in all of the things this world lays out

colours I can't teach you're finger tips to draw,

this must be the way strangers speak when they first meet
but I wish you a blessing so that you're belly will carry it's stone
to it's tiny membrane,
and hollow out the song
that mystery keeps hidden beneath our skin,
let us all grow into these interstices,
one small bone growing until it is a completed rib,
how magnificent,
us beautiful toys, us unkept beds, us ragged radiators,
reaching with our mouths full,
of winter berries
and small fragile apple skins
bruised around the edges
but red where we place our finger to digest each others human smell.

I carry you this fruit,

all whole world and I know it is nothing
but it looks good on us children.

Be blessed,
I love you're faces,
you greek orphan gods,
you agile music moths,
glow in my mind, rest in my breath,
and build houses in my dreams where we can stay to take care of one another.
that year, that month ahead,
I bury my childhood shovel in the woods,
say a few words, pour sugar around the wound i have created in the earth,
to bury a blessed name,
three thousand blessed names,
o god i love these body jars full of rain
i keep them in my prayers
i lock them to my heart
i grow them to my bone
I watch to make sure they have gone safely through the door.
Selah, Selah.

Take This. Amen...

The Distortion of The Engine

It’s in a flash you sense the line in the eyes the unity of being – withdraw themselves across
pounded hills – a low rattle the murderers of late hours – speak for flame though I long for the
mantle – where you put your knees the house will lunge – now for certain there is nothing to
keep – as darkness follows daybreak you speak of city Gods – but you want me lost in the
spiders abstract hand – in it’s flesh how can helplessness arrive – how can matter continue –
when suicide is the golden shore your heart dreams of – I blurted out a piece of cloudy moon
evanescent and each term in the shack the honey rat scrambling - It is my impression the
guts the endurance I don’t want to disturb anything as the foam pad rose – the witness tree
for you the way of sorrow – the methods of attaining heartless spine rock – all cities glow but
the beautiful keepers will not endure – and I am a body an instrument which has no purpose –
Is all the world a symptom the body a first connection – where you sat to light I came a
promoter of thought – the eyelid where I put my gloves brought low into the body pain –
somewhere ahead of the grease storms you shall open this book in your days that are
numbered – in your hour that moves no thought – in short – freedom which is looking for me
– sprawled face down the echo bucket and fire hits a vein – screaming the form which is born
of the bounded senses – nothing sees all and your roots are wasted – a message from the
woman dream on this road where the crystal skull is the essential nothingness that holds up to
life – O light lose your way and mine so I shall never see what it means for a horse to speak –
and summon greatness where there is only loser life – though art a shine in the book of the
spleen.

Machine For You-Steel For The River

Sleeping in a black hotel-

As the earth turned fast-the wounds
Gathered at the crib-
And the sun-we do worse-Looking is knowing-
My mind is full-
You don’t see me then doctor-mixed in
Negro silence-
Whose name is mine-of the bodies where the
Inhabitants roam-the sweetness of my stripe
Knocked from flesh-her tone mercury-
What do I profess-nations become ended-
Chemical metaphors manifest in the absolute
Scattered unity-
I’m going away from the trash and the
Mad scrawls-
(which is slit) darling-the essential memory
Of snow-alley stink-the fragmentary word-
Even the empty outline of the others flesh-
Wait and I will carry you there-
Into the minds it is hearts that are sinking-
Pretty solid boring dealing in the fixed
Future-calling rain through drift sleep eye
And night clubs murder beauty with no law-
Scrape numbers from bondage moon-
Over and over again metallic cities-
With my nightmare bullet-
Grace unveils the sadist annihilation-
(for shadows do I keep my word as true)
Strange to remember-
The high balcony your drunk foolish magic-
Yellow head bound in steel-
Now everything is strangeness to myself-
Since all die I will lose nothing killed
From simple word-
A crime from the mirror-
I am in the midst of the world-
Caught in the ritual possibility of action-
Haven’t you heard-
The ruins of a stone create a city-
Bad advice on the coin eat my
Word from the mouth-
Toward an irremediable outside-
I exist for myself-
The question of the body is ours-
No longer for the other-
Double planet-
We call love o but how many-

Slow Sugar

Good for me
television bruises
and bandaged fingertips
loose lips
sugar stars

Don't say a word

I'm only breathing
mist
for
heartache

Heartache
for
avalanche

all the tight burn

in my atmosphere
sizzle

First kiss
I'm lost
and don't need the cure

Tiny cities
where your body reminds me of nothing
but cold mornings

Jerked from the start

your on the juke box
your in my drink

whore on a carousel
a circle of light
dances through my head

a hundred versions of you

what am I to do with one single one.
Zero Is Sad

Not this
where winter has its bad edges
and staircases cough
and no one knows me
Cause bad is what I am
North
cherry hill
the night I stole your hair band and ran off into the woods
you were scared
the creek made a sound like broken stones
that really wasn't much of anything

And when you took off your glasses and rolled your eyes
I swear it was seven years later
and you were a waitress for no reason
laughing cause you'd lost my poem
and I must of looked like you forgot my name
the coffee was cold
you were more fun when you barely had tits

window
spit of light
it's home on the table
I wish I was a girl
and all that dream for evidence babble
apple orchard
sleepy branches
fifth of October
come find me
I'm in the back seat
playing with your lighter
flame goes
body goes
just like rain when you thought the storm would never end
I should of said something else
something that would of lasted
meant more forever
scratching in the wind
a bruise from the satellite of love
in the tunnel
I kiss your neck
frozen timber
creeper lagoon
I'm wasted it's all good
like stars above and below me
you settle down
not so romantic is it?
Turnpike 2 A. M.

My body
when I breathed
that deep intake
under the Holland tunnel
the sky was a December whore
lit red lights
I hated you
from every New York club
it's all closed
no more playing with your shoes
that I've come down across
Broadway
nothing
all there

Bits of information
I'm frayed
and my edges miss your tongue
my collar bone feels like a bucket of stars
you wasted
when I lifted your hair so that you could puke
It was about salvation
not compassion
not really feeling
as you danced towards west 123rd
red lights and glitter bones
I love you like you were a lost star

Into me
cabs and ice shoes
how you look
when the first snow finds your lucky mole
I won't be dreamed in tragedy
It's a short broadcast
I don't have much to tell you
Hartford '99
fools under bicycle dreams
Tapanzee needs new color Grandpa
I have the end
It's almost there
It's almost everything.

Chrome

I dream it is coming – drawing together from everywhere – the emptiness of the body – over
the city my skin is in the wind – this is the book it never fails – you are swallowed in the earth
rimmed in bronze – glass flows from your broken tongue – the void is within me crumbling sea
fog I am only an ideogram living in the house of sideshow – this is the message salvaged from
the metal waste - sick to my stomach I want to come kill and be killed and hear your voice
and follow my way past the rats into the dark night you have heard of me – you will hear of
me again – blessed is the prayer – looking for a way out – It is cold – this is a map – we have
to read our own blood into the spineless poison – love does not exist – I want to be burned –
to be a whore important in the world – horrible slum the plastic knock – end of abstract
thought – I dream of myself not in truth but in the way of fetish – into the snow my mouth a
part of the living road – will you take me there – will you unanswer me and be my prayer -
everything both dead and dead imagined – stimuli – a fetus congealed in the red sketch – I
am no longer my life – dominated but I don't understand – I don't want to touch and be aware
of what is real and what is imagined – a side door of black in a photograph of metal – in the
iron eye my skin sticks – here no one control's the whores – no one gets lobotomies – or
strange phone calls in the middle of the night – stars stay out forever – strangers love you for
no reason at all – there is no escape but there is nothing to run from – unless you are alone –
inside the unbalanced say june or july – speak again from your teeth – here standing a chair is
only a chair – gnawing the burn at the end of the sea – a city of skin and the young
remembering their loss – the radiance of white manifest in the cut of human memory – the
moment of breathing this is always the case – as it happens – close to perfect lives –
transcendental body horror – free falling beyond the flicker the talent of nausea – in my heart
this wall of hotels – the electronic God pain is humming in the sky I never was so lost my dear
love you slay me – up the road across the sun wet metal in a tube of red - cancer caught alive
in a wire I was so sick – dead immortal news twisted in the pipe lines – figures of beauty I ate
out my own eyes – I'm not supposed to kill to believe – touch to sight is a terrible pain –
believe the life of beauty – dreams in agony - a war under balcony skies – do I touch what is
real. Describe it – it isn't touchable
you've lost the meaning – you never got me – I never said it well – I'm saying it now – so
listen closely – it's almost a whisper – it's almost too much to bear – well, almost.

Chrome 2

Rain afraid to say rain // I am a little hazard // a hound // your so beautiful // but awake //
this is us //
2 a. m. screaming into a tree // the snow // afraid to say winter // underage //
undercurrent // I carry your shoe into the bar // jukebox plays ' last December ' // I have it
blown away two short stops to the equator and I'm equal to the room and every loser whose
in the mood to name a thing or two // ash shifts under the foot I'll drink until I'm him // you
hounded my life so I was never certain never playing dice for my clothes // your a tactful bitch
so sad I agree so unbelievable // my car is in the river // your dress is in the trunk // you say
“ let's go underground “ - but you don't have the right shoes and I'm wearing this bruise for
you – ash underfoot // twelve tattooes // black crow my window is above you //
when we feel we fall // right through the loop the cross station // stupid dialect // sensation of
one who has been written under // the felon in the ice storm // the long way // such a trouble
I feel to tell you we wont remember // what we didn't create // we wont feel // what we didn't
trade for hopeless occurrence /
I lick the scar under the eye of my reflection // gone // three // two // boom – so it isn't
seen // everything is lacking // the sun is melting under your tires // I write in this thing to
learn how to die //
and I will you know // learn //touch fire and completely lose // my side of the story //

You won't be reborn into this // you'll long for the vine but invent terrible long lasting melodies
// I do die // I do die // I need to tell you // I'm always about to die // say that // with a tree
in the lot death is good // I am always a friend // touch my face // I am into that sort of
thing // hit me there and there so I feel the iron // It's all over // ( It's all over ) // I knew that
// a hundred ashes a hundred songs //

Dying so soon as soon as you've been told // move along // I am moving so that escape will
be motion //
and we will be present for that // speaking with little worms in our mouths // it's a scarlet
history // every morning all the morning of our lives // where one has been pushed over the
edge one says
hoorah this is resolution // a moment it's always a kick // that past that humble past // rain on
me I am so sorry rain on the back fence // I am guilty I am so // oh the regret // don't pass
me forever // don't stray from the road // life ends // you'll find another // I'm gone // you'll
find another // little girl your foot // little guy your agony // It's breathing, barely.

Chrome 3

Here: here – is how this happened ( but I won't speak again - ) you'll say not teach me but
show // (map) so: that awkward is evident – had then gone – what I had is gone // will you
replace me when I go // go - ? come / go? Reason me that I have: I love is over // come says
she – but she will not come //
replaced is over // replaced is irrelevant // wound is not wound until you see // until you touch
inside and really cry and keep what I say: I say // Will you be me when there is no me? No
time again no him or you that anyone has heard of: of: heard said // good is love: good is
dead (inside cry) no nothing no last smile trap (trap).

“ exit does not exist / everything is eventual “ not from this far you don't say or ' it is
eventual, so I say'
which happens like war // but not because of war // the holocaust whore I meant that from
you // it exists (no context) in the heart – because love was piles of dust and no way was
which way we gathered or knew // for me I was so blue I was going under // at the end of the
tide // say tide // you bit me ' cause color ' // which girl am I? // don't I matter // color
afraid // color I'm color // anyway, color //

Too small I put not out of the elevation of prayer inside you blood from the mouth this
unfocused terrible poem under your skin I pull it out with my teeth and spit it in your face // o
now your collapsed.
Thats not so much. It takes little words. But lasts forever.

Chrome 4

You moved around in me so desperately // so without cause // not touch // you resemble
snow // when it touches earth it accumulates // it burns to ash on your tiny nose // so we
can't afford the truth // don't speak as silence will whisper // will rock forth and pull the tide
underneath the torn sky // up across your ankles // that moment // high line forced through
the enemy fade // I burn to death on the broken bed // I eat up the spaces // I catapult across
the circus stars // and collapse // reading noise into your eyes // I'm bad for you // but you
touch me like I'm an angel // a slow beat across junkyards // I'm not so important // all this
timelessness // back yard // shot // leaves for April // not return // not recircle the
wire for you // I'm down to the last number // through with collected evidence // my
sentences never find you // and that wont remember: as I wont do again // laid up for you //
a sorry map that draws the line where you hide your truth // I'm so good for you that you
don't even know it yet // I am weak in the knees // I'm crawling the walls of strange motels //
loosing track of time // loosing good decent sleep //
you goddamn baby // you'll eat your words // you'll eat your past // it will all evaporate and
take up space in your bones // when you die you really die // thats what I know // thats what i
come back with every time // clung to my skin // wont leave // wont shatter // once your in
the depths your in the depths forever // underneath waves trying to find the source // it
reaches the bottom and lets go of words // I am full of these things // little half truths // don't
really matter // so take me with you // I rode the wrong bus home // wrapped in a trap for
words // and scars of water under the bridge // back to the surface where the record of things
rushes under // the snow on the back of your shirt.

Dilation Of The Disregarded Pupil

For me //
this is for me //
so
I won't have you read
a single line //
It's not your place //

it's
written
with no intent
to bring you back //

when you go
that is
like a bad wind
you don't want to
experience again //

wont be dialing
any numbers //
no time for that soon
coming to and from source //

coming //

that is
no way
to refer
to the past //

this
is not reaching out
evidently //

not bringing space

to the
arrogance
I feed off of //

not words like ( ' spin me

around ' )
It's
a real
course
in how to
love
all these little plastic failures //

lock
with no
one out from under //

driven //
all
these
wandering
spots
to hide out in //

so far
I re imagine
your face in the rear view
feeling it ( I mean it ) no clues

broken mouth //

It's
the smell of crack
under the doorway //
your little midnight
surgery //
green a. m.
the rubber words
just hang off skin //
tether //
what I wont take //
no area
or gravity
or exit //
comes from a place //
fast
thats how it tows //
“ Give My Love to Eileen “

What was past

was really past
really happening so you could feel it
not above
but so low
for certain

thanks for the time

you bailed me out
with your new tattoo
3 am
rain in your coffee
my hands on your ass

Can't find the car

So I love to lose
and your scars sweat all over me
dead beat cafe's
sad
with wet hair
and winter stockings
licked you right up to the bruise
where you spread my name
close to your cunt

Heart is where it's at

though it wont look for you in a rain storm
casualty misfit
Hemingway halfway house for men
and girls under 26 who don't mind sharing a bed
and hot chocolate fingertips
sawing through the cob webs
I wrote you a song 4 years ago
but I sold my guitar so I could get high one last time
and drive off the freeway
and hand you the keys
( last minute I looked in your eyes )
and walked out into the field
Towards New Jersey
the red moon sunk behind tins of fire
Newark greyhound bus station
When Sartre said “ Go there “
we really did.

Log On A Chamber

Torsos never heard a gun

and rum will not separate
a dream getting away
never know that I was coming
then revolting

I'm going to dismember you

behind the door
So I get down
and hold my tongue
the way you saw it

they want their flesh like a wave

the dog isn't sick
over a wall your bull sessions
do you still want me
but no worse
eating grass
my disposal to blow out the fire

other in immaculate breathing jumpy memory

spasms resounding in her ear
corner of the public
gave birth to my dissolve
having a break down
no teeth yes of course
I was in underground
a gang of giggle

messages to give
lucky bounding blocks of stone
as if my body had a silence within
the shaky legs of seizures through the pipes
soaked flesh from below the deposit
then gone
wet murmuring outside the great year

welcome to paradise
my life today
root for the smoke
roads past gone into her mouth
a long time ago
the rest of the secrets
honey ball
in my name
is the fingertip
bring back the day...

Words Or Madness

The bannister's reflections looked like this

worked too hard warily away
my fuckin copperhead nightmare
shaky legs in the sky I thought
breathing herbal chains on the cut of the wallop
wanting to cry
don't know why a battle
I've got my arms commander
save my thumbs
holding tight

the string dropped

why are you looking
we'd cool our teeth on bunnies wine
lost your shoe
gesturing upper lip
the dance of light enough is long
great to the side a motorman's bell
edge picked along in one hand
nobody scared using maps to cover me
sea flames through the show windows
feeling born but now it was terror
bread and mandolins
the damn noise from slamming finally
hit the key triangles where used to be
trouble you avoid in the nest you don't remember
I want to spit me in two
Until my heart needs a mouth
a big long kiss dragging my balls
warily away near mirrors edge
a twitch of broken rug
I'll tell you what I want
let's paint the basement
and flex our boots under mandatory ahhhhhhh

as hip as the flickers watch linguistics try like brass

while stomachs ache like sad sea creatures
burdened under third time blood
milling blacks I'm thinking somehow
the edge of the loft will not rise
curtains caught in arms of smoke
I show you the rabbit throughout like teenagers shoe laces
our language is sand
broken by the wind
by nights more of this shit will be a surprise
city every time
the smoke is green
towards the left
turning but not yet turned
pen point moiled gray to lay on the floor
leaves rasped echoes rolled into gestures
ocean of concealed dreams
where carnivals rise out of sand
into a phantasm of pointed tongues
we are on the pistols riding walls lost
through the eerie nod
a poets influence on the dollar
noises from things eager to reach God
my face like
come city come burn

and burn you have

though I sleep
in refineries of green light
and deserts of strange methods
the heart will not erupt...
Sex Coo Darger

I break the rock our skin

filled with sand
into the plunder from this was
the children of drudgery
I've opened and passed
you strangle me
what hope
no way to increase

I use a knife
you repeated you wanted it
It was later
the beach rose like a tethered city
Polaroid drunks
over continents
and sometimes if you wish
through the margin of gloom
passes across haunted sky
not our fear of God

only this time you remember my mouth

acid
I love feeling your head
I move so fast
four times through the whole picture
kiss kiss kiss
I've never been fisted
cruelty
you can find them
brother wolf you betray me

poking out in me
a center from islands manic and frayed
it's a map
I'm a dead man
these words like the earth
my cum
purged
flickering off me
I wonder if your sleeping
I want to slobber over your nook
I want to see you
but I have to pay dues
maybe Shiki the cicada
rides
slides
fast food burning
little groove
my finger the finest creation...

Bad Poem 2

Security
mouth
my sisters tail
a lost song
a hill of bones
star
o little basket
full of hush
you’re a muscle
a sore cry
heard from every highway

plastic cups
bathrooms
in greyhound stations
in fallen coins
the sound of homelessness
we're really feeling it now
access tunnel
memory
mystic creatures
a jangle of keys

I spit on the floor

I blink my eyes
my whole life is pulled out of my pockets
identity in a wallet
rinse out your mouth
but every word tastes like a repeat
an alarming step
muscle clock
a house with no light
a light with no love

leave
as your going
I'm not hearing a single sentence
as often is the case
my mind is denying black is black
or moments are gone
if you don't say a word
the music isn't your music
love me like I'm 17
leave me like I'm slow to learn
leave me
I'm a creek of memory
I'm so uncertain
shaky
then patched up
sorry engine steam
sorry B -
It's lost steps towards the light
and nothing is ever so certain...

