Tuesday, February 28, 2006

A Butterfly Dream

the dream , I just remembered
oh, were her wings so grand
so delicate and beautiful
in the fall before the land
now from afar she was quite a sight
fluttering the way they always do
like the words on lovers lips
and sun in early morning dew

now I recall the desert
where thoughts came into mind
this air’s too hot and dusty dry
that wicked sun’s just too damn bright
the rains divorced this sandy sight
and the wind, well she’s out for the night
no, this place is never right
for such an exquisite butterfly

yet, we were bound to follow her
and she our trusted guide
and no one ever questioned
weather it was wrong or right
light we were with laughter
and heady was the wine
her wings spread out before us
tempting to take the dive

the sun was then split
splintering white
through our thoughts
and over our eyes
her silhouette against that light
was picture perfect of a life
where you no longer haveta fight
without the hope to guide you home

placing a hand upon my brow
to aid in sol filtering
I viewed her tremble with the heat
as the colours drained from me
holding my heart up in my throat
as our lady wavered in the air
threatening to plummet
all we could do was stare

so on she flew
and we all knew
exactly what we had to do
we started this to see it through
she was the hardest one to lose
but sometimes you just gotta choose
between the valiant dream
and the misguiding ruse

our friend she was collapsing
out from above the sky
her beautiful wings in shambles
she could no longer fly
so we gathered up our bearings
and fed her tiny body to the land
guiding her soul into the light
where she’d take wing again


bit through my tongue
blood soaked up the pillow
like a bad cocaine morning smell
bleach needles with every nasal inhale
I’m surprised my face hasn’t fallen off yet
cause you only get so many layers of skin
before you flake away
take this and talk to it like habit
I’m paranoid of sleeping frozen
and seeing the day under these dark circles

who needs an alarm clock
when your own violent shakes el’ wake you up

.i grew.

i grew in love with your pictures...
i grew intolerable of your face.
i grew.
then, i grew in love with a russian stripper for four minutes...
and i hated it all.
i was spacing out behind the wheel,
and it was only quarter to three.
but i was watching the vapor trails of exhaust
forming on the car bumper in front of me.
i grew in love with your pictures...
i grew intolerable of your beautiful, beautiful face.
i grew so much...
then i realized;
i am the radical from your college campus.
i am a complete and total mind rapist.
and as those taillights faded into the dark,
i hurled my keys across the street
just as my tears hit their button to start.
i grew in love.
but i grew more and more tired
with every tear;
with every passing cloud of carbon monoxide.

educational resource center

running around this lobotomy
tryin to figure out what’s wrong with me
searching for a finger to stick in my brain
fish around for awhile and pull me out again

maybe it’s the venom movin around my veins
or the medicine they’re making me take
or the truck that barreled straight into my face
or perhaps I just need to get laid

devious shit
devious shit
I can’t take much more of it

maybe I’ve got syphilis

this is shit
fuck me

fuck my lack of libido

fuck these stupid numb letters
stuck together
making pretty words
and dumb sentences

and all that other SHIT
you happen to convince
your little insane pea brain
to believe in

someone shake me awake
I’m tired of sleeping

Special Guest Post

I wear this ring for you,
you were the only person I could
think of, the only light in that box
it was a great show, I couldn't wait to
tell you about it. I got souveniers
for you. I can't wait to give them
to you.

I miss all the babies


Monday, February 27, 2006

Away Message 4162

i'm sitting close by, contemplating dissapointments and let-downs, realizing that

for what it's worth i'm killing myself without even trying
and i'm starting to notice that i'm not the only one who's dying
and when the whole human race is dead and gone
we'll be moths encased in glass and tacked to the wall
embalmed and not rotting we talk without talking
we can't see a thing, our eyes have been ripped from our faces
but breathe easy as we are far from dangerous places
the glass seperates us from any harm
like china dolls in their pristine charm
give me a thumbtack, i'm ending my life
to start living dead, embalmed and frozen in my prime
wasting away without wasting away
behind this glass... i'm here to stay

