court date

who is this

judge i check my char

act

er against like

i would to

trap a state of unfolding

discovery

and then some

how set the extended moment

free whatever

was discovered shall be

all that will be

war jam

the choked freeway

forces us to watch

rust-caked machines fucking the sap from the earth

to read, deadly,

plates like pow mia

you are not forgotten

relay

the cutoff man

hit me

the cutoff man

to step into that hurricane daunt of history

to learn where it came from

to try to to understand the threads?

writers are

runners handing us charged batons

they drop dead and we run through

all weathers (they change in our hands)

we write rain

we write sun

sing badly of hail dents et

cetera die in the gorge

ous snow

wanting to know where all this came from

requires like retching a beautiful meal and

organizing the chunks in a neat lab

to learn the recipe

like which of the just-landed

to interview and how

to feel californian gold

sparkling up out of my swishing pan

which sparkling sands to sift of all possible

i read poems like a prospector

who hasn't made much of a living otherwise

too universally bad greed was there

looking into the riverwater also

there

zaps history

writers run the runny sky thunders we

will carry the right to words will

take it off their hands

a like ball way back there in spacetime was thrown

and caught and thrown and on so the ball

star planet moon fruit proton

by this tiny and humongous arc of now has come

quite a way indeed

their vectors are the storm of history

see attachment

(sin)ce i,aye

stustustututt(utter'd)/(mur(der)mur)ered

thaati{c(u)ant}lo(athe)veyoui-oui

willdr(no)inktoyou

dr(.hellpme)unk(NOW(n))typing

forc(s)ing(ing)

inthew(a/o)rd

t(here)is as(s)entMESS

age I fol(low)

ded.

chainreaction

shedidnothingexceptmovenearme

forgodssakeitwaspracticallynothing

atallandyetmakessleep

athornychore

ohowmuscimovesme

movesmylegmusclestopush

harderandpullsthevividest

backdropsbehindallthis

everythingiseeissomehowmade

camefromsomethingwas

pulledloosefromagreatertangle

eventheunfeltspeedof

deathssuaveapproach

honey-eyed Spring

there goes honey-eyed Spring;

ancient camera slung 'round her sunwarm neck!

2 hr max

the price of strollers

icewater on gums

parking meters like no

parking sign's kids

but they are their mothers

sandy war boots sixty

dollar reef sandals

ancients wore

sandals pulled from bull backs

the no parking signs' masterminds

dozing on anyone

would agree a lovely sofa while

a teen girl's gun sleeps

in the sandy tent where her bombed leg

splintered like a chair's

by dusk i'd had no other dreams

i dried the dream with my off shirt

wet w electric blanket sweat

tossing then the humiliated wad

and in the dark a.m. strangled sleeplessness

thru slugfilm patches until she was silent

by dusk

i'd had no other dreams

today the norm was senseless

and despite cursed money

provided nothing

i stocked pens, cock twitching

and ate in a taqueria overflowing with mothers

in a blurry tangle i started

counting my little life in hours

before that perhaps i had a child

's naive and beauti

ful sense of hunger

i lived

here today always is again

i say knowing death is somewhere

and cap another little while

the magic wonder that makes me

write even on meaningless days

who or what am i reaching for

my unstopping scribblehand

my plain mind stretching

like reality in dreams

like i could really fall

from a screaming rollercoaster and live

reno grannies

in stale living rooms

reno grannies (fresh

ly-permed hair spritzed stiff)

lay green stacks on soil

ed coffee tables and are handed

baggies of powder

i have felt second and third 

winds but god

the thousands of winds

reno's gamble grannies

must learn to stand in!

thank (greedy) god

they have the heavy slot seats

to anchor them

otherwise i do

not think they would stand

a chance

reno neva

one a.

m. is a time

to have a dr

ug in you

re

no nevada is a sect

ion of filth

y universe wit

h high grannies wit

h car

tons of light on

e hundreds on

the empty slot sea

t next t

o them

reno neva

da crawls with sped

up zombies who

se e

yes unblinking

are here to win 

it big

fat lo

ners lo

o

king for a

good time blo

wing bucks eve

r

y 

step of the way

god this casino

kills round the clock

or rat

her kills the clock itself

no on

e is her

e to see me

see what speed

has un

done in the faces

of the grave

yard shift once

lovely waitresses

or whatever 

their bosses call them

i can bare

ly take the sun

ken mouths

of the casino life

rs

who

se clean cow

boy shirts for sure

reek of sixty plus

odd years of smoke

d cheap cigs

what if

i think bet

ween sips of whisky 

one could see all

the teeth of these

rottin

g gamblers in a pile?

no

tic

ing the loo

king for.

for what re

no nevadans?