( The following is a text collaboration with the written works of poet Danielle Collobert. It is an
experiment in language, there is no title because there is no subject and no point of reference.
What words belong to Collobert are referenced by her initials D. C. )

“ It then – It – abandon of the impersonal – of the infinitive -

at last resigned – to embody – with flesh in pain -
to embody like the thumbnail – It then - “ ( D. C. )
Crossed over words – no end – no one point view -
it is eradicated – in a prison of terms -
loose touch – to build through the own self -
which owes itself to nothing -
and cannot dream of recollection -
go then – nothing saying like nothing is born -

Exactly – but one word only -

not a fixed idea – not something to remember -
desire is lame – try and say
but never correctly -
horizon is horizon -

“ it hears itself – in the end – last word -

last breath – its raised body – tries again to say -
stretches beyond measure – crazy extension -
in the end – maybe not – the word choked maybe -
in a groan – or the breath lost – long lost -
for the ear motionless suffering – without cry - “ ( D. C. )

Can't grasp – with sound – I hear and give in -

there is no fight – only choice with no reality -
word suffers under influence – bad verse -
because poets can't sleep while they write -
and so I say – and it is real how I mean it -
go find the middle and erase the end -

The same sea – lamb or quiet -

to that – in force – in “ ouch “ -
your voice doesn't pounce -
or scratch with need – so some light
enters a room – enters – thoroughly -

“ Opens right to the end – starving – to hear still -

as much as it hears – the voices in the setting -
their words – the world there – so near -
bodies close – to know in order to bear -
still gasping to say – to hear – not silence -
no – not silence – words still -
words against its lifeless body someplace -
wordless body - “ ( D. C. )
In me – there is not much – all been toyed around with -
wind is in the basin -
push -
records no records
your life is not translatable -
be put under the table -
be put – stay not in -
don't be regarded with ----------------
sewer cold – voices cold – city gone -
I am yours – a movement – a shadow -
a sound with no pattern – a pattern with no love -

“ Of speaking knows nothing – shut up inside the word -

bewildered pursuit – to fill in space and time -
time dead – space dead – whence the cold and pain -
second – minute – length of the gesture -
distance to face – to hands – to erase – to erase -
to dissolve there – could perhaps -
in the modes of the possible – imaginary incursions -
still - “ ( D. C. )

Beat my breath – solace – not handshakes -

no context – I sleep with injuries – across lips -
sitting in lap – waiting for the clock to burst -
and you never will -
that is lost – and really lost -

“ Last sign writes light last of the written -

walled up – tomb – behind the body of dust -
the imaginary written absolute -
a noun name – a noun name subject -
absent the body – no identity of any kind anywhere in the dust - “ ( D. C. )

So I am – am – am -
no certainty -
unborn is there – by beside dusk recurring -
I can't believe I can think -
commodities -
I like the look however it breathes -

You cannot love a destroyer -

man does they say -
daring me to eat -
to breath again and enter into life -
unmarked for a long time -
I turn – where is the sun -
behind me
the foreground
is withdrawing -
“ last paintings – toward darkness – a tiny point in the body calling mother -
physical distress – everywhere visible – from one end of the world to the other -
come and go – from revolt – to lamentations -
finally only music in the screams – enough -
hum of life all around – palpitation -
I open and I close – animal animal – tortured -
fear death – translating into body – writing -
my body in process of living its last moments -
body pulsing preparation – pacification - “ ( D. C. ) ( Last words before her suicide, journal )

Take me – not keep -

I want the sound of your movement -
where it doesn't live in a shadow -
bone – shell – three reasons -
bad storms – I love thee moon -
I love thee
because evil is divine -

this bad seed -

her – her – her -
walking not forward – not because -
I am crazy -
It is only a source among many -

“ Silence – a mute landscape mute body -

traded for articulation – the utterance its flesh at last inlaid in speech -
its flesh – in the flesh of the visible -
It then – migrated – transcribed - “ ( D. C. )

slip – you in me under mirror -

a surface in the beginning -
then confused
over whose voice
echo echo -
plenty lonely -
that is always ( any case, like speech )
complicates this text -
alive by bullets -

paper heritage -
why prescribe infinite questioning -
just knock on teeth -
murder the senseless -
thats why life is about avoidance -
what comes to that point -
loving your failure -
even to communicate -
to substitute -
to erase -
“ Unless red the wounds the ink – vital the incision
with which to write – if any is left – just at the threshold -
before the exhaustion – to open itself up with words -
unless resistant flesh – scarring over the words -
it muffles the sound of the wounds – bleaches its nerves naked -
plays on the sweetness of the words – hushed -
fixed in the white or taken from the transparent matter – for conversation -
forever harmless – intact – sheltered from time - “ ( D. C. )

when in me – you push forward -

ahhhhh you must scream -
to let the rusted ocean hear -
this is a noticeable pain -
It is mine -
I earned it -

What to do with this voice that doesn't work -

doesn't sleep when I say walk -
quiet -
not to be noticed -
not to be reconciled -
always wrong to the law of any letter -
scared but not completely without balls -
so jump
with no more poetry left but your veins -
with no more veins but your eyes -

“ Solitary banishment – disperses - expanding its body expanding -

into future – would want to live of it's own articulation -
the whole until the end – is hoping – hopes to be enough until the end of imaginary speech -
imaginary capture – to say to itself to the eye its gaze -
destitution of the being – extinction of images – no longer together the scraps -
choice no more choice – obstructed by darkness silence -
reduced to inertia sleep – leaves last the dreams – farts scattered words -
the contour lines – of easing – it draws the remains of coherence -
enduring patience of the recognition – in its ruins rummages – what it finds dissolved -
dust in the day – in the light – barely glimpsed disappeared the images –
remains the monoliths - ( D. C . )

carry the spoon – I am your icon -

falsely -
never sure -
so the mind loses focus -
until the focus loses reason -
I know what I say ( what I have said ) will be true in the end -
my sweet wounds -
this answers nothing -
not sure what a face looks like -
when not hampered by illusion -
distrust – by all melancholy -
my epic – this epic -
I have wounded -
every element -
am becoming the wound -
this
when it says -
it means every word -
It died for every word that was written -
won't come back -
wont' remember you as a friend -
this is the end of rationality -
all trust is over -
this being over -
it really is over -
done with it.....

Poem For B.

Live a house inside my bones

live with bones inside my sleep
don't tap your fingers
eat the walls
cringe cause names are awkward
and when you say each, love is murdered
having to put my foot into the stain
smoking in sad hotels with the lights off
skeleton porn
and race horse monuments
in the darkness in the tired rise of life
go away
gone

one of these moments

held close to recall
but the body doesn't remember anything
of it's own movements
recollections for the fire
fire for the soul
you don't seek much
blistered snow
road maps
caffeine on your toe nails

having to put life behind you

your mouth where your words are
echoed in empty subways
how I had a dream B,
and you weren't so cute in your madness and Benzedrine
tawdry
out spent
moments where the “ IT “ strove for perfection
tired sidewalks
ocean where my heart hangs it's erection on a nail
no sleep
the nerve is endless...

“ Here it Happened, Here it Was “

First place this was happened

not to
not always
little shot
make movements for the better
I wasn't always ( because it is recent ) afraid -
that I've fought
not to hit the wall
or
( is ) there options
I don't believe
I don't carry the proof

besides
no point
lost in every moment
where my smile
was a solitary nature
a monopoly of dislocated hope
happening
injury
all the places mapped out like a black stain
I can't find your tooth
it is only stars in my bedroom

caution
can't treat love like lost wood
not dig at the roots
sourceless
and apt to reason with everything we don't understand
bone brightly rigid for the lost smile
( or )
and isn't terror ( when we are terrified )
not to blame
for our lack of ( precisely ) to push through
( to )
this is an indistinct realization
poisoned by gratitude for the invisible

not reconditioned by the idea

a desperate call
I say it is love
from a phone booth
and that I will throw myself into the ocean
if you don't show up
to place your knee cap
in the palm of my hand
reached ( time flows out )
and the wind
is a pain through my ears
I'm listening for the last things you are saying
in the moment before we linger
then gone
( in really ) in -
a castrated light without place
where place has no heart
and heart is not the source of anything we are to believe in
against our selves
we will surface
on all the levels
we need to carry us once again into that disregarded time
where the source is convergent and total
let us pray
let us pray...
Ring After

Come across
lay yourself absolutely
one love
through many lives and times I have tried
screaming
under the complete ignorance
I have made for myself
of myself
what little I keep

drowned through the mercury

paper shirt
your name tucked into my 10 second huh
elsewhere the ground is weeping
all tired guards
whose way home is worse than others

might I am
was waiting for a resolution
to strike like gold
not have to work for the moment to come
as it hesitates
who am I
a born thing kicking out of spite
less security than reason
linger long the moment
I enter

through and through

no reference
it's the hazy line between no point at all
returning
from where ago
again
I was at the sea
a pathological waiter
whose tides were never turning
kicked aside to love the rinse

I masturbate with good intentions

hiding from the light
when awakened by snow patterns
through hungry dawn
I will be tired of you
that's the least I know
one moment removed
I haven't any oblivion
no sleep
life to give
When it comes
if it comes
while I thrash and wreck
what's wrong with isolation
when outside this motel is only more empty swimming pools ?
Sad sentence
this
time
it turns again
is the lost way
lasting road
paper tree
I'm all torn
between the things that wont remember me...
Ring After

Come across
lay yourself absolutely
one love
through many lives and times I have tried
screaming
under the complete ignorance
I have made for myself
of myself
what little I keep

drowned through the mercury

paper shirt
your name tucked into my 10 second huh
elsewhere the ground is weeping
all tired guards
whose way home is worse than others

might I am
was waiting for a resolution
to strike like gold
not have to work for the moment to come
as it hesitates
who am I
a born thing kicking out of spite
less security than reason
linger long the moment
I enter
through and through
no reference
it's the hazy line between no point at all
returning
from where ago
again
I was at the sea
a pathological waiter
whose tides were never turning
kicked aside to love the rinse

I masturbate with good intentions

hiding from the light
when awakened by snow patterns
through hungry dawn
I will be tired of you
that's the least I know
one moment removed
I haven't any oblivion
no sleep
life to give
When it comes
if it comes
while I thrash and wreck
what's wrong with isolation
when outside this motel is only more empty swimming pools ?
Sad sentence
this
time
it turns again
is the lost way
lasting road
paper tree
I'm all torn
between the things that wont remember me...

Ook”

Once inside
I'm bitten
by
too many sources

ripped
on the side of my face thats
still dreaming

I hate burns
and
roller skates
often
I feel
it's so fatal

God
I love it when
the
wind acts like a whore.

Hunkered
down inside the coil
what is the whisper
when it feeds it feeds
this way out
caught between alphabet and disease
what wont you say to me
collecting the clones
engines turn
their noise towards abstraction
dizzy in the galaxy
I lost
now am a shore of waste
where is a payphone
I can't shut my eyes
the end of critique
like
bent metal
under the bed
you watch the lazy dust
suicide
in placenta
rain drops

of course
of course

every whore
this is why I spin
and die
hoping to bite a strangers nail
where you place you're puke inside my pail
I came in you're mouth
and wrote you two dozen letters
and took my time beating off in your empty dress
I eat you're waste and am lonely
for all I have swum for

one in me
the cause doesn't matter
you call everything your god
but you only sleep when the moon is hidden.

I love the erasure

Dog
in the one push
fuzzy wind
sea exclaims
hell
you little magnetized shaker

doesn't
pain
preceed
salutation

I cost as much as i feel

energy
the size
of California sleepers

Once I bit the razor

from the dark
whisper
nerve
break chain
and invent
logic

so where
it's not now

a snapshot
I'm going through everything
kicked out of bedrooms
and bathtubs

one
slap
one good underneath.

Place your
God
where my heart
heaves
in sickly
gestures

Thats what you would call winter

Before
dog bones
and diners I would leave you in

some sad
kitchen appliance whore
who can't sort out her colors

one nail
and the hesitation
of a life

one life
not the kind that repeats itself

we are only ever faithful to the ones we harm.

That you can count on.

( too )
( and ) people starving early
will be ' on ' - is
his
other man's

trembling frame
as orchid

tendons hacked
fleeing camps
at night

a
center hurls
( just )
and
one's his quiet
the airs thin
falls
to be

to violate hearing as dawn

two
times that are placed
together
are
joined

rocks can't be translated

in elation
as a tiny child
I occur.
empty
moves
for angry smiles
I steady
think
you'll hear the last word
as my hands
committ lies
like a stranger
I mow through the dreams
steady
not so sure

And if I am bent
It is by
rape
and rain

lost
in the fray
and thunder
of swimming pools
all you put your weight into
like my mouth
you're breasts taste like rotten sunshine
Steve Forbert sang some song about highways and November death

I hate jail
but it feels good to hear the water drip
you had black lips
glitter on your knuckles
and soup on your mind
we were last in line
spitting our teeth at strangers
one star kills another

one moment
one going nowhere road
if you die
do it with
a sober word on your breath.
Not that anyone will hear
but Julia I told you
scars are only good for cheap sex

Do you remeber the carousal.

Do you remember serial killers in the month of may?

self replication
a double which is also empty
occur
in loneliness
do not meet up
closing
one's umbrella like the image

I suspect myself
being
circuit
coming under the dogs
the rib cage
the sliced face
in early childhood
I copied you're eyes

becomes
a
memory
reason / logic
experience
it is flat
the suicidal wide eyed
vanishing days in the cold

it's identity
an aftermath
come to life
a woman and a boy
it occurs to one
when not a child

I dream of you friend

either end
when I see nothing
I am only guessing
all bodies then
live
to the edge.
“Art School Girl”

no place
it
never wants to be
attracted
so you hold words
to the flame
but the will is shattered

disjoint
all accord
I hear
sound of jails
and personal wieght
shoved through
spooned out veins
and art school girls
with heroin fingers
that lick the wall
( Clara, I'm thinking of you )

clouds burned
through velvet
jungle
New York is cold
Cooper Union has no beggars

she
fist and crew
one hand
splayed
across
trees and space
alright
through death
and freeway
engines
blood
syllables
cry end.

( For Clara )

decks thick
lines crawling
one's brown
no night
coal tennements
yellow light
humps rainless moon
gorges
black ocean
who is the dark
by someone
seen again

this is not therapy

which is our sense
for there and there
rebelling is the obverse
breathing
in accelerated thin black flowers

Bending over it with whips

sky dusk
drawn out
balls hovering
obsequiously
flickering
through
the suit case of the blind ocean

a
clot
in the gloating
eliminated by darkness
you want to con me
thunder
rolls in waves
across the roofs of the city
train on slats
by night
that is reformed.

In them
inward life
no eyelids
coos
on the sagging hulk

slate
black river
a measure as space
yellow
spotted procedure

continue
to suppress sound
still living
killed activists on the street at dawn

boats
garbage
social seperation
Bangkok butterfly
black rose
of one

river and sky

in visible hell
cubicles
died
was innaccurate
as the dream.

cunt
with window
no
sigh

I linger
and lick
some
ancient
fist

a whore
whose cross
eyes
count
this blood

cunt
for cunt
ravished
in pain
by
gentle bullets
that
envy
you're great unknown.

clit
through
rust
puddles
and agonized
cities

one strip
to the death
of porn hustlers
and deep throat gag girls
crucified
to
California plastic surgery
and trailer parks
risen from ash

cunt
owl
sees
deadly storm
as it bruises
the bay
and speaks
the narrrow tongue

once you die

division narrows.
cunt
by
road
which run
is
slave

not
so
intense
I
bleed
and
drive
one arm
towards
Boston

the
thing
of life
in
wounds
and fits
I
break
catatonic
and spit shit
at bad poets
with
lazy
dicks
and
syntax
all confused

bedsheets
through
tennement
ambulance hallways
where addicts
live in glass
and cross
their fingers
waiting for a blow

God is gone.

God is preparing the stove.

fuck
slap
I drink confusion
and
burn
my fingers
hot
in basements
where time is stuck

go sleep off
the nasty
dog
noon
and
huddle
thrive

a
shot
through
the
eye and
a
peice
for the real lack of
words.
Post op surgery
I had a fist inside of me
It smelled like rape.
Little
tile
blood
on wall

squeeze
the
rag
and
lick
the stain

I often forget
that
it's
Abel
who killed Cain.
come
radiate
me

meaning
radiation

when your
sore
enough
to perform

the
heart
lays back
for
Jesus

clipped
by
wound
and
sour
tongue.

The
clot
that
licks
is
the
daze
that
wounds.
fast
foward
my
fist
inside

all
you
love

I
scum
to
thee

with
pitch
tooth
and
twisted
cunt

I
eat
sky
and
love
bunkers

bomb
or
porn.
still
the
first
where
your
hat
is
layed

gentle
spit
and
foward
lies

bring me
to
the
land
of
endless
film

where
go
water
to
bucket
of rust

blood
on
the atmosphere
of
the song.
This
be
hard

so
think
of
a
way

to
shut
you're
mouth
which
is
more
radiant
in
it's
silence

this
is
thee
nerve

not
I
think
some
whore's
quick
reply

so
you
taste
my thirst
which
began
as
green

this
is
thee
magick
which
creates
the end.

Fuck
it
to
thee

you
destroy
and I descend

bent
by
weird
wave
and
fustrated
Nazi
verse

every
mystery
has
a
bootleg
cunt

and
a
harp
of
suicide
tea.
If
yee
love
my
animal

taken
your
twist
to
my
burn

I
do
conquer
and
scream
you
quit
dope
is
envy

I
light
the dream

beneath
yee
pantomine
swine.

Fuck
star
so
cunt
you
know

I
hate
dolls
and
drug
punk
less
essence
is
burned
in pink
and
glow

you
favorite
so
I
die
and
eat
the
trail
you
blaze
under.

Under.

Under.

Cut.

Lover.

Borroughs incision.

Feti/puke.

Sleep
on
my sex

I
will
walk you home

when
it
rains
it is sacred.

all
things
sacred

all
things
cut
from score.

Ply
thee
burn

do
I
hear
that
sweet
abduction
you
cry

Inches

listen

things
blur

this
is
not
word

I
sleep
a
little.

Cut.

Here
here

cunt
through
sky.

say
blue.

the death following years // I aren't walls // hid like iron // no breath in the lungs // you
search ( every year ) for the pasted memory //
are you in mexico //
are you writing poems about the painful dilema of child birth //
I hope your not under surveilance //
I hope you bury you're dreams
and use umbrellas when the stars are out //
eaten //
not ( cause ) drive through //
in lonely 2 a.m. //
trains and stalled engines //
not eventual parody //
Alaska highway //
every bar and cold counter //
quarters //
jukeboxes //
losers //
don't be afraid of the bathroom //
so: ( snow )
never New York //
all streets ( parrallel ) surveilance //
ocean baby //
straight dream //
under bridges under overpass //
waiting for sirens //
twisted arms //
hurricane landscapes.
Just
when I thought
love
was a headcase

I
fell

and it was dark

you
laughed
I skinned my knee
people do dumb things

I'm human
which means nothing
you left me at a gas station
I wish I took the time to learn your last name

I
think it ryhmed with casuality
things
were dark
it made me happy
I survived
you're
dictionary
of my faults

Climbed inside outlaw slogans.

I've never failed you.

I
hear
the sound.

It's hard
to tell.
Just as a slowness this goes
and really nothing is afraid //
mention of words that hang the edge
rough when you wake //
basement sattelites //
( agony ) stars
so boredom //
plays the secret whore caught in love by accident //
you roll the years one across the other //
all of this re - appears //
one tragedy after the next //
you forget life //
you leave the tank empty //
strategies and dissapearences //
donkey dreams //
you'll love the part that never plays //
after this //
rooftops //
looking for proof //
it's a simple effect //
bored by indifference though clung to matter //
once ( sea ) and other things
I realize life through accident //
If you wake and you want more //
It's all there is //
I never pushed //
It was only ice //
It was only some sad lonely cafe //
police don't care //
you wore you're green hair
and drew the poems out of me //
I said " Life isn't effective "
you left no tip //
I stared at engines in Buffalo //
I counted stars //
I hope your happy now //
I drag my tail.
what you come across
it's
a shame

needle
by
love
you peroxide magnet

It's
so illusive
the
dignified thread

I
work
to balance
my cause

shape it
so
word is relative

ice fishing
and
everywhere
childhood
schools
and drunk lanes

I keep a pistol
for your blue name
I hear

it is the rarest sound.

one makes as breath goes

as body
turns

as
word
ends.

There is nowhere,
so much nowhere
to go.

what
is
everything

sad
solution

you
should
learn
these
sounds

one
for
animal

one
for
longing

sweet
after burn
I
doubt
your
faith

we
dissapear
with
bodies
with broken
words
with
eyes
castrated
how
long
until
the
arrow
bends?

How
long
until
you
trace
my way?

Isn't gone
it's
time
of
day

no
thought
ever
crossed
my mind.
deep
in
here
this is the cellar you should know

Another
world
discreetly
hanging
from
the
edge

my
glasses
to
the floor

can't
communicate
dumb
stuck

foot
in
accident

I
wont
be afraid

or
jail bait
in memory

I
hit
nerves
and caused
too much rain

It
was in you
to walk so far gone.

Gone
it's
funny
now

It
constitutes
nothing

all
I've
cancelled.

exits ( the ) door.

I do not lie
because

I do not say
for this is the reason

one
word

not
that
I was raped

that
was
so
boring
I
nearly
froze
my
head off day dreaming

I was spinning
in
your
fist
as
you doused me in flame

what
I
licked
I was allowed to keep
every inch
of
you're
dumb dick
and
blind
as I fizzled
in you're violating
canteen

worry not
I'm
over it.

For
this is the reason.

Spoilt milk
and
moody

moody

cut

cut

insert
you're
critique

now
this later

I am
always later.

you
keep me like a buzzard.

I
eat
the train
you're in.
I want the third degree
come on
deliver me
face to the floor

I was a child
and
I was a whore

I was in the back seat

while
you murdered bottles of beer
and told me to pray
for my cock to grow

Goodbye
to all that
I wasn't frozen in New York
like Joan Didion
sick to death

I was propped
up
on a carton of wigs
scratching the earth for worms
to offer to God
who safety pinned my cunt with his terrible
redeeming needle.

