from Poems of the Drone Years
A Exhalation On Boundaries
Suddenly all stupefied dancers
Self-conscious stumble on their boundaries
Shuddered efforts to erect tresses
Substitute erections of the in-walled quiverers
Constrained, the stage entombs its boundary
A scar-line of officials protects the flaunterer
From parting follied masses
And so now forged, indolent crowd desires to flay its face
Blackout noise defilement of objects
The shatter-din of boundaries broken
Glassy displays boarded with discarded faux-wood
Dull concealment of virgin, precious kitsch
Seething manipulator of fate
Give us — The Duplicitous — one last maddened swoon
Flame-topped charmed with ecstacy
Terrible collaboration in seizure night
Oceans
The origin of deepest oceans began with a lost boy
Who terrored wander through horrid wilderness
Nerves alarming & electric,
pulsing peristaltic blood, expand swollen throbbing veins
Transformed into a large and gaping, unblinking eye
Drifting vagus perception of enslaved nature in all landscapes
Directly, peripherally, with crystal folly in every method of looking
And in his lone unblinking eye a salty tear glacial welled
And brimming held the surface tension of this desolate teardrop over eons
And in its turgored sorrowed glaze was refracted All of The World
Until stupid physics would hold it no more
And spilled loneliness across the desert globe
Crowd Planter
Planting things in crowd?
- or -
A crowd of plants?
No jokes about death?
- or -
Only jokes about death?
Galvanizers consumed in dark
Sad alchemy of wrath-snort soldiers
Quarantined and hunger harassed
The sinks be clogged with dogs’ last bark
O, they’re edited in cut-up halves
No alchemy for claw-loose cellar wolves
Gnawed by blue-black pseudo-worry
In enclaves plants a faker gaffe
Peristalsis
Winter in the belly of a worm
The scream of the red passage
One thing’s belly is another’s bleeding highway
Cocoon falls
Past Oral derivations
Contractions dripping foul excretions
Vistas seen in pinholed mauls
Winter in the belly of the worm
Spectral screams of unborn monarchs
Stretched across past oral shame
Projections contracted out
Winter in a belly of the worm
Golden entrails left behind
A passage etched in shimmering slime
Sinewy ooze-sining waves
Ambience of hellsnaked terms
The way is through & not around
Contracting projections arrested
Projected contractions detested
Opportunity
As life mocks an aging Man
constantly missing his ship
Who on his raft carries a burnt model
In an unlabeled bottle
Drugged student of teeming life inside
Hacker of immortality
Hacking heaven imp adrift
Undying, unliving, a ragged survivor forever
Sea-bait, an ocean pursed his ghostbait lips
The dying Man
On leaking raft without a plan
With crystal Eye to refract falling stars
But not the hands to grasp gas stars
The Full-Grown Youth
Microcosmic wrinkles,
blasphemic beauty face and mind,
Clay-encrusted, absorbed containing
the disabled-longing cries of cankered youth
of mundane toiling mute refraining
Man, with your boundless music
Immediately motheaten and composted
Destined to obsolescence from the misconception
The freed expert of discarding
And nurturer of left-behinds
Submerged with Fists
Those masters of a handless art
Unbecoming limbs
Bent in and atrophied proclaiming
Clanging down the wooden halls
A game played without fun
Laughless
Belated
Spineless bundles, clanging nerves
Nettling together in dank-cold fisted night
Hello?
The dead man on the phone
Hatches plans into your abstinence nest
Sleepless & yet sedate
A demented destruction-sonata
buries its hues into motheaten eardrums
Insidious and submerged with fists
Burrowing in vacated dreams
To the din of a prison full of limbs
Clattering empty cups on steel bars
Threnody frenzy at the millenium mists
Silenus’s Baby
When the helpless child’s belly is sliced in half
Where tumored organ was excised
And tumor gone it’s now sewn shut,
A fuchsia crack pasted with goo
Resting on her bed, feathers blackened down
Beneath elongated mirror, irradiated gut
Bored, not knowing what to do,
I hypnagogic sing my whisper
Cancered child of Humanity!
Behold your images in the
Temporary respite of artifice!