when a buxom doll

ed up woman

passes so 

man 

y eyes foll

ow her move

what

transformations the hotel

mirrors must have witnessed

the young womens' feet

hide in uggs

and black spikes

what else can

one do i think bet

ween sips of pep

si max and crown

but write these folk

s down? 

fuck i

already burned the hun

dred dad gave me

dad paid

for this one

forty five crown

acro

ss the casino

i see the speedfreak LCDs

programmed to drive

granny addicts and co

ughing old cowboys

batty with greed

really i am

no bet

ter than them;

we bot

h voluntarily

high and poorer here

five one filipino

women with brushed black

smoke-in

fused hair patrol

glossy lanes

flanked by the tack

i

est of car

pet boundaried

in gold plastic

be

hold the king

dom of god

awful decisions

its twin

kling with

empty comped cock

tail glasses this

nausea

tingly rich racket

could not give

the slimme

st fuck if they nev

er laid a sleepless eye

on again

what wit

h the millions on

like a run

nin bathtub

there the patron's fin

al breath collides

with the plastic show

er 

curtain.

love is famous

love is famous

an actress so agoni

zingly gorgeous

and good that

she act

ually becomes the char

acter

sun

g songs for her

echo gorge

ously and so

me would say too

sweetly across all hum

an universes

trees in an orchard seen from a flying car

we won't outgrow doing stuff like this

and when we're gone we'll play ghost-cards

leaving earth

to our babies

and laughing so hard it annoys other ghosts

ghosts also die usually

as their babies grow older and die

and their babies live and die also

and on like that 

until we, still we, are pieces of emptiness

the great emptiness built of us

and the great silence there will ring

also with our laughter

though our laughter will have changed

as our babies' generations tick off

like trees in an orchard seen from a flying car

and after we cease to be even emptiness

we will still pull slot-machine arms together

somehow i know

though few other organisms may possibly

some sad and eternally beautiful how, i know

possibly beautiful void

it makes some kind of peace

when light and dark 

ignore each other

but it is

(good luck to you)

an unbalanced 

(possibly beautiful) void

awaiting great days

how eternal

ly lovely 

does how feel when 

it is undefined? how

fun is knowing

versus not?

how holy is fun?

define fun.

fun is un

predictable

what we make days

is what they are

we young old and all betwixt can

not rely on our cherished

tidal-type greatdays to wash

in (walls of joy!) from

nowhere. we all

must learn to summon

somehow them ourselves

to clear the cluttered streets

for their crash-grand arrival!

for strangers

cursed clouds i

marvel between you

where the blue is one californian blue

and no shift in its shade

the spread of dandelion antennae

their burst from a green little fist

is clearblue like

any moment born bloodless

people i feel like

times we could meet

we don't. some essential part of

us collides and dissolves

halfway between us

that little reaction times x

is our impenetrable

somehow pretty clouds

with wings or honesty

we might strangers fly like

clear through the titan horseheads

and cotton castles

soaring somehow connected

through opaque and transparent

as much as we'd wish to

seeds both crushed and floating

untitled

concealed just under my shirt 

are bursts of malicious metal curls

blooming jagged from my scapulas

like tangles of bent-open fishhooks 

nonbelievers, ask

ones who've hugged me too closely

an angel explodes

crystal crumbs still sparkling

hiss by the thousands

raining around you there

in the nightwet street

the burst's pressure

and tentacular starlight arms

punch a violent pop between your ears

and you cannot squint out

the lime-rimmed lemon light stains

staggered and trailing there

in dark space before you

if we can make if light

places to put your eyes

uncountable like directions

you can move 

if you can make if light

between you

if gets hella heavy

does she not

songs thrown up

like sticky webs

make one wanna make

click play 

the sweet songs blared across the coop

empty-eyed hens

pumping out endlessly eggs

we love,

hate and are them

curriculums

raze is word resort to
we have reached levels new and now
you are no

t anything at
all i.e.
vaster by leagues
right little here in thoughts
leveling our neurostructures with
who else cares bombs

raze is happen soon for so sure
that it isn't even FUNny
haha this means you, makers
you making for you or else
building up moving forward
from ten miles away it looks like a wavefile

and where ideas got loud
yeah those were moments alright
and the curious children might wonder
why fallen so far to the drycracked earth
they shattered not as hard
and the pieces did not melt the way
the littler thoughts did

raze the tip of all our tongues
but we tell the child
ren all kinds of things i.e.
vaster by leagues
are this or that ghostworld
when what their all parts
need is a moment snare

threes

crush is worth

the burn just

to want you

push past teeth

my pink talker

sing badly how

bad the ache

can be love

call you love

my pen dares

but nothing naturally

page stuck matters

petalled pavement girl

grassy silk underfoot

out where home

ever is yours

petals coil toward

the mute weaver's

trapdoory house redly

want you worth

the hot work

first love

perhaps, First Love, we should have never

named our only child Forever

connubial dream

a groom moves

past girl-phantoms in folding chairs

on freshcut lawn Where

stages start

varying pangs are still 

pangs

as you see i cannot

what a fool i'd be either way

a bride waits

for boy-phantoms in easy chars

on freshcut lawn There

if we do not opt out, we will be auto-enrolled.

