Saturday, September 27, 2008

Bobs and Weaves

pumas in trees
bolts jolt colts
dinyos lick katrinyos
kakkas pun peppers
lemons vent vultures
drapes dunk mutumbos
grapes tip tutumbos
cocos crisp Da be bops
Bonk smush moochies
coochie woochie wiggle
me timber tumble

Thursday, September 25, 2008

Fish Tacos
Fish tacos
fish tacos
tacos make with fish
tacos of fish
fishy tacos
fishy wishy tacos
fishermen make record amount of tacos
delicious tacos

Gloppy McGloppenspiel


and the lark squawk has passed out of season
out of color
your petrified ambush
whelmed my words
grey in pastoral hands
consents the crack/ed cage

slutty sun in your theoretical rhetoric
casually slickening
river wack/ed a damn fools dissonance
intaglio glowered from

pregnant wi/the chemicals
for a lack
for the other
for Lacan en nosotros
please keep watch over my wine pot
wd nt gess tht
Burn the witch!
they shouted but
she was already gone
lucifer, beatrice
and dick cheney have arrived
at the potluck
late because
molten steel sister stew does
cool faster
take these respirators
americans (made
in china)
deepest apologies on
behalf of joan for
thermite dust
lung disease
she has been
terminated (7 and enron's
accountant's library
and her
associates are under
with ellison's eye and
molten steel sister
like you all
something new
buying what
we're selling
so let's go underground
to find them overseas
after we eat
let's prey for
preserved freedom
let it ring
let it ring
a mongolian war gong

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

bush push boner pull

i look like you wanna look barbara
bush boner wipe my mommy poopy
bottom i fuck like you wanna fuck
bush boner bush boner push push
push bash boner bush boner wipe
my tush i am free in all the ways
you are not free in all the ways
i am free always i am free bush
boner desert jungle mommy
my diaper is a jungle of smell
my meal is a lead salad fuck
like you wanna fuck bagel bush
boner push a fart not a disease
of the third world look make
the third world look like you
wanna look fuck like you wanna
free speech fuck in slutclothes
following another night on the drunk
begets inelegance bush boner bash
boner push all ways you wish
you could be free foreign means
here comes everybody’s xenophobia
but to be like me push tush i fuck
like you wanna fuck like i like you
your thursday slutclothes bush
boner push bash touch like you wanna
love torpor in the ways oh how
i am free and you are not white
collared bush boner earrings, rings
for bellies, rings for toes, ringtones
mean i make you not free i call
you when i wanna fuck bush
boner bush boner push push slaves
in all the ways you are not looking
like you wanna look push tush
in fitted jeans a little tight in the crotch
mommy boners on in to the fitting
room and bush boner grabs to check
thursday night slutclothes fit rite
how i wanna thursday night woman
forget it i wanna fuck look bush boner
push bash tactical insertion bush boner
the desert in its want of moistures
please thursday brings rains four straight
i wanna look and godhead i wanna gadfly
you until your godhead shambles and looks
as i want it to look your women who i plow
through until i explode them thursday
women grapes in a soft light in my mouth
bush boner palm fronds car bombs
in midair gave proof i look like you wanna
look i fuck like you wanna fuck love
i believe like you wanna believe i inhabit
a dreamscape a space temporarily setting
up a long-term-relationship base upon
which i burst bush boner a grape bash
past againt my palate fine carats of a third
world vintage system against freedom
i am free to say any free more free
and you are not bush boner push pull
trend kill i push east the slutclothed
fashionistas of the west i love like you
wanna love i nimbly undercut bush
boner the maxims of your prophets
via push pull decontextualizing
the maxims of my prophets mommy
mommy my tush dirties itself you
wanna help me wanna maximum
profits swipe swipe your dirty
mommy money like you wanna dirty
money push push i campaign
for your faith bush boner bush i rocket
raid and potty in all the ways you
cathetered and colostomied bomb
freaks cannot i keep a harem bush
boner bash push because you cannot
i scrum like you wanna scrum of a barred
thrusday beerdrunk i punch bush
boner and fuck bush boner like you
wanna punch any woman in slutclothes
push pull subdue do you wanna fuck
like i wanna fuck push boner i have bombs
to offer i bomb like you wanna bomb
not an end-all desperate bomb but
a bush boner bunker buster to bustup
this dustup and upthrust your tunnels
in and out of makeups and slutclothes
tan year round like you wanna desert
tan my bum my bumpish boner by firebush
i say i can offer the words of the godhead
and the power to have a look i look
like you wanna look and the power
to have a fuck i fuck like you wanna fuck
because i am free in all the ways
you are not boner bush boner bush
pullpush pullpush wish pulpit wish
you could offer proof and by fire
i have firebrand status i can offer ramparts
in aid of minarets if you would only
forswear to buying bush boner shit
you do not need with money you do
not have bombs bursting in clean air
free from a diaper’s fart salad and lead
window it’s okay you can fuck and look
in the mirror of your thursday night
slutclothes strewn about the bush boner
fuck carpet i still pay for i live
as inelegantly as possibly now you wanna
live if only bush boner pull bush
you swear what wasis has been or emerges
pushpull forbear forswear that you
are free in all the ways always that i
am not and be free as you pushpull
i am not push pushing forswear
boner on layaway ready thirty six
hours barbara forswear this diaper
of firebrand and gadfly this diadem
of freedoms bush boner bush boner
i look like you wanna look is worth
fucking i fuck like you wanna defend
fucking i forswear in air pushpull you wanna


Sapphire roses glitter the streets
swimming to get out of the Sun's glare

light passing through
resonating pain while
Roundabout shades of red and blue
trickle through
to the scenery of time

an essence entranced
by the sting of the sublime

gazing into lost
staring through a breath
Never finding truth and beauty

from the simplicity of complexity
a sapphire rose emerges


A world forced to swallow so
Causes the people to Start splitting
at the seams
human stuffing pours onto the street Corners
as the innocent rebel
in a cloud of Tar

A man and a woman
are cast to the ground
from a stone thrown above
landing in stuffing
they bounce back
to crave
the inconsistency of a STone
as soft as a ice
as hard as a cloud

brain-Mace blocks the pain
behold clarity
in the Name of the SKY
black rain doesn't fall on
the street Corners

The shit has to Come out
and why get it wet?

