It’s been some hurting time: I lost it in a dial of fountain garbage youth — catfish mouth hooks and I never saw you sorry inside
Boreas is colored freezer pain! I haven’t had a hand job or pie Since the government gave me opportunity or more chances than churches where Jesus hangs on solemn walls while
flesh bags cry and pray for all their sins in a covered wagon somewhere in the 1950s black and white television. Gee I never knew ancient ones wore makeup and butterfly Lips like a hungry flower in a whore field. The sky gave me her scars like purple vaginas missing periods for months.
And Billy went to the store to pick up a jar of fat pickles. She never reached behind the curtain but I had my dummy and a fist beneath his cheap shirt making all the moves of a failed life.
The magic-life like hugging spoon
against another)spoon-like life
a being-here like humanStory
that all thumbly-reading while,
(nothing-here/ but idel-meating(
only imagine,a fall of watering
misty-dreamy godSpray hair-in
a splash across solid maybe
rocks and mistySpirit float-in
ways so slippery mystery-daze!
i(can we?) supposing this
a solid-misty dreaming day?
:: 10-01-2014 ::
A B C D E F G …
Ahh be see dee eh If gee
And I say!
I’ll be see dee if gee…
[wait a minute…]
I’ll be seeing Dee if she wants me!
:: z06-26-2014 ::
the grief, such a little pinch
a park bench baked seat
we too, bench and me
like the park, solemnly
where do birds fly
— my wonder, undercover
beneath the last refrain
of nature song fades…
surely not within me?
nor the park bench baked seat
which soulfully comforts me
such song (and birds) n’er die
but this grief surely will!
:: 05-16-2014 ::
I walked across the tender land
of a sun-baked road in skin
and the buzzards flew each step
I came across a road kill too
and the carcass smiled at me
‘so here you are in your world,
so small and captured too’
I walked past the dead philosopher
— a raccoon with a smile twisted,
and I felt caught in a psychological
cage of dreams with heat on my heels
I kept my pace and came across
a river of life and it was good
a magical being greeted me, said,
‘don’t ever let them see you bleed,
and never let them see you need.
Life, will make you cry —
living will bake you dry
caught up in a psychological cage
let me be, just let me die!
So, the road you walked came to an end
and the sign post said a few things
‘Welcome to nirvana my sweet dear friend,
you won the lottery of enteral bliss.’
What the fu*k is this psychological,
metaphysical trap of tar pit dreams
we fight to win love and smiles in?!?
‘Never let them see you smile
dream a life of wonderful dreams
and whatever makes you smile!’
said the dead philosophical raccoon
:: 05-11-2014 ::