DELETED SCENE

Re-this, re-whatever, your boobs

Reinvent me.

Set them in the pot, set them on.

Pour water over all the gold pieces

Of my thigh and smolder.

Choose a bone and boil it

With flesh from your feet.

Say, my bone is your fruit.

Say, your boobs are birds of the air

Scaling columns of moons of blood.

Choose my flesh to soil and enter.

Re-this, re-whatever, your columns

Of thigh and shoulder

Reinvent the bone and set the moons in a pot

With their blood on fire.

Pour birds on all the rich pieces of your boobs

Until I am the same smell as 

Death crawling without a ruler, singing

The silence of Earth

Before us.

VIBE

I see few stars.

The worlds are sooner and sooner.

I read while paying

The overcrowded brains

Many people

Born from babies barely breathing

In a world that's sooner and sooner.

I look for stars on top of you, it's

Like photographing a forbidden execution.

And I pay to barely breathe

People and parts of country

Moving outside the evacuated air, passing

Through bodies and sending money back

So we can live under suns and build power

With bloodshot walls bearing too many gloves 

Wearing fingernails unwilling to talk.

HEIDI'S BEEN HIDING

On your face a fox

Bottleneck biting

The rain before it's charmed

Like a drunken fury tooling naively

Here in cities of ghoulish and practical curbs

We follow the brain to lose the breath

We observe a wind the roof sinks in

Federation cum underneath the wrens

Making glorious the servants of 

Boon-sucked ant milk to sweep

Cordless warpaths throttle

A dim intercom

Peck and transmit

The wedgie sneaking across her thong

Onion on the blade, it suggests

My guts

Jiggling out of the cold

Not yet air

But autofellatio

Still as a stretcher

Cozy like chocolate calfskin

I think meatball and baby in her

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

Yesterday the wind again

Might as well

Exfoliate hobbling

Hookers from the mall

Priming a place to crate

What's left for the 

Mud-flaps

Slugs

Patio diseases

Cocaine

And the minidress lather of

Primitive races whose mystic spirit

Premeditates my thrifty

Rachel Bilson-inspired pocket pool

5 Poems

A LARGE RETAILER

Everyday, billions

Imitate a roach teabagging

Pursuers that

Sign their names

Eating brains

CLOUDS AND GLACIERS

Viewer, just east

Thaws will open

Pointless distinctions, and yes

There is a dress code

Going to get us

Milky underneath

Or unknown causes

To a fine looking movie, to

A nightstick, to the

Bomber by

The black-suited

Debit card receipt

And I may rummage around 

Behind your tail, my partly frozen

Eyebrows

Scrunching dark spotted jurors

Almost covering the pecked out

Vanisher

NEBULA

People look tasty

When a photo of one

Is visible

From the nebula

Bursting biblical fashion

Many years away

Its

Mesmerizing optical hollow

Raises I cakes

'MO SEXTING

Ten days after Christ's Presidents Day

I leave you torture porn, and it

May be the earliest photo of the universe

In worm-terms, O dead actress sacker, that's

Not saying much

Possibly, my good dick at the end of the bed

Perhaps, I'll torture the ambassador, the dragon, the

In between that pillowcase

A year from now

Predatory hair-gel

We are up against the unlit

We can board planes with

Five to six pills per void, worldly

Swirling like a banshee's tenor 

And I slip into the plants

As a raw scanner breather

And on

An island-chain an odd sing-a-long

Shares the great suffering

Not many of us are heads

IMPLANTED

I've come to love

Bone loss, the

Four-digit codes

Implanted into other gunmen on the loose

I thought once

No one hears

I can't see anything

No one hears

No one hears

I can't see anything

And for that 

A tiny block of cheese

Both touches and inspires

8 Poems

GALOSHES

Sloshing on the swallower

Of lifeforms corralled for slaughter

Spoon like space and color

Condemned to the cycle 

Of a lifeform then 

A swallower then a 

Lifeform slaughterer of the manager's special

THE UNTYING

Ultramarine ground

Cradles me like the newborn

Gnat-headed

Snail on a spider

In the corner of greatness

Without a maker

And 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

BETTER THAN DYING SO SPANK IT

And lots of cute girls love that premature baby

Looking fabulous as it hand glides.

And lots of cute guys love that gallbladder

Squashing along like a hot pink premiere

With a gazillion pantsuits fashioned from surgical lights.

And soundscapes of emphysema

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 op art cage

Digesting me.

WHITEY BOUND FOR MARS

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.

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.

BUY METHING

Pupils of ink rejoice in treetops

Rubbing rivers to take impressions 

Of overcooked, human-like relaxers,

Small and seasalting 

The rattles at dawn, and inside

The larvae is a drowned spirit

Perversely lodging

Deep pits with basements

And 99 atmospheres

That reboot me just fine

PEEPHOLE

As dirt washes and blenders pulse, I place

Corn down the invader

Off-tick my pen hours, the socks and broth

Prep for weeks

An eden of the small, marvelous fawn

Sipping from a river and nervously gawking 

At seasides of egg, the

Cheap pits

Hissing when all my sadness is lawn

YOUR FRIEND, FRIEND

Said day-playing gnostic games takes

My lungs away, as then a gypsy

Exposes the soul-crushing delay

And she brandishes me 

With a swearing by God that

When heralded refills

The eden of my pit

The rubber pupils

The socks in the casket that lay and lay

2010

Up a passenger told an officer

Of threats throughout the lawless remote

Like neverending gears within the wildcats

Urging me to nourish a real fruit

Mouthwatering aroma flavor

Fast absorbing

Dangerous levels of spatula, a record snowfall

Over steady backbeats

From the octopus I bow

VIC CHESNUTT STONEHOUSE

Pupils of ink rejoice in treetops

Rubbing rivers to take impressions 

Of overcooked, human-like relaxers,

Small and seasalting 

The rattles at dawn, and inside

The lodged larvae is a drowned spirit

Perversely locking

Deep pits with basements

And 99 atmospheres

That will suit me just fine

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

As dirt washes and blenders pulse, I place

Corn down the invader

Off-tick my pen hours, the socks and broth

Prep for weeks

An eden of the small, marvelous fawn

Sipping from a river and nervously gawking 

At seasides of egg, the

Cheap pits

Hissing when all my sadness is lawn

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

Said day playing gnostic games takes

My lungs away, and then a gypsy

Exposes the soul-crushing delay

And she brandishes me 

With a swearing by God that

When heralded refills

The eden of my pit

The rubber pupils

The socks in the casket that lay and lay