Space Debris

one great let-go
the lips of vandals
protrusions through two way mirrors

carefully measured

and it's feces
waist deep

arterial spatter is the money shot
drip from the lips of dogs

the moon means nothing
the city lights mean nothing

burn my body quietly
and completely

A Nothing

VIII

dear my lovely expired

and all true nothings
congealed to nothings
a moonful dead like julius
and it was july

and i am dead like death
in little nothings
all true nothings
all death nothings

secrets a mouthful
dead like nothings

In The Ether

pieces
of warzone
and nails
and erotica
leering out

myself in a mirror fragment on the floor
tchaikovsky intrigued by gacy

i can turn my bike into a pipe bomb

i can emulate the waxing of the moon
and we can all fall
like ashes like plague

goddesses and assassination attempts

holding somethings hair back
as it vomits

and shakes

and dies from the arsenic

VII

there were letters to sentence to
paragraph

to my amazement
that you would give me
the time of day

i could almost feel you smiling
through your machine

your red curtain
an emerald city inversion

and i am dead already

but you disarm me
as you lead my body to the killing wall

Pissing Down The Garbage Chute

i urinated into
a garbage chute today
while doing my delivery driver job

no time to make any unscheduled stops

me in the garbage room
that was more like a closet
grabbing myself

debating

the hinges did not squeak
the brass was shiny and clean

certainly a very nice chute

but the opening
was perfect level to my waist

and me

ready to race
like a piss horse
and my bladder defying the odds

i urinated into the garbage chute
said "thank you" into the opening
slammed it shut
and then proceeded to room 209
where i made my delivery
complimenting the resident on her lavish apartment choice

the lady thanked me and agreed
that she did in fact enjoy the layout of her complex

but more so

how convenient having a garbage chute down the hallway is

...i concur

VI

you were beautiful when you smiled
and introduced yourself

you were beautiful when we held hands
strolling the pier in the night

and you were beautiful
even as you got in your car and drove away for the last time

but your beauty is just an instrument

to measure the hell i am in
these days

V

white spider
was a song
in sodium droplets

i was 27% burnt
pray i never live to be one hundred

i am fatigued
in ash of the sun

and we are
just a poem
in need of revisions

IV

her voice
painted a pair of doves
on the ceiling of his cranium

pretty
and special

eyes roll back to have a look

and they find
a pair of doves
on the ceiling of his cranium...

they're the last he'll ever see

proverbial debris
in the wishing well

strange rainbows
for salvage crews

he poured the gasoline all around himself
but misplaced the matchbook

failing comes naturally
and as an art form

he'll stop caring
love will devour itself
stars will rain down

and he will never have to make sense again

III

little embraces
for the flower god
set high atop our dead universe

dead flowers
in the garbage
used once and then discarded

it feels like im waiting
for the phone to ring
but it's pressed against my ear

the closer i get to her voice
the farther away i feel

we will become dead things
and i will return

to darkness

to decay

just as any fallen lemon

would

everything to par

it's getting worse

the gagging thing that happens
when i inhale a cigarette

sometimes i worry.

i saw a rainbow
the other day

blended perfectly
between earth and sky

i wonder sometimes

i feel sometimes

that maybe
i'm not going to make it

in a funny sort of way
it would almost make sense

exocerebral: 06/22/11 cindy dream

shes wearing a white dress with black stockings
we're walking the field
at my elementary school
it feels like a date

in the middle of the field
we come upon a awkwardly large golf cart with large tires
she takes the wheel and i ride shotgun
she starts it up and we're moving
we're searching for an atm machine
we want to buy sandwiches

the school is suddenly a pub
we end up seated inside with her friends
friends i have never met
five hispanic guys
button up shirts and short neat hair cuts
we are all laughing and drinking
she walks over to one of them
and sits on his lap
me and her friend look at each other for a few moments
he recognizes my jealousy

jump to an unkept parking lot with weeds and cracked uneven asphalt
it's just me and cindy and the sun is extremely bright
like our eyes are not adjusted
we're saying our goodbyes
i notice her car
a 1948 buick
street rod low rider
white paint and in pristine condition
she begins talking about the restorative process it underwent
implying all the while she did it herself

i wake up.

