Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Sweet Painted Lady

On a frozen day in August or July she lounges about the fountains
bring your brushes and paint her if you are afforded the trade
She is small and girlish when she laughs and drinks warm water and wine
her smooth surface is the cost of art so don’t break her innocence
with a crude masterpiece and undo her presence like a thief
Paint her with gentle shades of breezes and frost taking care not to let her
childlike beauty frame the hot afternoon when she wraps her legs around you
Paint tender kisses down her back Paint the calm caress as her skin touches
the colors of breaths and obsession Paint the night sky across her lips and
never forget that she is painting you
r lieness this
lying air point targeting pla ns

prints thermite
prince thermite
lying divi sub di
ing divid vision
ing ing
staten island
black suits
joan of arc
linging flying sun screen
wearing un
burnt steak eat
and un
eat dis
sun tues
day day two trees
missed aisles
missiles lie propelled fuesalages
othering sunscreen
black star eye
harnessing holes

e’s eye

not harlem queens bronx
in manhattan staten island
[insert breaking picture]
xprts walk sidewlks
experts walk streets
exthinkers watch experts
ecstatic susan b complex
bird window
instant expert [actor] says
too trees
woodless no one
too see
office 2c
inferno 4c
burning not trees melting
court fees
wave bed sheets
no beds
intents caves
ima f fa fl
gin la l a
ary g se g

At ease, little girl, I want to be your drug czar

Solitude is a constructive aloneness. Loneliness is a de(con)structive aloneness. With which one must battle. In order to write. Either both are dangerous or neither is dangerous. Enough. In a room with mauve carpeting I battle both. Together. They team a tightrope. I hold a long stick for balance. A cane. The fan runs in the bathroom when the light is on(e). The lemon soap my mother gifted me smells lemony. I mute the TV while reading to offer the appearance of voices. Of company. I am attracted to the woman on the weather.
The book is a negotiation between what the writer thinks it may be comprised of and what actually comes to be, which until its arrival must remain unknown. Unbeknownst to me an addiction to between the sides of this negotiation. This would make for forgettable TV. I forget why.
There is nothing I can say.

There is nothing I can write.

There should be a writing of non-writing. Someday it will come. A brief writing, without grammar, a writing of words alone. Words without supporting grammar. Lost. Written, there. And immediately left behind.

time swap stun paws emit stun law nuts walnuts camus room sumac moor won lived now devil tub live but evil wang and gnaw dna mined snot denim tons pins not snip ton snap sleep pans peels tram wed mart dew door stab rood bats draw are ward era pots top stop pot net sag ten gas rat yaw way tar

drink the air in fits

scape sound breaths
to the snow's falling
downy chiral hand

onyx velvet footing
turn branchimagine
on two old crows

to find my face
shiny side

No se

the people shrieking someday
is a place
I read the notes or two
motorcycle someday
with a yearning
a time I nod my head
or three
and static like banshees a dream
I hold my pen hot rock
a man I knew
a blade of summer
I try to say who will
take of your soul
and loved grass
the things hastening
explaining their ways dried out
they need care
swift step in a someday
and reminiscent
to hear toward noise
breaking of a day
but what of me
ever quicker sort of way
when someday where will you be
in your life All hearts was reality
next week
whispers because today and filled
when I'm alone of me
the angry till the end with hope
or when I want to send
as you used to do
kill Octopus
was never quite someday
my book
your self created was a word
who will look
airplane hectopus
his style we used at my work
toward noise of their days
to taunt the way you did oh daddy
is it
in your car hexagon
someday each other
who will speak true
on the stereo was a child
a distant spot the truth
that you are gone
that will never round
we would have had
we hungered for who will remind me
run faster but didn't
but were anxious of my youth
and I am grown
admist the people
lovers not to find
must I be a grown up
yes you are
away a time
I knew too soon now
from peace will cheat
crying rainbows
that you have fled I am
in the air
would come
dripping tears
who will tuck me
as I sit here
pace make their own
reminding me
all alone
into bed always
but never has of what you were
crying rainbows
if I wish to be faster wailing
sound to them
a child again I listen
to your friends of one
of my own