Sunday, February 26, 2006

natural bridges

reflections off ice cold windows
light that cant escape
like the light caused
by the friction of road
sick fingers rubbing those
state-line weary eyes
maybe the other side of that
glass is just a story we
tell but we don't believe

so when we make our way on
with divining rods and Adderall
and if everything else is made
of chemicals then i should be too
so don't tell me your wish
or it wont come true
every heartbreak is a miracle
told in ink-stained rhyme
dragging behind
reality yellow dust
and right now now this ocean
is a miracle
and a parking space by
the swings is a miracle
and warm breath on
ice cold windows
is a miracle
when it's better to exploding
than to be free

if natural bridges can
crumble into the sea
is there any chance
maybe someday so could we

Saturday, February 25, 2006


I love you
Like a prisoner
Loves a warden
I won’t be
On any trains tonight
And I won’t be
Sipping any gin tonight
I won’t be
With a fool tonight
And I won’t be
Hearing rock and roll tonight
You love me
Like A lord
Loves indenture

just please

tell me you wanna pour a bucket of hope over my head

tension is a killer

yeah, I’m a horrible person
I’ll be the first one to admit
cause these eyes are crazy ones
and I just don’t give a shit

all this dancing light
the raindrops and the spit
and the way we waste our precious time
has really made me sick

I wanna leave this racing car
through a window that I’ll break
cause I’d rather sleep in vomit
and feel the pavement on my face

damn, I’m so unsatisfied
with the lack of love we make
but no, I wont write that book
cause there’s too much here at stake

now worry not my little friends
the bunny hasn’t died
narcotics have her bound and gagged
and she’s napping for the night

so pardon me for feeling so
belligerent and snide
my head just hurts and my spirit’s heavy
with the other me I hide

"Have you ever seen a silhouette on the horizon and thought it was a guillotine?"

by request

sorry i got nothin for you, babe
sometimes on the humming mad phone lines
or at times with those eyes lazer beaming straight through mine
i think yer pleading
in a deer headlamp transaction kinda glance
or with a slight wind agitated quiver swimming beneath the words on your voice
sorry i got nothin for you, babe

in the old days when the mythic creatures still rolled around
before the fog pulled back into the forest underbrush
there were whispers of a rumor
a fear of a dead dream
and countless tomes of literature on the subject
but really

you were dazzling beautiful hurt the eyes so bright
when you began
we all were
like tungsten and starlight and sunspots, and snowflakes
yes and cloud to cloud lightning
that you can't see cuz the whole night goes into
one daylight instant convulsion then black

but then the mess and the mud
and the clothes and the chill in our bones
and thats just the way it goes
always has, ever will

sometimes at night
i sit straight up with a bullet
the dream shaking off
vines growing in reverse
the feeling in the tips of my hair

to breathe one thousand butterflies in that moment
a holy sneeze or a slap in the face
i will be yer judo chop if you'll be my long lost friend

but in the end
the truth of the sin and the rain
and the catastrophe of brain
is simply this

you were dazzling beautiful hurt the eyes so bright
when you began
we all were
like tungsten and starlight and sunspots, and snowflakes
yes and cloud to cloud lightning
that you can't see cuz the whole night goes into
one daylight instant convulsion then black

some half cocked budhist monk
probably mutters about
the nihility of being
or some zen trash
just words
cuz all you need to know

you were dazzling beautiful hurt the eyes so bright
when you began
we all were
like tungsten and starlight and sunspots, and snowflakes
yes and cloud to cloud lightning
that you can't see cuz the whole night goes into
one daylight instant convulsion then black

other then that
sorry, i got nothin for you, babe

Friday, February 24, 2006

shut the fuck up and stop wasting my time

the job killed me today
i am survived by those surviving
so many things i've yet to see
and the words keep flowing pointless from the ones i had called friend
nothing poignant or influential just ways to waste a way
what am i now, twenty-two going on bed ridden
i hate this life
i hate the weather
the surf is good on either side but today i miss the rest of you too much
its funny how you care for strangers when the ones you know can't give a damn
i miss the sands of Barstow
the cavernous regions of Arizona
and the beer of a foreign bar with an old friend who never once dodged my attempts to connect

The Wave That Ends It

well i think if the sun comes up tomorrow
the sea should rise up with him
capsized schooners bouncing matchstick style
on a big kahuna swell, thats more like it

i believe we're all well aware that disaster makes alot of money
maybe thats what God intended, or not?