Zombie Jesus

Nothing is what it seems
Perhaps all of this is only a dream
a 'Matrix' reality for each of us

Well, I take the lil blue pill
and fling myself down the dark
rabbit hole

Into dimensions that even
Dali has never heard of
Forget la Resistencia and
floating clocks

Melting time on a dime
I watch it all float by
A Navy sailor would be jealous

Of how deep I can go
into you
around you
within you

I am the 'end all and be all'
I am
Zombie Jesus

Saga of the Flat Tire

oh my car b- I am in epeoria after
my car blue a flat and my spair
didn't work either- i was
noivous- and swerved ont a curb on
e washington in epeoria-
wasn't paing attention and wammo
guess I was worried about
the presentation for cbreu tonight
thus I am going to miss it
this all happened around 3 PM
and I finally gave up on
the spare around 440-
so I am sitting on the side of
the road waiting on the toe truck
hahaha- how life is funny-
but a poem came out of it- just hope
I don't fuck up my grade in cbreu's class
I have a hard enough time getting b's
I have to take a shit- what is funny is
J is in pain David Foster Wallace
hung himsef and here I am torturing
my students with quizzes when I hardly
know what the fuck I'm doing--

Hurricane Ike fucked Galveston's
Shit up- life is a nice long proctological exam- such is life.- But
overall things are good- even if I
schrew up big time- I really can't
complain- I mean- I am just
experiencing everything- and say- if
I did join the army- wouldn't that
be good experience for my art?
Sure- I'd probably lose my humanity
but isn't humanity overrated?
So what I must do now is breathe
and allow nothingness to take its
course- sometimes life shits on you
but this isn't a dump truck-
just a little bird dropping-
one can always handle that.
One must always be peed off
one must always be grateful
astounded at the trees
furious through all the follies
we are in pain
and then we die

but at least there are trees
and tires on the road
and shit that we encounter
and bad language there is
pain= be grateful for the pain
for it is experience- feeling
and you are not inanimate
wave at the middle fingers that
fly by you- if you want
to make god laugh tell him
to fuck off a hawk
circles above me in epeoria
then disappears through the trees
u know bigass trees
my nordstroms are now dirty
covered with debris
rocks and pebbles and dust and shit
and I am wowed by it
I should be happy
I have to take a shit
Should I sing aloud
howl at the cars that
zoom by me
what is my rhetorical situation?

there is a carwash nearby
and a watertower
and I have to pee
and I cannot leave my
green hornet now
I am stuck here
such is life

there a weeping willow
it cries for me
andy poor poor andy
it says fuck you
stupid human- you
shoulda been a tree
ha ha
I can't argue with that-
we should all be trees
a sparrow a finch
a satellite dish
the clouds roll by
we are all drifters
in the cosmos
a turd awaits my commode

opus is an anagram of soup
boy I could go for some soup
would stanley fish share a
bowl with me?
I like chicken and rice by
campbells because it is made
of all 2000 elements in the
periodic table
thesis antithesis synthesis Rock.
We all win-
the cloud is a giant turd-
a locust just fell from the sky
on the side of the road and died
it had a good life
lived long and prospered
was giving-
never shat on me
in public
ah bugs
I sit here
holding in pee and
awaiting mr toe truck
to come rescue me
from my ivory tower
of academia 547
it's a wonder I don't hear
rage against the machine on hold-
it's all my fault- I should have
driven on 150- or ate something
at icc- I was nervous about a fucking
presentation- WTF! oh well-
I guess I 'm always teetering on the
edge to some extent- my problem here
is I don't have much leg room-
that is do I have room to be ill
to have car trouble- No!-
one thing goes wrong and it's like
everything is fucked-
but at least i'm not in Iraq
or Afghanistan-
bullets aren't showering down on
me- I am just here- a peon
in academia- a professional bum
writing papers- going to therapy
writing crap called poetry
grading papers supposedly
pretending I understand
what I'm reading
pretending I am smart
when actually I drool
pick my nose and think
of womens' buttcheeks
I am really a gorilla
an anemic one
-rather hairless
just a biped
crawling through Earth

Nobody really loves
the Sun will devour
us in 5 billion years
so don't feel bad
for me-
you won't be around
then either
we are all just wisps
of excreted air floating
btw-I feel better now
that I have urinated
and the toe truck guy called me
he says he'' be here shortly
there is love in the universe

I am at the epeoria chiropractic
clinic parking lot 1605 e washington
it's now 7PM it has been
nearly 4 hours since my disaster
I wonder if all the Ash trees
will disappear-
I still have to shit-
we all have to
I am at home now
I am safe
all is well
I still have to go
Be my laxative

let the world

Tuesday, September 23, 2008


Awkward space
in girth hush
with stories
of religious
on signs
and the gap
rethinks his
in a body lock
of banal despot
voiced decay,
ovarian cysts
of octagon splits
or pebbles
for you
to choke on

