Apr 28, 2014


Angles, scribbles,
legs & glances
the eye too has a depth
of field like a camera,
an aperature being
a door which is in turn
an opening & an opening
is just a punctuation
of empty space, which
exists outside of us, or
within, mostly figuratively
but for the lungs, those
emptinesses upon which
life depends being filled
& emptied & filled
& emptied like the world
itself or a heart or
a soul.
The rhythm of color, starts with 
a strike, ends in gris, the 
poison: "everything that 
to me is my life."

Apr 27, 2014


Blue oxygen
What warps wood
& licks steel
to feathers. The ship
weds the water,
the beds of sailors
underneath, the shreds
of flags & disintegrating
rings of gold, of bone,
electrum.  Even the Christ of
the Abyss shall be
consumed; veil of Isis
beside the mount,
the eater of sins
inside the mouth.
Steady a ship on rough seas! 
Generators, pipes, & equipment 
do not exist here. Bring your valise. 
We can predict everything you will need. 
You are a part of me here, all around us, 
the same matter of gulls and glass waters, 
the white beach so graceful, the humanness 
boat. Off we sing siren! These magazines & 
 rocks motionless fleshy portraits.

Apr 26, 2014


Brittle flowers beside
a window the balm
of the domestic, a cadence
of wrong looks—a doily
is full of holes like
the warped road to certain
sections of town. Paper
like this peeling
through the centuries,
painted over; these autos
junked; these people
how they once were, never
again now.  An aspiration
turns to dust just like a potted
plant does.  Buildings remain
but we do not
in them.
Today is a good day, I sleep 
varicose to myself. 
The pier, the awl, and the boys
 next door gather up 
tinder for my oven, two drops 
of oils before I faint 
in the cathedral, the linens are 
pressed just so.


Engine of nausea
Engine of anomie
Engine of derision
Engine of despair
Engine of desiccation
Engine of lassitude
Engine of trepidation
Engine of stillness
Engine of placation
Engine of hierarchy
Engine of platitude
Engine of egregious
Engine of temerity
Engine of solitude
Engine of sobriety
Engine of schadenfreude
Engine of infidelity
Engine of ignominy
Engine of surplus
Engine of lucre
Engine of vice
Engine of paranoia
Engine of greed 
Engine of hunger
Engine of ghosts
 Shots for everything
No shred of humanity
My supervisor's eyes--fake.

No shred of humanity

Apr 24, 2014


A hole in the smile
is a window for breath;
a house torn down
is a victory of sorts
for the human who can learn
to live on the face
of the earth.  Sans eyes
a cleft face is like
a fruit tree, the cyan
bubble of a bottle
reflects ghost eyes,
a boom mike, the hidden
author of the narrative;
under the gown the body
is someone else, a story
like clothes; bound to
change—a wall torn down
is still
a wall torn down
no matter what.
Blessed art thou among fences
& gates, and blessed is the fruit
 of olive drab. I cannot hear you.
I wish for parties, baseline fortitude,
many graces & sexual favors.

Apr 23, 2014


All the colorless
ideas, the furious
of the awful present;
a room will fall
around people, a gauze
curtain cannot hide
light, only the details
that never bear
mention.  The tyranny
of white, spoiler
of shadows, the flying
time like a warhead,
a mushroom cloud
is just an analogy
when one is of no use,
as is a bond when
people are just naked
I dream of happier occasions,
 where rocking horse & dolls litter 
my landscape, bean bags, blocks, 
& farm animal miniatures pester 
the toy cars, the metal of boys 
not yet against me. I'm lucid here, 
there is nothing more to bear, I'm 
so vulnerable, so baby's breath 
in my hair, so lace-dress 

Apr 22, 2014


A white tree
An avalanche
Ethereal cauliflower
hung over
noxious orange
drums, trunks
of steel, eyelashes
power lines, life
sustained by
processes ununderstood
but intuited by
blood & lungs,
the gifts of science,
the spoils
of wars
we cannot see
The busts of women ride 
over the skies, 
physics has nothing on the 
granules of life. 

We've compared this open, viscous mess 
the our love-making. 
Cannot. See. Through. It.