And tought
me a million songs
he knew I'd never use.
for this // all yellow // by - long highways // rooky posers in laundromats hanging out their
gold // such is easy // brick through bone // you'll come into my song through the pillow case
of my eyelids // hurtling secrets // crunching steel // I mistake the cause // here there is
nowhere // miles to nowhere // ( climb the coward ) ghost voice through power lines //
criminal bunckers and desert Malibu's // hasn't occured // I'll be you're daughter // I'll be the
incision you take to bed //
so much rain for a bad bruise //
hotel sink //
microwave highway //
service ( service ) it's a dream //
it's a washout ( to you phantom ) //
love not saying //
word to body //
rocks a whore's moon //
through creeper lagoons and empty plays that pound the stage //
proliferation noise //
come destroy my world //
with you're hand grenade cunt and icicle tail //
swimming in toilet bowls ( god's soup ) and skeleton days //
constantly afraid //
this way //
it comes //
going //
cut through //
lousy deal //
the plate of love is a synagogue of hell.

Does you're mouth still feel me on 42nd st.

so fit to play // paradox through infinity // I climb the wake up call // suddenly full of fits //
where rage is cream // and I am silent until thought is painful // no sideways here to wait //
no door in desert // no car in lanes of gold //
do you swear me from the sky //
I don't survive death well //
believe me, once I was a girl with tragic skates flung over my shoulder //
through the snow to you //
so old now I am afraid you wont remember //
can't be filtered either as dream or postulated word //
Once next
I am full of hell
and casul
to put you in the place where blood is scarred notion //
dress that was all you wore of my memory //
no clues to the past //
( be ) listen //
I have not the heart for truth //
so put you're shoe in my bruise and hover until the stars are as bored as sattelites //
It's a small moment ( odd ) but it lasts forever.
Whore is life
abundantly
flown
into
motels
by highways
where Johns push their ancient queens
through
movie star parking lots.

Love
where verse is corrupt
and prophets abound like the flood
teaching lies
through masturbated lips

do you envy my big cock

Go on have a bite.

fruitful
wings
of spasms
roll
in gestures
of horrified
glee

Who fucks the angel

gives birth to the dog.

And I gave birth to thee.

Distorted curiosity
humming
beneath
bedsheets of central park

where dogs
whisper
through
garbage
landscapes
the 100th hour secret

not to know
I sit
and ponder
this
ice
of neglect

while
hills
of war
erupt
to their very end.
Where to begin
this now is endless
with roads running both ways
and dessicated sinks
in gas stations
full of rusted wonder
under the ferris wheel of the north

I empty my song
into you're pillow case
drying off my bones
and fingernails full of DNA
where is love?
I know
this goes
and really does

Every
sky
that is settled
my landscapes
are filled to the brim
with you're laughing feet
and thunderstorm tongue

I destroyed myself
in motels
full of burning poems
I hid beneath sinks
travelling by bus
to rescue you're black boots

Isn't anything said

to do
to really do
not talk about events

Life is the aim we dream is going.

It is gone.

For once
in a life you've lived only halfway
close the door properly when you leave
mud
in fingerprints
behind greyhound stations
In skies of intense metal
I bless the earth
and every saint
wrapped around a pint

Purely
nothing will resolve itself
The camera is fused with tampered thought
who said " Love is learning " ?
I think it was
my imagination
like bad bread I am learning to walk again.
Have to wait
has to wait
dream like a slave
dogs are better to me
and live in kindness
the shadow you slunk away from

Never no prom
only dashboards
and early morning scars
where forhead
meets the light of your hand
and lingers
near forgotten North

I clung
and scratched
my own surface
to break subliminal complacency
and stars in eyes
where
hookers coo strange goodbyes
and interstates
recede through the timeless shadow
only to die in bankrupt motels

scared
I was awful
as was every cloud
and half gesture
I slept on the surface of things to imagine perfection.
Collected myself
run over
spoiled to the hilt
I believe in death
and I want your reason
to be my point and star

helpless in Hotels
flickering light
like a cosmic ghost
the curtains
push out with the breath of your name

Broken tree limbs

frozen cars
and cancer cops
I drink coffee in sattelite diners
counting salt shakers
and busted clocks

Whose love is useless?

Not the God of my building
not the whore on my street
not the dealer with his tin foil tooth
these are my friends
they're useless
but so am I
and we all dream of suicide
and driving cars off bridges
screaming hysterical insane
for one true word
to reach us

Extremely bound to the repeated mistakes of our loss.

keep me
lost in the nerve
thrashing
for // that was ego //
not reality //
spun a million different ways //

Until you meet the incision //

high in Central Park
pissing into your snow angel
my God ( the life of strangers )

diversion
occurrence
mouth to metal
I need // not say //
give love to life boats //

give pills to dreams

I'm comitted to the loss of focus
really // ( stars hustle for bone )

cold nights
filled with
waste basket poems
and a desire to get high
so slap // so go die for ( cause )

This aint no war //

It takes place in the heart //
It scars the landscape //
It tells time better than a clock //
and worries when your gone
Tell me what you want
everything with your fingers
tied tight across chains
my childhood was a blood stain
an awkward thump of stones
and rust
was godly once

As ( in )
suicide is normal
with that weird poem stuffed in your boot
I needed a sense of farewells
to study my laments
as much as my scars
why you empty ( so ) lonely stars
( is ) landscape ( unwanted )

afraid
lost in time / this thought
That if I loved
I could really communicate
but I am dumb like my memorys
like my sister whose bones I sawed off for a keychain
Unlike ( I am ) need to be extreme
spun
through timless wonder
and hearts of past
moment ( rooftop )
garden city
go ( Go ) -

bright
and unslaved.
Hans Bellmar
creepy dolls with a body of legs
outside my door

Oh Bellmar
you insane surrealist ( really? )

I dare someone to try and have sex with one of your tortured dolls.

Eeeshh.
Until I am dropped
from some
low
scuzzed out
guru's shaft

with a sad clock

and torn chair leg
grease hound
begged for early dawn

I will not lay down in rest

for
highways need heroes
dream ( cast )
this subtle
pull
of ivory mass ( rain ) injury

whose
total crash
bleeds the
microbes of ( ELEVATION )!
Headed for the start
tiny parrallel
and pushed through windows
up north
past Boston
past monuments
all ( caught )
drunk as ( these things )
take time

never energy
you push
( it's called birth )
it takes 20 seconds
off the day glow clock
Chinatown December
I ( of ) lowness
lurk
and cannot scream

It hits
like dry wall medicine
the lungs cannot hold
carnivals in their empty past
dogs in their borrowed cages
you are something ( to ) a part
where dream
is smallest frame
where frame is ( couldn't keep it to yourself could you? )

Now we watch /
it is waiting
that kills
and kings itself in loneliness.

silence is rest and full

it doesn't create loneliness
in either
in either horizon
or one
dusk evening meets early light
morning in a circle
but without time or night being in between

in that space there has to be a ghost

as that is itself eclipse
it's shred on it
is the arctic night in a circle of the black arctic ocean at the same time

being someone else occurs continually

entirely black
the necessity of not being oneself ever

in the grainy night is only

the gaze is an action not contemplative and soundless
black arctic ocean
and is in it
and dawn
one could ( only ) exist as that
say. at all.
camped
in holy wars
shot with stray memories
infested desert
cars and abandoned refineries

I ( be ) dead
hunting image
image is past
really

no one touches air

I hate molestation through media
order of the world
gas for ( so )
this hate is thin

I'm really dreaming

that poets would protest
not on the page but in the streets
while all they do is scratch their dicks and think of a way to arrange beautiful words that have
already lost all their meaning

fuck the poet

fuck his damaged love
little boys sleep without their limbs
people starve for meaning
in dumpsters
fuck the ability to create
( rather ) the ability to make ( Change )
lost on lousy poets in dread of an authentic fight
love I have lost
enemies they are numerous
there is no thread
the thread is artiface
the thread is the joke of talented cowards.

I see a light.
I see a door in a dark hive.
I see a million miles to the final shore.
now move your heart ( flutter time )
you wonderer's - when I say it's over it's over
now it's over do you love me?
it all ended like you said
one quick move of the hand is all it takes
I thought of you
rotting as I was
all events off the train
dusk gathers beyond the tree
that one solid thing
one movement all shadow
the text gathers here: waiting
enter me: I am parable not orifice
blue inside the mouth
annhilation does not is not word I have come to be announced forever into ( ears ) of blind
universe
blended color came easy
say foward but don't mean motion ( ever )
I wont mean this by and bye it is doing
having both: love and end of the world
Blue dusk blue blue ( only ) dawn
hasn't heard
isin't meaning: retired hostility
repeat sentence
into my mouth cum give it all to me nothing ( nothing ) surely nothing
when this was the same as all ended
discharge
not sexual ( poetry ) not that
erotic as in darkness does not follow any word that you say
having said is over.
If I was wasted life
( and I am subjectless )
what would it take to be able to sleep
winter radiators
hum with injured songs

I can't rationalize
life is ( barricade )
subsumed
landscape
where I thrill

in dawn
it is all a hideous parody
I am rewound
surfaced
for minor injections
the tooth you pulled me through
into gas station sodium light

never
this is never
all charity bound like a strict word
cut by less and less integrity
go ( I )
streets forever
walk with hunger
bullets in eyes
trains filled with salvation
rust is the wafer
give me bruise
I am bad because God is only transexual parody

I give away
I tide to the final shore
broken
magic
scraped by wood.
Bones through sides
I am paradise
swinging
hateful song
do what you will

I am in the woods
counting cars

motor
poetry
shoots heroin
into stars

What are you waiting for ?

push me through the window
I won't laugh
I promise
It can't redouble
all words
cancel their own self
we burdened

life is no answer to pain

lock my door
I'm bleeding scissors
that smell like your garden
( garden )
dogs for tommorrow
catch the war
every television eroded
my whore
I watch your thighs give birth to my memory
closer
I am through the iron
in dirt I am laughing
we are not lost
we are never lost.
pray
for distortion

before
revolution
it is in a box

hunted
by fire
you speak
but nothing is said

bones wither out of commission

so storm
percentage ( of ) nothing to nothing

the system will not break

stones will be thrown against yourself
crying for cyber justice
as the network is frayed
with commercials of hypertexual success

pray
for the anatomy
of desire
here to die
it longs
with it's breakers fisted
against the codes of war
which wears erratic nature
like a poets badge
you bleed honor
but have never felt death
I am awake for the journey
where the dark sleeping heart takes a wrong turn.

I am never wrong.

isn't important // taxi gone // ate the light // these scars // empty buildings towards nightfires
// empires under city bridges // uncle you are a nightmare // I wait for you // sweating
through the teeth // bullets for brain bad days I think ( no motion ) // isn't scream //
back ways // truck engine whore // important to me // what is your transmission on the lonely
FM // celebrities born in a black market // I hear you // voices frayed // nothing said //
I wont dream // I wont dream //
dreaming dead ( I love my rags )
I cough up bone //
do not sell me //
I hate your tags //
tin cans on Coney Island on 2 a. m. on stilts of shadows torn with goodbye rain //
blue display //
horizon //
you score nothing //
junk in my needle says " I will love you forever " //
loving is a pit //
no parable //
I'm sinking through telephones //
veins collapse //
( in ) search of the great ash //
motel doorways //
muttered in sleep //
( slow ) the lights are God as empty //
blue days stagger the drag //
repitition breathe tube to turnstile.
one is for the strive
a person places
like bee stings
on horizon's cup

empty barricades
tooth alley
and I hate my streets
this urban over brick over ruined faces of devastated mornings

come through me
each parable
a burning turn
ferris wheels and thunderstorm sex in the back seat
I was pulled from Brooklyn
into New Jersey at 5 a. m.
blitzed out interstate
wrapped around stars
come to the point

I can't realize truth

from the distorted
elements
where time keeps building it's rust of wounds
to hound me down
for all of my artificial kisses.

Amen.

A thousand nights.

Amen.
each is a morning
buried
not burned
for ( photographs )
I want to eat your bullets

my train answers to no one

hating forever
my mouth wont move
I've terrorized the landscape
now
I need to die
I need to put it to you like this:
everything
I do
has been for the rope burns
and catastrophe pills
plundered
I am not reasonable
and certainly
only bored
striving for an exit
a man beneath me
only raping stars.

only hearing sound.

to which way I go
weary
for no final time

no certain shore
that isn't born by razorblades
that wasn't born by me

this is why you never should of introduced yourself.

gone in body
is forever ( noise )
finger wall //
isn't
going for silence //

broke
a sun
with days
parrallel
to longing

motel fashion
television fuzz
the pornography
of no information //

bleeds the highway

for cycles
( exit )
no change ( darkly )

hidden
white ( every ) weeping
gesture
translucent
now for ( now )
heavy rain

this sceane
where ( here ) beach
washes stains
while ( ought ) to stalk
silence
is ride by
driven

for meaning is useless

voice over
the track of
( here ) con
one's mind is only
a moment
( difused ) learning //
beaten breath //
my death is baby water
it toys with breaking points
asleep in the head
roach of severed dreams
I Jerusalem in my suicide
after
always after
and flatter than a cunt
couphing
every lung is tied
to lampposts with cameras in their bones
dry and tired in the socket
where oceans grind their cocks
in a song
I licked
when I was sick
and radioactive //
a bad omen
a month of pain
with warehouse eyes
dead is good
when I'm stuffed in a car
with a candle light tail
that sheds its skin and shame
as it shoots for the most distant star
a bone in the asshole
which throws a fit
and is terrified of corners
where the staff can rape you
and eat your shoe laces
but they can't pin hope across your wrists
which are dying to be split
like the grin of a damaged God
for good
I am done
a tape loop
unspooled
with busted teeth drinking the wall
the truth is
you are only loved
when your nipples are as cold as gold
sleeping dog
yawn
for I am really ignorant
and know only how to do this one thing.

- for Anne sexton and Sylvia Plath

eat away ( many ) now // one house // one hill // caught if any // by the roads ( stalled )
sign // reaches day // no word // no since // silent ( all ) pain // if there be an afterwards //
shaken // on all fours beneath me // hard day // sattelite // broken from sky to spine //
overtones ( hid ) battered frame // we search the elements // matter over matter // gone gray
// till we die from lack of sleep // from open windows ( and ) fire secape sex // 2:30 diners
piled against snow // it's human skin // I swear // it's global dollars ( ash ) now listen:
you go to here alone //
caught phrases and telephone curfews //
bent //
except the whole world waits //
for silent entropy //
the dissapointment in God //
fallen into parking lots //
screaming body blows against the machine of light //
hands in mud //
I ply the words ( out ) of highway cadavers //
city is gone to ( really ) no more //
empty gas stations and bus depot ( of ) furnace through the gates //
okay //
it's hating ( why ) long for your teeth to speak //
true word //
no one is laughing //
the city ( is ) a weeping stone //
car lot //
( subtle ) //
to rise //
this glitch // one go // hyper nerve beneath // settles stars ( to ) bone to bone.
field over laid by darkness // a state of night suspended - not involved with the scatter of
( hallucination, daylight, sound barrier, road, ) all there but inhabitating it's own space // story
// this happened // so the pen traces a path towards occurence // nightly - alone - so the
character ( I ) is isolated - not being spoke to is equated with masochistic sexuality - not really
( ever ) that //
so it refers to color //
the way anyone enters a room is through color //
dying becomes the same as entering a room //
but death is colorless and so something in the transition is removed //
( clatter ) move again // lived but not lived ( in ) //
so saying is missed.
easy with excess // whose waiting not speak a word // gone is road every path that ( born )
me // gone every hope to radiators busted ( loam ) through size sinched to death // ( by )
proxy the heat of whores // my light in the light of eternity // gripped by pockets in sinking
( notice ) I hear nothing ( fall of stone rattle ) in a birth of cages // knocked through skin //
way to here // there is no here // be not anyone ( born of my past ) // saturated by the
whip // sailed for envy // the spite is blessed // dripped through holocaust hooligan tunnels //
( I ) rise // lifted by toss ( to ) toss //
broken in every inch //
colors bleed nomadic ( shadow ) O God where is the ( lerch ) // by what death? don't call my
name // beaten to a post ( that ) won't remember //
collision //
sodium nights //
one hill wont bend //
by these tides - ( a ) cavern goes deep //
wire to wire //
the blank mesh of words //
how try ( to kill details ) //
anything longs to groan from the push //
( dug ) //
strange helium //
flashed in night //
by roadways going nowhere //
damage lurks //
heavy breathing and silent air //
dreaming //
( fisted )
red radio //
tower of my song.

Then cunt crawled

over by-pass

searching for asshole

where honey hides
glued in gold
by chinese warehouse

2 a.m.
slut could die in freeze
it's her cold choice
I was layed into her
by degrees hunting for veins
to stick a needle

poison
I hate God
whose bitch wont quit babbling
everything I have made I have made for thee

well cry the piss

out of my tired
eyes

dog cunt
I need a God to whore me out.
tossed into the unbearable future // ahead of time ( is ) wasted // where was ( I ) // not in the
valley // aware // with everything mighty adjusted // whose got love for now //
person to person //
I remember the ( sound ) of your fingers //
tidal ether //
packed like bolts in the skin of bridges // the artifacts of memory // come ( gone ) no
silence // away // every friend is wasted // every room is changed // here to go //
the nap of every union // converging agony // this landscape is not the same // the post of
1 a.m. // when I slept I slept for longer than memory // which no longer remembers me //
a lost town //
lost cause //
raw juke boxes ( junkies bones ) // let me guess ( ? ) there is no right or wrong // just endless
board walk // into water // into a death of dust // sorry ( wont ) cut it // I've been there
waiting // like a child bruised on every knee // I had no faith when I needed it // blown by
atomic waves ( into ) shadows of my past //
empty as a drawer //
torn out by paradox //
I have been ruined //
reborn //
by a thousand mistakes //
cuts which make good on their promises //
( tommorow ) //
gone
past the hills steel gray
ferris wheel
time when I was imbued with numb infinity
counting cars

since nowhere is still nowhere

I draw a map for you
consisting of my skin
and a collection of scars
this road is warped
I have dreamed of anatomy changing

nothing and no one

I am strapped to a bullet
pulled through a straw
into the record you keep
of time
and it's whore's
who love me like a god.
accidental
thrust
in wave
where red eddies
cold foward stunted
a steel gray
hoaxed into the middle

by what
is ( eye ) burn
the ember a sad laughter
justified
in it's coil

the toll is wasted

petrol germs
under the Brooklyn
where lovers fist
deranged by paradise
and saturated stars
a red in the flux
go ( martha )

tunnel
to Tunesia
flower wound scratches wave
where toss these forms
( in ) shape
to love death
a back door is left open
do you bleed?
do you bound towards the great open?
with your stomach a blanket of fists
white germs dreaming of the demented hour
betrayed by a poet.
betrayed.
bent by words.
you how in wind that attaches itself to a patch // and yes at the start over this page // the
meaning of ( the ) tone ( we will be ) // meant: looking back seems to rise // however it is
important // the upglance version // shedding the perennial noon from here I'd say: upper
stories thrown against ( dirt watching ) oh swim // ( jettison ) // the cry is empty // there is
identifiable remembering // transmitted by the invincible // the trucks on the highway
( however small a catastrophe ) making itself higher // where the sway ends ( half - hearted )
by stations and a lower duration // screamed against the dragged out breeze // you must rise
beyond my look ( deviation ) you must rise ( a new concept ) here is the road to the human
ear // I feel a strand between us ( a random debris intertwined ) // people are buried
( exactly ) // also extensive: the idea of progression enters the dream // waiting at this
speed // where is love ? // as if the whole world has forgotten ( we cry through our necks ) //
it is DNA which lives longest // such an elaborate exhalation bringing it's birth //

garmenture then: Im in the corner like a dusklight listening to the scan // one two // one
two // what can be said: how even lurching mends the ( metronome ) do you understand ? //
and the atom ( face me ) because it can break // the miles of nationhood: no end // count my
ribs ( now oscillate ) the small hole inside ( imprisoned ) but don't think it // what tongue did
you hope for ? A fourth wall // I am literal ( barren ) a sequence // this is what articulates
more than almost // It is the second stage of life ( it is litter ) // sirens cracking the
( granular ) ..... like a red stitch: interogation // where have we gone ( ? ) all asleep and
human dark thinning // I think I expected ( you ) to come ( to come ) // who knows what the
world wants // a thousand maybe's ( dear sentence ) // you've read enough now // my words
are terrible ( paper even is blistering ) // and cries on our century: nothing will come of
nothing // the isolation: I can teach you that // all together in your exhausted hand // the
name precceding you underneath // learn the slope and then you must reach through.

mesh
or bone
high wire
music
singed through bunckers
of radiated mirrors

while
desperate sings
where wave washes
temporal eclipse
under the nauseated sun
eating prints

no proof
estimated
a gone delicate spun
nigger horns
of grub
plastered with sound
a year under the screen
biting static
and drinking the spliced image of motel signs
neon stomach convulsion
paper dome
these hates grow
into the mouth of May.

fire walk with me

the dog is laid

the bone is a price

which ( war ) is never waged

on final shore

my debt ( to ) laughter

it will hurt to die

not that it wont feel like a kick

when toes blow

and hit the tender nail

bucket slain

for storms never rage

in the infants drain.