Monday, September 22, 2008


lets put a tragic end to doublespeak
our lips reverse what
minds disperse
myriads of automation
we selfishly
being beings of belligerence
bathe in
piss-poor pretension
rinsed in violent hypocrisies'
most harrowing disease
cured only
through complete elimination of
verbose transparency

Saturday, September 20, 2008

can't get much stronger

wake up
to get up
i ask
got to go to space tomarrow
what are you doing??
get your shit together
hop up to get up
and get my shit together
your the next Jeff Armstrong
not moving
Legs go go gadget legs
holy buzz lightyear i'm up!!
moonwalking to the fridge
eating some wheaties in a bowl
smoking some maj in a bowl
i can't drive a spaceship high

Friday, September 19, 2008

Black. White, Blue, Red, Green

Black feared White
they fit so well together
One's emptiness
filled by the other's wholeness
complete balance
yin and yang

White never made public address
discussing or mentioning
knowledge or acceptance
of this model or its complement
White never hesitated to confide
true feelings to true friends
Black and White both knew
they were not opposites
The complete lack of themselves

Black to not-Black
White to not-White

So many other colors
not worth mentioning
failed in this endeavor before
there was a catch
to Black and White...

Red and Green
their act together
many years before
struck it big in the
holiday market
after several years of making
the burlesque circuit
An outward change of values
led to an audition with
French Talent Artist
Poly Crom-'Atic
were questionable past events
publicly revealed
Red and Green suffered
their own personal torment
mental anguish

White tormented Blue
The perfect blend
A Brazilian Coffee
White capped Blue
in high wind

Great waves of Angry Blue
Antagonizing White chased
high into the air

The feeling of time right
Push Pull Drag
a beating by a watery fist

shattered white
was not taken light
glass on mirrored fists

Blue rejoiced
if only for a moment brief

Shattered and Broken
Persistent White to reform
Blue further angered
unappreciative of the lesson
the ways of White
foam and froth
a great show of anger
millenia of experience
curricula in antagonization

The Ever-Sensitive Blue.
The Not-To-Be Beaten White.

Thursday, September 18, 2008

your actions
your bracebreakin miscontented
your lightening
sundistance days
i do not want to bury
bless/ed branch reaches
roots of suffered
suffercating soil
your gumpshun slivered
danced at bow
in my diligent sun

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Stop us
Dancing to
Yesterday’s song
It is already
24 hours from now
Never happened
Now is today
Either going
In circles or
At all
This is where
We are
Frozen in history—
Stoic statues
Circling stopping not dancing
She is dancing yesterday
She was dancing tomorrow
Calendars hanging
Behind bathroom mirrors—
Medicine cabinet
Behind bathroom mirrors
This is where we are
No compass
No map
No wrist watch
Yesterday today tomorrow diluted
Alka-seltzer stirred and swallowed
This is where we are
I know
Where we are because she
Why are we here?
Because this is where
We are
I am going and you
Are following
I went here and you
We spun
In circles until
Tomorrow I
And circling was
Yesterday’s game
Dancing is today

We are in
Tomorrow’s medicine cabinet
Spinning lids on
Pill bottles
Until we are one
Frozen in now’s
Into yesterday
For rhythm
We once danced to
Rhythmic chaos—
Stop us
Dancing when
We should be
At least we’re moving
Yesterday’s cadence
Has us out of step with
Our feet firmly rooted
In nothing—
Stop dancing
with me (Astyn)
how can I dance
with someone when we
cannot move?
Here we are
Statues standing
Not dancing
In a
chaotically calculated
we cannot answer why
cannot answer why
follow formulas
find out
not find out
follow maps of
they lead
they lead
moving in
chaotically calculated
Do not follow
Hearing her
Wheels churning
Seeing her back and
Legs revolving
A center
Her feet—
Satellites drifting
Not a path but
A part of one
Searching for
A star
To circle
Her nowhere
Because it is hers—
Not mine
Wondering why
Being there
Has her torn small
Pieces of her
Blue print
Wondering why
Am here
Are maps leading us
To find
A strong surface
To dance

A version of Catullus 101

Carried over peoples and swells
i arrive, other, at your end rites
bearing what i know as sorrow
to gift to you, pyrrhic now, enashened.
Since wheels and whim spun your body
under for their lechery, alas, other, besnatched
by odd meters and ritual sayings ancestral,
i yield tribute in tears, cries and inquiry,
allowed by the fraternity of space-time

to say my first hello as last farewell enacted.

Fuzzy Screen Chocolate Dreams

I sit staring blankly at
a dark, movie screen
I recall images imprinted on its cells
like memories of a not so distant past

After I spend the entire day staring at it
I see his face on the screen
Those chocolate eyes burrow into mine
I am entranced

'Savvy?' Oh, Johnny Depp.
You are the pirate of my heart
My dreams, my pants
One night with you would be better
than swimming naked in a pool of
dark chocolate
Chocolate can't break your heart
But you can, Johnny, you can.

I hate Kiera Knightley for her perfect skin
and kiss
I can kiss you too Johnny, just you wait.
No fuzzy ants racing will stop me...

1...2...3... GO! I run, full speed into
the movie screen
and split my head open as I crash
into the other side
As I lay there, slowly dying, I can't
help but wonder
was it worth it all for a kiss?

