We take pilgrimage into the black hole…
put down that chicken wing, no greasy prints on the glass homes
Of those who bear grins with glass eyes!

Grasp is so tight on the wand of political mite
that the pen becomes dynamite to rewrite
a crash as we rehash and rifle our national pastimes.

One wave of the arm, we shall bloom- fully armed
Like a bee swarm
Men become bearded with many defenses…
all the wrong colors, the warning signs
of social deprivity, therefore inclined
For, well, to first and foremost put war in his mind
unfortunately, this is all he could find.

6 billion fingerprint mazes from enslaved populations
Try peeking, amazed they raise children
for government graves in razed buildings…

Love depraved/perverse thrill seekers spill blood on occasion…

66 angels of death, each represents
66 sides to our crystallized, fragmented fraction of time
when the angel of light appears, praise him. Divine…

Kaleidoscope sky through the eyes of those so large in size they have no need to hide.

On this pilgrimage, it is no journey to find “Her” or “Him”…
This idea of god is so large, we are blinded.
All of us here live inside it…

Intestines. Glass jars of stars. Kidney stones.
Glass homes sealed air tight by man.
No tee-pee opening. Smoke envelopes him with no opener…

Just a can of tuna fish and a crucifix.

Dictated by fear, become racked with disease
No land- just mystical mathematical landscapes adorning a full beard of bees.
Bullet sleeves… bullshit, indeed.

Ahh… my memories of war.
That’s all I have left from the media’s emory board…
Thats all that there are.

Just as steel-linked chains choked the necks of slaves
rope and woven cloth bound shoulder blades
of females randomly selected by the grace of god
to sprout wings… man docked communication long ago.

Chemical tentacles
tent full of Seminole Indians
sprinkling cinnamon
symbols get singed in the skin-
the beginning ends
men in their timberlands
bend in their symbolence
temple of ignorance
tends to be impotent
now insignificant
renders the crystal ship
ripe for the gentlest pistol whip!
and we might give them licorice…
twists of tobacco
then backhoe a dick ripe with syphillis
-this might meet force with resistance, it’s
ripple effects to exploit an old culture
to new ways of thinking but they could just not get the gyst of it!

Sub-species
as if E.T.
found a trail of reeces pieces
and woke up with diabetes.
Inside the beeker is fleet week.
Inside the petri dish is a heat wave
and as each day passes
people beep!
people retreat into castles and caskets.

Keepsakes in memory form
is all that I take with me-
tapping that maple tree.
Gates squeak
as I try to creep
through the threshold of a new golden dawn
golden fawn, baited/trapped
traded for native ass…
everyone’s here, we’ve made it at last
everyone’s here- raise your glass…

Hell hath fury to bury you in a tomb
old natives make it from Peruvian ruins
into New York’s new arctic sharkpit.

New York City… a race to be calm
but a bomb in an inkwell ticking away is like torture,
as dominoes knock Vietnam into Baghdad.
Sink and my tomb is a glad bag, if my dad had a problem, well…
So do I…
Broken machines I have stitched in the sky
Limbs fall off of the gods of desire.

I’m gonna barbeque flesh with my breath
Omnivore chewing the door on your steps
If an animal slept here tonight, he’d regret…
Throw me a beast and I’ll make it a pet.

Crohn’s genes…
Humans are prone to disease, now their memory’s gone.

I caught a habit, I’m rabid, a parapallegic-infertile left side
memory died- melted my ROM.

Sun strikes your necklace, planes become swans…
Reckless, we’re running a race to be calm…
Four different sections but none of them on…
Throw me an inkwell, I’ll make it a bomb.

Tonight the sun bleeds…
the clouds become freshly picked cotton, absorbing the crimson
the clouds become all full of blood and I wish I could wring them all out
At my feet, there are crackwhores who chew on their cud
as these blood balls shuffle down south… I’m out
…I’m out of my mind…
I wish I could sing but I shout but it has perfect timing
it matches the heartbeat I feel through the soles of my feet
now my soul feels complete when I’m rhyming
nevertheless, the suns getting low but still shining

Tonight the sun bleeds…
into the ocean like red eels skimming the surface
the moon is an urchin-
bloated, floating above
highlighting rapists and those who make love
every incomplete yogi and those who take drugs
supernova holocaust, cobra cold club
gripped by a fist in a latex glove

Tonight the sun bleeds…
I smear fireflies into my dungarees
butterfly wings catch sunbeams
from sunbeams to Jim Beam
Jungle green crayons to kim-chi
I’m juggling radon, grounding the linseed
the sun’s in my eyes-
it dyes all the clouds purple
the moon has the power, the pull of the tide
to pull in all of the sea turtles
they lay their eggs, I play dead.