watch the talking heads tomorrow, they'll let you know
just how devastated your uneducated
eyes are permitted to cry
but there's hope, there is always hope
in stillborn agencies and human-anities
always ready for human tragedy
with sandbags piled up to the sky....
i never knew you could stack shit that high.

well after the news vans are washed away
and after the fundraisers are extinct
and after you stop worrying about tomorrow today
i think we can all drown safely
i think we can all drown safely

I feel the tears
but my face is dry

She was so tight and steady
even under the influence of all those wild stars
Slurped a bit but never once spilt the wine.
At one point her eyes did deceive her.
If she had taken another step forward
like a rabbit, she would disappear down that hole.
Upon further inspection and a reconfiguration between brain-waves and optic nerve endings
the ground reappeared, revealing her own wavering face and the puddle behind it.
A porthole reflecting the night.

He was concerned and anxious for her return
standing in the numb amber haze of ancient street lamps
numb to the bite of winters sorrow.
This is where she started to run,
for no apparent reason.
Unaware of the air freezing around her.
Perhaps someone had set the clocks back.
Maybe she felt she needed to keep time.
Anyway you looked at it, she was passing.

Tearing by obscure bars, an abandoned boardwalk, and the skeletons of countless fragmentary structures,
her shoes found the stone earth stretch that separated present desolation from the care free class of the past.
He was there
on the other side.
She could smell the freshly ironed starch on his suit jacket as his pristine eyes gleamed in anticipation across the frozen field
The idea of his hand against her cheek finally brought her spine a shiver.

Then, there was only movement.
The leftover blades of petrified grass crumbled under her feet.
She rushed right past the whipping wind
and over all the lost ages.
Stay in motion or else you’ll fade into the vastness of this lot.
She ran until his arms found her and they trembled there a moment,
escaping neoteric time as the night passed through them.
Their modest love, antique.


Thursday, February 23, 2006

Lyrical, Mystical
Living in Miracles
Ignoring Commercials
Laughing At Particles
Reading the Articles
Because they're Oracles
Swelling like orchestral
Music with Radicals
Dancing Like
Fools, Fools, Fools

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

i'm gonna go now

102 degrees
too much throb bang
and tomorrow gonna scream with the mouth missing teeth
shoes don't fit
nothing really does
an ache all through out while the rest go by and by and by
no more snot nosed ignorance babydoll
i am breaking
i am broke
no more misty jersey after
gonna find the place where i can die
leaving the corpse tan and blonde and toned with salt water hair and a belly full of life

two on old men

old men in the mountains
outside bogota
drink pinto and caniaso
while cursing over dominies
on Sunday

old men
always seem to have
impecably polished shoes
to contrast the deep
running wrinkles
that cross their faces

we all lost something
a little bit of empathy
when bench seats went out of style

so slide on over
those hips look so
lonely, and
whisper some directions
in my rambling ear


I ain't here to confess
any sins
but I can sure help
to drink your
sacramental wine

the joy of killin time

wicked little clusters
even the word upturns bother
malfunction of heredity
and genetic questions

this brings to mind addiction
yours and mine alone
could engulf every firefly
in passionate frenzy

and stumble we will
down distant cobblestone
hanging off your arm
to steady the fall

an earthen fae
makes life outa fear
reminding us all
to watch what we dream

and I couldn’t find the apple pie
between the pages on the road
I guess someone musta ate it all
cause I sure didn’t

the kid thinks weird of me
and the strange company I keep
can someone be that conservative
with only ten under his belt

and I ‘ve fallen in love again
with the tree branches
and the wind in them
and the leaves falling outa time

you know how they say
an apple a day keeps the doctor away
but what if the apples too big and you’re too sick
to take the bite and swallow

I ‘ve got a friend
who gives out rings
and some don’t think
until glanced at funny

tonight could never end for me
but I haveta stop and get some sleep
even though the rooms to cold
to wake up in

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

Tonight is a wonderful night for science

At the waves of moonlight
are also particles
In warm August night
We shout Principian expletives
And act so biological

You quiet my dissertation
you may interject
In eccentric flirtation
That you adore the color light
My eyes choose to reflect

Twisting your mouth into a grin
the sodium chloride I lick
Leaves wet patches on your skin
And we fall asleep slowly
To the hum of plate tectonics

