one waking moment

this house is cold and I’m frozen to it
two steps away from out the door
and I’ve finely found something worth the world
and the words
the moments within
the hours
and other increments of time
but I have an oblivious habit
of stumbling straight onto the tracks
resting my head on it’s shoulder
and running the train off it’s path

this house is defiantly and icebox
preserving all within
and Id like to peek behind those doors
runaway with the cat
and o’ a bottle of thick red sin
shout at the sun for waking me up
and the heat rain that makes me dance
and the peace and stinging toes of the snow
and the part of a flame that’s blue
making you wonder
how blue can warm anything at all
and the trees that whisper seduction till my legs throw me up,
(weather I want to or not )
to hide at the top
and see all through a mess of green and growth
and the wind that rustles a butterfly loose of a long enough land
and the pride of a mountain as it steps onto your path
and the little rivers delicately carving trough them,
always on their way to ending the pilgrimage
in Great Mother Ocean
and that fucking ocean, just like the whales within
tossing and turning and playing with you
till she swallows you whole
or gently rolls you back onto the land
and the sand that sticks around
all over everything
for days and weeks and months
till Grim eventually pours it over your dead head
and the music that’s strong and will forever live on
and the dreams and children in the stars
and the moon that smiles and wont let me.....
wont let me
wont
let
me


Sleep


so if you can see through
this wonderful haze
of distant disaster for sure
grab yourself and a smoke
hold on tight
cause this ticket never expires
and you bought one at the door
boarded the train heading for chaos
stowed luggage and all
and somewhere down the line there’s a girl
making love to the tracks and the trees
cause the moon is out along with the wind
and she can’t even think about sleep
and there’s a chance she could wreck the train
or just hop on
heading homeward
instead

help wanted

somewhere in Ti
there's got to be
drunken wandering bohdisatvas
mumbling inaudibly
who can help

somewhere in Heaven
there's got to be
sinners with halos
and a million churches and miracles dedicated to 'em
who can help

somewhere there's people praying
and chanting and meditating and
lighting votive candles

somewhere there's a lotto ticket
or a lunatic with million dollar charisma

somewhere there's a signpost
with a sign on top
pointing the way

somewhere on a hill there's a scarecrow

a few more lines about wine, shocking isn't it

the blood of the bull
and he uncorked it
in the afternoon
making the face
one makes after
slow tugs from wine
that hasn't sat

winter again

this season
the concrete and cold of it all
that wind from which direction

collars pulled up
force the soul deeper down

life takes on
the depressing majesty
of a pendulum

cavities in the waning daylight
like eyelids dropping

even the sun seems listless
especially in late afternoon

but there's a phantom of a promise
in the electric character of these stars
something in what the cold does to the light

pishau

gee i like nice smells
like perfume and rigger mortise
and that one time
gee i like nice things

shaddow boxing my clown

you gotta be colder than hypothermia
if you plan to walk around this place
with head held higher than floor board scuff

no new part of all this shuffle and groove is promise or accention
just the bang crash tramplin of the good bad ugly through the windowless delivery of punch line obsolescence

laproscopic innuendo and the forgery uncanny
mistakes are made to vent frustrations
and diet coke is ugly like toe fungus
polish that trophy case empty my boy
we swallowed it up in confusion
don't remind me
i can't recall anyway what it was
but i bet it was

pirate slipdisk

tattooed Philippino women
lifes work from a farmhouse circle k
tasteless and pretending
licking constant the roof of my mouth
like the first words post trechiotomy
apocoliptic promises itchy skin flakey tomes
blech, idiom, toronto
don't touch that
dance dance dance dnace dance dance dance dance dance all night long
glaven with the flubber and the hoil

dang ol no good tell ya hwhat
bottles and monkey dung
fingernails pushed back to get the lash out
and in secret i have none to keep

first snow

the first snow cuts through me
an unexpected change of events
calls for an unexpected change of my mind
i look now for someone who understands me
someone who bathes in my mind

for you

if i'm ment to remember
there is snow on the roof of my cup

Reservoir tip conclusion pocket perfect

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blue factory
shoe street corner sympathy scratch
goo everybody listenings tounge
flu throwing stones from glass houses drive
stew no one hangs curtains all just ride coat tails stale
brew men in thre cornered hats hold pictures of the lonliness dead
new but i'm here swallowing quarters in the vauge hope nothing
who that i'll shit a fortune in due time green
pooh
lou

lie
pie lipstick and rouge
fly the company is thinning and there isn't much to prove bugs
die the butt of the agonizing joke laughs tremendously fuck
eye as it is all the same mindless jabbering silly
my just remeber that time when i ate shit and showed everyone my teeth rags
why purple octopus umbrella rage
shy meat flavored idiot urgent
sty can you spell pterydactol sea
try soft like the rain season piss bye ice water placenta truth

tote
float cock rock junkie mirror
wrote bottle rocket force pose
boat aprehencive linsead labido lower
note i never had but i imagine the taste to like that of silk or honey dew touch
goat perhaps flash dance and split logs under rainforrest skys ask
coat swallow grenades and the chest walls expand dance