the poison glow of the unanswer

ed question

taints its children

the void a child of god

conceived by doing nothing

tiny death sprouts

the (not miraculously) color

of guess what question

sharp weeds where

we planted lush tomatoes

my day off

same bed semi-felt dawns

of late mornings it's

did i sleep in sox 

or kickemoff in a comfort-

seeking writhe

balance down the steps no

i have bad brekky the bread

money tacked all over the housewalls

dreams were really

something some word

those fantasies balanced upon

mornings of late

pushed off the cathairy quilts

i've got the lonely

coldsprawling place to myself until

man on bus

whezzeeat?

oh he downup sevump street.

he-what?

right there on brotway.

izzitnow?izzitnow?

yesadeed. downup churchachicken

yes he deed. 

he-what?

mmmhmm. he up badda staw bux.

who you talkin to baby?

mmmhmm.

he up on brotway.

downup sevump street.

churchachicken what-wuzzitnow?

nineteen seb'mdaseb'm.

downup brotway.

jack london square.

wuzzita cheeseburga

downup'm burga king.

mmmhmm.

he set what now?

lord please.

will you turn it DOWN?

been listening to you since berkeley.

shut the FUCK up!

sir, i think she wants to call out the stops.

ain't stopped since berkeley.

gem hunter

is there anythought stingly as heavy

as i don't know

do not stingly most hours we so want to?

for all you ache for, youngly 

she is a kind of everywhere

damned, he found

(lucky fool)

a gem on his first journey

which, happy monks and joyous dead, 

desires do we young eschew

tethered like wild hawks somehow

to bodily greed?

and is there, worthy gods and trustable livers, 

such an animal

as spiritual greed?

the fishergirl

thru berries and curled leaves on foamy waves

a pinewood boat pushes

imbuing the saltsea with evergreen

lying numb blue in the cold seabed i

reached up into a whish of warm

knew i then she was a-sail above

the undulations of the cold sea a fraction

as beautiful as a silk strap 

snapped into her skin i icily dared

poor beautiful swimming fish 

closing saltburn eyes i know

the animals are losing

and wants are winning

and cants are sickly sweetly spinning

the oh so gorgeous captain cannot

(honeysuckled braids)

her lures' shadows discern

yet they sharply stripe the sea

a-writhe like heat 

from her darling boat (young pinewood!)

one invisible line especially finds me

half-buried in cold sea-gravel

it flashing in quivers of dull sealight

the gold hook, stinging like unwanted fate

grabs the corner of my mouth

inspiring a bloodcloud to coldly bloom

lite venoms

painful pushes must happen

lest our lagging

births things like infections

yes kinds that verily kill you

not lite venoms, love

the tart types

whose metal tang your cells

indeed at some depth recognize

as drawn out last rites last right

to where you stop being

so see oh echo

so see oh echo everything
you carers ask wrong questions wrong
we not yet parents need
open as summerdoors
to our childrens' flurries

and where dads were twenty
dads are thirty
you carers ask because you know
wrong is yours
wrong is mine
wrong's distant muffled chime

useless weapon

if you is the biggest. bigger
vastly than if she

spike your valorous
patience with barbaric
takingness

for fail is a flutter of feathers
from a brightly gorgeous
but long soared by bird

else nothing worth words
worth even scratching
down on a few-block bus-ride
better cap your useless weapon
and just look
at the sunny wind
stretching frail clouds to gauzily dry
faintly moving

i hear an animal

i hear an animal stamping
the other side of this
i first fuck there
is so much tongue blur
frail scripts when all
this fucking i hurts about
is a new

as things like wild moths

write right alright
a fish in sea of
feeling waiting weighting
you u you u you u
possessor of
professor of
unfelt i
can feel hard-ly the unfelt like
like's bridges to where love
has bursting buds like
our hands holding or god
forbid one little kiss plus
that moment just after where
that freshborn we
must eye-lock a second
and probably smile
say something
et dream cetera god
forbid those lovethings giving
our dreams things like
fingertips or god
forbid winelips or caterpillar feet
the very closest thing
to a real cocoon we get
to really have is i bet
like night when our quilts
-our unsmelled quilts (which we
have no idea how lovely they smell)-
are wrapped tightly 'round our separate bodies
and as things like wild moths we
alight on each others dream-hands