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

cesi n'est pas une poésie

Fuck Ayn Rand
Fuck Ayn Rand yes
Fuckkk Ayn Rand 
Fuuuuuck Ayn Raand
fufffuuuck ayn Rand
fuck ayn rands sand storm sumps piston pump 
until drained grey grey brain fumbles under
the value of money destroyed.
and past and past and passed
begin again
begin again
begin again begin

with the keeper of sunsets
hold my breath
flecks of glittered golden rays sprout from the shadows
and I am more than a silhouette

everyone reflected in sky
am I
everything real pretending to pretend

thread through crowds dancing
dances with strangers
leading and listening

listen to the fragments
we are all bound together


creating ourselves
with hands of this city
of creators make believing
I begin again

not imitating life
imitating art

pause for breath
to exhale fear

begin again with no one
again and again and again
no one begins again

I begin
to grow again
begin to breathe again
begin with distance and proceed
I am again and again

Norma Jeane

two times I change my name
for that damn singing cowboy in LA LA land

nobly serve a car
to reem your abs and duel Jab's bar

Rays drop the devil
to take over the world

Clay gloves will bring new cashes
and take the belt of weighing heavy as Ali

To take the cup
Ducks drop the mighty

Paint transformed mi mascarilla
but forever sing in the ring as an ultimate warrior

Oilers leave town
only to return as a Titan

the Pacman can munch crunch
buts gets crumbled by the STAR

Syra and Cuse
release the men of Orange

Darts in the mouth will no longer be thrown by Indians
but will be swallowed by the big green

Sonics can't live Super by the Sea
A new city will strike Thunder

I am Marilyn
wizard from Monroe

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Grrrasshoppers walking
look like backpedaling lawn chairs,
how do they always sunbathe
without catching a fever

Somewhere in the Middle

radically mediocre
pleased and poised
set against delusional pressed pocketsquares

dripping into lines
accumulating lucid residue

building block breaker bombs
illegible choices unchosen
by scales of bested men

choose through pitch
uncontrollable sequences staining
molecular tinting molar

explosion of the unself
creation of the born newessence
lines of flight stricken phenoms

never the new segmented
ripped and rangled
stripped and strangled
escape is a predesigned molarity


