Mortal

My line is finished
Fallen into the blue storms that wither against
The infinite sphere of God's great Plaything

I can see the stepping stones that twist and fade behind me
Skulls of my mothers that dot the ground, whistling embers of a spent fire

Another is out there, a looming wraith of ticking atoms and useless emotion
Dissipating as she wrings her hands

If not for the tightly woven sinews of helpless genes or blind experience
I would happily embrace her
To the sound of sleeping planets
And falling trees

Weights

It's been too long...

Nagging Thing
Of dust and lace
Keeps you rooted
In your place

Wear a trembling
Red-rim grin
Waste without,
Scab within

Feast your eyes,
A hollow doll
Catch it quick
Before it falls

Never wrong to
Dance on skin
Swing and sway
To Monkey's din

Americo...

...God of Propaganda


Heartbeats of mercury
Footsteps of ash
He lies through his teeth,
But his smile shows class

His voice may be thunder,
But his stride is slack;
Twixt godlike thighs,
A hippie-born rash

Behind the hamburger,
the flag and the lash,
The boot of opinion
Lodged deep in his ass

Yah...

...God of God

Death to the burning,
And all those that languor;
Death to all friends,
Family, and strangers

Cling to their robes,
The fruits of your labor;
Hiding your face
Won't banish the danger


Take it from God;
Your minds are your cages
Keeping you cool
While the lifestorm rages

Eating their words,
Shit of the sages
Won't ever soothe
The Crotch Rot of Ages

Eee...

...Goddess of Youth


Rise from refuse
Shake the sleep
Wipe the crust
From eyes set deep

Purr beneath
My bony hands
Shattered teeth
Saliva glands

Host of hours
Westward bound
Lingers late
Beneath ground

Love its heat
Through ancient scars
Sleep as embers
Under stars

Don't You Fret!

Wash our clothes
In the kitchen sink
If any's left
It's just red ink

If they saw her
Never fear
Most are sure
We're raging queers

If she stinks
We'll crank the fan
Stow her deep
In desert sand

Drive through pitch
As Vegas snores
Don't you fret
She's just a whore

Day Showers

Sprawling over dawning stars
Rolling clouds that have your form
Watch the rain pour out your limbs
Green lands swell beneath your storm
Watch the cycle, day to night
Listen as cicadas swarm
Clouds are still, shriveled dry
Evening trickle is no more

***

I need a date.

Corp

Raise my feet, bring them down
Ram rooftops into the ground
Old worlds' blood upon my lips
Black gems gleam upon my crown

Spread my arms and crack the sky
Clamor of six billion cries
Float as gems, a new abyss
In blister-laden clouds I fly

Viscous seas of starlit milk
Empty kingdoms choked with silt
Crown drifts soft through silent storms
Naked scalp is left to wilt

New star pulls me to its fringe
Wrap my arms around my shins
Close my eyes against the Vast
Sleep until new life begins

***


Fuck oil.

Cupcakes

Please, take a cupcake;
They're free and they're sweet.
The icing will knock you
Right off your feet.

Tastes quite unfriendly,
Though surely, it's sweet -
Something like swallowing
Undercooked meat!

I fear for my mood -
T'was never this sweet!
I fear for my health -
My brain's sprung a leak!

Fear not for your mood;
Won't always be sweet -
Ask every hour
Deprived of its sleep.

Fear not for your health;
Knowledge sweet -
Worth every drop
Of youth you secrete.


***


Watch Strangers With Candy.
It's one of the Best Shows Ever.
Those few unfortunate souls who don't enjoy it
just
don't
get it.
Therefore, they are to be considered lame,
and very much pitied.

Through the Wall

Hear the bison as they fall
Tumbling hooves heard through the wall
Pride in every muffled blow
Mangled heap is red and raw

Hear the silence as they thaw
Ecstasy heard through the wall
Air is wet, morning dim
Laughter lost within the maw

(If the neighbors are going to insist on shouting matches during the wee hours of the morning,
the very least they can do is not be so fucking happy the next day.
Or ever.)

Empty Man

When the day’s long hours
Fall to ruin, fall to ash,
And the sky spits purple
‘Cross the night so vast,

A light can be seen
On the ridge above the hills;
Thin and empty, rusting,
Tall and dark and still

The sun never touches
Where his wild garden grows
He's there, amidst the riddles
Of a stranger's healthy glow

Climb the crags until you strike
The summit, where he waits.
He’ll hold you close, hold you down;
He smells of dust, of fate

The heart crashes softly;
Within his mouth, it shines
The sky becomes a void,
And loneliness divine

They’ll find you there, frozen stiff,
Forgotten and alone.
They’ll stow the husk beneath the earth
While women weep and moan.

Yet when the twilight blooms again
And grief has had its fill,
They’ll see your light, burning bright,
On the ridge above the hills.

Modification

Though my opinion
May earn me a kick,
Personally,
It makes me quite sick.
Is it a woman
Who once had a prick?
Nope, just a man
With a mutilated dick.

Ants

Trying month.
Better now.