Saturday, October 29, 2016

Raw fascination having touched our circumstance

Marrow and cable volunteering at sunrise, bringing apples to the table
Polishing sweaty chromium bumpers rounded pointy, delicate and ready
For hundreds of guests to arrive swinging napkins from their hips, beckoning love
Like the lifting tail of a sparrow whose tiny eggs, within a few short weeks are gifting
This gracious world within her nest such cries of hunger, that we run for the spacious
Hills, the wrangled raw fascination having touched our circumstance too roughly, mangled
Our sheets in excessively tight cranking rollers, habanero peppers are no hotter than sin
We bless upon each other in bed, taking and giving ahead of sweet regional intimacy's song




Sunday, October 16, 2016

Oh darling please

Oh darling I'm down on my knees.
Oh darling I'm down  on my knees.
Will you bring me on home, bring me on home,
Bring me home please.

Oh darling please lend me your hand.
Oh darling please lend me your hand.
I thought I was walking on the road, walking on the road,
But I'm sinking in the sand.

Oh darling please show me a sign.
Oh darling please show me a sign.
When I'm slippng into darkness, slipping into darkness,
Won't you throw me a line.

Oh darling please hear my prayer.
Oh darling please hear my prayer.
I'm singing it to you, singing it to you,
And I know that you're there.


Friday, September 30, 2016

Dearth of a salesman

They could not find their way
No one to lead the day
Plastic bags upon their feet and hands
Dusting off their knees while rolling in sands
Of a peristaltic action underneath
Resilience of an out of touch belief

We speak we spin the web
Of spiders in our head
Ants and rabbits walking slowly in the yard
Hand me over to your business, take my card
And flip it through the air like a trout
Doing with it what one does without

Impressions from the end
You never were my friend
Second guessing when the axe would fall
Ankle deep in jelly in the stall
My hooves were cooked and melted it is true
This Raininghorse is turning into glue


Monday, September 12, 2016

Iced shaken stirred

Into your duty pantleg pour concrete zippers of whale meat
Dawn blisters its emptiness within radical vaccinations against autumn
Hair tie unbutton resting arm across wasted wasp stinging five times
Like the cock we discussed perching in language henhouse that fox
Pushes tail into my face its fuzzy determination fashionably obscured
Camouflage vacation hollow wrenching grill with hillsides of bones
In dirt and washing all hung round and beaten like drums until darkness comes



Thursday, July 21, 2016

Serotonin middleware

Tanning flow potential a diving hand cupped framing webs
outside a gated region sumptuous with spiders in glimmering sun
somewhere east of hyacinth west of buzzing bees.
A pair of hummingbirds flirt on ancient power lines long dead
diving in for a quick fuck before nesting begins filling skies
ignoring crow caws cracking afternoon smell of garbage.
My throat opens in imaginary swallowing pose thinking of her
How she took me in caught me engulfed me consumed my yum
Eyes open blinking against the light of sun from behind my shoulder.


Monday, June 27, 2016

Or you turn standing toward me

Did you lay down in the water and spin your smile toward the sun
implementing a distinguished variation of Horus choreography, a blemish
grass fed and leaning into the fence for just that one moment before the touch down?

Are you willing to sink down before you fly, before you turn standing toward me
brandishing that unseen side of light that is called darkness in the bath?

If so then so be it and nothing I can do can capture that essence that is you.


Friday, June 03, 2016

Capsize yonder vaccination

This unrepentant documentary volunteer
Fell to her knees and slowly but surely
Disappeared beneath the waves of her master
Obsession with water disease and disaster

They chase her around dictionaries and towns
Unnamed and filled with minions whole cloth
Vagaries and non-informed opinions buried
Like a warm excretion on a beach vacation

Pistol packing Annie doing time on the trail
Fanny pack bouncing and the edge of her skirt
Flounced and getting dirtier by the minute
"Shoot me with your drug" she says, "for I am in it."