Yes, death is worth a kiss. :-*
In the last dying words of,
Mrs. Depp.

a theory of logic and reason

intimacy holds broken bits
in skin
you see,
gaping intentional distance
electric ecstasy deeply
puncturing sweet senselessness

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Dependent Sue

Skinny young prickly man
dies without kidney
who sleeps now
in a dumpster
rats chewing on him
like a chumpster
where oh where has my lump gone?
lump cuts yard
yard too tall
Not likely of lump
This place is a dump without lump
No toilet paper without lump
I take no dump without lump
Full of turds is my rump
Ring ring goes the teleophono
Lump is dead oh no no no no
Who plays me in guess who?
Who does my hair with shampoo?
Who cleans the tub of residue?
Who paints the house blue?
Who calls me my dear sue?
Lump is gone. Lump has fallen away.
No longer sit on my hands, says sue.


The open ended summer
wheat pales flat in 
a farce of self destruct
but my fingers smell
like embarrassment and and the stains
nihilseismic elasticity.
Your life is over.
I fall back until
wind crunch leads to
free form woodgrain
stucco when I know
I am doing
what is right?
Socrates, I will fuck 
you until your wisdom flakes off
chafed from yours to mine 
and I am at ease to smoke until I die.

sometimes life
shits on you
all you can do is take it
the bills, the sickness
the flat busted tires
the low grades
the joblessness
dumpings rejections
cheating etcetera
and at some point
you realize self pity
is just an ingredient
there is more to our plight
than you can imagine
eternal magma awaits
and death is no cure
even jesus doesn't escape
so if I'm wrong
and there is no hell
then what are
we crying about
for it's not that bad
so take your
with a smile
the blisters on your skin
are bubbles of joy bursting
forth- the sting of your sores
are labor pangs as you give
birth to a new paradigm
we suffer
we whine

we bellyache
we make

there is nothing complex
you too
are worthy
of eternal

embrace laughter
for that is
the only salvation
a fragment of love's
momentary brilliance

Miss Illusioned

she’s Miss Taken
but that won’t stop her
from sending sons starving
and making them get
on their knees
all day, daily

she’s Miss Understood
but they all know what
it is
she means
when she locks the door
to her solitary bedroom
and swallows the key

she’s Miss Staken
they all take their place in
a stretching queue for her hands
but she never told no one
to get in line

she’s Missed
even when she’s in the room
they want more of her than
they can ever win
she’s not theirs

and they’ll never know
the girl
that lies
behind words
and on their
springy mattresses

Friday, September 12, 2008

Food for Thought

I digress from the usual work posted here.  The fruit is of a similar taste though: The Heel Press, DeviantArt.  The Hell Press boasts a rather impressive roster of members, at least in terms of the work that they produce.  The community critique is also very academic in nature-only fellow members are allowed to contribute critique your work and they give you three different scores focusing on three different elements of your work (non-members can also comment, though).  These scores are combined into a composite score which if high enough allows your work to compete against others for the chance to appear on the front page of the website for a week.  The critiques are generally quite thorough and insightful: no one berates you for your errors but the opinions can be rather forthright.  You can also choose how long your work is up for critique.
DeviantArt is less formal and the critique reflects this; i have unfortunately found that most people will comment on your work with insightful comments like "great stuff," "I really like your work," or "you suck."  Additionally, you can not choose the length of time that your work is available for review-it is either public or it's not.  Additionally, there is no "front page" competition.  In its stead, however, are numerous and more eclectic competitions that are either associated with DeviantArt or are held by outside groups and communities and then advertised through the site.  Both sites have their own flavor and I suggest giving them at least equal consideration.  Enjoy.

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

why are we here?

we are here:never


we are nowhere
but here:never


we are going here
going there
going nowhere
going to be nowhere:here


going to be nowhere
but here

why are we here:never?

why are we going there:nowhere?

we will never get there:nowhere



is here
and there





Slot clots clog
the army cots underneath
an elevator shaft
access door If a man
without thumbs or hippocampus were
to enter through
number punched print
scuzz the iron basted
tilt-a-wheel scowl in oratory
exile for to break
one's own rules is one thing but
to break
the rules one
breaks rules
not to break
is a sin only our 
evolution can atone for
Today little girls lay
laxative slothed on stone
carving troughs to drink
the blood or 
bowels of leaky diets

The yerba mate's stainless
straw claws through 
its own perferations and holes 
imperfect eyes of fingertips 
waltzing up your metal spine
or would you watch
as I bit the thumb off
another messiah while circumstance and
death presupposed
the gapskinned soothsayer's
a softened pot boil over.

Poetics of Power pt. 1

To Err Divine
Pushed backward onto the table
knowing that liberation can only come
when we are forcefully pulled off the table
as we kiss the lips of power with passion
and are thrown to the ground
to be ravaged
clothes torn
hands pinned
eagerly awaiting
the next command
the next demand
will we be rewarded and fucked until it hurts
will we be punished and beaten until ecstasy

yes Master
Turn around.
…yes Master…yes
Hands behind your head.
…yes Master …yes Master…yes
Now you will kneel to the ground very slowly.
…yes Master …yes Master …yes Master…yes Master
Lay flat on the ground and do not move unless you are told.
…yes Master …yes Master …yes Master …yes Master…yes Master…yes
If you lay completely still you will be rewarded. If you move you will be punished.

two choices: Love or Liberation
Love – a revolutionary virtue
Liberation – eudaimonia

Stand up. Keep your head down. Look me in the eyes and you will be punished.
…yes Master …yes Master …yes Master …yes Master…yes Master…yes
You will only speak when you are told to speak. Do you understand?
…yes Master …yes Master …yes Master…yes Master
Would you like to be beaten right now?
…yes Master …yes Master…yes
Would you like to be fucked?
…yes Master…yes
On the ground.

