I was just -

This cliff calls for a stampede
Of learning to fly, dead weight,
Golden balls of blood.
Life flows back into the water,
and

in the woods...

This is what my chest looks like if you open it up:
Trees like paintbrushes dabbing a sky of coarse fibers,
Fish jumping to loosen their eggs or something,
Water that plays the world back to itself,
Birds singing to each other just trying to relate,
And a lumberjack emptying his bowels behind a bush.
It's not so beautiful if you've seen it a million times;
You'd probably close me back up,
Remove your gloves, wash your hands, and call it a day.

a-b-b-bah-buh-bah-bah-b-buh

Sun-bleached swine hang by the neck,
Tears rolling down their chinny-chin-chins,
Bursting little piñatas
Sugary intestines pile miles in square feet
Of the muddied pens of fucking idiots.
Every part will be put to use -
Heads, tongues, and brains -
This little pity went to market!
This little pity had roast beef,
This little pity had none.
This little pity stayed home.

roksez2leef

Rock says to the leaf, "I need a new tongue."
"Why?" ponders the leaf.
"I'm colorless, heavy, and dull.
With a new tongue I may taste
which direction the wind is blowing."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"I have no nerves."
"Well is there no other reason?"
"There is. So I can love and maim you."

smashsmashsmashsmashsmashsmashsmash

14 s's, 7 m's, a's, and h's just to title this,
47 smashes just in that first line,
Smash the keys, until they lock up
Tryin'a dress to impress,
Shittin' all over myself with the same basic colors,
Brown, orange, green, in
Clumps, balls, lincoln logs, liquid discharge,
Like a sputtery old car choking and dying.
56 is the word count now, 62, 63,
Smashing these keys with nothing in mind,
Nothing in mind 'til I project it on,
But no amount of revision can save
A steaming pile of smashes.
Creativity lost in the ubiquity of the spiders' web,
Just playing in shit.
Forming it into new shapes,
getting wrapped tight.
An entire existence in denial.
Smash. Smash. Smash.
Chomp.

plum brandy

Drop the bomb, here I stand,
Got the next one on hand?
gonna drop like a #1 debut,
off the charts, on the top,
Somewhere in between,
Walking around,
Don't know what to do with myself
My hands write
My mind's not
Hey let's have a bath,
you and me, let's get wet
Sog like prunes in the blankest rooms,
Mauve stains all over the carpet,
All that's left