the dying air

is so thin

shoe horn blazed

hounded

take a leap

this is nowhere

only pattern without reason

( for ) rain

only ever

the drought

and too ( go ) not arrive

who seeks burns their jeans

on spliced image

of resurected death

not pirated to the last cause

but puked in ( God )

have say ( no ) word.

where ( is ) what I am
lost under rock
born to the stone
the beautiful ( aren't ) watching
in peep shows
of holiday whores

whisper
no one wakes
in this dream Hotel
I drink paper wine
from flask made of stars

the theater is closed

all of the naked dogs have gone home
wrapped in their gold
hit by ( heroin )
in the messy vein
perculates candy fizz
die on brain
I want to die
soaped in cause

my blanket brain
my stupid street
I ( eye )
no more
dri[p]ping tender
love [ is ] a leak
lost on the screen.
[ birth ] of tongue

flame sheathed

round [ opulent ] god

high from narcoleptic [ sle[e]p ]

don't puke

you know I aint angel

when my cakes [ cre[a]m ]

I am so slow

to core engine slop

naughty here

sheets twisted

spasm by wind [ hun[t]ed ]

finger write [ this ] is hole in wall

where we creep and shit

punk suds

thee awful god

I wine in the t[u]b.

when I was born
I ate my vows
refracted
days slid through haloperidol windows
sick as a heart
I took the fruit like Adam

choked by it's vaults black tourmaline

pulled up the net
her face is the sun
teeth sweat thick
I will be dead

empire of ten thousand years

I will travel
the madonna of pre - dawn light
my belly lifts towards Pollack museum

give me a dress to wear

I was never a girl
clap your hands
disbodied cicadas
I will still reach out for you

cloaca
vitreous
I am afraid
a scar like a map
saliva sullen clouds

hollow as a pulse heart.

waiting for a dream to come

flash backs on that desert
litter of bamboo
I am a beast
that's not song or story

pairs do not occur

skinheads
surrounded by the people
hyenas
calm inside
to base reality on this

impinging dreams in flickers

burning ghat
sleeps at night
in the city middle black butterfly
gelatin stocks
I am a flayed man

giving up
the lips say
a thick green
cry for existence
public itself
the eye in the liquid
shaved paradise vaulted

floating immersed on it's yellow cord

the serial novel gutted on crack
coiled emerges
snap shots of souls in smoke
immense the face floats
an accessory
neons and billboards
wandering

our connection to events

blue cries
blue for more blue.

wrecked car
the ocean breathes
not much that I can do
waiting for storms
to tear out walls
where the mice eat my dreams
unsatisfied

Have you heard me

wail
brutilized
by winter
alseep in the head
I can't wake
full of bullets
and porno magazines

teeth
[ not ] answer
I slave to hear a word
a single strand of what you do not say
you have not said forever.
almost
torn open
through backseat windows
drudged from the past
an empty city
having the form of laughter
not laughs really

so says
when I was too young to speak
I ate the words
of forefathers
and inbred nightmare recalls
a skip on the horizon

needle for tooth

catacomb kitten
a space for empty profiles
nudging the zone
I am terrified these virtual bodies are trapped in cyberspace forever
spouting their hopes
to plaster lonely refrential dreams
on the cross we've come to bear
the hounds of the light house are placated.

fling
sift
lost motel's scuzzy blue
road
never lifts
against dreams
flayed by nails
her tongue
my mirror
over
and over
until the momentum cracks
and lethargy burns
a callus in the throat

signs
hang in silence
wearing the scars of a year of desperate stares

engine
cranks
to the low winds.
This is my actual life
no more pain
the jackpot
this is how it tells itself:

I never got any ticks / tunneling under the door / the trees are tremendous /
consumed by dubious eyes of the local hustler / under these trees I felt the luggage of
people / less hum we waded through / nothing believing sand flies for fifteen years /
started this story you can't drink / who owns a finca near greasy dance joint /
yoka grows on high ground / trek through virgin old time junkie / the inner bark infusion
squeezed / dirt floor thatch out of a federal cop /

hideous strip tease with a chair / last five days on a bus ride / fish tails over night /
silly talk / on the boat in the alien corn / turkish boys with auca pricks / awful dump /
I travel light / mountains and a sluggish river not a locked door /

Nothing can move in to hold us

because the brightness has gone
that place where I am erased
and still be
glances promised by the franchise.
Eleven in the market / amuck / amuck / tape recorders / you can call me bartender /
cargo untouched / how far? /
furniture papers strike a toe / old glory premises seesaw snatch /
you dig? / I am most efficient /
like a brown egg / the barrel is in Seattle /

consider every way is mysterious / a pajama tarantula exploring the ugly spirit /
elevator in the small orange cat /
crater city and the camera is placcid /
spanish walls with calm authority /

bottle of some red colored chisel /

a time ago chinese food rag menacing phalanx /
land in oriental listens to metal / dead room where I am /
no typhoon from a fart / only automatic do it easy /
I turned a corner and padded my words /

fifteen feet of dripping horrible stink /

hello says 1912 walk in closets /
I am waiting for a server / come straight to the point /
is a way of books to fumble dustpans /
pop singer with blood / jagged old movies /
carnival infection / I yawn with muzzle /

who shot the dutch shit /

detective / detective / Oh mama mama don't tear don't rip /
cold twinkling wise monkeys / neon ejaculating /
her tits pop out like a clinch / toilet of my young legs /
everything is a key / gob of an old ghost.
give me a skin
a shatter beacon
of hazard light
licked across pavements
and Hollywood lane
dark car
a capsule to ( die ) fizz by love

crossed
in empty crooked alley
sleep near scraps
Selby Brooklyn
howled out moon
my keys are cooked in a pie of sound

Lantern light
my fatal bruise
itch
like an engine
turning lost phrases into gold abduction.
The poet should never eat of his own death
though he might be tired
of the sourceless word
and many years he has gone
unrecognized by every bone he moves
across uncaring audiences
and virtual mongers who whore out plastic concepts wrapped in their gaudy gold
I never bought you're sugar
I only stared thinking " I can do better than this "
but there is no proof
that I have stained anyones mind besides my own
with a poem for torn socks
I wear out
and can't go on

But one must

It's all there is
landmines of misused words
and miles through empty theatres
stay alive young poets
don't cut yourself with blades
don't count on the stares of others
wander in you're nightmare
hip to the fact that it will take a million years
and a ton of dead roads
before anyone will say: " Good Poem ".

ruddy wardrobe
morning coats
wings pass through arrival of the world
rather the day lacks instance
a picture cannot play it's part

it burns in deafness
which won't let in a single molecule
the scream of lifted rain taking possession
on the floor a ribbon of objects
in pain with eyes

anchored by a pile of used waxed mouths

and also ( and also )
I give the horrible to the inscribed poets
that they might lease my genius for there own sad pornography.

her face a living stain

then the pavement spreading out into the straightback
bastard shore ripped with mud
a glass egg suctioned from the hole
less into the invisible of the mothers cunt where an eyelid opens
of your world
your flesh
I implant bugs inside your ass
searching for the heaviest book
the pause has no concern for the grayish stuff

dreamed by paralyzed veterans

sold out
at a crawl to receive the jolt
of pennies inside tin cups
the subways were filled with this kind of poetry
the instant place: but of what?

she's the scream

no, she's the drown
the second night where parts of wings are torn
Now I lay me
I try to feel you beneath the immaculate spot
but you've stolen my orgasm
and stuffed it into your bag of crotches
transmission is the anchors face
are you listening?
this is the seventh hour.
you must believe me
this blue deluge
broken stones numb
in wounded spheres
back into the life of limbs
bundled
a cross station

deserts of non - form

reluctant to be born
without eyes
where cycles finger the inertia
sickness in the arcades pointing

possibility far seeing

herd on [ red ]
black dusk
torn in minutes
of fibre limp or lag
beneath words.
tight knotted dissolving
not only where
chill glinting accumilated
sucked around that cry

pallid tensile hand

river glint
carried miles
down imperial highways
please dont offend God

circle holds the violent homocide

the frame of skin
ventriloquial evergreens
puked in high noon
the back bone of the transfer

upon tracks
wheels inform the illness
extended but not touched
stars under the edge of command
by doing your mind becomes you.
What I needed for my orange trees to grow // ( internally ) // but nothing listens to need //
listening has no speech // so I can't say: involve me in this // tell me where it hurts
( between the knees ) Oh don't be contemporary // poet's aren't intellectuals // Intellectuals
aren't poets // there's a wrod that needs to be said and it can't be said by them // velocity
so // so // I like girls // I like their tiny teeth and their tiny wrist scars // car wreck car
double //
through your panties I saw I sought I waited to bite through // car lights on car lights off
empty roadway I dreamed of hesitation which isn't easier // return // no // left over //
engine's or sea or caught in the cage // she's always thinking " my life is over " // how can a
life that has no terms be over // so everything is until then // every cause living without it's
matter // and no one here is afraid when they say " it's because I'm dying " // which is natural
so the fear is evident // not having a source // it's always easy to say // but to believe is
unmistakable // engineer // which was word for love // meant something but at 80 miles per
hour you couldn't say what // say only my motive became sexual // that was expected // but
wasn't put through // teach me // not teach like I would learn // but send it through me //
highways can't be love objects // so you account for me // account for dust //
how it breathes back off your skin // we don't push we annhilate // we subsume or, that was
past // what could happen now // Peter Pan stays ordinary // all pirates return to youth //
trees out of breath this winter will not occur // even moment or spot // night stops // your
face returns to me //

returns to my beat of word // carefully my disclosure // waves a hand at you // nothing is

goodbye // nothing is hello // so nothing could be that // be dripped all over house I was being
so blind gives up which creates causes out of phrase turns // so the window can't be the body
double // it's just hurled all over plot // cause the extension is personel // so we're not afraid
to admit that // ( one tree removes another ) // the term ' try harder ' is useless // we make
no assumptions // this would be because the writing is starting to not matter // and
that is not sad so we don't perfect or categorize it as an essence // boys who are blue have
crushes on girls from photographs as you move your eyes across spaces // spill the serious
gesture // that will be ocean of sound as it moves hesitating // afraid to go home // not
knowing identity // it is playful trying to understand it's own existence // so // alone // so //
cringe: the word isn't // it becomes alone // so // careful // I am not a verb // I wait like the
smoke in Detroit // parking lot // careful don't destroy // so: alone becomes love becomes
don't play the dressed up doll // cringe // in a house like love // so // so // I am alone // until
January // wait: until you can come destroy me // I will be waiting // like a bad omen things
matter // like a deserted theater things are blank // are cursive // out of thoughts - arranged
performance I am a junky so it seems like I am searching but am not apart of the search //
we don't judge // so either // we reconcile // we move around empty field like thought // so:
although darker // it is getting wired so it resembles night // scrawl // crawl // the baby of my
story // the hurt of my 2 a.m. it isn't happening // to be around to be mentioned // what are
the words? // not summoned // like I to love heartache // the bathroom stall // inch by inch //
they're pulling out the core and replacing it with theory // which develops slowly but with no
difference // so a few hundred cattle fill out the plaine // red on every grain // I am dust in
your mouth // injury dragged over nosebleed much word before scrawl // crwal // ocean data.

I had a name once - I had a face and hands that could carve names into trees encircled in a
heart - the corn fields grew taller than me - the sky pumped it's blue juices over red fields
circled in dust and deserted lot weed - old up-turned machinery rusting under the sun - poor
bastards of future compfort and convenience - O lord you whip my eyes blind with a dark
storm - I can't gather information from the alley - jagged edges come release me - straight
onto the southern highway - rain telephone wires loose cables grayhound bus station - I'm
giving you information straight from the fields of disaster - remember - the lord when he said
" let there be light " - we are in the dark - baby - forever and ever - in the dark - lonesome
highway leads on forever - mazzy star, cowboy junkies on my private radio - all futures fade
into dust - and wash out of your eyes when you awake - storm o simialar storm - dark forest -
night train - be here with me for this - alone - by the road - two cups of cofee - a scar for a
smile -.
The text in quotations are verses of Leslie Scalapino from the book R-Hu.

Jenny wears a dress. Hails a cab. fucks police on the corner. Snuffs bulldogs. Has slow leak in
panties, bad pipes, wheres the plumber. Her grandma is a mugwump. It is snowing at 3 a.m.
on New York boulivard. Jenny is sitting in diner on west 53rd smoking cigs and burping coffee.
Her lover Pete, who is a taxi driver and narcoleptic, is reading Camu and playing footsie with
Jen. " Cut it out " she is pissed. too much black snow, so bored. Nothing but noise on juke
boxes, slow sad winter, no exits to Brooklyn, no cabs full of magic dice. Lottery stands and
slush, Jen hates 3 a.m.

" I left the room feeling i was having a heart attack. Only horses live in this land.
The flat green surrounded by the lit domes of hills which are as if underneath it.
As is the mountains and flat floor were submerged under water when that isn't occurring,
isn't visible. A colt is so young. They walk together, on his elbow, on the green floor. "

Back up stairs above grimy chinese restaraunt, Jen undresses, pees all down her legs, fixes
hair, fucks Pete who has gone into one of his narcoleptic slumbers. Snow hit's the window like
pornographic fists trying to climb into the room, and take a dump in Jens shoes. Night turns to
early morning, bathtub full of ice, heroin wall toilet paper madness, shoe string mattress, torn
dress, Jen in red slippers, sucks cock of dog. Dog cums in mouth, tastes like Virginia highways
at noon and is a little yellow with doberman pee.

( " The segment from hmmmm was a dream which I did not distinguish
in that writing from event, is only an event as any other in real time.
It has a woman with a snout in it.
In the real ( childhood ) event I'd noticed someone wasn't human.
Then hmmmm is a feminist work, but not proceeding as doctrine. " )

This could be the poets penis. Jen drools in sleep. Nothing is clear. all fuzzy and no image. Still
alot of snow, like rapists talk shows blowing through the atmosphere. Pete walks around
muttering like a pig, hairy chest, ice cream balls, taking pictures of sattelites on roof tops
covered in Decembers sadness. Covered, but not submerged, Jen sleeps like the sleep of dogs
who realize they are lesser angels, sprung from the ladder of time. And vying for purpose.

The End. Not-to-be-continued.

First you are born // from terrible theives // overpass // the system is forged // what were
your hopes? // allah gone // in dance clubs drinking neon through a straw // careful on your
toes // your not so cute you can't be swallowed alive // by cops and by-lines // motel
station // in my puddle // I suspect rats // in the helium // crazy // through eyes of a storm //
desert // trapped // where the limbs wont work // the poet's mind fights for it's life //
difference // a color // how for how: you drift // blank captured the will sighing out it's
purpose // come to the point // where love is a highway // packed to the brim with secret
gardens // and doors that crack in the night against tire swing nightmares //
enemy stars //
cloaking dead machinery //
felt // by the pull //
the wounds are plastic //
my hands are plastic //
to the factories I'm looking for death //
at the edge of town //
rusty river // ( red hook ) snow //
the cream of the crop //
hate their poets here //
what we've done to them //
with our words //
strangling them in their coffee cups //
trying to get by on the hardest burns //
This is for my life //
the tight rope is suicide //
listen carefully: if you are not blind go blind //
if you believe in God exit the station //
no one will blame you //
your mind is a lobotomy //
your bad bruises are love //
inflicted by circumstances which have led to here //
the wounded site of life for no sake //
every fault which leads me to the edge of my last breath //
one two //
nothing looks foward to being born.

If there is a need to die

it comes from above
shout through the skin
echo holy booze
when I frig myself in bed
and become a verb
saturated in postmodern barbituate
blue
veins ripped

I am a relapse
hung by my balls
teeth in the eyes
of my blanket sleep
whore if you love me
read me Sartre
while I widen the cuts on my thighs
for years they have begged to be completed

I will you know

throw away the years
four of them
which mean even less than a strippers kiss
routed in the gutter
bones killed
god you are nothing
I empty the empty
stranger
I end with a pause
and sleep
and suck white noise

hell is a television
with horror sex
oblivion fuzz
ego is thrilled
to not care what caused this awful decline

the decline feels best

when something tight is wrapped around your arm
and the vein is beginning to show
a needy mouth
among a dozen needy points of the flesh.

I have lost a few things

not about snow
when blizzards ruled Yonkers
and irish bars were a dome
but the enemy of silence
which rules by how one perceives
now
the use is enemy to action

I roll over
I think to not go numb
built upon skin
where islands run out the pain

engine engine
take me to the dogs
where I can learn to love again
better than a spy
who has hooked his associates through the jaws
better than a sea black in night
isn't it best to climb inside a wave
and stain your cell phones
with salt water
learning to swim
when you've forgotten how to talk

talk to me please
I'm bleeding in the mouth
I'm not the same person
I wish I was a whore
a tire swing
a suicide
a fourteen story fall

Which tells me I have really learned how to love.

where I have lived
in a basket of nerve
raw ember
situated in meetings
congresional sound
of nonsense
I need to practice patience
I need to learn serenity

I need to get better with a blade

and alcahol on the cuts
where quick swipes
finish the deed
have you learned my life story
go bite the apples on the hill
don't pop your mind
with anything I say

hit in head
with basement fingers
and acid depth
I really wear out from
advice
and just for today

sutures
born every minute
it takes and feeds
every good intention
not from me
don't see what you want to see
it's a slow spoil
a limb gone blind

when you reach for the rack

grab the poems
of sweat and days where no one says hello
and alone is sweeter than the company of dogs
or metaphores built from metal

phone lines
across hills through pastures
trees with suicide wrists
wind in black bus stations
empty
the photons
the greeting cards
the Holiday Inns
no highway would lead me to a God
with better tits than my porno mags
fist inside erupted flame

gone
I am here
gone
I am asleep
able to count morrocan nightmare
strings attached to ravens
to my television navel
channel in the empty fields
road is dead
life is dead
just for today
I remember who I am
who I've always been.
Shadows boot with her head discovered it was nothing - scratched her forhead and behind
when oceans dried up - scruff of her neck keeping that fact to himself - cold nose to his - roof
and a deafening sub stink back to sleep - he put his junkie and his car out onto the highway -
you blew it thats what it thrilled her because the scarf - pass-key? hope - Haley tried to move
his arms - search engine - thought face became taut with panic - words mantle Equador - it
was - I need the pass-key - start somewhere - dozens of sites I don't have it let me go -
mantle, mantle cell lymphoma barely roll over - companies with mantle in the Dakota line and
Ensei Tankado to mantle forty minutes later is now - yachts and tourism your crazy Haley
cried struggled unsuccesfully trips around the gallon road - familiar but probable all of North
Dakota's mail just the same I told you before the clear azure waters -

You wont understand shot bursts between the galapagos for two - it's fucking blasted through
breath taking terrain - an old pack of wind - the noise in crypto - transferring in the eye - a fur
coat fell on a running all that left was - shelter strom skies - then a sofa landed on the metal
platform only fear and raw energy - with a storm of light the azulejo tile glass dropped out of
the blue - soldier smashed strained and breathing - unnaturally pink legs barely audible with
whines and whistles all night the bull tapped it's eye - unveiled secreats or something else -
nothing but a grease spot -

rolled down the side of his woman trapping her and head and formed a dotted crushing her
the air filled and then his lips moved large panes of green house to someone sweat stains a
statue of a civil war his arms beads of sweat panel truck an ironing on his arms and sparkled
like the overpass up ahead and hands shit oh shit something traffic below like a spinning circle
above a foot - soldier how's your death taste?
feathers and long white gloves and the 7:15 train No. 113 sharper Ray had been okay five
miles to bay shore the vet's but when he saw from the sad rave sceane -
pantry at home
he had broken rainymouth fogmorning
then passed the William Penn hills rising to the sea bay
streamed from every window
like demented in the draws with cars on both sides disposed
real estatically
saw no crazy Ray or other car lights
my whole souls disguised living creatures out on this reality
itch there were no black threads with that snow bound semi
the cab crossed the canal
for sexchanging to pain
down there loud spanish culture and natural foggy played from apartment houses
little room wondering how
zagging up the sides like iron
myself into feeling that these young men with gleaming filled red with work
and on some street corners clusters
so thrilling to feel the roll like oil in garbardine sacks with soft tears or sew lines
offered to wash the cabbies little notebook and I stared.
( The lines in quotations are Leslie Scalapino's from various books. )

Jen has hot shower - soap suds on breasts on back and tiny ankles - dries up - looks in mirror
- brushes teeth while fingering her ass hole - toilet paper clean off finger tips - Pink Floyed on
radio - wish you were here - news on t.v like orgasm static - jen slips into tight red dress with
long slit up to hip - art exhibition downtown - locks front door - fucks dog in hallway before
leaving - wipes cum from cunt onto hand leaving trail of doberman slime across the wall -
outside cold snowy night - sattelite stars - hails cab - rides downtown - presses exposed
vagina against cab partition so she doesn't have to pay fare - enters art galley - 8 p.m. -

( " Before the war room it was spitting in an ocean.