There has never been
A better night for science


shedding lizard skin
and a tourniket
tuesday mornings
or watered down soup
that old iron oxide
a vitamin taste

with all the taste of last night's acid trip
truth is to human a concept

blenders spilling out white cosmic noise
maybe its osmosis that draws poetry
outta moments in droplets
hands shaking and the room's a mess again
suddenly i'm starving
blood and wine stains are
equally reminiscent in this light
blenders spilling out white cosmic noise

life has a knack for landing on its head

and now you've got to ask yourself
is my jaw line strong enough
throat feeling the weight
of everyone of those cigarettes

where do you buy a ticket
for Dante's Inferno
cuz the circles of hell
would be one hell of a place
to drag a date

in a hotel room
a shark called me viking
and assured me
we would drink
with Thor
in Valhala

pain killers and folk music
driving on snow covered roads

in the mornings
there's beer on my breath again
women are crippling
and i don't need a gypsy
fortune teller
to let me know
there's a cavity in my future

immaculate night
holy glowing cigarette cherry
nature's hesitant inhale holding off dew

yer sisteen chapel eyes
make me wonder about
grabbing yer hand in a breakneck moment
draggin u out wordless
of this black and white movie life
burnin a handful of tomorros with u, instantaneous
cuz i got no reservoir romance for u, babe
but what i do got
is a cinematic vision of 120 minute frantic love
a car that does 90 mph with some gas in its belly
and yer sisteen chapel eyes

of course we came with a white rabbit

you better believe
there be tricks up our sleeves

we dont pull rabbits out of hats
we bring em to bars and holidays
and watch what they spark

no illusion,no mirrors, no smoke
just the magic and dreams that were spoke

of course we came with a white rabbit

(thank the cosmic comic gods for that dang bunny, she's magic)

An emaciated Asian
In spandex
Dancing like a cartoon skeleton
And I’m drunk again
This bender just won’t
End and
I think it’s because of you
I wouldn’t care
If this was one
Of those things
An affair
You know
Go on and keep you’re girlfriend
But on me
A good lay
You could depend
In the morning
I wouldn’t be there
Because I checked you’re
And there’s no eggs
And there’s no bourbon
If you really wanted me
There would be

A Pleasant Story of Love and Occupation in Uzbekistan

He applied for the position
In the panic office
Where they put bombs
In all there orifices

Because she loved him
She asked a favor
In his honor
From the commander

Sympathy was extended
He had employment
Happily ever after
In old Tashkent

matt fisher used more words in one day then all those poets have in their entire lives collectively

Monday, February 20, 2006

Why I Don't Read

I saw your face tonight
and the confidence there
the microphones voice
a new bold lust
perfect flirt
of wine

I saw your face tonight
shameless beauty
can I sit with you
going where
holy things fall
on the floor

I saw your face tonight
the satire of dreams
a little wilted, yes
but what a wonderful read

I saw your face tonight
like a door slam
where the glass breaks
I was startled
and entertained
in you steady beat

I saw your face tonight
something happened there
when your foot hit stage floorboards
you were transformed
without falter
or a shy stumble over words
tall romantic drunk

I saw your face tonight
like a parade
you lead
with quite a handle
and a top hat
to march on

I saw your face tonight
outa the corner of my eye
renewed you are
and I’m glad
for that my friend
is something to write about

I saw your face tonight
wonderful comic strip
well spoken mop top
a surprise indeed
to all

I saw your face tonight
wild pretty eyes
searching for mine
I knew enough
not to look
until you turned
for my own sake

I saw your face tonight
that of movement
of dreams
of hope
and reality
of posture
and pride
you are the iceburg
and the volcanoes threat
a beat to walk by
true souls
strong and brave

me, I'm just a timid wide eyed rabbit

and I just met you all in a bar

Thank You

Walking Idioms took over the Brighton Bar

I just want to thank everyone who came to the brighton bar on sunday and for reading and all that. The Idiom is now a hit there and hopefully i'll get in contact with some people that want to do a public reading with people from the idiom and walking english at some art things. the next issue i want to put some groundhog literature into it but it all depends on what you write and put out there. it can be stories from this year or any year and remember that most people who read it woin't get most references so try to explain stuff as much as possible, or we could just confuse everyone which also seems to work as well.
Remember even bunnies can take over the world

