Thursday, April 21, 2016

The Night Crickets

The night crickets
    never sing
        into the morning

       they fly
    into the galaxy
     like angels consumed
           by the violets

Friday, April 15, 2016

My Sky-full Skull

My sky-full skull
can't stomach

                           spirits like this

feel the place
into your mouth

        my sickbed has
                            spirits like this

no one is
 no one goes
    one goes
    one is
                 with spirits like this

spirits like this

travel by taxi              *
at no cost                                     *

have no                                                   *
exponential weight    *         *  

   *        *               *          *                *
the   *    flies    *  fly      *     around              *
                             *                        *        
spirits like this  *
       *                       *
                *                           *
my sky-full skull
can't stomach         *  

fatal expert-spirits
like this

Wednesday, April 13, 2016

Factual Voids

Nothing is intentional

      nothing explores the negative
                  human truth

                      the separate truth

                            is somewhere
                     arranging itself

                  without questions

             nor discussion
       nor description

it plunges nothing

into a layering of
     factual voids:

           get a humorous take


              greatness is everywhere

                sexy daddy

                  legends are forever

                        this best explains my feelings

                            about that

                              limited edition

                             blazing riffs

                         some might call


                   when the

                    octopus escapes

                        everyone is going to go crazy

                           at your service

The Brain Active

On that one occasion
I asked if he
for better or worse
had those lights
so eloquent
his answer came

I was going crazy
for putting myself
through the memory
of the time the devil could talk
through my well received
food on the table

there was no disgrace
when I was young
during my forgotten
weekend mornings
reading novels on
the bus to nowhere

there are many adults
that discover a newly
Roman Catholic neighborhood
who believe the vegetables
understand the context
at a fairly basic level

writers write the
brain active and emulate
the white and black and
the impact on this fictional
memory called broken
basket society

my parents met while
a dozen stuffed animals
argued about the scattered
future somewhere in a dungeon
that once held grandfather's
80 year old secrets

I was going to
insert dialogue to honor these
"doing quite well" frijoles
made from what appeared to be
a children's picture book
equipped with a free gift