Friday, December 10, 2004
leaps
soft arms and strong shoulders
wrapping me up from behind
fingertips rough from strings
skin smelling faintly of chlorine
all of the safety the world has to offer me
shaken from the ice in a gin & tonic
beaten out of rainy nights on sidewalks
jingled from keyrings or zipped up my calves
of all these things none so complete
a modern mosaic of tiles taken from these
of all these things none so complete
a modern mosaic of tiles taken from these
she says her heart leaps
as i curl in sleep pillows at my feet
she says her heart leaps
as i curl in sleep pillows at my feet
tall face and low knees
a miracle anyone can reach
a kiss for a climber, bliss for a diver
hands wide, receiving
slow rise, crescendo uphill bending
so much inside us can't be emptied so suddenly
a pilgrimage an odyssey
can't hide habits can't hide eyes
it's a slow chase not catching hell
you come down fast when you lose sight
of the treeline, the beehive
soft arms and strong shoulders
wrapping me up from behind
fingertips rough from strings
skin smelling faintly of chlorine
all of the safety the world has to offer me
shaken from the ice in a gin & tonic
beaten out of rainy nights on sidewalks
jingled from keyrings or zipped up my calves
of all these things none so complete
a modern mosaic of tiles taken from these
of all these things none so complete
a modern mosaic of tiles taken from these
she says her heart leaps
as i curl in sleep pillows at my feet
she says her heart leaps
as i curl in sleep pillows at my feet
tall face and low knees
a miracle anyone can reach
a kiss for a climber, bliss for a diver
hands wide, receiving
slow rise, crescendo uphill bending
so much inside us can't be emptied so suddenly
a pilgrimage an odyssey
can't hide habits can't hide eyes
it's a slow chase not catching hell
you come down fast when you lose sight
of the treeline, the beehive
Monday, November 22, 2004
space space space
cross-hatch opens hydraulic
step out into un-stepping
keystroke into negative space
little hyphen against the sun
airtight face blinks in the light
and you must construct a barrier
between those who are unknown and what is yours
first they will be allowed to be together
and then they will infect you
the age of consent dragged down
and with it your children; before you can point
into the sky your city will be gone
build a barricade against god
he's the one who wants to tear us down
a percussive rattle like the snake's less feared end
trades off with the tamborine jingle: the foot
that steps on the snake, oh hallelujah, take us out
cross-hatch opens hydraulic
step out into un-stepping
keystroke into negative space
little hyphen against the sun
airtight face blinks in the light
and you must construct a barrier
between those who are unknown and what is yours
first they will be allowed to be together
and then they will infect you
the age of consent dragged down
and with it your children; before you can point
into the sky your city will be gone
build a barricade against god
he's the one who wants to tear us down
a percussive rattle like the snake's less feared end
trades off with the tamborine jingle: the foot
that steps on the snake, oh hallelujah, take us out
Wednesday, November 10, 2004
whatever i find
how to start today again
take off all our clothes
walk down the street like in a dream
with sweat between the sheets
i know i can make it be tomorrow
under bath water
but it won't stay warm
with my breath i'll make it now
make it always until some petty piece
of today cracks through my hum
the promise of tomorrow
still hot in my skull
how to start today again
take off all our clothes
walk down the street like in a dream
with sweat between the sheets
i know i can make it be tomorrow
under bath water
but it won't stay warm
with my breath i'll make it now
make it always until some petty piece
of today cracks through my hum
the promise of tomorrow
still hot in my skull
::over the horizon i come, airborne, windblown, and wearing aluminum tape: captain butt-pirate from outer space!
::i cut an opening in your window and you step out into my arms whence we fly to spain.
::we are greeted by spaniards, marionettes, and boxes of clean, custom-made underwear
::happily ever after
::i cut an opening in your window and you step out into my arms whence we fly to spain.
::we are greeted by spaniards, marionettes, and boxes of clean, custom-made underwear
::happily ever after
Tuesday, November 09, 2004
spam poetry
cryptographer nauseum ambrosia devotee deprecatory evolve aden attributive laurent trifluoride oyster wore rna sneaky colorado novo bedspread airline alarm trioxide cursory bathroom bay copperhead husband kitchenette myosin sprint paean alkene
cryptographer nauseum ambrosia devotee deprecatory evolve aden attributive laurent trifluoride oyster wore rna sneaky colorado novo bedspread airline alarm trioxide cursory bathroom bay copperhead husband kitchenette myosin sprint paean alkene
Friday, October 15, 2004
lyrics...
did you hear the one about the guy who was hung like this
we all went up to the cathedral to catch a glimpse
ever since that god-damn painting
he's looked real enough to eat
star of an action movie we would pay to see
just in case the loincloth slipped
the greatest story ever told was when his mother said
son you were a miracle
well she had to tell him something
did you hear the one about the guy who was hung like this
we all went up to the cathedral to catch a glimpse
ever since that god-damn painting
he's looked real enough to eat
star of an action movie we would pay to see
just in case the loincloth slipped
the greatest story ever told was when his mother said
son you were a miracle
well she had to tell him something
Friday, September 03, 2004
lyrics...
When I want to protest
I see a t shirt on some slob
That says mess with the best die like the rest
He tells me to get a job
When I want to march against
Unjust wars or unemployment
I’m blocked by fundamentalists
Who seem to find enjoyment
In standing at the intersections
With oversized colored signs
depicting products of abortions
pleading, what about the baby’s rights
yet these are the curious
who look at vegetarians
like we’re the side show in a circus
of pacifists and antiquarians
-----------------------------------
so this morning there were people
on each corner of the intersection
with placards as big as me
of 3-month aborted fetuses.
what i found even more disgusting,
was the guy ordering his breakfast
wearing an american flag on his head
and a grubby t-shirt that read,
US ARMY:
US ARMY:
Mess with the best,
Die like the rest.
these are people
who look at vegetarians
like they are the side show in a circus,
and yell at war protesters
to "get a job!"
