Friday, February 22, 2013

preparing to speak

it wouldn't hurt to
let the cumulous
fill your sealed skin.
in fact, accumulation
is one of my favorite thoughts.
a cruelty barn holds
innocent chickens
and baby lambs
with venom tears.
i don't wanna wear gloves anymore.

Thursday, February 14, 2013

two new poem fodders for the rachdar collabo

food money

you can’t have that
i’m picking up bags of
waste product salted
i don’t put a ton of limits
on what i will buy to eat
like sometimes i buy
really too expensive fruit.
i’m buying antiques
because i want to make
blood gush in the loins
i want to stand
on a frank frazetta pile
of dead little debbie cakes
with a money­burning torch raised 
and a shirtless male poet clutching my leg.

i want a hug

want a pretty specific hug
i tantrum about it
milky hotness and honey blessings poured into my colon are the only cure
for my rabid flashplans
to eat the world and shit the world in silence 

Wednesday, February 13, 2013


i could really use a year of free movies
there are people in the street
making noises with their throats
like a siren or it is a siren
and either way i think it means
some rod has finally snapped
and i won't go to work tomorrow,
i'll start the work of becoming
a target for forces who want to
ride the power vaccum to the canopy.
why do i fantasize about collapse?
i don't think it is romantic, i think
it is terrifying and easy to die
inside of collapsed times.  'time of the wolf'
among others. 'the last night'.
the french revolution. other revolutions.
movies about acute bustedness
of a civilization are my school
for what it looks like
for the schemers to rise and what's easy
is i think that i would rather die.

Tuesday, February 12, 2013


murder sounds fun 
to the untrained dog
children write on it
with dampened chalk
because i told them
a war is on

i'm waiting for an
alien to blurt from my body

i'm watching a mouth
getting hammered by fear

i used to think about 
inventing something new 
that everyone would want to buy

remove our traces
by taking bullets back
like a hatchet

what should meeting mean
in this age

it would take hours to
cook rice in my mouth
and i'd need to be lit

i'm thinking 
how easy to starve on a farm

a revolt will fail in twenty years

nobody has to lay in the swamp
this time
i don't know that for sure

if i am in the swamp and you have a choice
don't lay next to me

a dog looks like a horse
when it runs chalked
over the blown back range

from each dormitory room
where families live
escapes a chest swelling breath

to find a swamp
i'd have to walk in a direction i don't know

Sunday, February 10, 2013


an honest rock
is sitting next to some trees
after working for
a bizzare length of time
with the help of ice.
hardness is an absolute limit.
which is why the hush
as i smother my want 
to move toward you simply
for a moment of comfort
is also absolute.
grass is always dying,
i've only lived in one place
and the grass dies constantly
but my brain made a video of 
time lapsing
and my eyes are useless against it.