more poetry!

not only is the house noisy, now it's smelly.
it's the 2nd nite in the last 3 that i've been unable to sleep.
i didn't write any new poetry but i still have 2 left over from the other nite, so.


tracking two

hell is a farm on the brink of mythology
and a starcruiser out of gas
or ionized starfuel, as it were
linoleum classroom floors amidst cellar doors
and pacified aggression.
instead of attack and decay on a boat
they say fore and aft -
nobody knows where it started
least of all the poet
but it always ends on a farm
or a starcruiser
- so how do i know?
definitionaly, like two layers of eggbread cottagecheese ripe bellpepper dip-spread aubergine and you have yourself a sandwich,
or a stomach ache
which maybe you've never seen face to belly, as it were
but there's never a doubt
catastrophically, we were upset at being upset at being upset but the twists never turned and the iceberg never hit and then crack, who to tell first?
but there was never a doubt never
and all along it's a terrible sound, round, like smells and heart-ache which are the representations which they thing
as in meta and for and foreign ambassador
and so we didn't elope on 20th may i mother may i
crush this lifeless caucus race
and sift through garbage
another day.

cubic resentment

the final clap clears away long before i climb into bed
to wit i awoke long before i realized i was awake
an unstable arrangement of reds and recordings
resentment and betrayal
movement and shame
and life.
there i was dripping and naked, sprawled on the floor
all a ringing and spinning and movement
did i mention movement
how lewd to move muscles that are not stringy green beans
not cooked overnight in cacophonic and moral certitude
and righteous nausea
which is a dish so dense that when it cracks it explodes,
rips in thirds lengthwise
and folds along mobius rows,
unwilled and impassive and generally burnt.
but so impelled to forget all my fears, i arose and prepared
for my grand entrance outwards
steam blowing behind, born by sheer nervousness
and sickness of mind.

6am poetry

early morning, the 6 bus arrives and you haven't heard it yet which means you know it's 5:10am and the sun isn't out yet but that won't step the early early commuters and the late late partiers from northing on up to the loop and then to where? whatever the bus is probably empty anyway.

splitting fur

smoking sometimes in a sanguine shelter
licks of pain
and the presence of pleasure
and chiefly rabbits whose fur's notsomuch matted as stuck
like chunky spikes and the stench of your vomit
your stomach's half-cooked effluvia
like carrots on top of charmed pencil-cones and honey-tipped
bereavement, bake on high for days and days
a silent haze
stealing surely but quickly but layered
yes as in matisse but also as in beer
playing games with the foam-flecked freedom fighters
who move on diagonal when straight is too much
and jump through all hoops+garters to get to the finish
but now find themselves blind, dead and made of stone
or possibly cracked, malformed plastic
because the mold didn't hold
it wanders into alleyways and drifts past wrinkly whiskers
to speak in a desultory tone
that is
desultorily, not that we care
hush, listen:
the night is old, the sun is not up
the stones are cold, the wind is risen
the rattle of bones and the science of transit
will interweave their lessons into your dreams
and mine
and we won't even know.

i can tell that we are gonna be friieieieieinds

I go to the FRAK EASY last night. I sleep first and then I wake up and it's time to go but the crew is asleep at the helm and we are veering off course. far, far off course. but then I know that the car can keep me company on the road and I glitter up and head off, always 2 lanes ahead of the sunrise. Old Unreliable makes it over the freeway.
The FRAK EASY is definitely best between 4 and 9 in the morning.
This is it - we finally come to a moment that I wait for all my life.
Now I can finally be the life of the party and get my sleep.

there is a beautiful kid who I recognize - otter's zombie buddy from halloween FRAK EASY - all pierced and tattoooood.
we dance and then dance. I feel groovy.
we sit and cuddle. I feel yummy.
We dance more.
Everybody beams and eats pie and pancakes and scrambled eggs that xenon makes. All my friends smile like upsidedown rainbows.
and then Old Unreliable makes it back over the freeway and I read anthropology book by david graeber, "possibilities - essays on hierarchy, rebellion, and desire".
the FRAK EASY is more interesting and I don't like the "comma-and" construction in the title.