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feelings a cyclone undersea with the traps
as if Cristo himself designed infernal wraps
Pacific and placid demure and contained
if only could parse the howling in brains
lost everything dear two or three times
and never had much but a propensity for rhyme

36

six times six is thirty six
why did this give us such a fix?
we weren't taught the tables
they weren't in our mix
but how on Ur could they predict
that ignored child was into it?

so they sent us to learn to prance
to make funny faces and do a little dance
overheating in a costume like being eaten by ants
"What potential he has!" they repeated in a trance
and there we were on a track to "advance"

No one asked who we were, they told us instead
filled us with lies and terror and dread
the idea of not being a man like being dead
it took us a while to choose living instead

Break

this is an old one, like shedding a skin
slower than usual but growing within
burgeoning blithely it inflates a balloon on a pin
when the balloon nearly pops it sucks it back in
we used to just take every shot on the chin
but now we've forgotten how to even begin

Off To Bed

It's off to bed! we'll rest our head
hopefully to dream we're dead
(It's likely cats who'll wake us instead)
in our bed, where the drapes turn everything red.

USA Number One

Overload this burdened beast
let's whip her til she bleeds
break her back with endless toil
until we see her on her knees
"Get back to work you lazy bitch!"
We'll howl and beat her more
we won't relent until she's spent
used up and broken on the floor

How Torto Got Her Shell

Torto the lizard looked round the bay
and watched the crabs and fleas
she saw their armor and thought to herself
"Survival for them sure looks like a breeze!"
and promptly turned inside out.

Graveyard Dance

a perfect date would never end
a graveyard dance among the dead
decay and rot would fill our head
the scent of fire and blood and smoke
our love would tango and we'd both choke
from our writhing grows a chinkapin oak
in high desert sundown blush

Passion Plays

Passion plays on high desert hills
long shadows and the cacaphony of misery
stupid men whip themselves bloody
mountain doesn't believe in gods
desert isn't moved by their sobs
wood was wasted on your cross
the memories of your performances are now long lost

Springs

headwater springs under each eye
brookish burbling drowns out soft cries
swarms of recriminations like the Old Growth's deerflies
in time these rivulets now roaring evaporate to sky
and everything we've cared for will die

Brie — Haiku

a celibate monk
celebrates celibacy
sells and bakes brie

Small

Solitude a stone
tiny and complete
lonesome not alone
in multitudes discrete
one grey piece of gravel
on this endless shore
ground and round by thousands
each crying out for more
a grey stone isn't special
it's nothing much at all
it is just a vessel
and it's very small

Scoop

                     the edge of the moon
       scoops the sea and ripple
   white stripes approach
    obsidian distressed
tiny horse dance and run
avoid the smoldering wet sun
                    dripping into ocean
                     hissing with every drop
                boiling clouds to atmosphere
                                   blisters on our skin

Creosote Bush

Splintering like edging lust
verging on a break
the tree refuse to snap this time
no matter how it shake
this flood won't wash away the roots
to this raw earth it grabs
ragged grey bushy creosote
prone to oft relapse

Pain

Agony has flavors, shades
poetry in the pain
songs of loss and yearning there
for comfort which won't remain
a blossom red along our jaw
hits us like a train
infection abscess phantom what?
it's all just in our brain

Windmill

slash up and to the right
or down if we're left
and weighted heavily
an unnatural artifact
no justice but it's blind
tilting twisting a corkscrewed helix
spinng on axes we can't imagine
invisible

Motherland

Oh secret agent with you gadgets and you tricks
render us away from this nasty little fix
take us to a black site in a country far away
brainwash us and abuse us and put us on display
we'd gladly sing the praises of whichever motherland
will take our choice away and come up with a plan

Moo

rheumy eyes and chewing cud
bucolic scrawny flybitten beast
raw pink wound a brand on flank
seeping yellow sclera in the cold noon sun

Crevasse

We're used to the cold
we were born in a crevasse
blue walls on either side
grey rounded stones
wet and slick we come out
same way we did before
as fog we creep down towards the shore
drown and dissipate
make this globe a drop of water
with all life trapped inside

Smyrna

In Smyrna love is fungible
mountains of modular mates
if one loses a limb
pick another from the bin
assemble your ideal spouse

Elevator Music

a soothing buzz of workplace jazz
while interstitially transported
every thought will be recorded
each rogue wave gets deported:
Easy listening for souls aborted

Moeraki Jawbreakers

concretions in zealandia
giant's shooters a thousand ducks
these boulders enchant and draw us in
magnetic mud and stone
to gnaw on these a jaw would be
twenty meters wide
each tooth a boulder by itself
each yawn an avalanche landslide