Apr 21, 2014


Storm of silver nitrate
Janus in chrome
Third eye leather
the worthy intuits
the milemarker.  The car
is just a conch of
dials & vinyls, an ashtray
keeps fire
at hand, smoking
in a gale we once did
what we needed to
& left the rest
to glower, mesmerism
of the asp
of the road, tell no tales
behind the wheel
We’re all going somewhere
from the moment
we got in
There is no background, only wind. 
Women caress the car, men do not 
 understand the complexities of our situation. 
We would love to experience this live, 

breathe smog alternates, my venom seems 
 plasmatic, every particle this mass-cross field. 
I cannot see.

Apr 20, 2014


Turtleneck automata
abstract & obscured
plywood expressionism.
Against the wall, the damoclean
tide of dry rot, a face
-off, face to face to
facility for
small talk & big plans
that amount to the same:
a decaying shack
fish guts
nuclear war
all-new laminate countertop
easy to clean, never cracks
self-cleaning oven
for your head, brand new guns
for the kids, something for
the neighbors, heart,
hinds, debris
stink eye
You & I have questions. You fear 
answers. Kream soda, jelly tarts, 
you have guns under my 
sweater. Open the latch, we 
shall form a clatch.

Apr 19, 2014


Hear air
See dust
Speak of

what lies
in wait in
the recesses

of the raisin of
the brain or
the slimy
meat of
the heart
the shimmering
fluid of
the spine
that underrated
dragon who
With a transcend, who leads bed 
science, a quail at the edge, 
 a moleskin wall. "What am I 
supposed to look at?" Old fogs, 
shirts and linens, molecules, 
materials & labor.

Apr 18, 2014


Spumoni strata
or wall epidermis tear
energy sponge
of wood & frail
metal & glass, a ghost
is a room’s trauma
or its fond recollection,
but which is which?

Vertical line does not
suggest a stable
horizon but an opening
or the aperture
of a tunnel as in the fabled
heavenly point-of-light
death-vision, funny
nobody ever nearly goes to hell—
flames & depravity—even lovers
of flames & depravity.
Mutton fat & honey 
In Jordan upon the rhino 
we rode through the wall.

Apr 17, 2014


Mother tall & grey like a building

            Eats scraps

                        A green coat of fire
                        A green coat of smoke

            Mother splits atoms
                        in her mouth

The grey machines are Mother’s lovers

Mother math
Mother coal
Mother hair
Mother eyes
                        Mother silo

Scraps coal lovers math         eyes
                        Silo smoke
                                    Fire in her mouth

Mother’s robot eyes
                        watch in the dark

In the dark
                        A coat of Mother
                        green smoke
Walk we gravity-walk
 the mudslides roar behind us; 
I've done everything 
to re-adjust, be affluent non. 
The streets & maps,
 are skeletons of nylon, 
I made a mistake.

Apr 16, 2014


Grey apples & flagstones
A mouth of concrete
poetry of the bazar
painted by the hand
of ambivalence;
the bite bruises
the fruit flesh of,  no doubt,
lead. An era steeping
in poison
following the piled
bodies of ideology;
they called themselves modern
we call ourselves contemporary
Next comes what?
A new Renaissance since
by all means we are all fucking 
The belly of labor, 
mustard sackcloths, 
the old world is a fireman's
 new frontier, the framework 
of eyes & accidents,
 the gears don't rust me, 
I wring silos from this mesh.

Apr 15, 2014


The space between atoms
Wallpaper of the universe
The most profound sensory
organ, dendrites stretching
from the eye forever tilting
like a tree; my god is the
god of windows, who brings
strangers close, who collects
rain like jewels, who opens
to the spring & who cements
indelibly the flesh to the
mind, the enigma to the
mouth, the ear to the ground,
the hand to the pane
like a sucker
fish who looks out at the air
that would kill it.
There is a Buddhist idea: to 
move toward painful & fearful situations
 with curiosity. The slopes of wood, 
the tapestry of glass, a wife against 
crocodile fat—cinnamon stallion 
beckons at the door.