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whose got smallpox

head throbs with early morning confusion
after watching magicians reveal their tricks the whole night through
a wet nose came pushing with the sun
he's quite simple, two in the morning one at night
pamplona
the hat dances of silver microphone tongue
waist deep in watermelon seeds
i'm all ash and nullification
when i thumb through the faces
ponder cigarette burns, overcoats, madness

a tale of two cities (in two parts)

part two

rolling hills and fluid transfer
dear sweet prince of lake and blacktop
made whole by shedding parts unneeded
like stagnation and recidivism

traveling on the backs of dogs
and i follow slow behind him
to a place called little personal
i've had so many dreams

the subway trains are carpeted
the air a cool thin overcast
take your weary commoner
to elevations peak

now sand blasted machine
running down hill in reverse
a city wide tourist attraction
that i could have birthed myself

just let me come again
to that place that eased my anguish
the embrace of a dear friend
who wants more from life than memories

ragged and smiling
no one speaks like this
passionate glory bound
letting the hills develop beneath him

longlost brother
i saw him off
my ticket ill timed came
the pavement stretched between us
i'll be back to explain myself
soon

truth

eyes roll beneith sheets
sad dawn makes fools of us all
two three times a week

somewheres in that big black lonely soul
rolling out forevers
right up to this pain of glass
we call it the night

there's a sparkler of a girl swearing catastrophe
a giant thinking about his inhales
hop head kids hittin bowls in the disco flash of lighters
lovers rolling over quivering
beauty and drunkeness

somewheres in the wind and sin and streetlamp wash

an old Volvo's ticking clock

inside that shoe box monstrosity
in-between the Rain
eagerly waits the rest of a life
Tiny compared too
and gray as well
gray that shines blue in the Light

just one more Window
to be thrown through
as she tenderly paws at the pains
there’s Glasses to fill
and quotas to meet
under all this acidic Fame

Butterflies
they know their place
exactly where they’re ment to Stand
when Time tells to flee
or flit away free
the length lingered upon hesitant hands

now where you are heading
is Not who you are
behind paper and quill
and the Urge you can’t kill
cause colorful ties only get you so far
so remove those Shoes
with the Afterglow’s hues
and walk proudly back into
your own Backyard

I love to hate my Love

i would have cut my skin clean off
to get your essence off of me
a mild cleanser
never did the trick
nor the clorox bleach in the closet
a long couple of months passed
i still won't let you see me
the caress i feel of you against me
it doesn't wash off
it never will
i can't fade the moments
Me won't let Me
you on me
bloody, messy romance
it clings to me, Always
pain from you stirs my heart's lust
you tortured my love, now i torture yours
we share the same broken, black heart
the pain we put each other through
i'm in love with only You

Jack Said

there is no hope
but there is bordeaux

RLW, shuffling my feet at his grave

the sun on the rows of marble blocks
the way the W is cut into this one
the birch waving at my back

stumbling over words about myself and this world
for the silent man I'm ending up like

conjuring him in my skull as a leather bound flask behind the seat
as a voice calling back from up front in the car
as a desire to just drive a truck- turning a continent under his rubber
as a bank president in stories
as a smoke stack of Vantage exhale
as a war tale where the Germans suprisingly surrendered the barn
as a black and white photograph of a man
cigarette dangling, beer glass in the left hand
each arm perched on the shoulder of a woman

you see the handprint he left was the stories I forgot
you see success is a funeral
like his where the bum from the bus stop
shows up and listens to the eulogy
and cries with the men in buisness suits

native american cheekbones
come to me in my dreams
whispering secrets
of the feeling of what i've seen

the queen of the mechanical bull

on two feet, eyes might simply
roll on down the bar
but there she was in full horseshoe strobe
in bedroom shattering throws
her hand and her hair rising
the moon courting venus
then wrestling with gravity again
the way this barroom angel's
thighs and pelvis
danced so close
with the back of the hulking mechanism
but then the other hand went up
and she pitched
the first buoy in the storm
with all the waves and momentum