4/28/14

 

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 

neurotica 

poison: "everything that 

happens 

to me is my life."

4/27/14

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.

4/26/14

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.

4/25/14

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

4/24/14

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.

4/23/14

All the colorless

ideas, the furious

sleep

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

people.

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 

moment.

4/22/14

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.

4/21/14

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.

4/20/2014

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

polio

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.

4/19/14

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

remembers

every

touch

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.