyway

Polly is my favorite horse
She's tall and lean and dapple
She comes to me for food, of course,
and always wants an apple.

She carries me to Avalon
upon her back I'm Kubla Kahn

We're spirits of favonian

I'm Lancelot

She's Lippizan

Are Professions the opposite of
Confessions? My shrink said perhaps we can deal with this in other sessions.

What is a fession?
I think this a good
Question.

Is it better to be *******
Than it is to be ****** on?

Is it pronounced *** can,
Or as I like to say puh kahn?


After all, I thought a *** can was
Something you would assign
Everyone on a long trip to make
Better time.


Wouldn't it be cool if dinosaurs
Were mammals and had fits
Over which had the tiniest
Arms, but yet had the biggest
                          ****?

T-Rex. Yes, definitely T-Rex.
She would have won contests.


But no, they had none. And Mr. T-
Rex was so ******. Not for this, but
Because he couldn't reach his gun;
U know what I mean, his appendage.

Why do we drive in "parking" lots?
Why do we call them buildings still?
They are built. Alone in my thoughts?
Why do we "park" in driveways? Fill

                                    In
                    ­              Your
                               Answers
                                      If
                ­                      U
                                   Will.

Did Kahn and Cerf realize, in those early days of tcp/ip,
the Promethean gift that they had stolen from the gods
and bestowed on humanity?
And do you remember the phlogistic spread of the World Wide Web,
and the first time you tasted omniscience
with the obnoxious melody of a dial up modem?

when Bobby Messiah
the new kid next door
asked if I wanted to see his
Silly Putty **** collection
I know we were on the same page
It was hidden in an old transistor radio
of red plastic with a silver speaker grid
in the shape of a human foot
marred and curling on one corner
where something had pierced a hole in it
a suicide bullet from his ex-mom
Bobby said and I believed him
because Bobby was a natural born Fuhrer
an up and coming 10 year old Genghis Kahn
so opinionated he didn't even know
where his opinions came from
and I was a 9 year old breast feeder
I would have ridden the axle of a 20 wheeler
across the state line if he said it would
prove I wasn't a mud ******* mama's boy
it appeared to me a better bargain
to be anything rather than nothing.
I still hold the line on this position
even though I write from prison
with a new range of ****** expressions
thanks to Bobby's sense of impropriety
and a pocket full of matches
and the result of legal malpractice
by my perfume counter mouthpiece
not finding the magic combo
told me I kept looking around too much
to be taken for an empty seat
wore a noose around my neck tendons
more times than a fish has scales
trying a little harder to separate
what is inside from what is outside
shuffling the index cards over and over
I will describe it further
this planet is an IQ test
the contained has changed
the shape of the container
it may be a 49-51 kind of world kid
but not everyone will clap and sing along
and as long as them brittle
mystic devil fire pickpockets
think they have their lips on the tuba
the free angels will sleep
with a gun in their shorts
for system redundancy's sake

From "Pageant of Naked Mischief" available on Amazon