Tuesday, May 4, 2010


6 poems

SENSE OF POETIC DECAY

Clean your toilet.
The asteroid is groundhogging.

After people have an operation
I eat soup
Always on the threshold of conversion.


FEEL A POEM BUCK, FEEL MY COCK TUCK

Head from dead
Betty White.


DRINKING OR NOT DRINKING

Oil spill on
The shopping bag stuffed with shopping bags.

Car bomb, a comatose egret
That consequences.


FOOD SOLD HIS FATHER

Pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, p.

His mother was an unidentified white male.


I KNOW GOD DOESN'T GIVE US MORE THAN WE CAN'T TAKE

Banana up my ass.
She said I was ready.

Banana up her ass.
I said that already.

A banana is something we believe is possible.
Red light wallows in light bulb glaze.


AT A TOP HOTEL

I am naked in multiple hotel rooms.
The satellite sends or responds to my commands.
I fear my rest ahead has become

The novelty of a hammer just hovering a moth. 
In multiple hotel rooms are
STDs, breezes.
Blame this on a masked stranger who first spots the holy number in a timeline.

2 comments:

Ani Smith said...

Light bulb glaze is exactly what i was thinking.

RC Miller said...

intercontinental telepathy.