Mark a.k.a. The Publisher


Sunday, February 19, 2006

susan and lilium

little jett black olive
adopt of the orient
hands to her thighs
eyes on the floor
as it moves

when it rains in her car

the joy to be found
in shattering a pen
antifreeze dreams
to keep you warm

so much like breathless
unbelief with
first look
of draining horizon

Saturday, February 18, 2006

confessions through thirty two cent stamps
words crafted of vacuous oak
an undying love
stabbing with steel regret
at convalescence

it was an unhealthy era
bliss and fire-hearted souls
unaware of chemical corruption
penniless, painless
without pulse
or push
or fuel

everything that was thrown
and missed
walking on puncture wounds no one sees
or respects

in this stupid fuck dance and light fight
sweating over every word
the whole lot
on eggshells

stagnant dreams
stuffy air
gasping for
simple breathing situations
without whole weather fronts

pouring over boiled water for the burn
the night before

these distractions
guess they’re what’s
to keep arms empty
just long enough
to get drunk
and forget

and I can’t write to save my life
so tonight I burn

shit unseen
haunts ones dreams
just like a tease
or a tear
on the cheek
of a friend

and I’m so allergic to my work
so tonight I burn

it’s been made clear
we’re all adults here
but in fear
of which way to steer
ones self

and I’m sane without her and all the fur
so tonight I burn

time crawled
like a feathers fall
and traffic stalled
amongst it all
before eyes

and I’ve filled this plate so full of fate
so tonight I burn

Friday, February 17, 2006

glimmer on little girl
and the shine comming off
your soul, your eyes
will never hit rippled waters
like it does right now
like it does right now

the way the air moves
the bottoms of skirts
helps me remember to breath

the solution

the longer i live
the more i see
life imitating
the advertisements

i don't dream of a better world anymore
but if we could just make the perfect ad campaign...

on the causeway that night
i saw saturn swollen and rising
glancing at the moon
just like Satan and God

and i wonder if tomorro
i'll buy saturn a drink
in the bar down the street
as he conjures plots
involving fruit and sin

valentine day in a diner

lonely eyes
with no one to stare into
fidling with silverware

i like
familiar sets of lips
reaquainting themselves

kindred spirits catching up
after birth

do you like the feel of air
moving against your ear
when i lean into your hair
to whisper over pumping ampliphiers

Thursday, February 16, 2006

Take me back to the rivers of belief
and I'll light the fire behind your eyes

For Those Who Dream and Vomit.

If you know me.....or know of me, or would like to know me better,
I have been dreaming of vomiting since I turned 21 on the 13th of October this past year.
The potential threat has presented itself for quite some time now, unfortunately, to no prevail.

Certainly a sad and wilted thing.

I would like you all to know that tonight, with the help of a Chef salad covered with Ranch dressing, fatigue, French Vanilla coffee, a glass of shitty Merlot, followed by a glass of Cabernet, the gyrations of an outstandingly attractive blond woman in a leather jacket and stiletto boots, topped off with an Intyer lemon drop shot, Punk Rock brew, light headed, over heating long-johns, Love Mussels, Jelly Beans, Clowns, a little bit of Sun straight off the Island, and some crazy smiling cat singing "Devil Went Down To Georgia", with a Doctor on call,

I Elizabeth Emily D'Agostino, have indeed accomplished my goal.

I have seen the light at the end of this long, dark, hard tunnel of travesties.
I have viewed a LSD laced Salem Halloween with strangers. Danced outside a Wal*Mart dressed as a Bunny. Made illusory love to a weather predicting groundhog from Punxsatawney PA, all without the sweet release that accompanies a good ol’ fashion retch.

Just yesterday I was saying, "Big things are about to happen for us all."

Point proven.

I've flipped the switch.

It’s you fine folk that have helped me to do so.
Are you all ready to ride this rollercoaster?

You're not really alive unless you vomit.

Thank you.
I will enjoy my dreams tonight.......you should have seen it...


Wednesday, February 15, 2006

bundled up angel
dark and absorbing
all silvery light
long stemmed flower
sitting among coffee
circles and smoke

when the wine
gets drank, and
you feel the
night get late
wonder who will
be your Valentine

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

Just a little Russian humor....

Children, what does it mean "I love, you love, he loves?" - asks a teacher.
I think, - Vovochka answeres, - it is such a situation, when one will be surely killed.

