Monday, July 10, 2006

Orchestra (one word for every hour)


missing peices

of phoenix teeth

blend

a blue june

to our strange orbit.

the circles we make

tend fields

and snake

along our feets.

Sunday, June 18, 2006

Peddler


you and an elephant peddler just woke me up.
before that, owls turned to flowers in your eyes,
words turned to roses in your throat,
and hears turned to prose inside your ears.

he peddled jumbos and long-trunks of every shade.
before that, growls turned to showers in my sighs,
birds turned to prose in what i wrote,
and tears turned to troves inside my seers.

Friday, June 16, 2006

City-stroller


there are pipers and their powderguns are shooting me with suns
hung around their roary throats are lipsticky-sticky lungs
their melty-melty flesh-heads brush their teeths and tongues
and flower-lips and basement-kiss and hour-trippy brains

there are snipers and their prouderguns are shooting me with sins
in around their hoary throats are lapstackety-stackety fins
their pelty-pelty flesh-beads brush their kids and kin
and power-trips and trigger-rips and hit-and-missile aims

there are dreamers and their louderguns are shooting me with grace
placed around their glory throats are bloody-bloody faiths
their hallej-hallej flesh-feeds brush their relatives and race
and flower-kiss and power-less and rejoicefuls all the sames.


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Wednesday, June 14, 2006

Six lines


she called me olive eyes and loved my spine
she said revolution was growing from my head.
i said no baby,
revolution is growing from your head
you are olive eyes and i love your spine.
and the river swallowed us whole.

Sunday, January 22, 2006

Tulips


cupid drooled from two lips onto tulips in the park,
lucid dreams of drooling onto tulips in the dark,
spooling streams of nonsense is a widow still in love,
fueling the means of content out a window sill above.
she might as well sew his livid lips together,
but if a kiss is not a kiss then a flower is not a feather.

Sunday, January 15, 2006

Out of Blossom


the peril of roses, pistils all bloodless,
humbled bees, stingers all loveless,
winters discipline, no Satan in the snow,
conception has made its move indoors.

Friday, January 13, 2006

Alibi Eyes


Time is watching ice, those alibi eyes. Lime is watching weather, splintered little haven. The willow tree is watching the blackest Baptist raven. Haplessly devout, manners like a lion. Those alibi eyes try not to save him. The raven was in the tree, the kitchen, and despair, one wing touching ether and one wing under repair.

Life is looking at the sun, burning her eyes. Air is watching her eyes, waiting. Autumn's primaries are parading, a river from her look. The sun is staring at the brook and the worshipers wading. Wordlessly alive, hunting down Orion, one eye on the sky and one eye on his beauty.

Friday, December 23, 2005

My top 20 albums of 2005


1. Animal Collective - Feels
2. Gang Gang Dance - Gods Money
3. Deerhoof - The Runners Four
4. Edan - Beauty and the Beat
5. Sunn 0))) - Black One
6. Earth - Hex; or Printing in the Infernal Method
7. Sufjan Stevens - Illinois
8. The Hold Steady - Separation Sunday
9. Black Dice - Broken Ear Record
10. Jackie-o Mf. - Flags of the Sacred Harp
11. No-Neck Blues Band - Qvaris
12. M.I.A. - Arular
13. Gorillaz - Demon Days
14. Excepter - Throne
15. Blood on the Wall - Awesomer
16. Broken Social Scene - s/t
17. Ex-Models - Chrome Panthers
18. White Stripes - Get Behind me Satan
19. Vitalic - OK Cowboy
20. Isolee - We Are Monster

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

septemberlips


digit-fisted fire, enlisting in itself the wiry growl of some stapled shut minotaur baby crying its little throat to sleep. burn, there goes the ether. flame-throws famous monuments into kings that dine on cable television. smoking seven, severing radios and kindling like coffee or lies in dust.

"is there a tree going on?"

emberlips, embereyes, embernose, emberears, septemberlips, septembereyes, septembernose, septemberears all lost in an islander's salt-rimmed baseball cap that laughs at the birdshit that it keeps from its owner. all crooked features, so he escapes the movie theatre. with the pavements' offerings of squid he writes,

"dear dead paper trails, vacation mail floods, thank you for the gifts of fine graphic failures and film scores. my best friend tripped on the curb, lost his limb and brewed some beer. and what do you mean by 'wife'?"

that wasnt a battleship across the street, just a mailbox hiding from the fire. its flag went down the day his dog's brewery went bunny rabbit hopscotch rabid like his styrofoam teeth and erratic-lusting, shelving-horses, attic-dusting, etc.

Thursday, October 20, 2005

the forest breathes sedated.


forest-head and his day. teeth melting onto the soil. boils breaking spoiling snakethings, in the wake shouts trumpet songs. coils raping foliage babies and fucking all the flowers. power rests inanimate. nymph-lips split the silence violent bleeding bloody mud. photosenthesis kids spit minty hiccups.

eyelids hide the ocean and the eyelids hide her islands. sedation hides the sadist and sedation hides her sighs. eyelids hide the dirt that smirks, the trashed and burnt out matches. her absence lines the carseat, her matches line the sky. sedation.

Wednesday, October 12, 2005

all of this sunlight is making lovers just plain batty


the saturday sun is lamented by lovers
an owl and he consider this to be
a protest of radishlips and cinema seats
cinnamon seeps into the sinners retreat
speaking so softly to the cinema screen
simple black streets and the simply discreet
cylinder scene and the salinger... script

script... ripped right out from the pageant of our lives
stripped like salt from the ice in her eyes
tripped out on fault as the rips in her pride
hope that salingers script laments the lift of the sun
her child's left hip dents the sifting in the lung
the lining of the lung rents the rendering of guns
that are firing from the tongue a fiery sounding of songs sung

Monday, October 10, 2005

a thrust from brine to ether


crayola-sketched ostrich eggs, smoke-lunged and fish-scale swollen. birth melts the flakes and her flesh-head sweeps the floor. the exultations hit, every ambulance driver in town gets lost. spirit swarms up from the sea, pleas escape from gulls.

she laughs at jesus toddlers. drink splatters on baby's yellow chest, aside from every "yes, ma'am." speech stains the ceiling, fingernails fret in dust. stench from mother's womb, smoke from father's presence. a triangle face hides under brimstone beads.

foreign tongues enter her territory, terrestrial and wild. bleached eyes reek of sinister. breath does beseech her, a thrust from brine to ether.

little lines on fields are fading, maps implore her searching neck. burning kin aside from crying, daughter's milk sates every cramping crook. tramps and troubadours are waiting, hungry hapless guitars grating. ugly knocks, piano soothes her silhouette. worms iron mormon rain into mama's easter mulch.