Apr 14, 2014


Iron & ether
& the salt sea
an ear of dust
the slash of culture
Rank norm ideogram
a theraputic fistula
for forgetting
forever the body
mind over matter
as in what’s the
pitch & yaw
Freight is just ballast
for sale

A safe place is a place
that moves
annihilator Kali storm  
No country on the moving water
No town
All free
under the nothing flag
Steel blight upon it but
Nothing is forever
nothing is real
I love nothing
I feel nothing
The house of pesce, 
fish you say, 
lasts longer
 than the speed of barn wood, 
everyone's bed. 
Mirror feel me, 
eat your telephone please.

Apr 13, 2014


Anomie of grids
& bars redacted;
sheetrock records the splatter
of human
as ghosts; industrial
lighting lightning
desiccates thoughts.
In blank rooms’
memories hidden
& suffused with individual
pain.  Colliding speech
atoms & all the another
others, post this
or that, screech or pop
pop of heels,
creakings, shots. A space
created for discrete
persons’ activities discreet
or somnambulistic, nonexistent
irrelevant revenants.
Every secret gagged
by death, an affront to god who is
an affront to man &
Vexed by the everything, the everything 
of possible everything; 
everything could be 
this way if entrance & love & hinge & hollow. 
We need openings to walk through in this 
life, otherwise, no element of surprise.

Apr 12, 2014


Slag mist
& piped wondering
gods shuddering &
spitting & swallowing
their children whole for
to excrete greasy
simulacra & disintegrating
embellishments for the dead
alive tombs that are
the apogee of this
filthy stupid skiffle.

Pastel cloth lost
in the umber
paramilitary cogwork
& iron anathema
pumping veins ,the shrill
broadcast of expiring
plastic, noxious coughs
of foremen huge
& slippery & stinking
of the last lousy light
of these days.
Ten-fold toxic marsh in heels, 
I have no sludge rights, 
 but I keep moving. I've cried 
smoke & oil, flag diseases; 
it's never still, the absurd fog.

Apr 11, 2014


Electric light age;
no keep
nothing for keeps.
Kelp & soy;
marooned when
one stops working.

Call this an ethic.
Tied down,
when so many
cease to be
agents of
a new career path
like a transplanted
heart: bismuth
& polyurethane
like a mace-head
for a master of

ritual naming
never used in public
from the skies 
packages & fingers 
the consensus slopes 
& ants in our heads
 he didn't come back after the 
strike the line of poplar trees 
I wonder how to live like them

Apr 10, 2014


The language of rust
is blood; withering
steel is still
the stuff
of life
iron or
shadows, sequence
of a map of
seen from
is everywhere
everyone needs
but ghosts
& latent ghosts

To be alone
in darkness
The story of a web
of ropes
& pulleys; what
makes us
what we make
of this:
its & ofs
What might they want, ships,
The spaceship construction, the
 desolate all blown out; you taste like 
petrol, empirical waste, he 
words, the quail dun of clean 

Apr 9, 2014


the thousand-yard

What is left

What is right


Broken bowl
in an empty shop
Cracked cup
A nothing store

Nothing to sell
nothing to say
nothing to do
just like
all the stars
the Earth the Sun the Moon
Transparent fish, 
sleek kittens & vaz-zes, 
faces vino loves.
 The threads
 of coach, born in Trieste, in 
either place,
 Guiliana is always tired.

Apr 8, 2014


Exit mirror stage
left; a crystal grows
inside like a lichen.

What cannot break
only shakes.
What cannot be broken
only disappears.

Athena owl exits thru
the back of the head,
a spinal tap
root dance.  Tendrils lunge
at the sun
even when full
of rot.
Devour your factories! 
Hair scraped to wall. 
Turning, turning. 
What should I sell? 
What should I know?
 From the slate sky 
one overcoat

Apr 7, 2014


Darkly through
the eye of pharmaceuticals
the rest that
propriety cannot afford

Floating above
the gentle hills or propped up
in coastal wind
the lung wind
sock sighs in leisure
prescribed but never
paid for
in this life

Affixed to the prow
or the ship itself
how many are rotting
from the inside
in the malls & offices
Products’ bulwark
Take this luxury watch
Take this confit
conifer concubine

Life writ
& signed, authentic
Devour yourself—here. 
Silt body ooze around 
 corners, igneous panic, 
so dirty, unmistakable.
 Just above, quicksand 
husband comes, my minty 
aversion a laser beneath
 my dress. How to scrape your
 walls & cry.

