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