Daily Archives: September 11, 2015


hang nail like a glider
upon my fist-pleasure finger
makes me shy how it hurts
there’s a closet where
blue-jeaned Japanese
mannequins hide like tortured
killed figurines — all in
Mori Tower that sways in
9.5 Richter dancing legs
i don’t have a reason
eating my lies
like popcorn unseasoned
and no butter please
ass weasels eat me
if i do so i don’t
and Alice i hate you
and that big pink gapping
hole you ran down o god,
here again i go: you
followed Les Bea Anne Lovers!
hahaha…i’m so silly and
sometimes wonder why you aren’t?
Hello? Fellow poets who wear
vagina’s and penis’ — reduced
to zero if that’s all you are!
hahaha…fake flakes of glittering
souls wishing someone_THING makes
you kiss life

:: 09-11-2015 ::


THE cat with three eyes
saw the mouse with two
said the mouse to the cat,
“i’ll gladly give you cheese
for an eye” whisker-twitching
thinking-cat pondered…
said, “if the toy gets trapped
under the refrigerator,
was it ever a toy at all”
the mouse wept knowing
a third eye is god-like

:: 09-11-2015 ::

NAMES OF PLANTS (and some)

i laugh thinking how
words are used
sued thoughts to bring
meaning to absent life
Love the sausage tree
and “mother-in-law’s cushion”
all the names of plants
i’m too crazy to care
a straight-jacket life
like, “kiss-me-over-the-
garden-gate” Tommy
Jefferson first grew it
– hearld from China
And hell, the “obedient
plant” what makes it
so darn obedient? Not
running over your clean
carpet? Imagine roots
with dirt smearing white
carpet sprinting plants!
O h shit! Still thinking
of people names like
“Ima Reilly Cumming”
or even, “Les Bea Anne Lovers!”
thank you god!

:: 09-11-2015 ::


i especially delightfully hate
parents who name their children
visciously-bastardly bad:
Linda called me to say her tests
came back negative: “no preggers”
she wept and with a last name of Breedwell!
Last night Anita texted: “i’m so
lonely I think I’ll kill myself.”
I told her: you’ve so many friends,
hang in there girl — and with a name
like ‘Anita Glasscock’ she’s gonna
be fine yeah! What the fuck!?!
No reason! Oh, no thought.
Leaves me so confused, should
i laugh or should i cry?
Today i had a conversation with Andy
he’s the one at the end of the hallway
with a 5 watt bulb overhead
said Andy, “I have two tickets to
a peepshow if you wanna go” i de-
clined and said, “I’m not prone
to flesh and bone” Andy Phuckterpuss
looked at me and frowned.
There’s a special kind’a hell for
those parents — I didn’t even
mention Buster Hymen or even
Dick N. Butts!

:: 09-11-2015 ::


MY weather(ed)i-t-(o-r) mind
had once said:
“be brief
be brilliant
be gone”
there then
i went as General
by slides or
powerPOINT my mouth
what’s wrong(between me
and we?) the space
of i n f i n i t y
a bundle of energy
with no mouth
to s c r e a m
the wet muffled attack
of my burning forest’s
n e r v e s

:: 09-11-2015 ::


TO wake up in a hole that seems
to move when i try to climb away
like macular degenerative twit
i throw away the hole :
whole thing and strut away

it’s all part of my fantasy

loving how a hole can get
a hold of life then you
punch it where it counts

i look up toward dreaming skies
smell the flowers of evil
oh Baudelaire!

And Sunny’s a fairly American name
Olaf a fairly Scandinavian one
and i see all the people so shoe the
children and feed all the hungry

and too, a part of me humanitarian

we devise a life-setting for our
experiences that seem ambiguous
and Lethargarians are so cute
unless they get off their feet

don’t you laugh, think, but sleep!

so much like the world’s politicians!

:: 09-11-2015 ::


i smell dirt oh myself
inside death motherEarth
i knew jokes never had
she knew i’m a heart
so beautiful black sheep
baa! better than you;
i gave all of me
i won’t complain —-
i am so softly dreaming
many soft fascinating
illusions: a leaf like
a rat run to gutter
so special then i’m gone!
i love myself better than
you//a foot-petal clean
flower said, ‘thick stem
, on a plain so clean’
my brother sang from
six feet deep a gown
of death and i say
‘i smell dirt oh myself
won’t complain i can’t
complain it’s the dreams
of memories asking if we
were alive before we felt
death — leave me along
and rats and black sheep
too — what i should do

:: 09-10-2015 ::


i am not too sad and if you’re hands
washed ugly me\ it washed mother’s
soul and angel’s vulva i am so scared
i’m so ugly it’s so me and you everyday
for all i care i lit my heart for
love that i knew : all of you:
all of you yeah
all of you yea!!!
I’m so empty
I am dirt and less
than horny so blue and sunny
walking the sidewalks
seeing scorn-eyes wishing i were dead
so i love you and i kill me kill you
love i’m not coming back — i skip cause
i’m so happy i’m not the hands god washing
away in sin yeah yeah yeah yeah yea yeah!
i’m so not here excuse me — gentle air

:: 09-05-2015 ::


Twisted lips swallow words
one-eye covered to hide
one to see all hair-like feathers
of an eagle
a boom circled within infinity
shows love like
a hand upon the c hessboad of life
and your mind moves the small souls
into a portion while the King sings
“backwards: welcome to
the world of Alice
a world about to fall”

:: 09-05-2015 ::


Mighty ghost of a larger
spilled the smaller
pill of love is
the memory of life
we spread(ingly)
our boxVOICE drugged
blood of her mother
and FORward-flung lungs
beg white knight —
REMEMBER the white
sun sings

:: 09-10-2015 ::