THE UNTYING

My renunciations

Are as dim sum as a birth scene

A smokeless deer-headed infantry

Cradles me like the newborn

Ultramarine ground

----------------

Snail on a

Spider

Without a maker

In the corner of abandoned greatness

One day I'll stick

To the sequence of the jellyfish

Commanding from long beards

A centipede

Whether it's called a centipede

Or heaven

Prior to the final rebirth

----------------

Through the streets

The swallower of lifeforms inclines toward 

Animals corralled for slaughter

Horrific umbrella of four snakes burning

The flowering tree 

Like mixed circles rendered some persistent spoon

The flowering tree follows its convention

Condemned to the cycle of space and color

A lifeform then swallower

2010 SKETCHES

1)

And a lot of cute girls love that premature baby

Looking fabulous as it hand glides.

And a lot of cute guys love that gallbladder

Squashing along like a hot pink premiere

With a gazillion pantsuits fashioned from surgical lights.

And soundscapes of elephant

Litter the soy sauce strangeness

Of a romance between conjoined twins

After they've sawed each other apart to death; to

Shanghai, my father looks for a peculiar strain of cilantro, then

Spends his deep strangeness inside an outdoor cage

Digesting me.

2)

Feels like a neverending year where my woman 

Wants to increase the many moments that

A writer could write while staying the same person

Even if everything that nourishes deep down

Is actually some dying urge 

Looming above

Should I be able to repeat

Our real fruit flavor

With a mouthwatering aroma

Fast absorbing

Dangerous levels of spatula

Over steady backbeats

3)

I euthanize the live ones.

I call them an angry force or the shitty.

After hours in a fishbowl

More consumers cite parasitic worms

Than all other media combined.

I'm just going to keep my head down to avoid

Seeing the whale carcasses decomposing in the chow hall.

It's hard to prevent my drunken driving from sucking one of them.

This central midmorning of thick crowds

Gropes and stalks those religious people

Like they're the bloodiest and certainly

The most anatomical martyrs

Since Sam Walton and George Dayton.

An avalanche refloats

Well out to sea.

I concentrate on the boiling rovers.

EXPLOSIVE UNDERWEAR

I reorder anal sex in the middle of an oil platform.

I'll status soon a cigarette's unit of time.

Cardholders rot like mountains of frozen yogurt and

The next night confirm more time

For contacts and consolatory calendars to 

Preview as full slide-out

Legs climbing the walls of an airplane on fire.

Basically, I have a nosebleed that stops my eyes

From marking their return trail.

Bed of sweet pain jumpstarts my new anal angel.

With the flag that covers our son's coffin

We preorder a favorite wine

And disappear into julienned kneejerks.

When it's showtime some soldiers are still going to call

Her a bitch no matter if she snowshoes over 

An oil platform in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico

Or wonders what it's like to rosebud then fuzz away

Toward the mountain winter right next to mine.

Poem @ Literary Tonic

3 Poems @ SpokenWar

4 Collages

Concrete

Flu

Birds

Idol

LIQUIDATOR

The bars close down around me forever.
The virgin wraps herself in riptides
From the heart of the sea.
The land casts itself into the deepest void
Of dragon and of devil.
The bones of sheep bludgeon the streets
Like cemeteries of rain.
The saint with his hands
Breaks me into a thousand pieces.
A stream of fire on his head
Instead of hair.
I pity my children, I pity
The lewdness of the grain, the
Wine and the boil.
The saint burns the fields
Which my lovers have given me,
And anoints himself with my waste.
I mean, he's just all about the butt
These days.

CHRONICLE

Faithless cities compound the tents of those
Who once tended cattle.
Dagger in my hand and I'm imagining a swift stab
Through my heart
And saying yes to eternity in the demon's den.
Split whips strewn across the plundered fields.
Raw-food convenes despite the climate change heat.
Reluctantly, I go home
And meet him in one of his pretty little dresses.
He is posing for the neighbors
Who obviously enjoy it.
I try running away but trip on a bulge in XXXL overalls.
Side by side underneath the steamy moon
Cattle diligently masturbate then rest before their flight.

MAD MONK JUNK

Sayu Tera's got 3 Poems @ No Teeth

RC Miller fronts

a few poems @ the infamously anti-fascist Calliope Nerve

and another here

"POEM OF THE RECLUSE" @ Asphodel Madness

LAWN

Sitting at my desk

It looks alluringly androgynous.