To Err Divine

culture creates a color

as blue as the bark of a tree

as black as the bark of knowledge

as profound as a question

as erred as divinity itself

If I Were A Glass of Wine

I would be red
Deep, ruby, dripping
wet, blood, red

Filled of love, passion, hate
subtle sadness
and a hint of sarcasm

You would drink me in slow:
deliberate thrusts of your tongue
as it touches the iron cold glass
prison that traps me

I will slide into the back
of your throat with a sensuous
I am not your communion wine
I am something else entirely
And I am warm as I slide into your belly
Where I will stay dancing, waiting,
until you take another

Dear Deer Tick

When you were but an illustration
on the glossed plastic paper
underneath scratched sand glass,
you could have been any medusa head
slithering smiling suction, pea cot, succubus
in the forest that claims dune eyes.

Deer tick, you were there during blueberry butter
on red tuna canvas, aluminum fires churning
paint label fumes back at moss spheres,
demon woman cries in weeping wolf howls
while manbot brands his own tick ways,
implanting moon smiles.

For jaw flesh wounds crimsoned
mosquito nests on love tits, naked awakening
next to glowing still flame crickets,
but only you entering and latching on to
sliver pink surface that swallows then spits
but rarely releases, in there & here, together.

dread nothingness carved in stone

I dread now your touch and the smile rough just before you go silently and i nod my head whispering softly no your hand that frightens makes me flinch and the smile that doesn't warm me anymore to the core i dread you now your anger quicker than laughter that we knew i dread you dread now the sight of all that I no longer see in you fraying magic forces me to speak when once silence was enough now you are after rough
you ass happy just before you go and silently you carve me in stone with your lazy finger sculpting me etching the icy nooks you once made soft and warm you carve me in stone now with the plastic you torch of your passion to chill too quick too week as your lukewarm no more burns we both know which secretly burning love of your powers with the flowers giving birth bearing leaves to bark my wood turned before differently you carved me marble flinching sparks at my shooting tinfoil fraying magic a man touched me today and covered me with nothing a man i used to love the one i cared about so much but this time as he touched me with his nothingness there was only shock to realize how far i'd left him behind I now fear your rough contact and usmeshka right before leaving and I molchkom notch the head n' your share is not very soft shepcha which makes me fear and flinch usmeshku that doesn ' T hot, I more in heart, I fear that you are now your anger more quickly than hohot of which we knew than j' were afraid which you fear Oculus maintaining all that I n' do not have more d' a length sees in you, I iznashivayusch magic efforts to speak when silence as soon as you had now rather brutal after l' Ishak satisfies you right before your departure and you molchkom vysekaete me in the stone, with your lazy finger wah me engraved ledistye recesses you once have tenderness and heat you carved in hones maintaining me of you of plastic torch your passions to too quickly cool too your week hardly hot, more burns, we are both knew who furtively sorrow d' love your forces of the sheets carrying of the flowers to give rise to my zalayat wood turned before various manners vysekli marble flinching me on my tinfoil sparks shooting iznashivaya Magic Man touched to me aujourd' today and gives me with any man, j' had l' practice of at a love I troubling you about so much but this time it m' touched with its nothing n' was to proceed to blow in measurement I” D it left some

"dance marathon"

worldfull of beautiful or just an eye

wired to see it or am i more beautiful?

for my father beauty equals completeness

or having things on hand: containers

of screws all shapes all sizes all singing

to connect. my father dances to words of old

on-file computer magazines which mean

the history of technological evolution:

Wired, InfoWorld ’87 to the end or end

of subscription. pin them down then limbs

under UV make bullion spring from denim

and a-walk through the end of summer

or more abstract grass peppered w/ aluminum

as plastic biodegrades leads to daddy’s frugality

or savings restructuring old tools and plans

to build with the shavings leftover

and unswept. solder to this Depression lessons

in love to carry forward not me into modal

completion every wrinkle every word every

believe it enough to know better from some

or other pulpit look look still every word

look look foul every crest of data

with an enchaosed line, a second opinion.

desire constricts the Depression flavor her boullion

what to buy what to buy what to buy

summer covers winter shorts short circuit

into a metataste a taste of everything a black

taste in which flavors reunite the end of a dance

marathon. i dance as if to mean as well

i dance as if to mean i dance as if i dance

dance “I.” i dance well. i dance until i ache

to mean to mean i dance to mean well. i dance but not

to hurt as well. i dance well. i dance mean. i mean as well.

i mean. i, as dance, mean well. i, as mean, dance

well. i, as if, too. if to mean a swell i dance. i dance

to swell. i dance “as if” to mean “as well,” as well

as dance. i dance meanly. i mean meanly. i mean

i would mean dancely, if i could. i mean to dance

with ardency in the Ardennes. i dance with Edith

as well. i swell with Edith., her thoughts dance

as if i mean well. poor Edith. i dance a meal

to mean something to Edith as well. if she

remembers. Edith thinks. Edith thinks “well

he means well” as if a swell in her thinking

means she will dance as well. i can see the dance

of her forward thinking. i mean i can dance

her into thinking forward with me dancing.

it will mean something. she will dance. i will

swell. Edith dances well. i mean to dance

Edith to mean as if i mean well. i mean Edith

is swell, as if she means more than any tiny dancer

or any dancing meaner in any heaven-hell.

as if as Edith dances her sweater dances

as well as sweat fills her with a chill, which

means if i can dance in then, i will. any

Edith can sweat but not mean for me as well.

