OpTune

O

Then back and down

Tin roof drum down

Sin down

Keep

Flightless Flock Release Party

We were fast then

EXCERPTS

I HAD THIS WHEN I WAS IN HIGH SCHOOL



The rumbler comes down and sucks our bones
That flesh tube was too crowded
The next one may be more frantic

Blustery salted mountain
Broken toes getting to work over
Shadows river but up here
Where no babies can slip through the tracks

My legs feel like the train cars going past
Kicking out of control yet moving and moving
Cannot stop because I am this far out
And it will be winter for a while
It is the birds
The cold bums raising their bottles to the one love
That got away

Actually she is still going
Walking on by

I can feel the eyes peeling back
Splitting personalities to the point of midnight
Howls and dawn brings a racing heart
A dream cracked open before
The finale
Dreams oh baby
Oh sweet lips and thighs of glory

In dusk love the thought of you keeps me up
Up with the window in December
The room is a closure of bats and shadows of my visions
Making sight of ghosts while getting real

Pursuing a grand feeling
Sensory hands with deep-sea pressure
My hustle for you
Through the thorn forest of time
The blossom of beauty

The thrust and turbo-ignite
Take hold
Grasping the claws out of my mouth


Wild birds staying away up in the hills
Bursting off from the flock in December
Where I wandered this morning in my apartment
Checking out the spilled honey

Where have all the ants gone
Vacation from the frozen hill
To the bones of the forest to the
Foam and Flesh of the sea

West
East
South
Open arms to enrapture your heart like hold
A few grasp of stones
Sand and mud
My crushing flower

SOMETIMES SUNBURN

IS THIS WATER PROOF


If I were a lobster at the bottom of the sea
Playing with your claws
Doing adult lobster things to you

There is a trap over there
I am asking you to get in it with me

You and me lobster claws
Getting in the trap
We will see another world
Hot-hot-hot

Come into the cage
Come into the cage
Come into the cage

W K F I L Y

Fly Boot Kick Kiss

I Y O

When it is ninty-seven degrees outside think of lemonade

Broken Batteries

Full blown pockets
Ravishing torrents of racking morns and
Cool eves

The mad dash by the house cat
Then smoothly and slowing once outside
Not back to the axle
Not back to the stink of to much outdoors

All much

POT

MANHATTAN RIDING ATOP HER HEAD



Abyss horizon and when my horizon is skyscrapers
Dream-day is this glorious aftermath of
Shattered glass and egg yolks across the
Busy ever-busy walk

I Took time off of work at the Boot and Shoe store
Out of Fathattan to twist around the forest
The girl in red
The wonderful cliché’
Of a twist and sprout
Darling-smear and twist that soft glorification

The Edge of New York
Sunsets and the slender

BUG SILENCE

RADIO WAVES



Set the island of bones up to the Indians cloud
On a bed of eagles wings
Resting in peace in the tigers jaw

Close up to the roar
Going limp
From dancing on the banks of the abyss

Every next choice
I will meet you on the platform
Collar up with hands jammed
Ghosts coming up from the pelvic

I wait






THIS TO THE ABYSS


When the sea falls onto the earth
From the sky
Or from the horizon
Miles of calm flat smooth tenderly
Flesh of the abyss

To where we know nothing
But to listen
To hear the rising of your eyes
To hear the splendid sight of a blasted fuzz space

I can feel the heart of another
One of those other towns
With main street vessels and lighthouses
Coasted rock with jagged tooth marks on
Thighs and split lips in the frigid cold

Obsessed with struggles
Then when a smile or even the most remote
Instance of feeling
Act upon it with space noise
The kind that make the sun sound loud

Yet with a vision of blasting out atmosphere
Just to hear how loud it is outside the helmet
A rotted vegetable that is sinking right back into the wormhole
With that vision I get the other side of substance by
A lighting blast of a cemetery on fire

Feeling it to the bone
Ever been thrown down maybe a mouth
Full of water
Till choke and throttle
As one we conquer ourselves

Three Poems

MOTORCYCLE


Dark deserts with shadow bones
Dancing along

Turning out the shooting stars
One after another and one more
For the blind man
My greatest fate will be describing the
Vibration that comes with a shooting star
Over old best friend beach in Massachusetts

Spinning a big catch of kisses
Twirling out a meteorite that will
Pummel the
Flesh to the melting point













FULLLY CLOTHED IN A FIT


It all turned out like this
Beautiful
Or
Falling over and getting up
Yes oh yes and wake

Women falling over
Spilling their lips
The drinks kept coming
With the turn of the hours
They kept pouring down

Like a shadow in fast motion
As the coming dawn
Saints take to the streets with
Whiskey and sunglasses

They take to the hills
The rise of morning and my blood
Is murk








WEIRD EAR

I heard something weird in my ear
So I leaned harder into it
Into the soup of your whisper

Written in the Clouds

SPOILED ROTTEN

CAT-CITY

TILL NEXT TIME

FH

Time Computer

Hands on Deck

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