I

desperate
things dream
in snow
capped lungs

ghosts just
slipping right through
the cracks
as they do

and everything collapsed
around us

the cold night air
being the only thing that sustained

everything just seemed to fall asleep
that night

so now
i dream of us
nestled in your sheets

like we would never rise
from anything
ever again

exocerebral: 11/17/11

giger's demon
in my dream last night
and how it's long fingers
made my skin crawl
like seeing a spider on the window screen
and feeling it all over your body

counter

a humming bird
much larger than it should be
the size of a pigeon
and it's tail is that of an archaeopteryx
but with peacock designs
it hovered in place
eclipsing the sun
looking right at me

humming birds represent love











noted.

SoulVent

learn nothing

but turkey hand prints
on windows

heart browned evenly
and in vinaigrette method

outhouse becomes a skyscraper
meat graduates to heaven
and i'm a creeper in the barley

sonata slow stop to
nothingness without dreams
just a croon of throats

learned a lemon process
to be unused

every vein used
as transportation
phlegm fingers the iris yellow

no feeling

all forevers

unfinished arias
the great stand-still
marduk to burn this wretched place

meat hook in torso
destroy everything special
dilated allegro
ash the moon incognito

death in millimeters and open jaws
and misanthropy

and just die

just slump in your automobile
and die

allowing moonlight
through the bullet hole in the ceiling

The Last Words Of Mark Twain

sax < strings

plays as gauze
to
lesion

what intake
ever so slightly

thumbs to formulate

a makeshift
by a spare part(s)

gods unintentional intention galore

splitting his atoms

because

we are a window pane
broken and quiet
breeze from a door

left slightly ajar

intruder
calculates singularity

to infinity
to the last words of mark twain

Angelica

aria licks her jowls
as i plead for continuity

and i never use vowels

be it tongue singe or lock jaw
or whatever

inaudible like me
nonetheless

a mona lisa poise
in black & white

and so youthful

starward angelica
thoughts i did have

she was
semen on a yearbook photo

The Colour Red

the color red,
the voice said,
may come in frills or lace

but needs only a tongue
and a recipient to taste

Kevorkian

human touches the sky

it's eyes no longer function
in this burned temple
a barren walled, condemned thing

not suitable for living

and body will separate from mind
mind separates from heart

volcanic ash from its mouth
and then dormancy

it's heart is a little cessna
tumbling down from the heavens

be there only a small amount of cyanide
it will always be
that it is cyanide enough

Twenty-Two

my addict needs
only the night air
a good sweater

and a bit of chopin

to repair damage
the liquor itself
does not inflict

Memory Poem

maybe i can't remember
because my memory is bad
freeway exits
birthdays
people whom i've met

where am i
but out of mind
and so unattached to detail
no reason to remember anything
it will all change in the morning

nothing worth attaching to
nothing worth remembering...

i try to understand myself.

Love Of A Dove

a smile 

for the half eaten dove laying 

glass-eyed and still

smile how 

remainders smile

under all 

the borrowed sky

i will never learn

i don't know how to morn
i don't know how to live

i believe in nothing

Abserve

there is no heaven
there is no hell

our ears pressed against living breathing songs in the wall
arched fifty-two explode
and all deuces or suicide kings