i dance in. i dance in a vest as if i mean

the chaps beneath my suitcoat. i dance

not wearing a suitcoat into my forward

thinking will, as if a signal to Edith. she dances

and sings to herself and i dance it to mean

she is happy. as i dance, i mean. i dance

meaning into the air. i dance what i mean

when Edith leans over late-evening for a kiss

as well. i dance the kiss and it means for me

as well as Edith. i dance as if to means as well.

i dance Edith into evening into morning.

i dance what i want into we. Edith dances

her thinking into believe. by next week

i dance with any Jenny. any Jenny dances

well, at least as well as Edith or any other.

i dance new allegiances, making sure the meaning

of my dancing means as well. any Jenny

dances risquely as if to mean sexing. i dance

as if sexing any Jenny. any Jenny does not

need me to dance as if i mean well. in fact,

i dance without dancing my meaning. in this

dance the meaning is clear and not lacking.

any Jenny swells as we dance her reddens

mean any Jenny sexes well. any Jenny dances

mixing together her reds. i mean in forgetting.

i mean it dances out evening into morning

again as before as well. any Jenny dances

into morning as if to bed me as well i mean.

i dance waking any Jenny by way of alarm

bell. we dance bells to mean parting church

bells knell bells day bells a bell collection

bells for all seasons mean ringing as if to ring

clarifies a meaning or re-dances a meaning

to me or any Jenny. a bell dances a cherubim

or seraphim into any Jenny’s way of dancing

her meaning for me. as if the angels attend

to us in the frequency of bells means our dance

of sexing is blessed. any Jenny heaves a sigh

that dances through the morning of her leaving

midday and evening as well, leaves my heart

with a swell as if her absence means a dirge

plays in which i dance myself to mean sorrow.

i mean to dance her absence well. i mean

to dance in between Ediths and Jennys as if

a transparent but separate and purposeful

dance characterizes our complicated interplays.

i dance meanly inside as Edith returns, as if

the stars mean to align for me and my swells.

she dances a kiss as well as sexes. i dance

sexes with Edith to mean loves as if i dance

sexes with any Jenny. i feel Edith’s dancing

heart as she swell as if a love overcomes her.

i dance Edith to mean any Jenny as well

hold both as if in love in mind as well. i dance

Edith’s foreign awkward smiles to mean

love as she sings in her comfort with what i

mean. her crooked teeth as yellow as hell

as she smilesings and my heart dances as her

tongue traces races over her craggy teeth

to make the words of the song i can hardly

tell what they mean i get so enraptured by

the dance of the words themselves and the

foreignness. my any Edith kisses my tongue

between the meaningless words which dance

into an effability only love knows how to dance

to mean something other than its meaning.

any Jenny has flubs of fat at her lower back

that shake sexily when she dances which means

she feels different sexing than skinnenbony

Edith but what does the difference mean?

i dance it to mean any dance gets better threeward,

i mean any Jenny has perfect sexy straight

white teeth that dance up and down, back

and forth as she dances and i see them dance,

meaning the world stays stable beneath our dancing

feet or the world means to mirror our dances as well.

i lean on two loves. i dance two desires

into distinct loves. i dance loves how it

reddens me means well. i learn to dance

as if by the reddening. i learn to hurt as well.

Tuesday, September 9, 2008

an end to begin

flatland mindfuck
what you make it
behind childhood memories
but grown up girls need grown up things

look back on years unsettling
schoolbus kiss and
wish for invisibility

fifth grade copycat
tattle and
neighborhood battles for
victory in pickup games and
birthday cake of ET's face
to celebrate

family vaca(y) on planes and cars and
boats sometimes
fishing on shores at eight when
one mile is an
not spent with
The Little Mermaid

flare jeans and nostrils at boys
new school
faced fuck ups in waiting
pass notes in code
for BFF's and future
enemies galore

quick exits and small
mastered and reworked
just in time to
graduate walk and
don't forget to fornicate

start countdown to
semester one two and
three shots in
spinning face down
fairy tale far from
Mr. Disney

this past presents a
future of predictability without
a great escape
internal scrapbook dangling with
simple tests of
for future me as
goodbye forms suburban epiphany

blink back
tears fade as
distance gains
miles heading west
coast nears and
Illinois disappears

Monday, September 8, 2008

eep & peep

eep met peep
in a dark cellar,
a room full of rats
and baby blue bottle caps
the smoke was so thick
that it made
everyone look
like ghosts
eep was fidgeting with
his glass sending it
hand to hand
peep talked to strangers
wearing scary masks
they were both a little lost
and both a little unconscious
and when introduced
thought to themselves
but didn’t say
“don’t I know you?”
they talked about grandmas,
chairs, picture books, and
Ace Hardware, and a lot of
things that don’t matter
suddenly it’s five in the morning
and all the guests have tapered off
to foreign bedrooms
for free love
but eep and peep
went for a hand-holding walk
through the landfills of the town
picking out the best of the worst
and building a home out of it
soon they had a kitchen
bathroom and ceiling
soon they had a baby
the days passed through nights
and the years gobbled down the days
until all that was left
were some photo albums
of a family found
in the attic of an empty house
and in these pictures were
the days of eep & peep
now long gone except
as quietly fading words
on the dry-erase board
we call life


They call me the ocho
But really I’m the cinco

Work that pigskin for the chants
Do that river dance in my pants

Was a Beaver
Now a Bengal

Run dem routs with not ya pappa
But with teammate TJ Houshmandzadeh

Sunday put my face on the TV Trucks
Monday I’ll go all 1995 Greg Maddux

Future Hall of Famer on da jacket
Always be causin dat racket

See you in Hawaii for dat Pro Bowl
Call me Tyson eatin babies whole

Opposing troops snuffle roll tears in eyes
Setting records for the franchise

Berman Chis be making the whoop whoop
This season put a little Lombardi in my soup