come home come home comely

or come home homely come

home my home is a vivid

and luminous dream my dream

home is a luminous and continuous

fountain of lovely homecomings

come home my pockmarked

flesh queen my come home dream

becomes my calling your come

name come fountain of gushing

tunnels of water, tunnel of chrome

a revving like water over levees

in love come home welcome

come lovely lover over the home

threshold of you you’re home

love your body comes unadorned

a placeholder for autumns

wheat home comely toss chaff

burnt siena hair comes unfurled

lovely when leaves come undone

into concretes an earth bunting

for an ending ready the exit music

in rivulets of naked sound your pure

come home encapsulates for a crepuscule

my come-home skeletal thinking

of your unclotted homely body

disguised by scenes on mental porches

we call suey to the moon’s corpuscles

to draw the reddened moon down

for a creaky porch swing home-thriced

embrace rock creak rock back

forth lover come hungry like the climbing

luna at three to its home a bewitching

departing teeth to eyelash bats drowse

on eaves inverted above our porch love

home the chill of which homely

basements know intimately calling

comely to attics and windows

illumine the home face façade

in orange this alluring rivulet

of fantasy keeps a come-home project

of petals too lovely to smell

yet begotten of thorns inviting

careful and comely rosegarden touching

edges a run of sound saxophonic lovely

interspersed with homely bawps squawks

blips like homejunk in garages

or unfurnished dust in mindrooms

we care not to dust my love come

between pants slung over chairbacks

and twin coughs come before a cobweb

of shudders come undones forget-me-nots

before the aroma of night tea steam

fills the home with penbeams and moonscript

on the windowfog, a blooming night

of garden logic, a home-old rose

cutting and transposing and transplanting

home to home come to come again

songing in the homesoil saved in mantled

jars a fixture for meditation

for radiant mind botanicals infused

with a come-home odor the rose knows

my homely lover kowtows to eyelid

downward ideas of St. Therese the feather

-spoken home-bound saint of kindly buzzing

atomdeeds with her tubercular face painting

an everhome pristinity like a song

to drown out the cocksure with sorrow

the little flower dream calls come

home wither-chested rosary miscreants

steal honey from the rose bee’s apiary

afar off murmurs announce the coming

of the bridegroom the lovely flower

glows blood orange for she comes

home smiling in the tears the homely

virgin who among luminous throngs

of seraphim waits for sinners

hemorrhaging faiths to come calling

waiting for the chestnut to call out

deadlines for bee petting the sparrow

under the flowers waits for crumbs

of the come home day’s homeless

man self-conspiring in gazebos

and grottos revealed by hidden

trails the mind paves the bridegroom

in winking blushing keeps his sinister

promise amid mental fixtures

and teepee rolls his my home blends

cell towers and satellite dishes

i climb to convene with my lunar

lover ditches i dig to seduce the earth

mineral-rich vaulting the skin’s secret

lovely lanolin culled from lamb’s grass-

fed wool the coming clot of difficult

enswirls the beatified vision of fly

home the flies birthing rose maggots

in the homely kitchen trashbag

the rambles of saints on the doorstep

of a home vision rose petal puddles

coagulate on linoleum a comely sweet

murder seal off seed off and roll

the murmurs of onlookers around

yellow tape strung from trees

like maggotsnakes writing in offering

fruits to the sandy eyes of night

peddling trinkets to retire as six-

figure panhandlers stake turf

a come home money bailout call

appeals to pity the worker bee

keeps no pity night after night

the sex worker outcalls spreads

her homely roses across homes

and swallows up funs and machines

her home is nickel-plated and dis

ease dime-store fresh tabloided

she rose-moans in vivid fear

terminal calls home apocalypst

twain johns two faces or john

after john comes coins in the pocket

trumps tartness her rose colored

frock is a red that fails to redden

or keep her home parts hidden

come hither coyness games

her john into a sharpness of love

fails to mention in a murmur

of sensation blood runs concurrent

to groin thrust in the rose garden

abscess of love the best saints

pens in hand approximate a sensation

of lonely coffee in a come-home

morning cooling in pot on burner

turned off spot of cream and sweet

the tensile strength of dawn spooned

out in roses a number of comes

shuddered out in pimp accountancy

the beads of the ignorant for ignorance’s

comely sake leak out through the face

time in fingers numbers toes and thumb

love after a withering love-come leaks

into the home fountain and limbs

after rose blood pertains to a street saint’s

secret fake holidays staged homecoming

and recovery the redeemer catnaps

a come-home clinic vacuum after honey-

tongued prayers and pee a many layered

filter for the homely kneeling beliver

rising to singshout most high chases

her prodigal god she sees a figure

in shadow on the edge of her fallow

field hands on rose hips waiting

blade to strop to throat after comely

i’m sorrys the dethroned beggar

feasts on the come-slops for his suey

of a sin in abstentia morning buzzing

home yellows come back eyelid blisters

someone spilled 
the bucket purple 
pursed ladies
better than
better than better
probably plants 
or plato.

cold toilet 
las jump truck
maladies galantes
we see 
contraction cavalier
mud fairy
and tooth 
your afterbirth smells farm.
granpappy horse 
flies over babyfields
fleshes never borrow stunted feelers.
finger rivers
erode buttcracks
see see
mouth martyrs.

who buttered knives
bread farmers
knelt on scabs?
listen with all 12
senses to trees ask
advice skyscrapers
coexist coexist with
not skyscrapers steel melts
5000 degrees of
separation burning darkness
trees taller
extending roots
larry silvertein you someday
will forever red
wood lasts taller stands
longer than
clean-x® epidermal tissue rojo
much tonotsayorate all
ness [skyscraper
turning dust
a bird
one not but two heads
power struggling
one body to control
there might be dust
thermight dust
thermite dust thermate
everybody talking bout the falling
[skyscraper [skyscraper
falling] falling]

trees tall
noses held
er than towers
concrete man
made struck
lying down
not aves not
causing falling
falling not aves

