Friday, October 8, 2010

3 Poems


Early modern scorpion composed of fingernails
Resolves catching frogs in a tadpole.
There are still places in the world where
A bag of nuts sniffs the air and wags its tail.

The morning light comes to a park
Gagging on huge amounts of saliva
Wrung from tap water.
My shiny umber pancreas sports urine for hair.


I'm always fascinated by celebrities riding the NYC subway.
I yield to them like they're evil witches come true.
You know, celebrity foreheads always make me cry tiny blobs of
Nature like some rampant dysentery.
I particularly dig how the glob of zebra dropped next to me
Is one crazy hooker.
He prefers to have sex with another zebra for free
Thanks to Bush and Cheney's special seafood swallowing.
Unless you also fuck that way there's no way for you to 
Have scalp surgery so I can appeal to something born
That won't change.
Blessed be thousands of pieces of celebrity blown up in this subway.
I am their usual prisoner.
You know, pushing an uh button for a tug from the above.
I particularly enjoy how evil witches ride my forehead
Like a swallowing sea.
I want to love them but oh oh oh oh....
Blessed be shots of a naked zebra body on the internet 
No one has rights to.
I am their usual designer
Unpurified as those who continue to re-incarnate
Until they are contracted.


Each final creature vinegars itself.
Each mustard multiplies that mystery.
The earth gives up a whoop of plagues.

Tree with loud shade.
Two tables of ears.
Lipped stone as pure as price

Scales onions on each unclear spirit
Reborn a savior's molten gurgle.
Order without eyelid.

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