......thank you Alice

I finger the dice
That I forgot
To take
From my pocket
When I got home

Like breathing
It makes me
Think of you

There's Fever In Her Song

"I’ve seen your flag on the marble arch
and love is not a victory march
It’s a cold and it’s a broken Halleluiah"

open your eyes into the night
she’s just an ill and wilted sight
and those eyes are only holy blue
against pale and fading
backdrop dew

thinking now
of St. Jerome
and the river water
in Jeff’s throat
she just needs someone
to take her home
this day

don’t look to find what’ll make you right
in her
it’s all imagination
and a tired tear
to tare down in the morning

there was a girl in there somewhere
she thought she was found
but it’s nowhere
now all you know
is just a hole
to fall in

"And it’s not a cry that you hear at night
it’s not somebody
who’s seen the light
It’s a cold and it’s a broken Halleluiah"

No Help

I don’t sleep anymore
Though the morning sun
Doesn’t know me
I hide inside
A dark cardboard box
And all new beginnings
Pass me by
When I come out
I am just a flag
To signal that I
Am still technically alive
But tattered
and drab
And at half mast

Monday, February 13, 2006

ebola virus and the children of lipstick

sick still
not a voice or a touch
just that vomit in the throat that itches to spew forth and destroy the pretty floral patterns that adorn your little lives
sick still
i feel like stabbing the soul of reality and dying
lying down in the mouth of you all
can i clean my teeth with shards of your broken bones
i decided to cut you all off
out of sight out of mind just a dead man who won't die
ghost don't need companions
aparitions walk alone
in preparation to paint the town red

just enjoy

he’s got this light
all about his eyes
every time
he thinks of her name

he’s silly
with confusion
and all the excitement
running around in his veins

tomorrow he’ll flail
fall or prevail
when his feet
find the earth once again

she’s waiting
where it’s sunny
heavy with wonder
of what his presence will bring

I sit here
and listen
as he stammers in story
how his love is a funny thing

just remember who you are
what you want’s
not that far
just a step off a plane my friend

for the mad ones ive seen haulin ass this month

from strange furnaces
unholy and mythic
these mercurial saints
new Thors and Vishnus
barroom gods
concert parking lot prophets
busride heroes
not by virtue of tongue or thunderbolt
but by the girating of life and lust

picture them wind torn
riding out hearts of north east storms

winter run

outside the window
is white cold tempura
while inside
they’re playing your song

the lights hurt in my head
from last nights latest mess
and this ink
it just wont rub off

she dreams of spilled wine
how it happens all the time
with arms polite enough
to take her straight home

I wanna run again
with my head high
and my arms spread
into all the parts of your soul
the ocean she is heavy
and I wanna take you with me
but you swim
where your hearts made it’s home

when I run away
I guess I’ll be runnin

Let's All Clap

I have work tomorrow and have to be up at 6:30
I will work from 8:00am to 4:00pm
Putting together giant stained glass puzzles
Then I will more than likely take a nap
Just thought you all should know
My face will wake up with the sun

little noise in my sisters trailer

I shushed my sister
With my finger
Tuned into the mew
She said it was the kettle cooling
But she was wrong

I knew
it was
The whirling toothpick
In an erstwhile skull
I once recognized

might have been
The creaky cage
At the center
What it holds
I’m not so certain


It could have been
Existential Sparrow sneering
At me and my
Transcendental whimsy
How I desire
To create the sublime
But produce the picturesque
Or how I long to fall in Love
but wind up fucking slobs

Sunday, February 12, 2006

outa the bowels of the earth
with a face like a child
embedded wisdom in his eyes
they spoke through nature
the swiftness of lightning
and how the birds fly


Through snow stained glass
I see blue fire flashbulb
Frozen time and dark
Like the war has been brought
Home over a car lot tundra

That's waiting for someone who
Recognizes the lay of
The land burried alive beneath
This town, with its houses
Engulfing houses inside houses

a lonely hummmmmmmm of
streetlamp blues

I'm glad there's a lunatic
At the wheel cause the roads aren't
Any place to be unless you're a rare breed
And I'm glad the knowing vegan girl tried
To save his soul but those diner blurred