Who Covered 85 in '05 was the list
That one made Marvin a little pissed

Watch me dance like Marshall Faulk
Only doing it with a blonde Mohawk

On the cover of NFL Street 03
Love to watch Carson put down the knee

Labeled selfish and a cancer
Trade then for Shawn Alexander

Just kidding love the attention everyday
The names Ocho Cinco by the way

Thursday, September 4, 2008


have paddle plowed the
mind does daintily stride
i strode
under heavy meddled armoires
rain slippers
due to the
of inclement weather
i saw the see

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

Shake My Left Hand

fighter jet in backyard
everyone fast
girl dies
lets tip over cars
send a message
case agaist that
add to the powerpoint
what this calls for
had the editor just published
the girls fault?
raise a valid point
guns blazin'
raise your hand
air force change your ways
location of troops
funeral protection
no media
bullet proof vest
joe hollywood
country divided
Bush is from Texas
freedom of heros
cry bill aka william aka dousche bag

The Buoyant Life

Ride the waves
of crinkles in the blue blanket
the anchor hit the bed
and in comes that close-eyed capsize
something sinks into the deep
all hands are on
oozing decks awash with
sea water -- see water
but there is no dry dock
to welcome and house us
crags go soft we hit
land pillows hardly gently ebbing
to rhythm with our moon tide...
...but then
big wet liquid
hugs your naval
we're naval
deeper now
into our gale
snap goes masts
cover us blind
try to trickle strong
against the cascade force
we fight it, but it's our making
the blue, black, blue, black, blue
and back --
cannot tell which ever in a moment
from the dizzy spin waves make
can cannot take the rush down with us
then see through mist that final crest curls
ready to engulf us:
with no life rafts,
only desire
to sink, go down down
with our us
left to be wreckage

Prologue #2

We leave tomorrow on our
Really fucking long
In this notebook i will record my thoughts
And feelings towards anything and everything
That comes our way
Or enters my mind.
I need to clear my head and that is
Why i agreed to go on
This journey with allen.
Graduating from college is like jumping off a cliff
And trusting that somehow
Everything will turn out alright
to fall
you lose
hope that
or something
Well i’ve already digressed from
The standard journaling form
This will probably be my only
Entry that reads like
What one would expect it
To read like
That is fine with me
Because more truth
Can often be found
In fiction
Than in any nonfiction narrative
And the most useful information
Is found on the extra blank pages
In the back of a book
Or in the empty spaces in the margins
Or in a brand new notebook…….

My entire life can be summed up
In the preceding pages


And the digression always outweighs progress
On this trip i am hoping to find a way
To change that
I need to tip the scale
In the other direction
I’m not sure of what the future hold on this trip,
Nor do i care necessarily
I guess i’m hoping
That through this journey
Which as of now we have not
Plotted out a specific course for
I will gain more direction in my own life
Through the absence of direction in my journey
I will obtain one in my life
Or through the finding of a suitable route
On this journey
I will find that there are many
Correct paths i can take in life
Most likely it will be non of the above
Or else this journey will be in vain.
Our notebooks are supposed to help
Us apply meaning to this trip
No, they help us find meaning for this trip
No, they will show us meaning.
Hopefully we have brought everything
That we will need for the next
….period of time we will be in transit
At least until i can put a period
At the end of the last sentence
In the last paragraph
On the last page of this work,
Whatever it is, or will become, anyways

I guess we will put anything we need
On allen’s credit card,
It’s new and he has a pretty high limit,
I think,
But i forget how he plans to pay his bills
And i forget what address he gave them
Maybe his parents’
But he obviously doesn’t live there
If he lives no where
His goal, i think, is to find good reason
To stop moving
To stop traveling
To stop looking for whatever he’s looking for
Probably what i am looking for
And put roots down somewhere
But i am not sure
What he, if he has any,
Has set the criteria as
For what he considers a good place
To plant himself.
I clearly need this journey
Maybe more than he
Because i keep wondering
About him when this
Is supposed to be for me
These pages intended
To serve as my sanctuary
And it will become hard to enjoy
The peace and quiet
If his interior monologue is constantly
Slicing through the silence
And echoing off the tip of my tongue
And funneling itself into the ink
Of my pen
Until our thoughts are no different
And we’re nothing but two bodies
Riding in a cardinal direction
Pedaling in unison with two set of legs
But thinking with only half
Of our brain power.

La Corona

Sitting here
With a beer
Nothing really seems too clear
The colors of my rug disappear
In the shiny, yellow, liquid
Of my Corona beer

death in certain galaxies is musical

a weathered pair
life's years beaten bodies wither slow breath
a lovers life too broken for these words
pieces upon pieces of
dangle above empty atmosphere
Earth's rotation twists disembodied heartstrings
fragile fingertips meet fingertips in painful innocence
thrown away
aging heartbeats collide
unstable inner symphony Goodbye.


In darkness
Remains the source of light eternal

Dans La Nuit
There can be no command of what is dim and bright

The song remains the same


Are the laws – that – govern man – an – affinity – to know – that – truth – comes from – connections – to know – is to understand – that – logic – is not luminescence

Can a sunrise be explained?

What are Peeholes for?