Now we can collect all the utterances
proclamations from around the world that
will buttress our arguments - this week
they're giving birth
happens then. everywhere. Nothing.
consecutive. " ) L. S.

Jen wanders gallery drink in hand looking at paintings of pubis extended and highways and
dildo's crucified against tortillo back grounds - real chic - is totally bored - lets out diplomatic
fart - people stare when they smell her gaseous flow - Jen goes into bathroom -
fixes lip stick - sees woman coming out of stall - grabs her and presses the girl against the
sink counter - lifts up girls dress - eats out her pussy - girl moans - Jen wipes juice off mouth
when she is done - pulls book of J. K. Huysymuns out of her purse starts to read to girl - says
" this is dark prophecy from 1890, do you like my eye shadow? Do you think my tits are too
small? " girl laughs and grabs Jen by throat roughly shoving tongue down her throat - they
exit bathroom - wander gallery - tell the artist how anal his paintings are - leave together and
hail cab to uptown -

( " An infant had difficulty being born.

as its bones were broken easily. disease born
with its bones broken in its tiny sack already -
uttered incredible poems as a small boy -
and no one cannot keep up
but one isn't there then. so its not ' to disrupt '. " ) L.S.

Jen and strange girl end up in the village - go to record shops - fuck store owners double
teaming bumping fuzz getting tons of free cd's - go to park and Jen pisses on sleeping
homeless bum - bum swallows every drop - thanks the girls for their kindness and support -
girls go to bar get drunk throw shoes at the patrons take off their shirts and dance on tables
tiny titties bouncing up and down - a sad lonely code - both go back to apartment - sleep in
bed with fingers inside each others ass. Pink Floyed on radio.

The End. Not-to-be-continued.

Nudge
this zone
these lanes
hung by headlights
in deserts
we extract the promise

I can't reach to you

joints linger
don't move a red muscle
I'm triangulating
the noise
to furthest
( not ) right
organic trees
fusion
of road
( pushed )
through miles of thread
on the lanes of crime
my hat ( is ) crimson

burned
( by ) now
is days clawed
in gas stations
the ( must ) be here
searching for essentials
( to ) pack out the membrane
verbal
( rejection ) flawed

if you are not mine

( keep ) the secret
that where we go
we do not find
( kicking ) alive
hesitant
moments ( here ) forged

reminded
by scatalogical
how afraid
to this we will be brave
born to the road
( not ) blinked / phrase.

helped through a body

mind
isn't information
where you go
past billboards
and sodium light
hills sway
and stars convulse

in my car
that has no wheels
in my heart
that pushes for air
do you bleed for the cause?
Do you exit the building
for your fair share?
bone
plastered sacrifice

be here
longer
what sustains
bullets
over highways in swamp
over Hotel in Boston
this is the inverted sign

bring me evidence
not burn tires
and clothes
off road side
to prove my point
I haven't seen what it takes
I'm sure the violence is arrival
by metaphor
shoelaces
silencers
born again to loser life
tied to posts

the negative balance

restored
by a single breath
It's longest to dream
while someone else shovels out the past
for their war
we will become easy
not targets
but bouts of silence
protesting certainty.

We should do more.
What more dear?
Speak up.
Listen closely.
This is the raft.
Maybe us
maybe that is only
so slow
the process is bone
no clothes
we reach the surface
tired of superficial wounds

this is the stay

we long to be whole
from our mouths
from our assholes
tired blinked out eyes
swallowed by flame

is it wrong?
Do you know the code?
give me your hand
long walks are over
hearing the sweetest note is over
playing our parts is over
now lets surface
and tell them the whole tale
of where desire began

roads
into night
buildings sacrificed
cut by montage
we are loose
and near all borders
extended
the sleepy verb
broken beneath the light
we call dawn.
coconut juice in her voice dark eyes on her motorbike many guns
bag of knees nibbled from one end the dark city
three stars Malaysia bombs because maybe I showed you my bare head
tears of rage arrest the heart
ticketless souls glittered in the sunset
jungle on slope bamboo bleached
I suppose dearie Tankado a deep breath
concrete barefoot white mosques emetic
live in the high place follow suit from these dead adopted
when is submission Khun Sa through violent opium eerie
hunger California faded poster Hadji no hot potato
I am myself kill kill being just
I am so poor
Kota train creeping past waiting rooms of red dog
wonderful euthenasia bannana trees
sparked mountains from the loose
student how do you feel?
happy happy in the camp
where are the brown shirts
no sense to be right in these chains of logic ill forged
I pass the self
all you see in the pipes
haystack dying industrial pill
not scattered/them over.
If I was left in
( not ) posted
for the roads are flint
dodged by that much nerve skin
I have seeked an under
to cross my promises

empty rooms
in yellow light
I have had to drink hard
for my moments
when nations flood the screen
half remembered by ( door ) one only ( us )

is it taken
the flood of engines
where angels watch porn
I know my days are numbered
I can't drink coke without going blind
nothing is lost
just put in it's place
seeking the other

where ( are ) the corners

the places I run into
fixed
not doubting the answer
burning ruble
highways North
station of the cross
I meant to give myeslf up
but the scream lasts longest
as it isn't heard when you fade away

and don't return.

the parcels are alive.

Succeed after me:
here's another
upper upper - old lines
all to the good
birth to myself
I am the violence
starting point of discord
we read about the pain
tending to follow the noise
adopted coils
privileges sullen context
what room is this?
centuries insignificant
brings bitter grain
demagogue
that's why sentences are bloodshed
dole out results for the guilty instance
wait! there is no high coming closer
formidable
closer than this
I endure the whip
why shouldn't I ?
suffer cause I am crushed
into paper
beautiful mouth
these words - thousands of them - rise again –
swung: here I am giving -
life by the swarm
ruins and says: I was denounced -
hurried to the exit
every ( these ) doors
whipped by solace
( can't ) keep the flame
from one shoe towards the other
no break ( in ) give sound
prolapsed ( noboddy's daddy ) by these
( I ) face in the absolute
gauranteed nothing
( by ) love this is highway ( south )
motor stars to murder
if there be ( any ) will
( cause ) period. // there be a frame so abstract -
no one is cute
living by the wire
busted lights ( damage ) no ( now ) motion city -
turnpike is mad to the left
knee drawn
legs and twin ruts // compromise
war: let us mean gradually ( dark suit )
( they ain't children ) why?
I know it is the nature of humanness //
who kills another
what is the total number
this ( is ) night
subway junctions
carry victims // using gas
the fog ate them
they were ugly...

muck of memory has put it

dear commentator
these are my emblematic bones
ready I am sad yellow sky
beneath the arm there is ( ' clouds of darkness ' )
luminous negation
strange old history to the earth
this my hand
it drinks the middle
at the end / if anything: line of our writing
stimuli
still stink of blood
gang raped
easy chairs
it must be cold
in the child's denunciations
things above the average
how hungry
lived in the throat cut
war glaring struggle / unsmashed
extraneous words
something to bleed for
system is stronger
confiscate excess / clay eaters / imagine the center /
dark / a million arrests / sidelined.

born out of sight

to ( give )
the legs extend
( both ) dark eyes dreaming
nothing to recieve
in station my ticket
clocks are blood red

down from heart

through to excess
no straight answers
no waiting for the right moment
my phrases are three
and captured by trees
raped in wind that lashes from loss of words
and carries by shreds
the neglect of life ( unborn )
tossed cause

Hurry to the exit

I strain with the letters
come ( go )
bury under bridges
with your digging spoon
with your envy if you are able
I have to speak
I have to say these things now
as if right knew a wrong that waited for opportunity to lapse
bone moon
chisel tide ( really ) drift towards ( uncertain )
nights you die
better than living in the perilous wings
subtracted
to ( be ) by love ( unborn ).
here isn't able // complicates // nomadic constellation // born to motels // in back seats //
( dreaming ) of dresses // summer girls // lazy finger ( vending machine ) trees go spazz //
love is locked ( through noise ) plastic railyards // flinched: tone senses // something is wrong
// escape to winter // what can't the page see // here down the road ( enter, enter )
staging space // the letters for this are: L // K // D // in it we cross ( flagged by haunted
speech ) // God there is more // as point of fact: forever this will go into the veins // lapsed //
prolong future do me ( do me ) in through the mouth //
scarred //
written by dust //
how sacred run down car, boarding house, steel yard //
inflicted years decided we go //
hazard though strained //
slack muscle to jaw that wont speak //
sized up //
shut to the bone //
how long to sigh //
woken with fistful ( wide in doubt ) //
what is there not to believe //
from agonized: telling the phone to sleep //
size matters //
where they divide the truth ( while ought ) collapses slack to the begginning.
with what is love
all is gone
jupiter fustrated
( then born )
by where will I be
coming for everything
lanes through soft night
machines in hills
producing purr

these are the character intuitions

leaving swimming pools
to diners out east
I nibbled your ear
and crossed my shadows
where ever they lay
happy to be crushed
so long as wind was high
and losing ground low

being that
a thousand plateaus of the binded spirit
risen
through mouth
this is candid
so don't leave me
little is left to say
I will say it
burning by the echoe
that carries false love to rest

I need a head
a breast a hand
a serious body to throw out a window
the soldiers are coming
this is our sleep for nothing
the agony that forces words to rescend
and on platforms
in high wind
we catch our trains
asleep in the head
by a million wounds to ( consort ) plaster
then reawake
new to the debt of life.
this for keeps
a long battery ( haunted )
central park snow / being robbed
hustled into cafes
to read your confession
no one relates
( is ) related to
the thought of birth
of feet that tapped the edge of bedposts
high on blue deluge
biting the walls
sexy death

enter
no crossed
chair floats while fingers stir liquid
while hair collects the winter
you had eyes that bitch slapped the dawn
dirty jeans
I wish memory was jello
congealed by moment ( fraught ) not loving
under overpass
hitting the vein with rotten words
could it begin again
like a root / unspoiled

a batch of phrases ( unmatter )

what I lived for
so long under the bedsheets
hitting skin against skin
the radiator was my mother
I couldn't climb the stairs
I didn't want to focus on life
I wanted the wounds to be softer than the cuts
I wanted the tide to carry me off on a chair under the neon lights of Coney Island
goodbye rats of my past
goodbye teeth of the world

have you heard me when I screamed

" let me live " over and over
charcoal fingertips
needing a ride
to stations of radio transmission
I love the elegant fall ( which hits hard )
but carries you to the start
where you bargained for birth
through the forever tube
forever breath
ragged
though ( glory ).

what started / building layers / less structure /

war on drugs / the self is eliminated /
the fools rush to the rind / endless /
proud of Nebraska malls and the energy of the slave /

gone in blazing / demanded rights /

up till then / the multitude have no faces /
wrist bands / lousy punk / streets aren't safe /
wear yellow / tell your neighbor /
every like stays the same / like for like / neon /
rectified /
cops prosthetic / hit hustles / bar none /
movement regulated / torn curtains / fluid /
stars are the enemy / enemy is beneath the skin /
climb the refuse / bargain for god /

dumps in wake field / red disk / silent moon /

in station burning clothes / laughter means surveilance /
last to know / exit door / hit on in bar /
bad music / fried smells / theorys float /
out from private eye / room with no windows /

hear yourself cry / the Lord is abandoned /

railyards meca / tin cans / playing with the offspring /
jobs to lose / foward spirit / spare change /
riding the subway / ghost / in awful deluge /
rain bites cement / sleeping through riots /

in basement / spoon clanks against wall /

cornflakes / shoes on telephone poles /
ring the wind / spill words / carry the tune /
basket medical tide / aware beneath humped in day /
shadow is minor / calling fog to stone /
the head rests on a spherical slope
is down from key
is making happen
storefronts and vending machines

when you say science

you could or could not view the strange girl from bar
foggy drinks
smatter table tops
mirrors
nothing eats like religion

ten fingers
plyed ( on ) winter
surface of lake is ice
layered ( too ) cold dawn
what price
ladies in red
you see or not ( see )
going down [ placated ] the zones
radio dial
fushion of thirst
and once
carried ( warm ) carried.

once
I reach
this is the reaching
breathing out
for birth
there is silence
driving nowhere

heaven or gold?
will you come with me
torn sleeve
motels
high sun goes low
blood
on rooftops

garden [ air ]
two doors down
knock
I am filled with life
I am eating your reason
pour out the verb
pour / come / bar /
here is laughter
it dawns.
tokens
where ( what ) I held
tokens mighty
it gleamed
street walkers
to ride the bus

not a voice
speaking
voice
cut off from the line
in snow this city
no shots pure crystal

scream
this doubt
loud in canyons
scream
voices lost
no religion
lake is polluted
coming to source
car breaks down

desert
highway learning
distracted
photographs
membrane solid
hologram
where is the city

slide of dope
the dildo
mattress decay
curtains I love you
this city
in the desert
lost tokens
battered come
battered alive
neglect re-enter / slum / happiness golden.
people have money
but they don't have money
so they long for humanity
what is human?
who lights the sparks
being fed
where do cops get their money?
from us because we are scared

do you get it
get the drift
no one has money
do not spare it to strangers
unless you are a marxist
which makes you strange
like a woman / do not pray
life will bend you over

analyzed data is red [ meca ] moon

jangling cup
no one has money
the cops take all of our change
sex is deleted
you need ID's to swap fluids
why is America so dumb
woman tell the cops that there are informants at the poetry reading
these are the days we die
and are herded
to make committments
not blessed
because we are broke
in these windows the nights continue.
with what sight is want
nothing poet saying said
lay down garden
war taxi
find in buildings
go dark

broken eclipses sing

now song
in layers
from voice
light the stage with paralyses
no applause
moments couphing friend exit couph
red [ door ] buildings
cab on corners bad

leave show
marked show them mark
in solitude
this happens
strange the swift drug
in re-hab avoiding war
pain pills tar walls
do not do anything ( sudden )
hemmingway is a whore
whore is a building not dust
by battle
we snuff and cream the exit
no applause
bad couphing noise we leave

down to jeans
done scar
sky ( god ) red information
the enemy in poet
crosses line
definatly square to mexico
no cars only cars
dreams big meant to quiver
days [ blue ] curtain rise no people
seats where is cab?

when you are once

who ( not ) knocked on any door
latch is careful
seeing nothing
from bar tops
to sides of streets torn
without a window no prayers
escape and escape
fields red not dark
inside

going matters going

through sattelites and vision
master vein cars end up wrecked
on roadways blocked
condition layered
and thought this is red
meca lanes
swung by branch and less
heart for island
fortune drink milk
bowls over and dying die
spit in desert
the faith is useless

when inside
at windows below buzzards
clock tick bad genes
who is hell even talking
it says and ( says )
come ( only ) must
the highway is layered
suicide by plastic
the figures in throats
blue peices
floor in bare in subway no context

context is taken
not shoved fast cars
the night I slept
this night not any other
other is without friends
in bulbs the light stays on reckless
with where
coming
door no opportunity
heard fix your window
heard brighten your alley
in the ways we speak
too much born and placenta ( hips sway )
you wear a gown ( walking down to river, it is winter )
what aren't you afraid of ?
sitting here counting my steps
how long does it take to reach you
not past, this silence
I mean really reach you

will you go when there is birth

what wont I be
to your face
are you puzzled ( questions outside )
there is no value
context context
sleeping slithers you chase your tail
nothing noted in the dark
gas station tuesday
you've died
what makes me solid?
more is gone
much to that ( done ) snapped fingers
size over
then sound really red

color gets nauseated drift

and dream
vending machines / matadors /
motels in bad light / is it the weekend /
anything you say
will you when you speak deliver the slow L
meca moving
failure to comply
shouldn't protest / too bad the war stinks / it has enemies /
they speak like dragons /
in bar when drunk lifting table
where is girl
her face against glass
drink another and then another
go to moon undo your talk
it scatters

what to do too aren't this your eyes

this opportunity fringe
I have brought
ten years wrung
the dry stung for stable nothing glues
really keeping love
to mine these are windows
car door wont shut is dumb luck
being dumb born from sex
which is labored in past tense
pare the yellow it reaches sky
bar glooms I hate friends
they stay in your pocket
sifting sand then below roar
empty station subway grounded to the earth
low lights in love
from a bowl things are red
a strip cartoon
layered from nothing
not too much being able
already to dance
and then - - - - - - - - - -

diluted sun
sub - pollution /
heated cars /
individual

now she is grown

and talks of how god has changed her.

lanes through highway /

night
loose
to my bed.
people aren't
people
with speech
hoop earings
the nation
glow bug cities
ragged man

cops
and then
more cops
it is barely raining

motion
to tide unresponsive
going
home
the sun will never rise

subway singers
who is rich
the A and C train closed
I am an animal
look out window
where is my voice?
if there is a red
( meca ) girl
why hop rail
don't pay

ring door
rising sky scraper
nail
hunter
the godly green

magic
is
a little song.

frozen red
get over girl
high climb
toward thin horizon
get and got/not got
they/heart to give

matter
when lights color fade
the fin/golden hum

pine box
sun/creep/mystical gin
throw howl/exit/place
not be what I make/a poem for your restriction.
gimp held
him down/platforms
rain/drug/blue me

hint the hollow

tunnel/surprise/meca been gas stations
go underneath
spot cops on thin horizon

further up/elevator
shut down/buying junk been junk
dispense/cooler
can't.
dreaming puts you in the syringe
I am the earth persephone
but can't be hell / fast train bloody dismissed

the glow marks on my arm

existent between the image
an arm and a leg / who could love you ?

first the mode warrants this poem

discredited death leave someone / fasting
the body of rope wrapped around millimeter / soft core

woman ask me / my government shuts down the peoples minds

this huge fire / so called America
words in the singing desert.
big papa
why's your head stink like puss
whats da matter?
god done filched on the coke?

hit me daddy
break my femur!!!
pit whore
the lost child of the burning bed

triple gag
my horse hands
why is momma perpetually stuck underneath the sink?

with that tattered lovers welt...

is santa in my as*hole again
bagging the flesh
to dada weep stove...

sing me out of the stitch straight into the vine.

This cu*nts name is B. - in her is all that I am - noblility - compassion - beauty - all that is left
of her is a torn photograh and a misplaced number - some would call that good fortune - 9
p.m. - she's pulling hangnails from my fingertips - ( in the fabricated dawn ) -

history repeats itself in many ways.

Nora's page: the missing link between

gruff voice and thigh

thick sheets of ice - jack the ripper

sex in the gutter

there are no more kicks left

( stick me in my as*hole until I bleed )

Nora's page: blood on the sheets - sirens wail -

murder city - proprieters market

( touch what you are about to f*ck ) unbuckle - digital bruise

second blow - hard to associate

negativity in the Niles

borrowed cash for the electric bill

pre - maddonna - Dakata - subway transit.

there is a great wall against the rim trail - the connections between landscapes is lost -
potential auto sentimentality -

Okay I chafed - pain and panic and we'd share our blood from tongue to teeth -
your c*ck moves like a washcloth across my p*ssy - like pillows on my skin -
killing thinking of me -

you were living in your stomach pe*nis and balls - I f*ck you in a garage - like you'll eat my
brains -

Does your left nipple really have 25 years sober?

boys drinking beer on the shoreline - footprints seized by sand - to be inside is to make the
death threat - girls masturbating about tommorrow - we never escape them - it's immenent -
the darkness to reconvene like a rape, perhaps the story goes.

death is like the sack of this guy - fear is the end of muscle - terminate dreams in the vision of
the worm - a colon is expanded to smear on the wall - sucked off - the whole six inches
scraping
the loose sisters throat.

when is an almighty god fixed like a proper violation - sharing a body is nothing -

the chemical is a greed - ( magnolia ) cu*nt - accident of morning flies hotels - dog lubricating
tic tic.

inverting transmission - rope lashing three lives - whore sustain the sleight weight...
I'm ripping up my clothes - president Carter - find out why sex is so easy please.
the back aches like a ghost, final flaw.
we live in a world shaped like the film of a cu*nt.
Darwin, do something that performative. ( fellatio ).
green death. compacts.

the ownership is damaged skin.

replace me.
per-se, an interior reflection of bug f*ck. I saw a film. It's theme was emotions. BORING.

we enter the mistake of the body. remember. I am a victum. tic tic.

money is a dim wit. dirty black beat up, theres a pric*k.

we descend into the key.
throax byte. iris wander Cambodia.
pi*ss on my tit*s. you're learning to be totally insane. humans aren't Iranian.

co*ck hole the yellow cord. Heidegger. green star.

moving moving, I dont know.

one has to feel, that the partner is physically sick.

crawling against the curtains. what is the routine of the dream.
young lady, don't be blind now.
the coyote eats the universe, sprawled.
open open! would a future say a dry number.
date rape pill. glass of fustrated sorority blonde bad grades perky North Dakota tit*s maxi pad
mini skirt lips like a concentration camp.

gaga.

red is ending. are you a geek. a stranger before the muscle.

the sole life then turned ugly. knowledge is always situated.
colleges are death pens. piggy degree spread blood and grease on the tranny knowing I stink.
nails of the victums blood. tic tic.

jolt of steel, refrential sceane.

born comes to mind of the conception.
tie the wrists.
she had cancer.
ovarian. tic tic.
mail me my results. no fear, we travel the darkness of girls masturbating from pain of
boundless horse.
holy eyed rat, to know a thing is to possess the coffin. orchid.
open the sex metal. gas killing. gerbal.
air the dogs crawl.
trapped in a small room.
she wants to be an anthropologist.
then digging out the bones of the happy flesh.

we congeal. how victorian.

do I matter.
I want God to see me.
tic tic. I don't want to be liked
you are attacked, believe that you are attacked
in my red sex bandage
lose me girl
the goosed rape is really fryed.

and then again what is an attack?

can you wear it like a teenage hoodlum
can you tell who I possibly am
that hard co*ck or vintage cu*nt
terrible visualized down the throat any city
in which I am tic tic
fu*ck steady operation mirror

while the voice is so reamed

America is the swamp land where the pu*ssy weaps drowned in flame
retarded shopping malls tic tic
girls have as*s holes that need to be stuffed with conspiracies before they tan line their
cerebellum.