Sedate, a strongest head on its detaching hair
Your doors are shutting down this season
These shortened days o’erflow with languid anal jokes
Furnished with a hole of reason
And living dances, improvisations tar-baked
Onto the mouldered platforms of closed bars
Malign the barricaded streets of smoke
I gaze in your eyes like statued Silenus nurturing a wild infant
Unwanted but bad-new-day embraced
In Fall’s shady nights under World’s Unfair pavilions
Wanting to go under with you, your ‘crack’ is closed to the outside
Beyond this fevered winter I will carry you, with strongest wretched arms
Riding out this toxic tide,
And foment this screaming cicada’s brew
Dinner Party
A sort of feast on the deepest underbelly
of an ungrowing city
Mold-silver diner on a festered marsh
Centered roses burgundy block cross-gazes
Smoking pylons spew a world’s-worth of black heat
The flame-headed boywoman
With psycho teeth and glass-shocked eyes upturnt
Says that we are not living
May once have been living, but no more
Probably an afterimage we dine in
A blemish of a hellcamp
Worth nothing, words soon end
An effusive communal laugh bellies out before
it is quickly swallowed
And indigestable goes to a history snake-gut
Cancering around infinity
A tumor on eternity
Seams So
Seam rippers on the prowl
Challenging the seamless
The latest slicing open mess
A moaning pleasure sends an owl
Through gaping head he lessens less
Scissors meet the owl’s loom
But trying hard cannot undress!
Fall
A cancerous sore
On the pin-holed
Absentee
Why is their hair like that?
The only reason they leave their woodwork
Is to collect deformed data
Cold evidence, uncharming
Documents dripping rancid sweat
Sawed-off fiends
Shuttering doors
Clang randomly
Or do they just crawl out to die in a courtyard,
finding perfect centerspace
To shrewdly prove perfection lives only in death?
I, urinating in the rose bush
Frozen steaming concrete courtyard
Brittle bones tar-scarlet autumn night
Frankincense and myrrh yellow clouded
Whorish wafts through the bricked
Labyrinth of laboring post-industrial doom
Burn-stains dead eyes hoary ochre
Fire tears refract and weeping premonition
vague, the origin of civil war
On the city's smoldering fringes
A one-eyed boy nurses a hologram
Distant cousin of providence
The Bubble Makers
Ephemeral cascades fragile bubbles
Shaped by virgin lung, the origin of Wind
From the child’s pink-vore mouth
Each bubble a coherent world
Bounded, duplicitous & soon dirempted
To expire into oppressive atmosphere
Each followed by another, and formed by the former
Residual soapy film of daggered wands
Translucent film from escaped bubble to escaping bubble
The game of Inflation:
bubbles coexist, sharing a mutual drift and refracting the other's light
and gassy luring,
affecting each other’s drifting fits
If they collide they sudden burst, their unstable integrity exploding
becoming putrid One with the dead-same atmosphere
Noxious ether of everything and nothing
Losing that iridescent fragility which makes them so
Magically articulate
The closer one gets the less they exist
Eventually, the bottle empties
The child scrapes the bottom
Avid student of delusion, asks for more
There are no more bottles today
Strange new soaps are invented
As the children muse over alien bubbles
As the children muse inside alien bubbles
Affecting each other’s iridescence
Inchworm
By nature’s condescending permission,
The groveling inchworm only knows two dimensions,
Flatness’s special surveyor
Between the second and third dimension
Inching along the cold-dark steel table, and onto another plane,
Azure rectangular card, then lifted and suspended in thinnest air
Peristaltic inchworm draped over the edge, head and ass on opposing planes
Each end expansive into contradiction, dirempted trains
As cosmos mocking flips the plane
With inchworm listless at the precipice
It can only suspect something beyond the flat
Slender raging for morrow’s discard
A suspect in its middling skin
Suspicion its ephemeral gift
Of Worms and Elephants
Said the stupefied scientist:
‘The worms used to digest cardboard
to crawl glacially
across the sundried dirt,
chasing an elephant,
before they, too, baked alive and
encrusted into the desert ground.
And the elephant, once itself encrusted
by many hands despaired to touch it, and
secretly to bury it,
vanished to a distant point.’