That pine tree less than two feet away

Resembles a mechanical doll sporting a garish ballet dress

Ready for the sailboat, ready for the finger hole. 

Assembled drones fill midday with

Marijuana and had sex, wee-hours and lunch on a uniform.

From one trash can to the other trash can,

I scurry like

Molars extracted out of the maple.

Praise be the host, praise be

The snow pimping down on tow-truck town.

Fatherless reaper paces up and down

My deck.

Black girls heal the brokenhearted.

This weird decade is ending, now is the time

To thin instantly.

Foreclosure. Paid programming. No back pain-

This microcosm is it, so why bother

Proving yourself with a straight razor.

Some bullets go past somebody's flesh.

Beasts and cattle and creeping things and flying birds

Stare blankly in recovery and awe.

Two aliens invade the same planet. 

They take me to the bay, put me on a blip.

The meat and wine has such cold insides.

I don't think much of immortals or pity.

The houses at night swallow a yellow beak

Just barely rubbing, then plunging all the way,

Like, hard.

ANNULAR

Only God knows the unbelievable

Bars, defiant forms, and boutiques.

Only God

Lets us hydroplane down the highway

Distraught and unique.

OK, so we're both expanded by the ebb of some fable.

Rivers and vegetables and our non-word surprises

Like a television series' important turnaround.

You nail me to the wall, the viewers arrive in droves.

It's then the germs thrive

And there's ample appetite for rat.

Given the amount of change about to happen, the

Clergy doesn't take their cue and doesn't have a pan.

You nail yourself to the wall, we're talking 

Technologies that won't be going away.

A mass email message obliges:

Always attach bait before setting the snare.

OK, so rivers are televisions programmed to provide

A short order spook or a stupor.

Like vegetables implying the form of a rat, only within

Coffins may one appetize the trim enough

To go into the ground beef.

It's then I finally permit misunderstanding

And wander about for lack of food.

SAME-HEX

I've configured a cot over your fire, and

I'm getting close to its memory.

From green grass to brown,

We kiss like

Top hats instead of heads, like

Grammy nods instead of meds.

If sock puppets without eyes can see us in a mirror,

We're perfect.

EQUINOX

Cyanide clad,

I drive-by

UNKNOWN TO THE GREAT UNKNOWN

My penis is starved of oxygen and must be amputated

I'm welcomed to summit puddle a land high

In the Himalaya soured over an increasingly belligerent

Dispute about patches of border that premiere

A Tibetan slideshow of

Some Paralysis Set For Thursday Night

My penis launches the new-age hippie vibe now available as mixed berry, peach mandarin, and green tea; mineral spas with hints of orange possum entombment in a private mausoleum in Glendale CA

Violence or pure fun RINGS A STIRRING ST. AB

BANISTER

Emboldened by '08 in a land high in the Himalayas to soil W McKINLEY Jr.

And SAM DILLON's

Conservative parents' land THERE OR BACK up the president's cunt

trying to indoctrinate his children with socialist ideas

And shit it

Turns this stub on

When the preservatives take charge in bed

Monsters blush

Out of moving sinkholes to MEAT one giant aneurysm

Humping the neighbor yet all I do is complain

A West Virginia event events my

Clotting like fast smartphones snap odysseys of vaccine addicts defiled by worshipping Saturn's MILF

Fiction widening neutrality between economists and have-bots

The GREAT

won't exist, and piss stalls look brighter

in Washington and reckless risk-taking on Wall Street but also of faulty theorizing in academic

hexagonal inner-city club dancers wanting to break into hip-hop videos and

about to violate a made-to-order sundae or a

vaporized Monica Almeida make believing that The New York Times is a Burial Home after the election of

UNKNOWN TO THE UNKNOWN

THERE OR BACK

CLUB MEAT

WANNA VAGINA

NELLY FURTADO

don't be mad

don't be man

only a brain could cook me the play way

say

there be a smell like no other

Annie Le the 24-year-old who was last seen I assume

an endorphin

Amen

Gland mysteries @ > kill author published 3 Poems

ARRIVING

Crow from a scare

Ranch

Gravy gravy gravy

Laughter changes into demon

I waste my date

Fisting left and right

I wonder sometimes

So what if the silkworm

Slowly sucks

A stone not born to die

We all have to go that way

And combine