When I want to protest
I see a t shirt on some slob
That says mess with the best die like the rest
He tells me to get a job
When I want to march against
Unjust wars or unemployment
I’m blocked by fundamentalists
Who seem to find enjoyment
In standing at the intersections
With oversized colored signs
depicting products of abortions
pleading, what about the baby’s rights
yet these are the curious
who look at vegetarians
like we’re the side show in a circus
of pacifists and antiquarians
-----------------------------------
so this morning there were people
on each corner of the intersection
with placards as big as me
of 3-month aborted fetuses.
what i found even more disgusting,
was the guy ordering his breakfast
wearing an american flag on his head
and a grubby t-shirt that read,
US ARMY:
US ARMY:
Mess with the best,
Die like the rest.
these are people
who look at vegetarians
like they are the side show in a circus,
and yell at war protesters
to "get a job!"
Friday, May 07, 2004
a cough recorded in introduction to a song
inflight, spill my newspaper clippings
earphones screeching banshees actually inside my ears, whoa this modern age
for another $10 please divert your attention from the window view
midwest patchwork zoom out to midwest mosaic, scored crosswise, scribbled with rivers and shredded with giant claws, stomped by giant boots, pull away from flayed brown earth
to drink service
pancake or omlette
pancake or omlette
pancake or omlette both served over a bed of red meat, ham and eggs and cheese and
i'll have the pancake, by the biggest flight attendants known to man, healthy anchorage women, white but round-faced
stroll the sky-mall, step into that store, what's it called, where everything's superfluous, i mean superlative: the world's largest crossword puzzle, the first practical video phone, the bluest stereo ever
a spotted earth in echo: cloud and shadow, negative of the other, both against brown square backdrop
oh-oh is all she can say to that: the seat belt sign being permanently on and all the orange juice coming in little cups with foil lids
is there an orange down there somewhere with its skin on, among the flayed brown skin of the earth
can i make the most beautiful crossword puzzle in the world and if it's big enough will it look pretty on my wall
her voice twists rivers through plotted measures and cymbols crash at intervals
people are made of blood and math
so i guess that's where floating neck massagers come in and the pages on which to sell them
climb high enough and the sun shines even though frost forms on the pane
a native girl across the aisle sleeps across three seats through mych of the seven-hour flight to anchorage
at thirtysome-thousand feet from duluth, mn and over canada and the yukon, asleep
morning lightens, the brown below brightens
who knows, if i had a million years and a billion bodies, what kind of beautiful messes i could make. o alternate reality, ultimate egotism, do you have any poets like beck?
little tic tac of houses and roads among pock-marked olive skin, some with muddy water
over juno, past the relentless peaks of canadian mountains to long, jagged fingers of water, some still frozen
mountainsides so smooth and thick with snow you would write on them, pale green transparent rivers give over to immaculate wide roads of snow
dark stubble of evergreen trees creeps up mounds of cocoa-jagged faces asserting themselves over water stretched wide between the peaks, here and there water flows like veins through mud and the sun reflects as one hot yellow ball off its dark surface
and i have seen the part of the earth that makes the whole sky blue
let no one touch so deeply that these waters' depth cannot swallow all trace
inflight, spill my newspaper clippings
earphones screeching banshees actually inside my ears, whoa this modern age
for another $10 please divert your attention from the window view
midwest patchwork zoom out to midwest mosaic, scored crosswise, scribbled with rivers and shredded with giant claws, stomped by giant boots, pull away from flayed brown earth
to drink service
pancake or omlette
pancake or omlette
pancake or omlette both served over a bed of red meat, ham and eggs and cheese and
i'll have the pancake, by the biggest flight attendants known to man, healthy anchorage women, white but round-faced
stroll the sky-mall, step into that store, what's it called, where everything's superfluous, i mean superlative: the world's largest crossword puzzle, the first practical video phone, the bluest stereo ever
a spotted earth in echo: cloud and shadow, negative of the other, both against brown square backdrop
oh-oh is all she can say to that: the seat belt sign being permanently on and all the orange juice coming in little cups with foil lids
is there an orange down there somewhere with its skin on, among the flayed brown skin of the earth
can i make the most beautiful crossword puzzle in the world and if it's big enough will it look pretty on my wall
her voice twists rivers through plotted measures and cymbols crash at intervals
people are made of blood and math
so i guess that's where floating neck massagers come in and the pages on which to sell them
climb high enough and the sun shines even though frost forms on the pane
a native girl across the aisle sleeps across three seats through mych of the seven-hour flight to anchorage
at thirtysome-thousand feet from duluth, mn and over canada and the yukon, asleep
morning lightens, the brown below brightens
who knows, if i had a million years and a billion bodies, what kind of beautiful messes i could make. o alternate reality, ultimate egotism, do you have any poets like beck?
little tic tac of houses and roads among pock-marked olive skin, some with muddy water
over juno, past the relentless peaks of canadian mountains to long, jagged fingers of water, some still frozen
mountainsides so smooth and thick with snow you would write on them, pale green transparent rivers give over to immaculate wide roads of snow
dark stubble of evergreen trees creeps up mounds of cocoa-jagged faces asserting themselves over water stretched wide between the peaks, here and there water flows like veins through mud and the sun reflects as one hot yellow ball off its dark surface
and i have seen the part of the earth that makes the whole sky blue
let no one touch so deeply that these waters' depth cannot swallow all trace