The Boat

whistling Andy Griffith to a cat
reading about shark-eating pants
emailing our dearest friend about Olympus Mons
caring about nothing except some wild animals
killing time like Space Invaders rain
again
grace us with your presence, Sister
escort us to bed

Blister — Haiku

you were a blister
an irritating sore spot
where toe rubbed on shoe

Juniper Wednesday

circle us once and off to the race
the feral clowder scatters about
runs the yard and gives her good chase
Juniper smiling and laughing throughout
this is Tarquin's Tree, what we call our place
our overgrown Nissan the ferals' redoubt

Angle

reach down shoulder deep
   hold the cleat with the other
      hope the dock's wood flexing holds
         as you reach and grab
            a handful of rough rubbery straws
               dissect and watch the black-green ichor dilute away
                  bait your hook with a segment
                     dangle

City Night

catch a glimpse down the alley
a la verga that's three guys and one
   pass watch the lines flash
   water from the blacktop splashes up beneath our feet
the street can't feel the rain
and the lead sky doesn't end

Desert Willow

hospital bush you fall
blooming in defeat pink
like azaleas but not
little goblin flutes
or hats for horned toads
kokopelli would raise you up
but we'll just take and watch
for evidence of time

мы бритва

grind and swirl along with the groove
muddy grey flecks mix with rust and sweat
the odor raw and ozone like a shop
as the stone grinds us again and blood channels down
we didn't need our edge back

Stumble

tips and tricks and mental kludges
so many we don't remember what they are
a clockwork mobile with few natural urges
no clue how we've stumbled so far

Sleep

Sleep like will'o'wisps
lanterns dancing in the mist
enchanting ghostly miracles
eluding every pursuit
perhaps we will find their nest one day
and then its booty we'll loot

Steel Cables

a sphere of refraction sits on this insect's gaze
unearthly yet more natural than a T-shirt by far
something we wear that might be from Mars
our perspective snaps and we break apart
nothing of man is true to our heart
the rain like steel cables in the sun's rays

Sand — Tanka

a hesitation
paralysis before pen
is put to paper
sand drips from our eyelashes
when we want to paint beauty

Doggy Poetry volume woof

Chaos and mayhem and nasty surprises
Events and interactions which cause some demises
nobody knows what the ultimate price is
but staying away is what our advice is.

the bicycle kids the fortunate ones
she dreary as hell he chin missin from a shotgun
couldn't have been more than twenty one
to our selfish eyes it didn't look like much fun
but true love don't follow our prescriptions, son

Bones

our heartbeat can be erratic
and we're somewhat idiosyncratic
for example we like to write tight poems
densely packed hueros like ruins
we blame our mathematics

Gambling Ray — Monoku

Tell us a story about gambling Ray, dad, make it a good one.

A Wake of Buzzards

a wake of buzzards alighting
this weight upon our heart
our branches sag and creak
urohydrosis reeks up the yard
Very friendly creatures
their hellish heads aside
they roost here when we're fighting, dear
all other times they glide

Doggy Poems

Possibly a practioner of exegesis
could be mistaken for a telepathist
or Doctor Xavier from funny pages
a psychic platypus prone to rages?

Wouldn't know, never been,
plus they wouldn't let us in
we're far too forward and not very trim
(not to mention we're also quite skint)

Ipso Dipsomaniac:
feed the monkey on his back
buy some Pagos de Quintana
from the bodega on the corner
one liter oughtta get him lit
and then we'll all be in for it!

Opal

an opal's shattered shards
lie strewn about the courting yard
each shard a sliver razor sharp
disperses white light into colors
kaleidoscopic never duller
we two dance in our bare feet
our blood pools til we're ankle deep
but still we dance on endlessly
for she's fesleğen and we are bee

Heart — Tanka

arrhythmic and raw
it accelerates pell-mell
trip right bundle branch
the mind dissolves in static
no more murmurs in the heart

Chucks 3

we'd like to be a pair of Chucks worn on our sweetie's feet
but our despair gets everywhere even in our sleep
a shoebox bed is what we'd like; to sleep inside a drawer
she'd be the key to our cupboard and we'd never ask for more

"Pooh"

We had very little in common, Sartre pissed him off
That wee reincarnation of Genet's worst cellmate
or an unrealized Raskolnikov
no Materialist but materialistic
no Existentialist but a man of dread
we ran as far as we could from him
and we hope he's now long dead

Doggerel

A few doggerel pieces written as jokes/comebacks


Here let's check what's in our pocket
there it is, our card which says "Suck it"
If you flip it over and read what's written
you'll see that we are pre-forgiven
as we would be the licensee
a Scold who speaks in poetry.

