4/12/14

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.

4/11/14

 

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

heimlich

aristocrat

mensch

lagan

pawn

from the skies 

packages & fingers 

the consensus slopes 

& ants in our heads

 he didn't come back after the 

accident 

strike the line of poplar trees 

I wonder how to live like them

4/10/14

 

The language of rust

is blood; withering

steel is still

the stuff

of life

iron or

shadows, sequence

Liturgy

of a map of

shipwrecks

seen from

space

space

is everywhere

anyway

everyone needs

space

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,

 boats? 

The spaceship construction, the

 desolate all blown out; you taste like 

petrol, empirical waste, he 

exports 

words, the quail dun of clean 

conscience.

4/9/14

 

Ascend

the thousand-yard

stairs

What is left

What is right

When

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.

4/8/14

 

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

4/7/14

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

out

in the malls & offices

Products’ bulwark

Take this luxury watch

Take this confit

conifer concubine

Life writ

& signed, authentic

unabridged

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.

4/6/14

 

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

Utopia

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 
projector; 
the projector, a soldier
 molded from coal, the killing,
the slate walls in prayer.

4/5/14

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

kinder.

No noise. 

Designed & engineered. 

Eyelet erectors, toy fevers. 

Please protect us from the 

future,

 its sterile smiles, pieces & parts, 

toxic biologics: 

"that's just how it is."

4/4/14

Hanged ones

Roots stretch out to air

beggars

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

enough

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.

4/3/14

 

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

promise

Not political, apolitical

 believe in humanity, progress

 clean consciousness 

be right 

fresh direction 

in life & work