uncleaned fur

who you are
you are
the cat’s ass
you are

uncleaned fur
walking
with your chest
hanging out


they say
you are crass
you say
what they say

uncleaned fur
dressed scantily
on the street corner
with your chest
hanging out


you feel
civilized
he peels
banana’s
she replies


uncleaned fur
swinging from branch to branch
with his chest
hanging out

she said
he said
after we got
outta bed
making crooked love

uncleaned fur
forgot
to zip up
left himself
hanging out


I smell
you tired
walking down the street
eyes half open
a car rocks you – expired

uncleaned fur
bleeding onto the road
with your chest
hanging out

a dinosaurs honesty

The earth does not find a place in us, we find our place on the earth.

Dinosaurs didn’t speak. They left their story behind with their bones. The easiest way to conceptualize these mesozoic beauties would be through modern reptile behavior. All that remains of the tyrannosaur is the small scurrying salamander you see making his daily appearance catching ants and other bugs. Not much of a material legacy was left behind by these giants. The closest thing they had to material culture they digested and excreted. That was the most comparative chemical reaction analogous to homo sapiens ‘art’. Thankfully, certain strands of nucleic acid chains called DNA survived the Triassic extinction and carried on towards modern day. Willpower over the emotions originating in our primitive brain area has allowed art to flourish through the act of self expression.

Art is a chemical reaction. It is consciousness trying to escape itself. The act of expression is an effort to bind to others as if they were so many receptors. We then become compounds (society). Interaction is the basis of humankind. We as humans are our own periodic table of elements. We are talking stars. We are thinking clouds.

Our skyscrapers will become our fossils. The bones we leave behind will appear to have been deformed by aching spirit and our Great aerobic feats will decompose along with our flesh. The spoken word-- by far our most incredible accomplishment -- will evaporate like water into the wind and indeed they will become artifacts of silence.

the sea slows us

the sea slows us
which shows us


we don’t have wings.


the sea knows us
for she exposes us

our tiny vessels
glide so lonely on her
smooth blue skin


she says
farm carefully,

your ambitions

[I] shall swallow you
and coerce the wind
to blow you men down

the sea rows us
but encloses us

no societies without gills,

the sea disposes us
swallowed into her skin
she parts us in two
walks between us

towards revenge

spheres

stop shaking your spheres at me!
they’re dull

never have I seen a sphere shake
it’s way through anything

sphere’s shaped like works
I mean,

words. worries me,

your ambitious ammo

likespheres, shaky,

dull and unmeaning

yours, to me
childish and unweilding

alls I goshdarnit
ever hear
are balls rolling off your
tongue!

they don’t cut
like themspears

shake my ears

i laugh at your balls,
spheres --
whatever..

but,
they don’t hit
me
like
angels

at 63

Iggy shouts ‘cut -- take two!’


Now deaf,
I shake my head
out of a deep sleep
Realizing I’m not in a rehearsal hall

But at home,
crosswise in a hammock
off the
east coast
of Costa Rica

staring up the tall wooden leg
of a banana tree


addled, fragments from the past
unwillingly enter my mind
like stray frequencies

in unsystematic streams

wrinkled, I cannot stop
These chemical
dog ears
from forming

like a book
read non sequentially

I keep falling into another story
Unable to trace my way back ho

Falling deeper
As each chapter closes in on me


still feels a lifetime away

at 63

thought on the train

everything now is meant to serve the individual, but, still fails to cater to the collective


the noise between
us grows

exponentially drowns out
hope


empathy

humanity
u
growing up

with deformities

in our own
weekly
predatorials

cities
becoming
metastized masses

at bay station
i see empty eyes
lost in
self actualizations

being human

if i could take the hands of nature
and paint life a different way

i'd rub myself out
of this scenery

and use my last breath
to revive sad souls

.

starting over

giving others
second chances

i'd only see
from the stars

.

all on a summer's night

in a dimly lit sex office
parked near
antigonish

outside,

insects
penetrate all four
windows

inside,

perverse
femoral
movements

lips lock

hips hit

appendages
find their way

into your bermuda triangle, i get lost

all on a summer's night

.

let's return to that Place and create sparks by welding into eachother

i want to be with hue

I love her more than the word itself
so much,
I wish I could answer her
from another time

to clean up this canvas
from all of the bad colors

I am

to be with her in pure Technicolor


I would be her

I deal,

so much

martyst

you began from absolute zero

but every breath exhaled

sketched soft impressions

into the wind,



until your breakdown

slashed through

the canvas

pulled you into heaven

so close, not far

for Jason,


when everything is so clear

the night sky
is the celestial meeting ground for

distant lovers

gaze up

and meet her eyes
in the stars

deadly medley

hey dude,
don’t make it bad

your candle burnt out long before

we could rock you

two dirty words, and what they mean

love [is falling in and out of the same person] forever