I am not enough / wish to die

and several times pass out from sorrority pu*ssy in speed bars lightning fags wrist tag this
horrible inner stretch while the mind bowls out across sad corners sniffing the 7/11 pimp
puddles tic tic

the bathroom of girly gel red red red... tic and by...
into...
flags of our skin. the mirror weeps.

hurt sore to red rind

torn
am I eaten
able to breathe
blood on bedsheets
necro - fatic fuzz
inclined to debauch and suck on teeth
windy mega boy

over and under

tanks genocide
bra straps on telephone cables against the red dawn
strangulate ocean girl
in ice cupped hotel

bring the skin of wounded Iraqui to the tombs

of.................................................................................................................................
............................................. his will be glorious - a hole to stuff.
her hystarectomy in my bitter womb
tasted of the red carpet I bit
and every inch
shone like the spleen god has grafted onto my hysterical pillow.

a bone for a man

who shot a seed into the dark door that is Eve.
to kill and kiss
pointed wrap
lino - rig busted
sleep sex
and candy hid

fustrated abcess
liquor
put to sleep
dorm rooms of whores ancient manisfestation

piled
and then bled
nixon was it
not me / mushed / crotch face /
hero.
lick the capitalized handicap of restoration -
in the mouth my field of mice -
under the tongue where the nest of maggots pilot their anti-terrorist condoms -
sleeping eyes -
bridges where famous poets jumped into icy pools -
by this they told us to stay out of the deep end -
and never hold a scalpel to the congress of fruit.
any energy is spent like a slave while we worship the locomotive and advertising matrix
store window mannaquins more erotic than the girls on the streets -
where is the oval / the bended over sac / eat what I say - and keep the radio tuned to fuzz.
the organ of the innocent woman. exclusion from a flower. repressed unfettered body.
language.
against the city there was a reply.
dangerous horses fed intesine, drug addled, dawn broke.
these were needing cars through the wreckage.
spoiled there heads by laughter and codiene.

flat line lingustic pill arousal

had the sky over pools decayed by looting
who are men
with their
c*cks wretched in ditches reaming butterflys

always casuality henchman

loose wire optic
suzi Q. 's pansy footing the filched fragments.

douse me in flame.
red on the rain stretched marsh. pause. ginny people. am I one. reduction. high heels
plastic dex drowned in high city cooler park.

fat slut my beauty bench mark sideways can I pull against the scar that slid the sun into slow
birth. where are the scissors? who is peeling my toes? is it embryonic lord and saviour?

releived. in the shadow. foward.

Pink Tracy on mars... her fleet ships hanging against the optic wires of thin space
membrane... " a color cupid with a shot of refrol " pink whips out her hench coins... desperate
to get a drink in her... what are the black horses in embryonic dream time...
police work with us norman the regulator... so pink tracy downs her cupid and scans the
feverish joint... sludgy mugwumps talk about their marks under dim light... Peston is at the
juke... " why all the brown artist clinks, P. through these grey rooms the narcotic dwarfs,
where is there a calm " pink tracy says it like she's pissed but she's only really horny. " I have
a hunch about the lost ugly spirit, novocaine, the madame had a silent grip at the cafe, I
filched her wake patches something sweet rotten. " Peston says this like he's in love but he
only really wants to gag and mutilate tracy. So our pink douce, being a three dimensional
human agent, fires her saffron synaptic wit and thrusts her pelvice into a sleazy dance...

Meanwhile... in deep space... at the parrallel spurt outpost... a finger head barbie is sputting
on meth... teaching the scissor children all about porn transference. " the red star, sister
euphrates, time before night, you understand about the biological court, the microfilm pus*sy
house, well it was all a flash flood across the A.I. telepathic throughway, silly rigs, koosh
projects, the fall of the delta syntheses "... barbie's lesson is interrupted by a female scissor
child who is pullin a Yoko Ono and ripping her black dress to shreds singing " why not blow up
the planet, feed me milk duds " yaspah diddle ohhhhhhhhh... be bon kaaaaa... Porn ruins the
minds of sectarian youth...

in a galaxy far far away, the jobbies are loading a belt truck... clock islands smell of gasoline...
now you may well ask whether I can tell this to you straight... certainly not...
and I know you all long for the toilet scene... It doesn't happen... This isn't Jean Luc Godard
by way of Pier Paolo Pasolini's ' Salo'... so be good talker and help me juice the police...

End of installment one.

the outpost mall... on red venus fur mecca... pink tracy diddles through the digital book
store... meester K. comes up all slinky punned... " watcha reading tracy, my new porno book I
hope, they sell it here ya know... " " Sorry K fed, I'm knee deep in some orange county
nostalgia snuff, I'll have to read your book some other time... " " Aww tracy, I'm so sad, your
my favorite pill head, I just can't wait to know what you think. Do you want to bite my pecker
instead??? " " My mouth is full of chewy gum, I can't register my cheek slop 2yur catheter
pump right now, see ya... " Pink Tracy wanders the flickering booths empty honey comb
stalls... sky shift on the insect cylinder... rake them field bugs... terminal Nagasaki projectors
dissolving in dust... punt pilots in the dim jerky...

Meanwhile far across the fungoid gills... sunshine 38 lets go of his bleeding anus sending
arabic transmissions to the p and o... outside the carcass shack Lyndon B. Johnson diddles a
young boy with his bottle jigs... " hey... " screams 38 " cut that out Lyndon, or I'll report you
to the neon count... " Johnson cries, his poor pedophile dreams have been shut down... they
start drilling the syphon locks... look anywhere the sky pilots have raised there sails... red
marsh warehouse flak... tide against the green city... pistons everywhere the blizzard of the
earth...

napping chinese take a journey... lark sucking out the sex color... " Clayton, where's you're
push coins... " footy says, dumping his giggle fawns into the waste fetch... " nowhere to be
found, I'm an empty studio bill, where are my Incas... " everyone on board the ship knows
that claytons Incas means his young sex dolls with political eyes... emotion is oxygen... in the
metal city the fierce space vessel floats through the outer veins of deep practical standard...
first class longe the orchestra is a bunch of terminal addicts... through the barrels of
runaways... voices hail the pot... exact replicas... the genitals of the purple gill...

One two to pony... does anyone read... pony baby... the space deck is sinking... a thousand
blue photos... the word fails... Pink mantra through the timeless channels... come collect the
laundry bill... Interfaces with rain...

End of second installement.

It isn't that I rode... though the winds were high...
and those stretched buildings sung of high voltage...
the creep even at a distance... flashing eye camera...
dusted... roman flint...

I sleep because the skull aches...

and whispers inside the shell...
it is a wide enough shore... that then we go further... up to our knees...
kerosened by the lord...

doppler against the freeway...

Orchard... hills green... that book of skin... pilots... screen... thin milk...
It's happy to be loaded
skin flickers
holiness the blue wall
gun shot majesty
carnal flaunt
fit for a queen
inside the raging mouth
whore I am the color red
bad fever
all my dolls are missing heads
don't baby my wasted thighs
this hollow juke
fat winter
I want to feel your chemical slash
reject sodomy
drill my good hole
suck the scars
the sun burns my tires
ooh you've got a big one
felt a hand
guillotine wire
synaptic motor mouth
hell in the gash
star tissue
pill daddy
I want to be fed vietnam through the a*ss
hippy lick
lysol dychotomy...
If I be well
I will live well
but not knowing how to be
I am the poor sap of syntax
poured in fluid confines
the things I would do
wanting to be a way in which there is no out of touch with the desert
winding exactness
the heart is barren
against the hotel of dancing keys
I am living but not knowing well the recognition of sonata's
dry bed
kept to be made
hells intent / in the mind / if a tiny endurance /
the shower is surplus
neon purge
T.V. static the Kafka light
making ( if ) mens time against the tide
through hole the light of road is barren...

all will be well

the laughter of your toes
campus snow
renegade I'll show you the highway
my keepers against the sad byline

fascinated plus detail

my rusty heart my tire swing
ocean swell it was 2 a.m.
on the boardwalk
madness cried at the sea
the sound of stolen children caught in its web of waves

ceartainly spew me out

if I can remember
I want you to show me
the aquaduct covered in fall
history of the blind inventor
my race to your bottom button
where the silver mark of a scar shadows my tongue
answer me moon
why the road forever
why rejected like a foot stool
from the girls who swing their wounds too close to the sun.

I'll be more and waiting tiny endurance

for the fragile attempts to see past the drunken lady sprawled against the cab at pier 17
did she love me when she asked for a light
I hope so
there are no oyster shells in this sea
they raked them clean
and the bars are blue / why not gold
I dance with the self
which on some nights is enough
amd on others is not
I say a prayer for the lost shells artificially moved to the plasma tides near...
where was it?
I took a leak in an alley in wallstreet
my cousins were laughing near a street lamp
pray for me that I last like dust
and if the fray ( red ) surface congeales
give me the last nod
I will know any way the star points is home...

The bar girl adjusted her bra

the sea, the sea where forgetting is,
the microcosm,
blue days at the orphan edge of winter,
where is the light you brought in,
little tag of the thorax,
cadence in a mounting pin,
pages everywhere
try me now

where is the thought of choosing my name becoming angry,

in the sky I've made ( bad luck ) attached to the human earth,
you are mine now,
nostalgia is looking off to one side,
I do want to forget,
the little names we whisper from room to room,
( bee hive, Hayako, Remembering )

the map of the physical absence,

the signifiers are shifting,
the world is becoming unpinned,
( at night the gray is darker )
you must pick out a name,
amidst the red jewl and coiled nose,
what is your light comes to me,
forgetting is remembering,
I remember forgetting,

softly underneath,
the overpass brings back a thought,
I cry against the coffins,
where is my assassination?
I hope that you can hear
( this will not be my voice )
follow hearts trail twisted though I may sleep
and slobber on the impossible
interstates unwind and the shadows delve from where I write
whispered no......... screamed against a page.

listen: I cant move

my childhood is a bruise
unlike car hoods the time the tide lapped the remaining war butterfly fragmented shell punk
pink hair where was the killer what will the nomad drink I love
you..............................................................................................................................
.......................................................... Bit*ch........................like I loved
myself.........................which was vey little..................................and even more
afraid.....................................................
he wont hurt you none. come eat me up like a doll.
no fear. I don't run off. vertical sunlit mount.
terminus coil. it takes all kinds of words tic tic.

in slots their eyes red lips ejaculate to know a thing.

genital dribbles, I love the media. one is cold in the water. we pass among frequent
aberration. ones rim released the wreck.

my as*s is cheap like a fine art.

tic tic. next ache please.

apparently there is only seeing or a physical repression.

is there any fate? like a whore of fresh meat.

pills give you the dream. fertile liquid patchwork to give him head the world would know I wish
t.v. shut out the cu*nt.

wave you couldn't die or sleep.

wave. tic tic.

the first sentence carries the attack to the next line.
clad rose flesh.
dirty suffix. I am no child. no relinquished slut.

the same city, sore eyes, bit*ch is a parable in the orchard. violate.

spawn addiction. silly fu*ck. travel into the self abuse.

dogs are selling you're photos. shi*t is shi*t everything falling apart on me.

grasp the sand rim nipple.

not producing. tic tic.

muscles have red marks. bite hard.

I can't leave my father, he's ripped to the ankles.
don't agitate his erection.
one day you will feed yourself some pain.

slouch away the knife. zero point.

I'm wondering about the small gray.
everyone hurts, I think they're on the street corners planning to fuc*k.
now stars light up my head.
who is your favorite child. moving near water.
mouth seizes. open noise. linear. strapped to the direction.
gone.

wet like a history darkness eating the vine.

vocal chords.
what do you want to loose.
i'm murmering sitting warmer
about to gesticulate
horny ending.
no fear except the laid out number.

the sound of rustled scales.

provoking the invert.
fuc*k to radiation.
poison act of exit to repress group.

gradually. tic tic.

If I was dispelled ( hold me now )
because the shake is as I scream,
what Am I screaming?
Hotel hallway, anvils against swimming pools,
your out there red star
pouncing the beltway

loving but sticky sheets

the sad heart
thirsty on bread
isint pain divine
forcep/soap.
I need the rescue from silent corner
held to the nail I've loved
like a quiet era
before the bombs and pill euphoria

needle walls
I would push foward like I were a shadow
if not so weak in the knees
and exposed by television screens
jack knife 2 a.m.
really I'm sorry,
does this mean you'll climb the ladder and re-enter my womb

it was worse
when that moment as the body wakes
and the day is like a whore who left her underwear behind
why is magic so bourgeous,
the ice captures the folly
where rainbows suicide
and I dance on the slow repose of the absence you've left behind ( red disk )
tic tic

God please swallow details

I wish I had the cu*nt that would make me human
a real boy so my di*ck wouldn't grow everytime I lied
is it better for your fortune
don't say the word
things get useless
my rusted body
hanging over the edge of platforms

If I need it
and I will
returning by interstate to my broken fundament
while blue moon licks the tail pipe
action doesn't chase thought away
longer in the strain.

tic tic.

fields dissolve in red wire

surface membrane
cried
not because of the down by law
which is every situation

how come tic tic

is your velvet a reduction
never entropic
or slave system status

blood on the carpet

goodness whore
I've left the post nuclear swimming pool
to my shack of invalid pens tic tic.

No more reason
out the window with Heidegger
no being is in the breath
which is why ( red m. ) the thought is residual
stain highway
my bagged body

fruit trees
tic tic.

fit will you be to and too

not poured out
a papa sap
I wish you loved my ugliness
the field of my ways
dreamed like tire swings in the old south where I buried ambition in the red dusk
will there be anything left of me
can you hear the caution thrumming
tic tic

It's the face you sought to send to isolation

time and time again
then there is more
I was alone at the empty hotel
teaching whiskey the artifacts of Husseurl
under bad light
that incessant kafka porn
my hands were searching the walls for patterns of loss
be consistent wont you bit*ch tic tic

I'm on the red tide

doubt to be ever loved
tiny pail
I hurt
there is nothing grand enough to say
the soul needs a jewl in the center of it's jaw
but I feel only the thrust of sleep for a hundred years

blueness this blue light of the world

tic tic.
the saddest level of the song
while waves develop
burning on the crushed retina
why now my house empty like the flake of skin you drew from the wall

answer by pail and thin lines dividing roads that tip to abstraction
it was killing but I loved ( and still do ) that death that it performed
and now my half rails are screaming in the blue dawn
where tides ( I dont need to know the facts ) wash clean the heavy scars

needle point
early abuse
I cant grip the rail / buses are poison
no word / finally
a leap through the curtain where land is rushed to meet incessant demarcation / red dilate /
push / give the hope / not enough hope
then a certain thread
to tie the heart in through the hole

and dream for the right expectaion

nerves to arrive
I wont be in
the sink is over run with the noise of finality.

Why does pornagraphy have to have a story?

so that we can mandate the laws of action.

of physical repulsion.

anything in me ( what wasn't burned ) though heavy failure

I disconnect
the politics are purged.
help / not say a word
subtle fray jesus what rides in the tank
that time / listen to snow cones couph out the hives
I'm learning / can't hear a dime

shoot
then a wrist that rescued highways
the life inside bath tubs
full of ice when childhood was a blanket of sound / static assassination
could'nt have been more than the sum of my parts

it's lonely in the south salem void

skimming lakes / diners tattoo parlors / can I love really ?
my parts are divided
the wall / the cleft vagina / scratch that /
I need to not know

what all there will be when there is nowhere left to go.

gone into the exit wound that divides experience.

If there was more of me / the words I am
strung over precipice / what noise?
I'm barely out of the bed
my forehead covered in sudden words like Hannah
sadness tennement / invalids / calcium moon
retract the dull voice

to ache and suddenly be more than pills pills pills

where through tide of faultless city birthing the red night
people won't touch eachothers wounds
the genocide clit / wont heal if there could be a way
past gas stations empty sodium lights nervouse punk lucid where is my home in the belly in
the place of vermillion sand buried long sheets of poems and hiding from the national
government
God, why won't you go away?

is it my boredom?
the thrusting star that stares congestion of the senses into the void spiral ( her ) voice
red was the pattern of day
I hid under the table from your tattoo
the branding of being owned by a strangers ink
is the ( me ) on the tide bank so suicidal / I think maybe
call off the dogs
lay with me where the road cuts in two
I'll be brave / don't cry / it's murder that punctuates madness
from here the sad turn
who could leave the bed?
forefinger against the wall
if I'm wasted in time you'll remember my youth when the void was not quite so thick
there had to be a chance in hell to say what I really mean.

tic tic.

I love you.
Think of me
and don't do much
when you make a turn of styles
at my head
it's where I waited
sattelite posed
for the connection of love
telling the storefronts to sleep it off

again of me
while I was young
verge of puking
telling the narrative / gets excessive
a heavy weight to drag under the earth
what a sad poem
would you write it for me?

don't be bitter
it eats alive / tire swings / dirt roads
cloud coverage
what will the truth mean / nude to your toes
has to be a center not so selfish
which will win me over
winning truth afraid of coke machines
the internet has the seed of cancer
gigabytes destroy the poem
nothing is conveyed
so I write in ink on the surface where the skin lies still

through Holland tunnel

pathway in the hearts mind ( in ) carried meaning me
go the long haul
which means no sleep
breath to be able
by tired life I will give, all that is who ( is ) me in written word
will you love the division line of the vanquished war
selling our childhood back to us on a string
there is so much more than surface
I will tell it all to you in the dusk of the finished day
in some motel
the highway converges / you speak again.

There is a stillness in the mouth of the fray.

and then there was a time
ate neurotic by my side
hermetic fetish in the cornia
whores only in whip lashed window
screams the eye
wall tap till the blood garnishes scars from the rectums ripped oval.

If in time
torrid blank expression
must having star fu*cker
your cheekey totem bombs the planetary huff.

on the road
where the north is a guiding light
trying to save my life
please dont hurt my veins
I have the information / where was I ?

did I learn to grow old

was it only children watching
as I barely clung
like an ocean you know
and when we cried
the earth rotated to the place we longed to understand

blood where the stars undid there depth like a garter belt
beautiful wasn't I ?
and full of pain
to account for California
floodlights
the scars
the heavy haul
the motel pain
I have burned my dreams
if I wasn't dying I needed to be told who to be
Galileo, falsehood is our second state
this north is a flood of condolence
while the snow and the lodges on highway 80 dissipate to tell me nothing more
besides, keeping quiet is the wisest move
on this road where there is nowhere to be.

resting... please...
dont rest my body
isn't it morning wont arrive
final shore gone under
and reefs we collect the colored hue carnival rotate spinning night once a black friday I carried
your pack and puked in your lap

dry-est are the words

in there that boy was rustled
and daughter we claimed
for the trees cunted too tall and affirmations gold highways could not reach
no more enemys please
I was aware of sources ( telling crime ) capitalist dock
burn your papers, the men of my time

but you wont rise for yourself

here's a tired breath
don't touch my scars
frigid and wallstreet banker broke I telecast a million crack street nightmares whose face cant
you tell when the river reflects only the almost dead you wont make it shoved into your tiny
classification harbor ( harbor ) harbor

I was into kinky

( blood sports ) stop the usage
there are whores who have never read a poem like sad merchants of a lost screech
we should flood the sreets to bring them a stanza before the last lousy fu*ck which corrupts
more than the cu*nt and leaves the throat as endless as the beat agony where tiny needles
peirce the soul, nuclear miasma, it is... is... ( is )...
going to every end...
last one
many people out the door
single fire
I slept
indebted to the trees
tiny emergency

I can't and isn't coffin

or highway motel
why I left you
soda pop for serial killer

every time
I wind through
this needle explodes
and fractures the map
of where the wild dog sleeps.
This daily grin
dies
by sea cast thorns

the wonderment crushes my ambivalent sails

and sends me home a song
about as sacred as my memory will refine

to your tired death

I am aiming my all to please
but I will love you even when your wounds shatter this winters greed.
" Poems for Judas ( part one ) "

First I put a fish in my cu*nt

and nailed the door shut
but my as*s hole ripped and shattered the winter frozen pipes of the red city.