Eyes are taking the long way
Through me. I just need to see
The wind toppling giants as Zevon tells
Me stories of Biafra and I'm filled
With 17 different kinds of lust right now

but that's not important
not right now
what's important is

Sometimes I dream we make our
Way to Mexico and drink Sangria
Out of earthen cups, lie in the wet
Air, see different gods and make
Love when we talk about America

as if there's a change
in current
when you're thinking of
a furnace dream
knees bent
and oceans of dirt
between your

sitting on boxes
of what you deny
but at 3 am it's
always on your mind
leaving open questions
of how you remember time

memory of jackie

i remeber the perfect feeling
of warm concrete against our backs
in cool summer driveways
and tracing whole constellations for you
with one straight finger
and an August sky

tv says

Bob Anderson doesn't believe the hype

Of sunny dispositions
And diction
And flowers

I grow younger
And I stammer
And I blush

Please keep talking
And looking
And puzzles

I lift lightly
And politely
And soft

in a goodbye hug

Saturday, February 11, 2006

gods shaking the cold dust off his shoulders

the romance of the desert
the footsteps of Lazarus

I saw a hawk
mad with wind
and banking

these women
their blackhole eyes
my starship soul

great stories squandered on poor story tellers


we were all holed up in the blessed Eagle Manor Motel somewhere in a western Penn's Wood against a light rain like poetic and patient drug addicts. Clasping a bottle of Mad Dog 20/20 I was slowly falling in love all over again and counting my pills in their noisy celliphane-3 green, 1 brown. i watched as an entire dental office staff fell on the carion of the Pabst thirty pack in the dull glow of a convenience store that seeped through the windows. i think i remember fire alarm, house keeping, homoerotic performance art, broken sleep. a door was kicked open by the ghost of alcoholism. i was lecturing on the anthropological importance and use of the atl atl to this blonde girl with new pages and aviator shades.


do you believe in magic
in guitar slinging publishers
in taller then life faith healings
in weather predicting groundhogs
in dreams
in red wine kisses
in electric air on cold nights
in cloud to cloud lightning
in the things you've seen

things were easier

under watchful eyes
under achieving
now its water
under the bridge

two poems at night

mad with the luster
beat boxing
crayon moon
dangling starlight mobile
mahogany skinned women
rambilin' rambilin'
I've juxtaposed every girl in my head

electric nights
ricochet moonbeam shivers
the way the cold conducts
ice crystals
pains of glass
fogging breath
lunar dreams in the dark

mother made the coffee
into a one pint
measuring cup

without question
I poured in
two ounces
of vanilla cream
and sat over it
with her

just a body's rest

my neck makes worse this aching back
last night was all too loose
and I’m having trouble feeling
the toes inside my shoes
so I’m taking a long nap

the Hollywood in my head

last night I had this dream
that we were fucking up our friends and family
cause they were all zombies
like in the movies

cross-eyed and....

there’s pain in my breath
and a hole in my chest
that I keep telling those Md.s to look at

Friday, February 10, 2006

can you grab a cheetahs tail as it flys by in hot pursuit
or throw a stone into the wind and watch it float back to the earth
can the elephant sleep on a mousses tail without the fear of nightmare
will the sea ever meet the Midwest flats and all the other dusty corners
could a raindrop kiss an August blacktop without turning into steam
would the mistress ever enter into a wined wives dream
when will cigarettes stop causing cancer
or will we one day forget how to make the fire
and can we ever give back the Native America land
can you come home from the shore without all that sand
would one feel no remorse for a butterfly they caged
and could you read without words on the page
can your feet fit into my shoes without any pain
and would you win if you never played the game
will we learn to speak with the gag in our mouths
cause my hand just wants to know what yours is about

My 10 year old brother knows more about love...I mean volcanoes...than I do

Shield Volcanoes

by Nathaniel

A good way to describe what happens when a volcano erupts is by shaking a bottle of soda pop. A shield volcano erupts by plate-tectonics. This will build pressure caused by a chemical reaction. Usually there are signs a volcano will erupt soon. Under each volcano hot magma is stored in chambers. The magma chamber is full of magma. Both sides of the volcano bulge. Most of the time there are earthquakes right before a volcano is going to erupt. Sometimes volcanoes erupt for three to four weeks and then they rest. After a volcano erupts it is usually not as dangerous for the people that live on it.