Well, before your gore
we shall explore
a little poem,
perhaps a tad more
Or perhaps nor.

You're sifting through gore
and not finding more?
Perhaps you should google it
or go to the store!
Buy you some hamburger meat and some water
pour it all over the head of your daughter!

Gore on the floor?
look to the ceiling!
perhaps you will see
mangled bats bleeding!

we'd like to be latter-day Scold
fancy ourself a wandering fool
all pretension and artifice shorn like wool
who should have died young but gets old

The Rainbow Trees

watched the rainbow trees go grey
and know where some still live today
spent our life watching decay
of the lands in which we've stayed
still they come here trampling plants
squirting their fluids in a mating dance
breaking trail and killing Ur
piss their names on fresh-killed fur
humans breed out of control
greedy stupid asshole trolls
reptiles adapt to heat quite well
suicide monkeys call it Hell

Poseidon

If Poseidon was who created our muse
then why would she possess a nonbinary jew?
is it because we worship the sea?
or is it because we're a complete nobody?
import could not come from secular us
our body's not right, we need a night at Procrustes'
Enlightment sucks, you can trust us on that
all we got from it was this bitch on our back
a compulsion to tell everybody the truth
about being too grave in our nightmare of youth
we've seen the worst and we've seen the best
from us at least, and we still can't rest
What keeps us awake? Well how do you sleep
knowing that this is all the time that you'll keep?
we don't have any illusion so we try to make art
and if octopus wants this, we'll do our small part.

Tradition!

From mists of lost history we feel only shots
impressions of times we've entirely forgot
ancient books and old lore serve only it seems
to keep us locked down, without any means
'portunity ain't knockin, them's just our knees
there aren't any gods or minotaurs on Earth
and if there were they would have little worth
save as curios, knick-knacks, and exhibits
a sideshow freak lineup ready for the gibbet

Antagonist

If we were antagonist
we'd smash the hero with our fists
we'd ransom princes
and steal big things
with frosted denim underlings
they might call us Doctor Hell
but only time will really tell
which immortal hand or eye
will be there waiting when we die
we do espy with our glum eyes
our sister, Death, and all her flies
buzzing they surround our face
and blind us to her pale wan grace
eschatology is wine
for weaklings who trust things divine
we're none of these, a simple fool
a mortal thing sits on a stool
two legs two arms a body too
there nothing more to we or you
acceptance of that fact is growth
without it people die in sloth
unrealized and blind to Ur:
the holiness of this green Earth

Barnacles

We are but mere barnacles on Ur's great big hull
parasites and detritus — nothing at all
this reptilian starcruiser has a big tail to wag
and autotomic techniques to lessen the drag
so treat her with honor, her needs do not scoff
or Ur and her crew will scrape us right off

Dys

this for I a takes our mind
enlarges it, draws hateful lines
between what we are and what we're in
if we were snake we'd shed our skin
if we were knife we'd rust to dull
we'd stab ourself into our skull
we'd pray if we believed in gods
instead we'll simply curse the odds

Hospitalized — Haiku

hospitalized life
soothing electronic sounds
and doors slamming closed

Landing — Tanka

airplane insurance
a clean well-lighted runway
mile long lines of lights
after city glow recedes
debark into hot new smells

Orgy at Altitude

Cactus Bergman on New Year's Eve
hosted an orgy at altitude
when he rode a mining cart downhill
it went right off the rails, dude!

In Our Way

Never forget that you got in our way
when we were only a kid
busing our ass to school every day
until we no longer did
a transitional life is all we were left
when you pulled that from under our feet
now you're in charge and we voted for you
some reparations sure would be neat

Samarkand

In Samarkand we took the tour
(Most foreign expats demand much more)
beneath the ruins the town revolves
from Khanate times barely evolved
They laugh "Why change when the tea is hot?"
we reply a samovar's no simple pot.

Fantasy Wading

Our güzelsin geyiğim and our dissolute self
our four feet planted on a continental shelf
us together wading knee deep in the sea
We'll be having you and you'll be having?