Now angels puked in the crepescular dawn

mawing the earth where I spermed
and castrated my mouthly muse.

There were prostitues whose clamps would not stay put

as the sadist foot fiddled along the empty vein
and re-exposed them to the virus of the mad hunter then and now.

So who's grand baby did we throw in the pot

a salt of tears the lake withdrew
staggered claims while sh*it ate our hearts in the void of cistern matter.

fu*ck spittle on your sugery breast

where the cancer has been transfered into my mouth
I chew the lumps that would of made you die and plan your next torture.

Victum, victum, everyone's a victum,

I do say, when a whip whored bi*tch gets it in the eye
there can be no pause before you fist her tattered tw*at with a rusty pipe.

But in the city, this red city dawn,

where rape smells like gasoline poured over parliament wigs
we all cough with a little blood and sperm migrating to the tips of our libertine brains.
( end of part one of " Poems for Judas " )

Poems for Judas ( part 2 )

Her thin lips open against hot sizzling wire

where deathly dawn castrates it's mimetic turd
straight into the opulent feast of haggard cu*nt flies repossesed maw

red indentured to this city despite any beauty goes couphing despair
cum jiggled through her sugar tooth the ripper of castration migrating to this cry
fu*ck cuties tender hole where I tar her pink rectum to a rose

despite her cut open tit where I murdered rats into her mouth
and frazzled her cl*it with a tiny cactus
mixing blood with chlorine

I put her sh*it in a jar and finger the pink sluice where dogs have torn
and now through the night a jew from every corner
is fu*cked with it's corpse slid against a large oven

I will eat your fetus as war insanity splits me at the eye

tongue and cheek / check the sink
where the diamonds re-align to the state I'm in

thrown now Iraqui dust over the red tents and heart of crime
every sugar pi*ss you fustrate with your an*al ring
bring me a juicier co*ck from the republic of sleaze violent crimes against the lesser breed

oh fagg*ots and punch barreled queers set to flame

with constant bowels fractaled by the angular scalpel and hysteric saw
frigged by eaunics with strap on blades I eat the bread

body of christ festered pansy whisper a little gag

while hung Judas by the throat
his co*ck stuck straight out towards the tortured cross

and by all words good men die

and season their ports with liars blood
great tides will spill and dismantle the shores of the west

and all heaven will weep

that the glory bird
has sung it's death into the desert of many voided springs

rushing to the ghetto wound

his or her happy cry
make men believe they master the cave

while death surfs the throat of the disenheartened queen

Mary Magdaleen and her twat stuffed full of vice
deep throated the Lord for a promise that her jar be filled of ceaseless honey.

( End of part 2 )

The train you were on missed me

on the sea I went under
apparell
and the fornicating tide
eats a red heart out of the divine murder of the self.
In the back of who's torn up van
this lane
early god
I pop pills
it's hardly speacial
but you should know
I remember the scars on your knee

where sky folds over fields like childhood trauma

I carry limited details
in back pocket
I hate the south
I never put my lips to the scratched glass of a greyhound
as I'm traveling in the red
only momentarily

Keep the spit out of my destiny

when a dry house weeps
I hate your motels alongside the northern highway
" Yeah, she stayed here, but that was two nights ago. "
And I'd travel further, but I'm starting not to care
that's the detail

bucket or pail
thats where the thick tide sleeps
eating men like hollow wings
where the shadows fail
requiem or soon suicide
to keep my tired mind from pushing thought
any further is too long away

the death
it would mean so much to me
but your only a burden
in the house of heavy song
while stuck air congeals
I am a silent smile

I'll give you that

the night ( out ) of gas stations
goes red.
and tired falls.
flung from hearts
not speech
where stop
is middle nerve

you pulse
but the dumb
don't hear

when your tragic

you're only aware
I love you
that is nothing

like the simulation of the nerve

one lonely echoe
from the canyon
apartment pipes
and too much tylenol
go god
I am bathwater
I am the mess you laid
nothing is in me
so loose / tired high
untouched / maybe / there is hope.
reason
into sea
okay death
retreat with useless words
help me
fall -
help me
hit
bottom

fu*cked
to
every core

I settle
I hate /
love no reason

It's done
to me always
no exit
just
simulated repetition
Azura nowhere - fight again

bleeding if I'm lucky.

couphing if I know.

Here's you're share of the wind.

May half the earth keep you kind.
Scars don't change.
Their smile is forever.
God, here it is, corner room, 1981.

curtains
hold me
rapid eye in the dark
settle for music
so cold
the heat is lost -
evidence
for my words
that lay collapsed
like crazy dreams
like no way to California.

Hotel's
and highway's
and mirrors full of dead faces
no more reason
all pushed
through needles
through drug stores
under the matress
trading poems
for blue capsules -
a dialect of senselessness -
who cares if I am the sea?
Who cares if I am roving dreams?
A songwhale twisted with the slow rolling inside night colored loud falsetto - eyes tear laden a
true carnival of blue rain in a bottle - free from the grind of scrap metal - down in the oil
paints bottom edge a hermetic fusion - no one to be seen - an inkling of tall serpeant light -
the sound of the hive administers its grotesque touch - garden of baby bones the fog erased
the strange blossoms - real clumsy bi*tch the city had birthed - a body on the road rubber
scum enshroading - the story gets fuzzy here - onward kamikaze a scream from the hills
metal skin - sky shell bursts in psychadelic color - planting green tendrils in sewer cu*nts that
shake out the poison on the tip of a tongue - fire glitch from the off center - an ocean of sound
underneath the veins of the city - collapsed micro-bodies and all seeing eye stem - from the
dark bottom a gutter of stars -
My head is like iron in a safety wound - retchless dust on the walls - conveyor machine grim
enduring baboon - the first entertainer Bang! - the interior sound of the bone hill - prostitutes
under the rusted roller coaster - underneath the tethered city - strangers in the garden of the
sky - rainbow walls against half collapsed clock eyes - a black taxi in the scum of the sublime -
a tide of blue mouths from his open wrist - nailed to the spot the ice cold jaws of semites -
sexual formation through human nature - saturated accumilation I accept your paper hat -
assassination is the key beyond the impressive transparency - burnt inside cranial inspection -
the eternal morbid prosthetic - petulant jack boots eat out your poison from the cu*nt ulcer in
womb of sky micro stitches in the flesh.

( End of Part 1 )

( Part 2 )

Holes bleed from psychotic god - hungry cars in the masters kill flow - massacres follow the
signs you are the very worst - over the concrete top - arcades of an old dream - down the cool
path - on the 30th floor - no address - sleep breath - pale - a place forgotten - memories
naked empty after september - curtains tarnished mirror pale fingers fading - incomplete
dreams - lost in a box a rope from my navel attached to the gray mans eye - grateful for the
liquid of dark transports and convulsive death dusted in little eyes of self annhilation - cranial
static from empty oil cans and the corpses of crushed cars leaking dream fluid from cotton
eyes phallic entry of pay phone coins - millenial love spinal poems dug out of rail road dirt -
the iron cross tattooed on a trailor house - hauntingly beautiful black rain from a sea shell -

animal exit a sense of the killer slow motion golden jungle - the urban sprawl of radioactive
aftermath - a door in the ankle of a stripper - glass corridors dissolve into skull wood from
from the living mouth of the sea - dead ponies and broken soda machines glitter of lights from
across the road - she slips through the bowed head of a needle and spreads her cu*nt to the
dark Clepto Willie - cosmic bladder in the torn madness of thunder - scorpians in the new city
of fallen stars - terminus of a tunnel making the bone into a black door of suicide peep shows
- circles of rain to stop smell breathing in the pipes of ripped flesh - the possibility of normal
crime a woman in a shoe box counting coins - o silence for him the storm across the void -
incadescent flesh trapped inside history - egg shells white flickers of trash cans.
( End of part 2 )

Part 3 )

Night torn smell from the filter of the body - I want all of you puking on the creeps - toward
the horizon the mystery of junkyards - into the world I came from a mountain - a flame for a
city - my belly a dream maze - metallic gown through the windows night grime a center of
noise - wanker vibe translated into self portraits of carnival light - the kidnapped smell of a
woman - animals on their knees tucked into the roar of the universe - the center of time a
truth has limits and dies - swarms of wild horses in a forgotten chrome scape of sculpted teeth
and river bone extinction - through the light of hideous secret I come to you - sauntering into
the distorted worm of dreams -

I lift any sentence to compile a political outline of you - a body of sleep you don't remember
for the sake of ease - like love a raised finger who I was or am or needed to be to find the
center of the nerve - the birth fluid brackishness I crawled into the earths vagina this sex
through scum and world of criminal psychology - crimson body like a jewel in the tower of
hush and black beautific sorrow - I come through storm to you - in my bed a dangerous bony
reality with a throat of filtered story for the element of a verb where nothing will ever change
and no one will ever arrive -

downward she's fu*cking the black dreams tiptoe into the fetus of ash lip thieves - the
misplaced flow in a garage of punk amber abused and modified distorted skin - through the
disection and the heavy sigh I come to you - flinging off my verbs and non-existing words 32
ways of saying starry south a cu*nt my cu*nt I live in the sun fade counting the ways of my
time with you - only her eyes oh well the true crime of the sound of metal and yet, a monster
slum under we travel the belly stem of the fifth floor - crawling out of 9/11 you are the only
thing I am working my way towards sorrow sorrow the mass of beauty how life comes to you
hammer and knives - saw and sky - edges of an umbrella my new twisted bizarre black boots
- faces of the triple light and cold pulled up his pants - you touch from frayed jacket cracked
pavements sharp fish soccer scores - the rotting paneless cafe -

( End of part 3 )

( Excerpts from my book " The World Begins at This Dead End " written seven years ago in
2002 )

up and down the highway a hundred times over -

mittens and warm coffee -

a tube of blood -

bathroom stall -

out the door - through an alley - out the door - and repeat -

through an alley - out the door - in winter - a rape -

out the door - ( someone stumbles ) in winter -

on the main drag - pimps give you what you need -

through an alley - the dead girls - in winter -

( somone stumbles ) - coke and hash - thirsty dog -

pimps - coke and hash - eat the pu*ssy out of that -

out the door - in winter - a rape -

and repeat -

on the main drag -

twisted gaurdrails on the highway -

engine dies out - a violin - no good coat ( player ) -

handcuffed - scratchy records - bedpost -

vaudville - coke and hash - back in '82 -

and repeat - in winter - a rape -

the corner bars are full -

Oh Marlana - dead girls -

eat the pu*ssy - pimps - out of the main drag -

rooftops - every Suzi - tennement -

co*ck tease - underground metro -

150 mutiny wars -

stumbling drunk to our motel room -

metal studs - a bottle of rum - ashtray - floor -

15 pieces discarded - dirty magazines -

sidewalk - storefront - read it over again -

sidewalk ( in Italy ) storefront - ( backwards ) -

momento - post mortum - pale - tumescent -

driving in circles - we arrived at the sceane -

in Italy - palm extended to the smoky mirrors -

dirty magazines - ashtrays - once again - read it slowly -

( backwars ) strung up - at the city dump -

all my efforts thwarted - yack - yack - yack -

if only you knew - near twilight - the jack pines are listening -

once again - read it slowly -

15 storefronts - pimps give you nothing - all that you need -

we arrived at the sceane -

I'll keep repeating myself until I break the mystery -

ashtrays - Berlin bar room - un operachi -

nearing the board walk ( 1942 ) Nina - on a train -

Hotel lobby - murderer's in very room -

tennement lift - warfare -

lifting velvet sacks up off the floor -

Dunway - downstairs - 15 minutes ticking -

winter wall - gas station nuclear light -

The doctors tools - all that useless morphine -

No dilaudeds - no nothing -

empty stomach and junk sick -

Its war -

the old stoop in chicago - the woman downstairs -

beneath the sink - still they manage - in a crowd -

chasing sleep - 17 hours wide awake -

benzadrine euphoria - hand up skirt - the camera zooms in -

ashtrays - italy - pale - tumescent - smoky mirrors -

something I said - walking through east Berlin -

repeat - snippet - 17 hours wide awake -

a tube of blood - bathroom stall -

mittens and warm coffee -

In Wisconsin - in winter -

coke and hash - someone stumbles - a bottle of rum -

( backwards ) at the city dump -

this philosophy can never be understood -

Gas station parking lots -

too many downtown turns - the theatre ( blackhouse ) burnt -

It's an empty apartment at 4 a.m. in the morning -

sagging lines - brentwood - classical arts -

seventeen hours wide awake - too much vodka -

( Scraps ) - repeat -

a tube of blood - ( carnival ) in Wisconsin -

prague - mittens and warm coffee -

the flowers have eyes which sway me to die -

ten cent unwashed vagina -

coke and hash - at the city dump - H. P. Lovecraft - 1942 -

walking through east berlin -

hand up skirt - ( on the cathedral steps ) -

benzadrine - ( dry cl*it ) -

Johnny screaming at the end of the hall -

a bottle of rum - whiskey shots -

( backwards ) coke and hash -

there will be no way out of this - ( narrative )

you stay - you understand - you die -

not exactly in that order -

Try now ( not ) fire - hermetic tin - why aren't you fragile (? ) - deep as the hole - battered
who was I - will I ever be - praying from skin ( this train ) ... then creep creep -
another room ( postulated ) hand grenade - teach the dog this, this - total immersion - in the
schematics of fate - last hunger for bread - any war - they terrorize commodoties - dormant
( carrion ) - people who is there: Government night has to be a scar - total wreck -
him to me -
those tiny fingerprints -
in snow the proof of my pain was evaporated ( cause/effect ) regional distribution - why don't
the senses shut down - where to ( ? ) you bank on it - slim shot store fronts agony restriction
when will my life get better - to whom am I speaking ( ? ) - all this static ( don't strippers
have hearts ) and wait awhile in death - to this sound it will be - us and where then a thin
causation tide will eat ( where is my name ) what is my sound -
does it say -
being afraid.
How do you stop the vein from singing
while my tired mouth craves more booze
to dialect the years that are missing
and replace indentured notes
of fondled precursors
one relapse won't hurt in a nearly five year collective

who would say stop?

what right is it to speak

out the side of your mouth
pu*ssy's I have known highway motels
and want to be a nameless freak
sad among many rodeo stars and solar plexis wh*ores

there aren't any precious moments

just badly stained church carpet with the spilt coffee of shaky handed junkies
and a circle of squares who have almost made it
spare me the crucifiction
the long sordid tale / the plastic key tags labled with the days of death

each one has a nick name

there's a story behind it all
" it's not that interesting " as Michael Douglas said in Wonderboys as he was passed out on
the floor in a womans pink bath robe

Godda*mn it, when you finger the days

there's just so much plastic chairs you can take
tucked beneath a table or left with your feet hung out
my name is...... sh*it for brains and I'm an addict
" Hi, sh*it for brains "
" Keep coming back, we need you, it works if you work it, so work it, cause you're not worth
it, and you know it, "
truth is the pump don't produce any water anymore
that's all I'm gonna say

don't care but I wish I could love,

not just myself but some indie bi*tch
who is'nt afraid to trade cut for cut

the room smells of showers

the room where we say our prayers
where we do everything but get down on our knees
the room where we share our stories and aphorisims and depleted knowledge
the room where we become humble and hurt and scream and reach out and grab actual
human shoulders instead of the whisps of smoke we've called angels
the room where we've stared too long at newcomers pretentious ti*ts
the room where we've not given enough hugs
as if that really drives out the urge
as if you loving me could keep me from my destiny
I am a fuc*king junkie for life
and I'm sick to death
and it's all less to me than it seems

this is the room where they won't remember you long after your gone
it takes a poet to hold all the faces that have fallen under in they're brain
the rest is, Oh yeah, what ever happened to them?
what the fu*ck do you think?

I think I'll go find my freinds, the fallen under, the come and gone, and we will start our own
room and drink sacred wine and tell the scared tale and never repeat the same line twice and
never believe in goodness or silencing our desire

eternal thing
I give you a real collapse.
where ocean I couldn't hold
and there of me was nothing
left but the hurt gash
cut a swathe through the night
telling me all about it
( There is a fire on the road )
planes going down
no moment that I can reach you
through television when Karma is solitary
water holds
the pain
that levels the mind.
( more from " The world Begins at this Dead End " ) 2002

Taillights busy blinking -

that 24 hour pull - dirty basin - faded wash - ( panama ) -

city of the dead dawn - prostitutes market -

my ash - my ruins -

this is the effort it takes to breathe -

merely breathe -

take your tongue and apply it at the pit and root of my as*s -

all cities in this pornographers shroud -

pawned t.v. and two rings -

in this nightmare where every thought lingers -

the gates of Babylon ( Berlin ) -

blood rising hungry to his co*ck -

In Harlem after dark -

( mad house magicians ) Gretta has taken off all her clothes -

the dead we left behind in vegabond metropolis -

mittens and warm coffee -

pimps give you what you need -

Belltower - Bataille - 8 floors -

a tube of blood - bathroom stall - gas station in Nebraska -

Broken down hotel in prague -

bruised moon -

still house imagery -

blue shaft - ( mushroom head of the co*ck ) -

a white tear from red slit eye -

the heart is a whore and heavy weight over the shoulder -

that 24 hour pull - Panama -

faded wash - dirty basin - ( Taillights ) -

benzadrine ( dry clit ) -

coke and hash - at the city dump - H. P. Lovecraft -

tear a hole - your as*s cheeks -

scraggly cu*nt hair -

what the finger stirs -

nothing survived of nothing -

I am leaning out on this harbor of ill regret -

In place of poetry is pain -

I am miles from your door -

not even God - underneath the heat - red death –

(" There's no way back beleive me. I'm writing you from there. " )
- Jorie Graham

life in me is so desperate - need a shot - ( who loves this ( way ) like anchor ) - the dream
needed more - not total where I am - can't this go further - am I out as much as the world will
allow - ( totem ) rising through the substrata - elusive lag - ( tired ) - that was the thing I
meant to tell you - when all my words were gone - the quivering loss I held in front of me -
barely a thing of youth to miss like the fallen light of day through a glass - time fails again - in
ways we can be sure of - don't under mine the fast work hate can do -
it has done to me -
in the fashion of a tide eating the earth -
more parcels of who you are -
gone to the dream of isolation -
( car wont start ) - put your hand across my face - detail ( details ) - sending across the...
and it... I will be stood against... rearview... bounded by... this thin tide...
granular hunger -
emotion curved -
start again -
( what will I bring you ) - counted removing and this and this ( then.... ) it's the one man
dance - midwest - partial sky –
the floor didn't come in - through - not to think where ( stop ) - fawn the color of light - cross
doors hallways to spare change junkie mattress ( toilet paper stars ) texico stations - on knees
in blue riding the fundament -
fundament rides out to the puncture where you are -
wrapped in the elements -
these tiny elements being scared of people a river of war - won't develop - dead, could I love
you? - sold to the system - we are again without eyes: enter the hospital - in my own room
swears the beautiful body - take them to the insect emptiness - I will never see you flat as a
figure -
soldiers light disk I exclude stay away hijacked the appearence split in two –
From " Door Dogs: Asleep in the park - Track Lost - 1985 " written 8 years ago in 2001

( Bogomolets ) isolation in panama - look of my arm - rape in Italy - eyes get poorer -
empathy - bone and spare - not a dime for the jade drains - injection of stone - junk - this is
more than a habit we're kicking - keys to Denmark - bathroom stall - courtyard littered -
across wooden stairway - sitting in a corner - the mushache doctor with his morphine - a
dream - Tangiers - Bronx alley - my mouth is full - midnight - filthy streets a foot deep -
Morrocco bay -

Oil burner - beat up - rustling - a little back - water - ghost town - I was there - other side of
the wall - dark revolver - price road - the white snow drifts - Kafka - smoking crack in the tent
bars - waistband - cu*nt - old barbed wire entanglements - underground - forgotten work
room - a memoir - visionary - haunting journey into the square of Berlin - quarter past twelve
- the answers are here - aristocrat - landlady - bathing in a twilight haze ( dirty bathtub ).
from: " Red German Dress: Persian Code - Metro system ' 1977 " ( written 2001 )

I'm going to sleep - on the corner - a purpose opens a door - and waves me in - focal point of
the room - cheap musky - ciggarette smoke - the remains of coal - door hanging off - I won't
appear - the girl is a vigarous performer - ti*ts tattooed - scratched - concentration camp
numbers - she has a vagina that can clasp you - like fore-finger and thumb - the scene where
I sleep walk - Russian - Ward's orbit - battened the hatches down - waiting for things to blow
over - febuary - fu*cking christ -
black and white - public grill - my fist up your snatch on a west bound passanger train -
the lights ahead - thinning - wh*ores - flog themselves down fleet street - ganja -

corridors of the nervous johns - Queensway in December - off toward Wardour street -
Veronica and her battered suitcase on the lonely tram - through the south of ( Berlin ) -
Porchester Road - two cinematic wh*ores in a bar - flemish tattooes - lots of ankle - the last
vestiges of dope and punch in the bathroom - Bus station - Geneva - before the war +.
Excerpt from my book " The Orson Wells Monkey Chamber of Sleep " ( 2005 )

