February 2012
29 posts
6 tags
The Painter
I went to God’s house one day
and snuck into his studio,
hiding myself under manila drops and
used canvases.
He came home late that night, drunk
with whiskey rage
and opened his paint pots to
begin a new piece
dashing ragered and sadnessblue,
mixing lushforrestgreen with mountaintopskylinepurple
to make navajojewleryteal,
streaking the magnificent...
5 tags
Weaving Weaving Weaving
Do I wanta pick up a needle
and help thread the noise blanket
we all sow in order to sleep?
#362
6 tags
Clearing the Sinuses
Riding with the train
dirty kid
holes in pockets
no matter cause there ain’t
nothing to put in ‘em.
Gotta purchase that next
breath of clear country side,
that’s all,
just gotta clear out and get
back to where you were
born lifetimes ago,
the place strips you of the
filth accumulated over a
lifetime’s begging and bad
decisions,
clear the sinuses,
clear the ifs and the can’ts,
clears it all till...
5 tags
The lucky ones
The ones who get lucky,
they like everything.
The downtrodden
just can’t trust big things,
they crush small things too easily.
#360
5 tags
Birds at an Intersection
Winged Black splotches
rested on the telephone wires
against the reddening
skyline,
all day they had sat
screaming in their
high pitched voices,
yelling obscenities and
insults to the men they
saw,
trying to share truth with
man for centuries and failing had
mad them irate.
#359
5 tags
When the world ends, beauty will still be around
I had a premonition
of the future Civil War,
where I stood at the edge of
blood pools looking into the dense
forest
and seeing the dapple grey horse
trod through Lily splotches
not caring or noticing the chaos around it,
just enjoying its patch of beautiful
and my vision shook then
as the words fall short now
to describe the phenom.
#358
5 tags
In my sacred forest lair I did ensnare my...
I came across a
woman singing
bubbles into the air
amidst thickets of
birds and crickets.
I took a net of nettles
woven tight...
5 tags
Sublimation
My Gram’s
parched, soft hands
and parched, soft voice,
void of anything
except rosary
whispers.
Telling me all the obscure Saints.
The picture painted from
her parched, soft words makes eternity all pajamas
and halos with gold lutes
and angelic flowers,
I stopped having a grandmother at
some point,
now she’s just a walking prayer card
we are all waiting to be misplaced.
#357
6 tags
I met a good girl and turned her bad
Cause no one
that wears
tights that tight
is innocent,
everyone’s guilty in the
Bowery,
I’m gonna get mine
from her
and she gonna have
to learn to get hers
or she ain’t gonna get,
we all take a turn
on Fortune’s Wheel in the
slums much more poignantly
than the rich ones.
#355
5 tags
I against You
I put down childish things
because I am no longer
a child,
but I will not pick up
Mannish things,
because I have never seen a
Man,
he is a myth preached by
posterity as an
absent minded attempt
to proclaim strong roots
in the place of termite
ridden rot.
I will pick up a mate
though,
I will make children,
I will suit myself to bodily
pleasure by marking my
body priority #1
then I shall die
and...
6 tags
Enkido's Footsteps
I look at the two men
in the ring
punching, jabbing, hooking,
dipping, driving, looking to not
be the one knocked out cold,
so they can find their head rested between a pair
of breasts,
man was civil,
until he laid with a woman
and she made him an animal
who’s hearth was in between
soft breasts.
#353
5 tags
empty solace
My life is a constant
Jazz Orchestra,
the smooth, violence
of a trumpet in
some dead-beats stubby fingers,
all band hands digitizing my reality
at a pace unbeknownst to me,
the whole charade
uncontrollably
moves me,
quite literally.
It will end,
this is my empty solace.
Some day the noise will stop,
the fear
is
silence.
#352
5 tags
Creation Story
The public schools make it
look like
God messed up
while making a mix tape for his favorite
concubine.
#351
5 tags
A Narcissist’s Journal
I hope I die
before I loose
my sex appeal.
#350
5 tags
Ouroboros
We men are fixated on
fixing everything
except man,
the tinkerers of the
universe are immersed
in the same pursuits
as a puppy chasing his
tail.
#349
5 tags
Bobo’s Bar and Grille
I look up and the ceiling
disappears
and I’m floating into clouded
Boulevards.
Then I look back to where it
was
that I had been
seeing plush cushions gaudily colored and dimly lit
with half-drank drinks and a dozen people I
don’t know but share
the same space
with,
and talking to each other
would be strange
but sitting silently with
bottle rocket thoughts and
lighters on our...
5 tags
The Soul of a Sweater
I bought a sweater
at a thrift shop,
navigating the rows
of worn down clothes
with my nose,
I smelled deep into the soft stitching
and knew I would pay any price.
Often I can smell its pungent
odor emanating from the closet
and become aroused
at the thought of wearing it.
But I never wear it,
just smell it
and imagine the person who
had worn it before
and how they could have completed my...
5 tags
Passerby
The woman sat
in the yellow lighting,
contrasting the white
siding of her house
and the crisp winter
skyline. Out on the street I
felt colder
watching her.
#346
5 tags
me and you and the dreams we make with words
The sky ships come through
your words
and take me down
side streets of
misguided amalgomorphic
malcontents,
I found myself a pilgrim with three fingers and six loaded chambers,
the odds stacked against
but I still knew the blood
soaked dream would be the
most wonderful thing you had ever given me.
#345
9 tags
5 tags
The Circle of Life
And the tall Blondes
get with the tall Blondes
for dancing
while the magician
behind the counter
makes a buck
so the minstrel can
still sing gaudy
Garth Brooks.
#343
5 tags
Training Your Eyes
I thought a thought so
fantastic,
I hurt my eyes by
straining them to look
backwards.
#342
7 tags
The Wooing of Amaterasu
The crowd came
as they always
did in the darkest
hours before
the Sun commanded
the scope and plane,
shuffling into the
rows of hewn stone
benches,
as flaming fingernails
gripped the skirts
of the world
seeking to make
everything naked
the roars broke
out,
Man, Woman, Child
all standing
and screaming in
shared defiance or
conquest or joy
but each bellowing,
meeting the bright, soft
light with...
5 tags
The Beautiful Infection
Triggers laid down,
like VC pissing on shards of
glass
that too young boys fall into,
the whole scene
cuts me deep and
infects my chest with
tightness,
that’s how life feels,
that’s what beautiful means.
#339
4 tags
The Boulevards
Littered corpse streets fill
my tongue
and I look at you,
none of it washes anymore.
#338
6 tags
The Sickness
Black out depressions
where you won’t back
down and
be happy for
anything short
of God giving you
a sponge
bath
with angle wing luffas.
#334
6 tags
The Fire
The boy took the ashes
and rubbed them on his
forehead
he looked at the woman
she said,
“God makes you poor,
but he doesn’t make you
helpless,
the money and not having
it makes you stronger.”
The boy nodded and walked
through what had been his
bedroom,
mad at God.
#333
6 tags
Synapse
The mess
of haywired
pop culture
sexes up my
brain and you
become some big
glowing face
drawn by my 12-year old
self at the movies,
then we touch
and illusion shatters
into reality
and I don’t
know where I
am.
#332
6 tags
The Young Dead Men
They laughed at sex
and wanted sex
and posted tits on bathroom stalls
when they were too young to die
and not old enough to care,
they looked at death in fatigue
dress.
Others sent them
for reasons others
had
backed by others
who didn’t know shit.
Young men die from
ignorance not bullets.
#331