1+Other

before the walk a coffin nail
one puff and back behind the veil
she girds her loins and chastises herself
this man may be mad but he'll keep her in health

Existence

puncture the membrane of light's borders
and enter the material world
slowed to a crawl, curled in a ball,
in order to gain speed we must get small
vertigo strikes meat and bones burn like ice
and it never sleeps at night
dodging meteors at every turn whirling only to learn
nothing is novel or fresh
nobody chooses to live anymore
yet they remain dissatisfied by the goods at the store
sellouts and poseurs and mature adult beings
following Bibles and D.I.Y. recipes
speak comforting phrases familiar ones
only a Hallmark description of all that is holy

Teeter-Totter

two children play across the street
    beneath a high hot sun
ourself we are forever torn
    betwixt brief joys or none
we feed the cats and water plants
    and pull up endless weeds
while children play the sun bears down
    and we see to our needs

Our Hero

Wrought iron twisted security the thick starry glass door rings
we walk in his comforting fug of sweat and mountain chaff
holding hands at counter tall he orders the cheapest stuff
a hero sandwich with chiles and meats is how dad showed us love

Kudzu Potatopaw

Sharkey Kudzu Potatopaw
that dog obeyed not a single law
he'd run the beach til his paws were raw
snapping at spume tongue lolling from jaws
his coat looked just like a canine jackdaw's
he'd nip you sharply and then withdraw
We'll miss you Kudzu Potatopaw

Change

counting up from one
in iterations the wheel is spun
each resting place a click of wood
and wholly rearrange
to turn this ship around we spin
and this is how things change

Assets

a city's soul is concrete and steel
a forest's is in the earth
we choose to dwell in arid sea
among desert beasts and birds
thinner air and colder meals
here we can see what all's worth

Grain Alcohol, or Fortified Whine

it takes it all and still needs more
the town reduced to ruin
every soul a walking corpse
down at the liquor store

Rocklicker's Delight

searching for minerals in the sand
a rocklicker's delight this canyon
her hammer jauntily rings and *crack*
reveals an intimate personal geology
lines of white carbonate in an intricate web
map to a history of heat, pressure, liquid change
which her crystal memory retains

Junkie

The blue light keeps you up at night
and the days crash together like a derailment
the train comes by bringing dust from the mine
and when sleep sneaks up and tries to relieve you
you stim yourself awake again with memories of pain
over and over again

This Tree

everyone lives in this tree
she contains all infinities and colonies
all life descends from her branches and leaves
even the land and the air and the rivers and seas
hurtling toward eternity
she tangles her flowers at entropy

Ghosts

 

Owl rides glowing-under-blacklight wings
weasel hunts with chaos and claw
owl glides to roost in a blue fir
a crow assault would be natural law
but just ghosts are here, no creature of Ur
memories dried up and lost to dust
no murder will come when we caw
no trees remain, just stumps and rust
only the remains of once-precious things

Analog

lives like she reads the fucking manual and by rule 34
a digital decision tree designed by scrofulous misogyny
a safe perch to watch from, sure, but we require more
existence is suitable but life is what we're here for

Another Statistic

If every day we accumulated a kilogram
    twice the mass of the largest mammal who ever lived
    is what we'd                                       be.
    That sounds a lot like                     certainty
    or the gravitas of                              absurdity
    tautological                                       recursivity
    or a victim of                                    philosophy

Wallet

Lost a wallet in Lake Union once
or was it Lake Washington, we're sometimes a dunce
urban geography was taught us haphazardly
by a father who was aware of the eugenical reality
Redlining sucks for everybody
and at the end of the day, nobody's free

Modern Woke-Ass Liberal

We are the very model of a modern Woke-ass Liberal
We've knowledge of things feminist and communist and critical
We see your Patriarchy and consider it but liminal
an unnecessary evil step to get rid of all the criminals!

Kitch 2

Holy spider fat and large
from behind the sink, you're in charge
your web as big as a plate of wings
all full of flies, our offerings!
Go get em Kitch, and liquefy
the innards of delicious flies!

Autumn

morning fog is revealed in the grey dawn
   long grass twinkles white
like brand new hacksaw blades
   frost on the pumpkins makes them slick
   autumn in a valley

Vampires

Breaking hearts and bleeding tears
prematurely ages by years
hastens the welcoming approach
of Sister Death, who we love the most!
So go love wanton and go love free
the vampires are getting thirsty!

Fog

Here she comes over the bay
now it seems every other day
it seems this cloud will never cease
until it blots everything
especially —
smudge a line of smoke in the air
purify and erase the corpse
the fog will smother the soul

Furniture

alone in a fog and wandering
we bump into shadows which never resolve
bash our toes and knees and elbows
on all the furniture of our world

Empire

Stewing in their decadent juice
be-diapered and entertained: of no use
cradle to grave caged by the wings of Mother Goose
all convinced that they are free, wild, and loose
and we'd hate to be the bearer of bad news