Wednesday, February 08, 2006

highway lust

there's an idea
to hide
and love
to sleep
and live
in lucid dream
to see it all
in nameless color
to dance
without song
amongst tidal waves
and motionless roller-coasters
these faces
know no love
like that the road yearns for
of hot rubber
or friction
blue-eyed skies
daydream accidents
dirt sweat
salt air
rain and wind blown
tangled hair
to trap a moment
in an old Merlot bottle
with only a cork
and an idea
of that road
we could travel by

"there's a tunnel...right?"

come with me
let it flow
for i have found
lost shoes
and strides unspoken of

the foreign craft of travel
crossroads, compasses
and delirium

blisters know these roads well
and we can only hope
to forge on
and stay lost
one moment longer

to take the late train
with wild things
nipping at our heels

"But not, no, I don't believe, you can't convince me, that even in this day and age of wild rage and lightning fast thought-evolution flying under burnt lemon skys, that there is no clay beneath my feet that can truely hold my image. Man can name all the animals but try to carve your hand print into a mountain and let the earth show you who formed who.

I've always been one to know my place, and I want the dust covering my feet, I want to be the sculpture the earth makes in fit of inspired boredom, never to wash myself down this world has eaten better men than me alive and perhaps I'll just be a hunter-gatherer, praying that the buffalo would show me mercy and lets make a wild moment of it, it is the natural order of things"


sometimes it's not a good idea
eyes open to mad scenes
of broke-dancing believers
and I'm hanging back
in an empty trunk
listening for fireworks

the streets
they weren't ready
for these rituals played
out like ancient card game
the festivals can get
the best of us

I'm five miles from desire
wondering what my shadow looks like


it's a little like Canadian rain water
trickling south
how there was sun-
flower in my road worn teacup
facing through thick leaves
but everyone knows that
trees were built in photoshop
your ears are made of gasoline
and I'm all lit matches

Tuesday, February 07, 2006

kneckties are live-in hangmen

cutting pieces of the good days to create one perfect minute where i'll spend the rest of my life circulating an idea that tomorrow never comes as long as you don't fall asleep so a month is just a day with many shades of purple eyelids crawling through the wet newspaper
no there are times where i've abandoned all hope of finding peace of mind, but now i must confess that there's no time no time no time i'm late and so we travel through the void of self loathing and i've been down this road so many times I think the bullets taste like fruit juice and television cuts your soul in half are you listening you idiots just try to understand how useless and abandoned you are and I'll fire one off through the back of your skull at your request just don't make me go home alone I'm thirsty for a Bordeaux blackout

Monday, February 06, 2006

something, maybe just the accidental aftermath of whiplash, crept around in the muscles lieing over her cheek bones. a flicked switch or twitch. she throws down a wall. only a small one. too bad about the part where they could have been...you know.....coffeecake friends. a star gaze and lightning eyes. shit! she wants to, through clenched teeth, talk about stealing the covers, over and over and over and over and over......and over. if she thinks too hard about the water she’ll drown. so she stays dry...most of the time, and only lets it rain when she remembers his hands. on the small of her back. traveling.

through thick film left on the back of my eyelids and pieces of a fragmented mind
in near-dawn hours you were a mess unspoken of teetering and stained
my only thought was we could travel well together thrown feathers at the wind wined and dusty eyed lapping at the milk of the land dancing or not into dream
then sunlight shattered windows dove into bed tickled my cheek and I woke up

forsake your dreams
they are already dead
we got fists full of mercury
in this land, today
and secret keroscene fueled souls
because kid, wheather you know it or not
you are the nomad and the king
dilythilide crystals light the night
blow the fuse box heart
run and inhale like falling stars


hey little miss
heartache and headache
why don't you
whisper some words at me
i'll take any of 'em
but it's so quiet
these days in yer eyes

Saturday, February 04, 2006


Friday, February 03, 2006

the trouble started just after i left the jail house

Distant troubles and congruent smiles on a too long road leaking coolant all too rapid
there's a man with a gun sitting next to me, and a dog thats seen more in the past day than most do in whole lives
somewhere in the background there's a town in smoldering ruins, but its hard to see the damage done with out having truly been there
six more weeks were promised bars were commandeered minds were broken, and an ill kept mess is waiting for it as revenge just a little less than 12 months away

Wednesday, February 01, 2006

The smell of desire

The embrace returns
with tears on my chest....