Mama Fly

Pumpkins attract flies that
feed upon it's orangey yellow
suncake remains
The flies fight over who
gets to take the first bite
that bite of delicious
veggie rotten
pumpkin meat
of course, Mama Fly wins
and makes everybody just
as she devours them whole
I cut another piece out of
the sunny carcass
this is to be the eye
Mama fly is worried as she
rests there
I assure her, next year there
will be more pumpkins
you and your children
will have a feast!
She buzzes close to my ear
"Smash it. Smash them all"
So, I smashed it.
Happy Halloween .


in traffic
counting cars hybridity
stuck moving rarely (barely)
neighbor blasts radio humpjam
thumping gridlock dance party 101
bumperskin rubs inch inch
inching cavalcade scramble
downtown freeway logic lost
screaming horn soundtrack on
repeat beep break beep break
beep constant rush houred
transit led by dotted line after lined
lane nonexistent lumps caroncar
tailgate friction fuck fuming
road rage swerve speed keeps
wheels roll rolling to sudden stop

my objectionable content

DS competition is a swindle it seems to be all about shoving those below down wtf cant we get over it it is so immature why cant we just love one another like lennon said why cant we just fuck each other right here right now let me take out my cock u your pussy dispense with the pretense no clothes no games no poetry just you and me for the next 2 minutes we can do it we can change the world we can save the world with my jism and your ova ds you got enoug money i got enough academic credits lets fuck for the sake of humanity then we can go on go our separate ways not see eachother like forever you dont have to look at me I dont have to look at you I dont have to read your goddawful poetry and you dont need to read mine fuck love we can hate each other far more fun we dont even have to have sex lets just fight with knives guns words let us tear each other apart send enemas into the heart let us be models of mutually assured destruction you are russia i am america you show me yours ill show you mine what else is there to do we both chose to be poets no no no silly poetry chose us wait poetry chokes us how profound i feel better like a nice dump i am such an ass im too hard on myself haha i said hard on do i have a hardon ds i am such an agressive prick hitler stalin bush who me i am just another liberal drone a social security # running for the showers mein fuhrer i regret that i have but one life to give for my country unless i get reincarnated as a fly on shit so you tell me to smile think happy thoughts take a walk in the woods proust in the leaves awe at the snowscapes dream in the clouds eat hotfudge sundaes give god to glorry become ubiquitous disintegrate all matter forget i ego into self achievement work status there is no huge spider on my leg there is only skin held together by millions of tiny spoders it is here i take umbrage with all the poems i cant understand the ones that make me feel stupid like i should have gone into some other bizness i realize my poems are trite they are about nothing other than myself they couldnt possibly appeal to anyone other than my shrink and i have to pay him to read them i got the self pity blues i got them low down self pity blue ooze i got the redundant self pity blues i oughta stick my head in an oven how original joyce carol oates appears in the american heritage dictionary between oatcake and oath see her buggy eyes so where do we go from here ikea sez home is the most important place in the world so what insert adjective into my vagina this preparation is intended for use in cases of torture only as a temporary expedient until a dentist can be consulted do not use continuously whats with frat boys and paddles didnt they get spanked enough by their ma and da dear crab orchid + creem city bite my entire ass dear paris review you suck youre going out of business you too poetry i got published in my asshole i only have one subscriber speaking of sunshine it was a glorious day i got out of bed made french toast sang if your happy n u know it and i clapped my hands so hard it rained

Thursday, October 16, 2008


just when the summit vision
succumbs to the edemic
air we pant on crampon
crunch perma a frozen god
snowwind in slow measure
the paginated flags mother
us to paces then to roof
it extends infinitely away
up & up despite us
fogged to stupor breaths
we are never were atop.

That we are stubborn

edemic latwerk

in the middle,

air only at the time

of the bottom bottom

the death that is

suffocated with perma

that froze the eyesight

that meets in a top

calls it to do

and to rhythm

that is opposing roof

nummerde independently

God of the slow

measure mother

of the flag that did

snowwind excess

middle considerably


and decide we who

a fog divides deep

into the infinite we

surprise that increase

directly and be

not and did.