a woman bends
into a rainbow

cindy was there
in my dream
real enough to remember

there was neither heaven
nor hell

but styrofoam particles
like snowfall in the alley way

i do not need a doctor
i like suffering

bludgeon me
until i am beautiful again

Doubting Thomas

goodbye everything

autumn doused

two bodies pounding into one another

develops the mindkiller

pushing rye into a belly of red coils

larvae is a blinking cursor

and then a pulse and then a doubting thomas

paradise is lined with magnesium nitrate

filled with the kind of sound

you have to spit in your hand to make

the lady reads karl marx

as our gondola drifts calmly under

doolittle will descend

and dead boys will nourish the maggots

gravity is

unidentifiable
when against the sun

Greenleaf

gold greenleaf cold

small violet holds me forever

slow dancing in a burning room

your pretty larynx said

old greenleaf fold

suture smile style of bones

crave the poems your iris tells

they were so beautiful

they were so brown

i was vermin

cuddling scraps

tossed down by your feet

memorizing your lip motions

when my name

would pass between

2:30 am

a piece of the moon shone behind her

from a metal post

the letter L inverted vertically

her thick black hair

long as the nile

black as the sky

contrast her perfect body

luminescent like diamonds on black velvet

she's quite insane

i can feel every inch of caution tape

wrapped around her

dozing off

with her head rested on my stomach

i run my fingers from alexandria

to luxor

as i try to hide

an erection

for the record books

Red Ribbon

red ribbon fall
from the mirror by the shore
where we were balcony

to orchestra

photo booth memory
next to my drivers license

explode the moon
and you'll see me

in an acrylic shade of blue

a crescent smile
lays dead in the sand
torturing my insides
cutting through flesh

removing the pancreas
then the liver

and then the brain

stroke the rear of my neck
with fingers and colourful little designs at the tips

lull me in your arms

my silver darling
my destroyer

my flare of the sun

yellow tape
to seal off the street you live on

i have these nude pictures of you
that i need to see from time to time

and it feels so wrong
just like my life

you're so far away now

i remember pigtails bound in red ribbon
saying more than words ever could

the last sunset
the last beautiful thing in this shit-hole of a world

Holidae

if only i could destroy you
all your
chernobyl caresses
against my inscissors
my live wires

like piano keys
playing a little malady
a song
passing through
my throat

remembering

instruments strung so tight
to pop and lash

eyes into lento
percussion skins atrophied

i remember

red and blue
color
dancing through

the windows
onto walls
like christmas lights

beckoning

some permanent holiday i'm sure

Bach's Cello Suites

i am a cinder

an orange illumination
through your closed eyes

if i had fingers
i could have felt
your goodness tear away

i was fatigued
i was useless

if i had eyes
i could have seen
your goodness tear away

i was pieces of dreams
rising up from a throat
spilling from it's mouth

the familiar choke
the nasal cavity sting

i am the poison i consume
i am the hate that keeps me distant

but in the evening
when i sit alone in my car


i am bach
and his cello suites

Without You

our mirror temperament
our thoughts in helix form

our lungs adjust to altitude
exhale pieces of the sky

you were
empires burning and falling
stars going supernova

white light and elysia

liquor will make you vanish tonight

but i'll feel your imprint in the morning

i am uneasy
i miss you

and i feel forever without you

Why Bother

staged anonymity
for the pulse rate

touching the sugar-coated eyes

vermine will meet in a hole

to psyche out rationality
on their way to heaven

glitter will
sparkle on the dance floor

and insects will
carry away it's eyes

sugar-coated...

winter will arrive
as anticipated

and everything lovely
will die

Saliva

subterranean movement
shakes like alzheimers

tastes like soil
and soil alone

it wasn't even alive enough to die

riding the moon like veins
confessions over drinks

how stars disappear
shedding light
like a winter coat
a shawl that serpentines
to the ground

using a finger
to stir the universe
like a bowl of cereal

the barrel of a .45
wet with saliva

a yellow lilly on our dinner table

and she'll smile
and we'll talk
and she'll hold my hand when we walk

but touching on beauty
does not make me beautiful

Dead Centre

when she touches me

it feels like hands sifting through garbage
looking for something misplaced
maybe a phone number
maybe a photograph

thrown away
in the heat of an upset

i could kiss her fingers
as they go fluttering by
making roses bloom
and chickadees sing
undoubtedly
on days unlike today

