those ambulances, howling in the wind
like a pack of coyotes
or the blood thirst scream of a vampire
might as well be vampire squid in the sky
darting through the air, over the sirens
giant eyes dripping pigments that paisley out
flip, splatter and leave smeared spiders
inching along a web of fireworks
nothing can stop us tonight…
too many distractions for us to get noticed.
wires fed through trees
speaker leaves
speakers balance
on branches
it takes a sloth ten years to build one a birds nest
i can fit all my pens
in my left fist
drain all the blood from them
the right hand cups the ink, sand
through my fingers
hammerhead nails in dolphin blowholes
UFO tuna cans crash in the ocean
landsharks swimming through windows
wide grin from your daughter,
the whole world is waiting…
taking in the stories.
bare beauty is what the “what” is.
manna.
it is how she fit in my hands
and my arms stretch twenty feet long
but my brother has his own life to live
and he can’t carry my hands forever
anyway…
right above our sky lies the ocean
shafts of light break through
a current of asteroid
to become dust
and then us.
once man has learned to create life, game over
here comes the black.
soft wave. soft hair falls to the ground
as we stand
calcium stick figures
shadows blasted onto the wall
only one native left
pulling out wads of wheat paste
matting mirrors
to the blank eyes of hand puppets.
human bovine babies
crying for glue
little bovine babies mooo.
go to the hospital, stick in some tubes…
cows in the emergency room!
poke and prod, maced by a cotton swab
milk flowing down park avenue
fences in herald square-
when’s a recession a depression?
whenever the windows get smashed
and fire gets thrown. . .a good guess,
men will be tried in this lifetime.
lets get it down now
lets get it out
I am no cow on this subway.
…the white house won’t see a depression.
the white house has blood, it has milk on it’s hands
we watch the world sink in pink quicksand.
aloha… this is cris and along with colin and sarah , we compose jack parsons moonchild- thank you kompalya thunderbird for airtime… our true debut will be at stockinette cafe for the hominid party, jersey ave b/w 3rd & 4th st, jersey city… wednesday, april 22 @ 7:30, along with feature ryan iozzia- first performance on the east coast since a 3 year california submersion. stay tuned for our demo, full length album and videos, within weeks and by next week- jpmoonchild.com will have featured songs and sound information… lots of love, even to those who physically beat me and cops whose badge is of ignorance. blast off.
open mic and set performers… this week- I will be reading, along with the poetry of Roland Ramos and the musical debut of moon animals with last minute guests…. if you need inspiration with the pen, check me out because I live for writing and have fun with it. the stockinette. 581 jersey ave. jersey city nj…
I drew a gun on the page
lifting it up, I think it’s a 12 gauge
wet ink runs down my arm
arcade in the background
bright lights flashing
ferris wheel spins in the sky, grabbed a napkin
soaked up some black ink under the sleeve of my jacket
then squeezed on eve’s casket.
when words connect correctly,
they become birds or they become weaponry.
heavy artillery, matted down, feathery.
Ted Turners Gettysburg address
left Hank Aaron in a headdress…
Build a stadium around him!
Hank fired the first shot
through Babe Ruth’s forehead
Babe spun in circles
as a shaft of light
shined through his inner eye,
spinning in circles
casting a light upon
all in the audience
Hank rounds the diamond,
some call it a blood stone.
He turns third and runs home.
Blacks and whites join and use grey cells!!
I am a father to my father
my father is now a child as I look upon him with
wonder and bewilderment as he makes his next move.
I am a father to a child who at one time, I called father.
I sent my mother father’s day cards until I realized
every day I am walking, breathing and communicating,
it is her day…
I do not participate in pastimes and national holidays,
in some ways I am just like my father
but I have no children and no wife to look after and provide for.
… So I declare myself free.
I have made peace so now I sit back and watch
as my father scribbles on the wall with a syringe.
I am a father to a child who at one time, I called father.
The sun is shining down on the liquor store…
The sun is shining down on the liquor store…
here it comes, here comes the sun
the ice is defrosting, the awning is dripping
musicians jump out of a van of equipment
the bums started skipping for whiskey…
they whip up some change for a fifth and get tipsy,
get wasted,
go face down to the pavement.
the sun is shining down on the liquor store…
the liquor starts shining and melts the relationships.
Darwin comes out when I’m drunk to debate the creationists.