12/9/07

Jesus Christ centerfold
mesmerized by the lottery balls
that infinite spiral
the digital detail
you saw Joseph, I swear it was Moses
put politicians in a Pol Pot
stirred by the words of Milosevich
mischief ensues…
watersoluble molecules, all glued together
I’m just a big collage of molecules
I’m a walking mosaic of atoms
therefore, I need to be challenged
I, meaning we, full of water
Van go…
I mean… get out of here
You supply me with paper
you meaning earth
paper meaning blank
I will puke on it
you may see pencil
lets call it
emotional graphite
with bare knuckles
my skeleton
battling a planet of jawbones
both of us moving through space, faceless
you mention Jesus
I think worship
and John Lennons statue in Cuba gets covered in birdshit
you mention Jesus
I think worship
that word is sick-it’s perverted
man with a dog head
man with the head of a bird, did
you feel that tremor?
Timor did
Timothy did not
he floats on U.S.A. arrogance
my aunt saw Jesus, converted
a herd is a flock is a lot
insurgents
jump from the draw of the motel 6
put words in my mouth
and geometry tumbled out
now I’m up to my knees
in prisms emiting rainbow equations
greater than/equal to
people who eat with a spoon
but lesser than man
who has rice in his hand
when my lands grain goes to
the beat of a showtune
shimmying down conveyor belts
into mouths of animals
put onto earth to make belts
so, essentially, cannibals
crawled out of the Amazon
to start flipping through LL Bean catalogoues
digital scan goes analog
my thumbprints acoustics
strum pages of useless info
like sucking a fart through a pinhole
black holes’ silhouette
is a silver star
it’s something to see
hard cover lies get promoted to truth
in this leper colony
funded by those who appreciate stories,
gave us the whigs and the tories,
the 47 story Solomon building
and inside-out Iraqi children.

12/10/07

Miami… vast parking lot. Concrete ribbons. Shit food. Welcome to Miami.
Miami… Strip-mall city. South Beach diet details lethal injections of toxins, I stand behind city hall and push it over, facade.
Miami… Start investing your money into the city as a whole and let the tourist villages wake at 3 a.m. , dying of thirst from an acidic bloodstream.
Everglades… “Robert Is Here”… Get lost in the woods…Stay out of the city.

12/8/07

I WEAR A HEADDRESS OF SILVERWARE, WOODEN SPOONS & SPATULAS
WICKED IN THE KITCHEN AND GEORGE BUSH IS COUSINS WITH DRACULA
SORRY… BACK TO THE ORIGINAL STORY…
FLIP CAST IRON PANS WITH A STEEL HAND
CRACK MY STOVE IN HALF AND APPLE PIES FLAP OUT
V-FORMATION AND PERCH IN ORCHARD CLOUDS
INSIDE THE BORDERS OF KING HENRY’S QUARTERS
SWORDFIGHTS, INBETWEEN KNIGHTS
I BORROW THE BLADE, I SHAVE CARROTS
I’LL STAGE A WAR… SORRY…
I’LL MAKE A HONEY GLAZE FOR THE PAN-SEARED TUNA
CRACKED PEPPERCORN, MANDATORY.

(No,really,i’magoodcook.contactme,perhapsinmytravelswecouldformadinnerpartywith
aperformanceincluded.myfeesarereasonable.)

Man has established himself into the heirachy of mother nature…
Life ain’t all that but it looks good on paper.
Life’s getting heavy so where is my stapler?
Ignorance flares from a diet producing mass tapeworms.

Man has established his presence as nuisance,
To tend to the earth is a slipknot, tied in a noose, it’s
Useless, nevertheless, musicians need muses
A Jimi Hendrix axe turns sequoias to toothpicks.

Man has established his rash rationality
Into a nation of casualties, casually
Knocking the third world off of it’s balance beam
Now we have presidents quoting Sean Hannity.

Man has accepted the media’s lies to be truth
As the T.V. drops forbidden fruit.
Man’s defeated, he eats it. He slurps it like soup.
As the box becomes worshipped, our fall has a parachute.