Apr 6, 2014


Iron stairs

anjali mudra

soul light as

Saturn, butterfly-winged

lightbringer ringed with

lapis & carnelian

green garbed as

the ladder is withdrawn

Fits & stars

Water & ceramics

Grove of the Suicides


Every body is mostly salt

Tears in heaven are

rain in hell
Industry's twin, refine me 
for stolen diamonds,
 weep beneath frames
 folded & flipped for the 
the projector, a soldier
 molded from coal, the killing,
the slate walls in prayer.

Apr 5, 2014


Now I lay me
under diode eyes
of watchful solemn
robots, gyroscopes
cemented in space;
neither close stars the flash
of motherwhite ,
nor a seraphim
but smoke
from a motor;
the world
I inherit shall
not be
No noise. 
Designed & engineered. 
Eyelet erectors, toy fevers. 
Please protect us from the 
 its sterile smiles, pieces & parts, 
toxic biologics: 
"that's just how it is."

Apr 4, 2014


Hanged ones
Roots stretch out to air
Electric doubles
assuming linked
throbbing the web
of community patrolled
by autos
Autonomic shivers
as the human tree resists
core’s pull
The laughing eye that coughs
up petroleum
Plastic for plates
plastic for cups
plastic for a garment
Shrouds like linoleum
that admit
oxygen & prayers
but never
for another
The monitors 
shun antennae,
 shroud people pace
 themselves in cold
 parkways; I'm of the mind 
that we cannot 
have, or want,
 this cemented conversation.

Apr 3, 2014


Cannot find
in the forest of Styrofoam
or lead painted
apples the fruit
of progress is
numbers that do not
add to the number
of weak stars
alone as though
any space can
ever be bridged
Empty down
to molecules we are
sieves Even the light
passes through
though the bare bulb
may burn flesh
the salmon pink glow
of our holy
shroud reveals
the mineral core
unthinking scaffolding
from which we hang
agency No simple thing
to die when the open
skull goes on
smiling even when
there’s nothing
funny Lips will
fade to dust so go
on speaking the ears
too are not
yours to keep but
the hollow air
is to every one a
promise indelible
Not political, apolitical
 believe in humanity, progress
 clean consciousness 
be right 
fresh direction 
in life & work

Apr 2, 2014


Limits confound like a headache,
the white conversation
helicopters; out among the same
razed discourses—
each one goes looking
for what can only be found
in the cloudlands of the laid head,
not a damp mattress
in the brittle keep
of someone’s sotto voce.

Until the terms of confinement
are emblazoned one does not
to seize, prize the mouth of the
falcon to put in head & look
for the real, dirty truth
of the dream. 
The nervous bourgeoisie
will pull apart the house
while you trace the pentagram
with lipstick & soot;
this is what we never discussed
in polite society:        I am the child
            of Belial. 

Middle managers
in the drab corners
exchange quarters;
O you loud heavy
ships out to sea
don’t leave without me
without leaves
in the garden of my

Snapping off woods of home
 to feed the tribe 
king and confusions
 through the room
 ship stops by shack 
some little vultures 
some screams of tankers 
outside, the dry holds
 of husbands.  Royal jelly, 
dried shark fins, firewood,
wash bowl.

Apr 1, 2014


Artery of taffeta
sapphire capillary
to swim to
Rapa Nui by way
of the music of

Story of melting stone
to the child sieve
just a meter
until the yellow sun
descends, a pious
pogrom, down
in the fronds
of the carpet

Mother shadows
nothing nightlike
We begin
ejected to the sea
Ships only bob
What we want:
the deep
the silent
the shifting waves
of origin
Deep undeep,
flesh slices through
the life, the Earth,
do you know
conglomerate mass, rituals,
the wounds of a thousand
caverns of yourself?
Would you know
these gods or demons
if you slept depth deaths
with them, ancient
following ancient,
what the machinery left,
a distant coma, transmuted.