flies encircle me
like planets orbiting
collapsed stars

i am my dead center
shriveled and blackened at the heart

Co-lapse

rosen fear waiting
cellular phone levitating the sun

light that surrounds
metal tables
grooves for drainage

the leaks in our skin

catalyst

plucked an E string
for a meaning
i cannot remember

forever

an exit wound flowering
the back of
mother theresa's head

spiral the vertebrae
and then sleep
until dead

Libations

rife with cleansing fingers
graze the trigger
learn about chloroform homogeneously

aroused in gearing
transcend to the dance floor
to kill that pauper
kill that violet inside

we spill exuberantly

plausible,
the air we breath
but not possible

just an entertained thought

we're mocking birds diving into beasts
infra dead you-boat rationality
caressing the floor

we'll come up for air

long after the venom has primed the

aorta

REMedy

wondering how quietly
i could vomit into the kitchen sink
it's three in the morning
fixed on mucha's spring 1900

as if some measure of stability
exists there

eyes tell lies to the brain
caresses to die
only the heart
could ever really know why

she faces a wall now
smiling from the night stand
for the soft plateau texture
the flat opaque coating

the ants trailing
to something expired on the floor

bellini's ah dolor! ah terror!
leaking from the little buds
nestled in my pocket

the ceiling growing
as tall and as empty as the sky

amused by the complete and utter absence

of life

Apple Tree

mind benders
apply the corona
with a butane flame
16oz. bottles
rolled up dollar bills
hypodermic deliverance

on the surface of the sun
smiles are halos

anxious malediction
fingers your mothers hot hole

control+c and send

a granny smith rolls only two feet

genes replicated control+v

pantomime carries anathema
if you fear god

press 4 to repeat
press 7 to delete
press on to deplete

kill your children in their sleep

sandra

her mouth was enigmatic
and unmoving
her lips would part only to take in air
or to clench her pencil between her teeth

pale skin, sandra
low torso, sandra
black shoulder-length hair, sandra

we were aware of each other

she believed the female body
was much like the ocean
with curious things in curious places
secrets under the sand or in the kelp or in the tide pools
waiting to be uncovered

low torso, sandra

we began writing each other
after school let out for the summer
sending letters through the post
she even sent a picture
a black & white photo
a close up
her head adjusted slightly to the right
gazing at something outside of her 6X4 world

black shoulder-length hair, sandra

she would write about
how she wanted to study celtic mythology
on some study abroad program
how her room was always a mess

i remember how she lost interest in me
repeating past conversations
responding out of courtesy
the letters stopped shortly after

pale skin, sandra

i remember mailing her a cryptogram i had made
with my feelings for her encrypted within

and it felt so wrong

black & white photograph, sandra
pushes the hair past her ear, sandra
shoe box full of daydreams, sandra

the thereafter realized lesbian,

sandra

Esperanza

caesalpinia pulcherrima
feels the wilt that occurs
is the welt that procures
cambric to divinity

unfinished one

stark blue lips
feathers thinning
eyes yellow like phlegm
drifting into eradication


that was me


my pretty poinciana in chino hills
begging to be seen
wanting to be shared

i had thoughts of esperanza there
for her red vest
form fitting and taut
over a white dress shirt
and our last minute glances forever

over my left shoulder

Messiah

handel

and enough winding ribbon to kill a twelve pack

it's the back road
up on the ridge lines
going in and out of the clouds

the rain pattering on my rooftop

no one around for miles

i'll blur the scenery
into streaks along the windows

speeding

drunk

handel singing of god
at forty five hundred feet

and i'm swerving in and out of the world

closer to god
than i'll ever be

Burroughs

your spirit
blackens everything at your fingers

and i am bones of the sun

and you can see how people
shake with electricity

shake with the right hand
shake like leaves

and of the tongue
something old under your breath
something dead
something on the brink of words

i can feel tension, blame,
a need to control... everything

i can feel tension
even in the walls

flowers can only wilt
flies can only lay eggs

complexions can only go pale


we cannot burn a bridge
that was never built


a lynx on baldy
and i am not your son

week-old snow in texas
and i am not your son

year zero
and i am not your son

lights in the sky
and i am not your son


"smash the control images
smash the control machine"