return of the grievous angle not the
previous angel. i sing the endless
possibility of sandstone knick-knacks
grimly pacing mardi-gras in
flip-flops & fly for big joe turner.
loosen that snare. stomp that bass
groove into followed footsteps. shine raw
desire on the glare of
appliances. weather that subterranean
television snow. watch for
bouquets of overthrown. beware helter
swelter in a soggy shelter,
& purely for the sake of rhyme. it's a
tip-off. i read it so it must have
a grain of truth. let's goof on reality if
it has its own face not mine. my
tongue has become dislodged on a few of my
favorite flings. i've named
all my chemicals after former beaus. ten a day habit has an indecipherable
lock on eternity until i get up the courage
to chomp slippery valve binding
& send spiraling crush of absolute
confusion on the multitudes, which
i love on an individual basis but more than
one are too difficult to deal
with. holy slight for our own good. all
prayers answered but some don't
understand the meaning of no. friday
evening is approaching. i watch
& feel for a weary core of crows spearheading the point of
no return.
i don't know how i came to this delusion.
maybe it's better i don't
ask for answers. thrusting skeleton wire
with flexible intent into the
glaze of paraphrase. i'm shedding absence
forever. float the flux
fantastic while chirping in the general
vicinity of tumultuous sighs.
risking high road ridicule is a realization
riding a lark. i no longer take
myself so seriously, sometimes i leave
myself behind. bundle brains
in dead relative's quilt. it may take
comfort from such information. i'll
take it for granted either way. don't pin
myself down either.
branches of twinkle kill the sound
completely dark. makes it feel
colder than the thermometer reads, as well
as tight shoes. corners
of my mind have nothing more to add to your
humorous aside. tracing
resemblance to total oblivion. look for the
one you trust least. been
craving unaccustomed while threatening twilight. each promise of
unfathomable is stray bones in a bucket
which add up to nothing
special. adopting blown exploits to sign
for spineless shrinkage. now
the spotlight is on infinity. a spunky
fusion painting now & then
with white stain of correction on a black
vinyl copy worth more than
resulting art work will ever garner. a
huddled mass is raising a candle
to brighten the sun, so i raise a glass to
sand & hydrogen bombed lost
in space case number scratched beyond
redemption. pre- packaged
introductions come with an asterisk & a
rare laugh track at voracious
frequency. thy shades have denied the
strumming of the chord i quote
scripture in gnostic dyslexia. sifting
through cramped venues while
dragging a donkey unmistaken for a question
which was lurking thorns
in every rosebud. expecting mena suvari, it
serves them right to suffer.
my compassion is blinking. must be low on
batteries. building yet
another image, which i will reconstruct in
a week, a month-whatever
my tenderness dictates. one can never have
too many personas in this
bum steer play. a mutual apprehension
twelve-step program is missing
a step at the bottom, which is up to
members, which is confusing to
those on the cusp.
an installation of birds of all feathers
squat, squirm, but aren't
squeamish, though maybe they should be with
humans nearby.
some hillbillies will shoot anything that
moves. an orange vest
& cap with mufflers won't buy them more
than a few seconds.
alert the whimsical darkness. caution misty
mourning. i demand
it must be beyond my imagination. is that
asking too much? i pray
that you may you never find part one. an ugly universal bruise.
the numbers paint it as mere formality.
tripping out on staged whimsy,
but shuddering on ambiguity, let alone
trick photography. myth
of different times they trot out for every
'accident.' seared with scars
of plenty. am i supposed to thank my lucky
scars that i kept a low
profile instead of pasting a smile on every
rugged cross i passed.
punishing the language for leaking the
proof. driving stakes under my
feet. my margin for error isn't a lover's moon, lover's swoon, or lover's
doom. jerking my entrails like putty while
laying funeral flowers
under the cover of swapped earth. feeding
multiplication fables to
the minimalist rumble of obligation.
stumping the prophet with a
belly full of suicide. works half the time.
if you can find me better
odds i'll share my winnings with you. in
the meantime they're spitting
fire down my cotton mouth. yawning shards
of broken bits & blackened
burn. accepting defeat in inhospitable suit
but with a grin, & perfume
that screams raid. lithium owl lids ache
gray love. spherical progression
equals circular logic. logic is another
word for fractions. saluting illusion
with prosthetic arm while gathering whole
numbers with the real thing.
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