( find the skin angry wound seething / tween Chinatown subway station every John and mick
gets a cold blue ) before what is ahead of you turns into what is behind you go find her and
tell her everything if it means treason and countries exposed there's no price that isn't worth
paying - then comes morning - what do I do with that - a place for everything but theres not
enough room - go back to sleep - tell them I'm not here - I've already gone - and murder is a
good alabi last night between 12 and 2 - a prosty down by the docks - ( lifes infinate mystery
solved ) a dead girls as*shole had the proud smile of a god - fu*ck spread poison from
unwashed mouth mule bast*ard who took 13 hours to reach the promised land - stories to tell
- how a man must die to learn to love - how two decades have passed and I'm just as bored
as when I lay paralyzed in my crib - this is the last effort - past the ditches of all retreats -
stand still -

you can go belly down through this wasteland +

no one real is alive +
all empty bodies +
just a little more time +
does anyone recognize my voice +
I am the beast behind the mirror +
That accounts for the end +
She will know that I created somethings good in her name +
the dark city +
childrens voices +
( Azura ) a mosque +
crumbled facade loose bricks +
the whole downtown swallowed alive +
show the baby your bones +
inch by inch +
black water +
Jehova is alive ( I want to be touched ) +

Mouth open alive +

take a tooth and show the kingdom my name +
without blood there was no real sacrafice +
dead engine +
know that I am real +
my fear - my transgression +
about to blow every train station in Europe to peices +
how about you and your plastic life +
man has alot of time to kill +

( Line deleted: too controversial and extreme for site or thread )

cute language for cute people +

cut your wrists + love is a circle +
paranoia is a joke +
drink blood from a dog bowl +
co*cks aren't sucked in this sector of the city +

( Another line deleted: )

on my bed your face transparent +

dark corner of the disapearing apartment +
cuts + scars + disapointments +
Hiroshima skin trash ( greyhound ) +
you'r suspicions are real +
they'll cause you not to remember +
she was alive +
different parts + sewn objects +
I know how this works +
you cease to exist +
i remember your smile +
no one else does +
you were more than another machine +
prophetic words spoken at 3 a.m. +

dance all night + at the diner +

December snow falling over buffalo +
drove into the desert +
your body in a bag in the trunk +
skin and bones +
flash objects +
smoke and disaster +
first impression - now in new york - home is: important hydro ( moxy ) real snow on horizon -
which is red - the color in give - now needing touch - words anything - words
( melting ) help it please - awful things with tendencies - towards - things converge (push)
primary ( notice ) number - dis-lashed - from tubes - nor feeding - out - silence (to) or sold - I
am begginning to not care what makes sense - there is perfect speech (crossing) cold
dogmatic street to river - dogs or drug idiots in the neon (hustle) size (mere) pictures of
(women) oversexed - in hoodlums (houses) -
watches - going from -
train rides (through) when things have ended -
nothing for sky (much) when motels keep lights on -
in swimming pool the leaves are dead -
isn't important so don't notice.
never handed clues (what look) here in the middle put you're heart in - place - putrid buildings
color dawn - not make any younger - faces (gook) these transmissions (audited) over didactic
carnivals (floors) ripped from basements - huge nor sky families in tin cans being chased by
dogs (cops) - now here goes written - much engine past cities into gold shriek - what is a God
(?) - does he make a poem the way I last in words (?) it's flavor - anyway - sound is going
higher places (than) witness - marriage to the vein - forced in - gesticulate the many
numbness - how numb to be when you speak - while speaking ( through the speed freaks on
the corner ) peevish outglance hurries (sordid) rec*tum - pallid skin where harbor (while)
harbor goes nodding -
here notice - nothing me -
feet are first -
borded - dying feat -
where air is solid - sillouhette - shoulder (to) not cry on - crying is the color red - disk out on
the meca - storm flushed out the horizon thin - highway marker - rubbed in corner - black car
goes through - seeking moments.
More from " The world begins at this dead end " ( 2002 )

I was born - and that is not all -

no lover - no grain of thigh -

I saw death the way it was meant to be seen -

that great hurt keeps on sleeping -

cu*nt - pubic hair puke -

rosy as*s cheeks -

sh*it stained panties -

whiff of heroine -

junky jazz -

feeling the rec*tum contract -

smoke - gasping - red rec*tal moist and skin broken -

down on claymont street -

it's no good to live so all alone -

one of the outdated rotten whores will keep you company -

far into the lone hours of the night -

reptilian's love overdose -

show your concern - 1979 - year of the Arab dream -

dislocation - machinery spell -

would've brought you flowers to the boxcar out back -

that resturaunt - long ago -

once, if I can still recall - I made love to you there -

every life short changed -

the St. Louis city dump -

charcoal landscapes -

I wanted to make it okay for you -

to step outside - a breath of solace at night -

no deadwinter Chicago -

no 1942 -

the gritted teeth -

the vacant 3 a.m. stare -

parking lot conversations -

reptilian's love overdose -

side street cafe's ( single heart ) -

who you meet on the way to Oz -

as you evolve -

loathsome - a mans second run -

piss*ing on broken down turnstiles at the sad carnival empty lot -

It's no good to live so all alone -

no returns here along this road -

where all that you say is recorded history -

my mouth is such a tragic affair -

lucky for you -

Boston - circa '78 -

you're tiny tea cups -

Vivian reciting literature in the rain -

I want to make my way back to that -

Trellis - '42 - after the high tide -

bad delima's -

Angelina - couphing up blood at the breakfast table -

dream of the blank canvas (surface) a disaster -

my eye sockets throb -

a dull ache in my chest -

phlegm - fishy smell -

backed up motel drains -

rest my head upon you're old violin -

In Paris - after hours jazz bar - (no, that was Yonkers, my childhood love buying me shots) -
puke out red -

slimy 4 a.m. smell -

garbage - a high heel shoe - (mine or your's?)

a torn party dress -

too many barbituates -

my brain a fuzz -

a dislocated disconnected dream -

on the tram home -

puke in the back of my throat -

there is punk girl across from me trying to make conversation -

but the ringing in my ears is too loud -

walking out through the bible bums - west 42nd street -

empty apartment -

hold me while I fall asleep -

as the whole city burns -

the poor children of Benston Road -

everyone packs a suitcase and leaves for Spain -

a small girl playing with a pack of tarot cards -

on the outskirts -

the carnival has closed - the play has ended.

From ( " On the Road to Virtue: Russian Twilight - Beneath the Stairs " ) [2003 - 2004]

The tunes of a player piano - roared - thunderous as who*res laughter - masterpieces -

matches - thick ugly convicts - grinning between - the legs - welcome to Berlin - urinals -
cheap hotel rooms - train stations - poetic bars of barbaric laughter - all of it conatins me -
broke into the fury - clocks ticking - abscessed tongue - her lips - chasing my blood - the
oddly forgotten - echo of gunshots - paranoying - tennements - hot innocent girl - leftover
sloppy seconds - dead cu*nt - theory and virtue - dark roads - German Opera against her
body - scars - leavings - the drowned hot blind misery - hysteria - nailed - unspoken -
underneath 19 or 20 bodies -

Her saggy Breasts - oddball stories - rift in the darkness - near the end - my co*ck - strangled
- bells of some distant harbor - black berry bushes - above the cu*nt - suspended - miserbly -
body of escape - language in her belly - her dead and warm - fed me her sex - cold winds -
sucking the pri*ck of a man - Parisian garden - some stupid body - more dangerous - my
vagina - my thumbs - innaminate bone - wiping sp*erm off her kissed red tw*at - I say
anything - to beleive.
when we nailed the body up
ipso facto
it screams infant red
while all the dresses are ruined

I've smashed her face

haggard bit*ch
tired and loose
I crammed screws through her memorys

all through this bleak midwinter

every one is made of black blood
god is choking
all of you're children are whores
where can I staple my thought?

How about against your useless cu*nt

all is more
in the digital earth where you went digging
there is an eerie afterglow
snuff films
the criteria for ejacualtion

mothers give up the ghost

and worship my teeth.

Held underneath the night

some beauty still that I find
worshipped under the claw
of midnights paralysis

While dreaming there are those

who wake with their bed frames hardly warmed
the matter loosens blood aganst the clot
where words were caught against

And I will always wonder if you made it

to Nebraska in that old beat up chevrolet
and slept in the roadside motel
that I undressed you in that first night in October

There are many things I should say

but we seldom know if there is reason to anything we think
So I will hide what indifference makes
of the storefronts that neon burns and the bus leaves behind

and many miles now that are before me

unlike Frost I have no promises to keep
I will only follow the imprint of snow across the highway
and tell you what dim secrets this city has stolen.

my teeth hit my ti*ts Im blood

fisted eye
fuc*king queer porn
by night lamp
twisted corpse
bugs out the a*ss / wall rind
hidden smell

go

god is cruel to my cu*nt

twisted sa*ck
new year city sprawl
every inch of blade / no habits to inform
I clean them well
those small brea*sts

men with their co*cks are missing as they go home from me

a tall tale to tell.

not even Hell can contain me.

the sh*it spoils in my daughters mouth
Im spinning flecks
and concerned over placement of the bodies

the sl*ut whose small inch dilated

it's like fu*cking with a pipe
in the cu*nt my open wound you know I hurt and dont care
for Gods di*ck I slobber with barbed wire
and intestenal feaces

why do girls bleed so godda*mned much

ti*ts scarred now we're playing blood sports
don't let Andy's rec*tum contract too much
a fruit basket of bones for your spoiled attitude

sh*itting in the bathroom sink

of the motel six
I wrap my belt around your cool aid neck
and fist fu*ck your mouth untill all your teeth are missing

placing 30 ( 4 cavities ) one abscessed chicklets underneath the pillow

screams through the walls
the porn flickers / static disrupts
red mucous
I see circular venus through your hole

now remember my poem on the bed sheets

you're name was stacy but I called you Gilda.
red donkey with the manufactured rec*tum.
The production of silence - I want nothing - bodies proprioceptive in the discourse that drifts -
nominal hunching red - crepesculum producing wandering castaways - the alphabet it's own
end - liminal human strewn papers -

you see I met this the other night - ( a picture of God ) - notebook but I forgot the idea -
mess of the sciences that measure -

whats without a dream?

listless
difuse

quiet company feeler party pairs

for some they are looking
untempered

aspect of sentence
sexual leaning subterfuge
plural night ( mare ) that red field ( mare ) nor Mary -
instantaneous
I could do myself in the ears -

pleasure without art is neither discourse

paring
collision.
in the movement of havoc tissues
me a slim lexicography
who is the enemy
i should tell poets tired become the secular horizon
encrusted becomes abject phantasmagoria spoken child
Bach’s cu*nt the only proof of cognitive collapse
nothing is owed to show for grunting
slow etymology x dying of course seeking perfunctorily disadvantage

a man is bare as*s

out of change in the mythic spiral of a hygienic inverse to a rusted pile out
no one has an origin
I have outlived all literature I have outlived the poem itself ( cries ) x
pis*sed from the collapse of monstrocity I never wanted a phenomenal freud lacking di*ck /
harvest blue

this material meaning anymore

different really worth
the gobbled out verse
the theater cannot absorb
Atrauds trace of condition
metric ryhme
diffuse nothing more that is new

clarity
sentence anything linguistic apart from de Sade
a birds conceptual balls
locating the delerium

art is a different material

no / going through that / x thinks - blood is habitual
afraid, causing punctuation marks
in the middle of thigh night –

One breath this morning

in a red dialing surprise
I haven't been admitted
since your last motel
sprung a voice
tired as the choir

whole celestial parts of me fell beneath the table

and rang the destitute ghost
bodiless deaf love

she tore me a letter

that wept one morning from her jacket
not so very long ago
I used to able to live up to the promises of the ages
now I barely mean it when I say hello.

Stop the car [ red ] rain - miles - both directions closed -

intersections of frozen pylons -
embryonic tussle in 2 a.m. motels
wind - hard reaching
the fields as fuzzy eye recedes into the open reduction

come away with me

not so far

bleeding on beaches
into bars
scream against my skin
the tire swing hallucinated violent love
ditch - off lane -
cringed by affection in door ways
fall out of nuclear winds subsumed across elongated landscapes

happy to invent these dying ways

ways in which we have tried
to castrate our normal selves
built to the delusions of body ( in of us ) sway -
where is soft attack: do you recognize war?

is it happening to you?
bedtime stories in the pool
shot into empty metaphor
come bury me in sex where you meet me beneath the wave [ white elephant ]
eyes immaculate
walk into my bones tired of the system of the world
and be done with me when you are done
torturing the phrase to turn out events

here goes:
down creeping white turn left to television screen.

dissolve anything I might say...

hate was never enough

blue pill
in the immediate minute
scratching sir dreams podium

I happen to like divorce from emotions

no goodbye
how deserts and me goddam*ned
gas stations through Vegas
where is the one god?

something of roadside disasters I have built

into my phone calls
to envision you
a mealy mouthed 16 years old
as I ate at your ears

when we get older the frown lines

hurt
to breath

How can I give a sh*it

and not have it cost me my whole life
if there was a thing to say
I think it would be how this love
goes out into the world as crooked evidence

I'm only so bitter.

Is there wind?
Is there?

a saturation of myself.
he left the parking lot
was there a sky?
driving home was adolescent
it's that time of the month

I can't crawl mysterious my inhibitions please

all door frames dance lucid under the light
I swam in the pool before the hotel was burnt to the ground,
girls, one girl, grabbing me by the hand,
in the valley below
it stays out of you're world

here is a suitcase,
here is a hunger,
alternative chicks mime the old, foe hawks and barbituates,
my grandmother will die
when I drive the north the roads will be white
there will be no home on the earth and the cold will eat beneath my nails,
this is the lake me and jimmy skated,
there is the wood,
telephone wires, danbury video store,
gary drank too much,

people, this is radio broadcaster calling for the memories

don't act surprised
I am here ( pavement in the valley ).

Doing things.
Does this enter after me
for sleep and abuse
pine truck hauls lumber across the highway
any motel
while I lick you ear

there are some who think love consist in building the perfect man
head to toe
the irony in that is it is one imperfection trying to perfect another

I wish you could see this fence freeze in winter

and how the tired horses stand
like paper cut outs on bedroom walls

is there anymore to the story?

Is life this life or another
whose mistake I have fallen into.
Is it this way everytime?
nothing matters and I don't see you're face
winter won't be over
only fools stay sober
I hate these pills you gave me
the blue ones you pulled from out of you're stocking
with so much eye liner
you're not the one who smells so good in bed

I have thought these many years

how like Yo La Tengo ' sleeping only makes me tired anyway '
and I wish there was only one last long run to the tide
nothing, after all, is more suicidal than snow

marxist orphans
sad white house full of chicago bravado
orators well spoken for cookie and milk americans
but the truth is, there is no truth,
our government hates us, they laugh at our raw hearts,
unemployment checks and a shovel for the nazi gas ovens

every poem ends this way

stuck between the teeth of a motel 6 wh*ore
her name was Amber
and she sang so sweet on her guitar
bruises across her arm
blonde hair in a Georgia back lot
where the sun does nothing but remain.
If this was taken from me / a few small steps / I know I remember every noise you made /
as if two people could encounter a world / now that two ( how many two's? ) is a one /
there are other details in the story / meaning I should quit writing about a she /
and besides who is this woman / or girl really / well if there's more I'm at it by now /
and it isn't enough / the fields go out alone at dusk / the heavy sky hoods itself against the
road /
the gravel backbone / I'm beginning to suspect that true poetry is the feeling a woman gives
you /
or doesn't give you / It's only a stride I'm after a twitch that separates the brow from it's
brooding
Revlon guck / oh jersey city / oh red bleeding yeah I've been through all the northern states /
It's how I clutch at my pen / if you let me stare at you're hand I'll never remember you're
name /
goodbye palisades mall / goodbye husker du / I tip my hat and fall off the face of the map /

And here ( where out now ) shadows seek /

while hand driving spills over the buffer zone /
killer side dozes off towards Buffallo /
hello ( keep me ) wiser than winter /
is that the only way to speak, then okay, ( non plus ) surface, I regret you're face /
all ambitious eyes /
while not a road sign in sight keeps us real /
is there even ( you-me ) real /
I'll tear up your favorite bar for that /
tiny ingestion /
and this ( while I shout to you ) from your fragmentary hill /
O suffer start a matheme in the focal void /
bury your face in women across the clouds /
does this make me naked /
skim the low fringe while tassels peak to blow out on a pipes edge /
I gave /
but plenty was restored /
you bitch / take out your piercings /
hardcore says to a wolf “ I'm available “ /
shock the heart young upstart /
I am a blanketful of young men / don't forget you said yourself to follow the ash /
so then there's that /
hold the knife while i cut your hug from off my skin /
those people wear tattoos / they cant be serious -

That's a voice / listen: really / from the fields was that you? / grasp the table lamp /
my dear hatfield and McCoy / the flame of the body not now grow inside to bursting points /
they will tell you this and this and then look /
thin snow and the belted girl with a hoop in her lip / to kiss a pain that thick
is like bleeding a scar / we want no more of that / then again if your awful to me /
and place you're blistered fingertips against my eyelids / I might give in /
oh isn't this – like some soft mellow kiss busting the nerve /
in street grime – there is some letter sent by louise from Baltimore who is marrying some
tiger again /
if I really doubted God I'd pray for the dressed out trailer trash sky to never go dark /
if you love me – pi*ss in my mouth / when I was a child I envied normal /
now how many years does that take / am I too forward? /
this while I know there's not a voice in the hall ( unchecked )

In times like this / reach out I'm overboard / now a nightly companion stowed away /
I regarded you as the sort of laughter one forgets /
when the snow is through I'm through too /
making my transmission / now the light is a black sun /
dialing reverb /
are you wearing blue beneath your jeans? /
after the rain and your pu*ssy smells like a rose garden drenched in sweat /
too much riding trains /
too much afterglow all alone /
isn't it (not) any bar girl punk pierce / guitar no drinks /
cum eyes / holy chair where I read you're stare /
fluorescent maggy / this is hell / I'm never alright /
watch the door / here come the london riot gear /
eye (red) balance sheet highway [ crying ] rusted mailbox /
and pills spilled on the motel bed /
we're all destined to die / midnight to america / you're dreams are my dreams /
Jack Kerouac now I know you're terror / only men fall this low /
I'm not a man / but I'm falling beneath the globe /

of course / I miss Kennedy (which one) / one God, one Kennedy /

his head opened like a flower / he said goodbye my beloved /
for I loved you too much / and they made me pay / no one has a home now /
are not anyone / in steel buses bugged with bombs / in motel after motel /
I love the earth, coke machine / all this: rain / stared after / the dodging of snow /
and now in love no one can forget this moment / oceanic feelings aside /
struts the dawn / it is to be /
impossible melancholy / paper scar on you're country knee /
coal is gold and we will all eat forever / from the lions hands /

And to that fear I say sleep / in a double bed by the early dawn / where we keep our secrets
in a drawer / if all they can do is shoot us before we talk / we have won /
there is a word we know and it does not need to be said to be true /
that word is love / and grows between us like a tree from the center of our stomach /
that long fateful walk along the sea / bullets are born in shells / but the sad part of our story
is that they calculated this walk along the shore / texico stations years ago and Greg Brown
and you, you're mexican skirt a song between us and the gas pumps / “ I wish I were a star “
she said,
“ because I'm no good at feeling sad, “ we know it's true / fence along fields that used to be
free...

total rest
one body
it happened and we were dumb
that got ruined on ice
future left
radio hummed
el camino's burgandy light
the beer fist of that waving girl
asphalt dreams
and hung over dog traps
you can't dream that kind of cadence
check the hem of your skirt before you start slinging mud
or marry me trailer dog
this kiss couple of crap stars of the honda hotel...

Fade...
and then simmer...
This Book is a work of fiction. The author has taken certain liberties with rather extreme and
offensive and at times racial stereotyping, the author himself does not hold these views
personally, and would like to apologize in advance for any offense that might be taken.
Creativity has no limits, but as artists we must be sensitive to other people’s feelings.

“ Lesbian French “

By: James Diaz

© 2007 - 2009
Dedicated to: Dr. Marc Lengfield, Theresa Bailey, Alison, (-B. Tripplett,) C. Plumay, and of
course, Clara Bow.

In Remembrance of Mike and Jamie Diaz.

Poets and street philosophers. Ravaged and lost by the punk 70’s.

And To my missing Grandmother, Mary Lou Diaz, artist, painter, writer, And mother.