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

falling rocks of glass

bluegrass waterfall
blueglass waterfall
bluegrass grows in the fall

channeling raindear
intraswept pleasures that
solidifies the hourglass

crystals crashing in every direction
time twisting with every possession
minutes masking every discretion
interjecting and disinfecting
rot and hammer
nailsaw trumpet players
berating beats busting

through collumns into night
where stars pull
black magic realism through
one trial to the next tribunal

if you choose to pass
not a darker side trimming the fat
of systematized rapture
it's all smoothe sailing jazz
every jungle emerges from a petal
until alls walls falls through
a numb rancid riot rampant rest


Road bitch told me turn
right in point three miles then
keep left exits closed road bitch
said she knows her way around
towns unfamiliar ignoring weather
road bitch doesn't sleep eat
shit road bitch can be British
bitch with button click road bitch
impatience comes in spurts with
missed turns road bitch recalculates
her satellite screen turns black at night
road bitch hates the way I drive
but never quits road bitch
journeyed eight states for this
road bitch merge destination up ahead
arrival celebrates road bitch success
I finally put road bitch to rest
Plastics petroleum
Bases basis for
America USA kill joan
United states of of of of of apathy don’t
Takeyr eyes offtheTV
A war
A war! On squares
Drive in movies leave
Engines running
Drive in circles waving
Bed sheets
War a war
They made
It crash
We made
It crash
Blame them they cause
Buy stuff more things
Needing dusty shelves
Dirty land fills filling her insides
Buy into demonic
Need to un
Escape them

Digging drilling digging
Royal dutch fucks
In upside down
Backyards front
Falling in
Falling to
Trap unintentional
Past ellison’s eye
Unmeditated has too much
Dark hole
Big full of black
Blemish on pachamama’s protective
Skin pulling in
Sides out
Light balance
Shifting going
Under day like when
Jesus started hangin’ out
Everyone lighting lamps
Telling ghost stories around
Ellison’s eye has
Lights 2c
Homeholemade maps 4
His hole not


I cannot wait for
to just strike me
in the head
wake me up
with flashes of
lightening and
give me all of
the answers to
the universe
I know I am
part dust
part star
part atmosphere
But, I want
to feel it
feel connected
to every living
for once
break free
from such

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Can you grow me a new tooth?

my rock is decayded
coming off of ween skull
brain hole pore out
wrapped swirling sausage links
stink gum chew
would hate to live
on an island pelvic punching fu-fu
grinds on bluechrist statue

ma ma
how can you eat without teeth
how can you still
when baby chunks gone
purging gravity spite of toof-airy wing
vein pinion decomposing
but maybe they were scrub mud
from your tooth spit and sweat
of feary wiped clean beneath
her armpit pillow are mind
when if I turn in sleep cyclone
and catch her deadlock pearl dress
fade away and left
hollow tunnels crossing path
cell universe walls that cluster
absinthe organelles
into bitter shrubs of a whole
sponge membrane that doesn't remember
how fun it can be to jerk off
out of bodies and tin tin nabulation-gala
in ribs jangle skeletal
chalky gum tongue
lost in the black back a blanket triad
connected at the seam-thread
stands on tip toes of microscopic
fring walking fly-poop
from the place
it eats an origin shrunken to
saliva slime and the hundred eye gulp
hang fly on linoleum streak
residue hang-lick a squeeze mongol
bunched into ballzbzzz....

fly friends
must have meant the opposite
of walking pregnant tar snowmen
babe bulge of delicate four
running in nature's ruffle dress
bubble this innocent dirt
smear on the dolly's face,
in the corn stocking run
the sun would be angry if she
saw this flower-boy kiss
dainty girl hidden beneath bear head
with savage foam rabies-love lock
wood charm where fleeting
mushroom bug ladies
red the skin future fang

one day
the surface beneath will bite
animus and the hue mince
flesh will invert into
swallow able particles
so that those bug lady and lady men
will mutate, and the color aura
spectrum fetor will dry wizen bodies
ladybug flicker in the light room
x-ray exoskalien's ain't even insect crept
buttons eating larval pack nibblets
but when pressed hard against
the finger the dulcet warriors last glimpse
of life is the one eye pattern
identity-maze and their lime green guts
will drool into my teacup palm
please bubble wrap the angel
until she is blue in the face-think
quiet dark matter
that drip off ceilings
are planetary fiction