Stretch child down to labia abutting lips,
two year old princess in her gold kidney shower,
a stance only real men should bend but there is
still time for blackberry picking and bobby pens
roistering rusty splinters down the hinter-path.
Tunnel ant colony infusers taking shiny black
surface of the soldier benign cell, the same
geometric stones in swerve muddy urethras
and the mans man exposing keyhole pregnancy.
'Course we girls are a peehole bigger.


jumping into the fire
we dance over salient
flames which embrace
ancestors freading into
us reminding now is our time
to come together
no way i could leave you
endure me for i suffer greatly
and here i wine night after night
lying next to you holding my hand
endure me for i know not what i do
x me into your heart and let me leave my mark
as we float towards our disintegration never
alone for the word is upon us dancing despite
the fires that burn night and day endure me

for i am a holy fool reaching out for
all i can take in.

(chorus of the madman)
Love is in the ass
an inverted heart
a stifled laugh
a supressed fart
love is in the ass
the ebb and flo
the long thin stream
the lemon yellow
love is purified
16 oz of purelife
love is churning in your
stomach a smooth knife

i shot my love one million times
shot her in the eye
then shot her in the derriere
just to be a wise guy
then is shot the whole world down
with my m16, but I couldn't shoot my
dear old mum who kept my underwear clean

i killed a million mullahs, rabbis, priests & bulls
i killed holy rollers, followers, & non believing souls
i shot millionaires & communists, cops & robbers too
doctors dentists icecream makers richard simmons stew

i shot everyone in the whole world
charleton heston no exceptions
shot john wayne and sly stallone
bruce willis he woulda killed us

i shot everyone in the whole world
save my dear old mom
she tucked me in and read my stories
and helped me say my prayers

mustache grammar

america runs on american fighting and fights

until america runs on to the next fighting

america runs on american fights until

it flies on to a new fight america runs

on time to make the donuts america

runs on ear rock america runs

on a bucketfull of civilian shins

america runs on america all homeless

clothed in all clothes in summer

coconut america runs on melanoma

and spf 50 america runs on time

to clear the lane here comes america

if i’m riding shotgun the lane the shingled

devalued home of america is welfareless

the welfare problem is donuts and bollocks

water-bottled carcinogens and get mine

america fights disputes 95 civilians

killed al jazeera reports afghani bollocks

and america runs on running its mouth

eats donuts, gathers widgets, watches talk

shows, hippies with spirits of american

spirits run on fights top hats and infights

lobbies, bribes, money-fights, fist fights,

ultimate fights and bitch fights, embarrassed

america runs on red-faced, blushed-up

for the none dead, non-dead here Lear

nothing will come of nothing dead

america runs on america tears up, does

herself up, sluts up never shuts up, fucks

up america runs on mocking love america

runs on teases catfights, cockfights, dogfights

america both with canine dogs and fighter planes

dogs with meat beats dog sharpens teeth

until embittered each dog america runs on

eggs on dogs it until the time is right to run

on america runs on america fights and does

not speak chinese or nepalese or japanese

or any ease america does not recognize any dead

language america runs on streetfights

and cheap flights america staycations in armchairs

with donuts america runs on donuts fights

gravity, fights nature whorls a hurricane

looks a target america runs on fights with targets

america-pointed america runs america its own

non-nature threatens ideaspace america

clicks decimals from here to here america

fights to win a numbers game america hides

and seeks from here nowhere america runs

on without elegant punctuations america

only impinged upon and inhibited by lineated

boundaries of thoughtspace america runs on america

has written me into its scheme i-9 1040ez my rules

to run the way america runs on me teaches me to run

on america and the american way my dialogue runs

on with a silent second party in the drama of america

runs on america we franklin our ideals

for francophiles we idealize our french fries

for xenophobes america runs from its identity

america runs on porno has a porno name her

name is her middle name states plus the street

she was born on america runs on legs up baby

giveaways run on she gets wet for goods

america ships herself overseas america overcooks

her steroid meats america replicates authentic

beads by way of the chinese and runs on minting

currencies to fill her bling-bling needs america

runs on doublespeak say drugs are bad say no

runs on say how many drugs did you sell this week

america runs on a certain raceage, a certain creed

say america runs on are you the age we need

or raceflavor of the week, how will your donuts

help america incorporate multicultural values

into running the ad campaign america runs on

america are your donuts less costly, are they

more sleek, how fast can i drive your donuts

to the mall america when i wear your donuts

am i more chic america if i listen to your donuts

will they help me sleep will they help me speak

the languages of cultures subsumed this week

america runs on do your donuts make me weak

easily toppled by an empire of button-popping

donut-leadened idealogues america i’m bed-

ridden because you overfeed i’m useless

in the scheme america runs on because i’ve

nothing to run on, no donuts to be seen

america runs on dusty textbooks and old

lesson plans america runs on a cliche of america

a rolling america gathers no unamerica

america runs on america rolls up its sleeves

time to make america seems remade

the early america gets the oil america

runs on needs america wants america

to believe america runs on america

not a web of need not i want to believe

america runs on am is are was were what

america runs on what it dictates to scribes

america runs on trillions now america

runs on debits debits debits america

runs on withdraw overdraft and pull out

jobs america runs on premature ejack

to avoid rebirthing for america america’s

carnal need america runs on factory

meat antibodies stun guns over lift life

neck slit america runs on what it spills

for each disease and multicolored ribbons

america pins on send more money please

america runs on deprivation innovation

and no-sleep caffeine roads no-doz

truckers run on haul off loads of what

america runs on to where america needs

to run to twenty four seven america

runs on no hablamos espanol y no

entendemos y lo siento pero america

does not run on spanish america runs

on america speaks america dreams

up words as i dream up words

to run on america as america runs

on america i run on about america

i is am are was were to will america

to run on will america run on america

for long along into dilapedation

america runs on america’s will be well

america runs on will america runs

on american will bes will beast america