one for august

Sincere disgust
the cat with red eyes prancing through
the dust
up the stairs a spiral of tails
a figure eight of dirty hairs each one  a gem
imagine

a row of rails from one ocean clear blue to
clear accross the continent of insanity and into
another ocean
space lapping at the brown sand

trunks with no branches hanging on to air
drifting with nets and news papers written for wrecks

we invite these models of the future
into our lives of the past, a sea for shining sea
a boot with polish that is one-size fits all
it has absentee ballots for tongues and coarse
cesear salad for inserts for walking for nourishing the nervous
systemology, a profile in the sideshow of the back lit alleys
where religious pigeons line up at a puddle, muddy fuddy duddy
landing flying roosting bathing tasting
trying out the puddle
a puddle put there by the boot, the sole of which is made from
a thousand hand picked fruits, fruit de mer, froo-froo dogs on
so so chairs

MOOSE IN LAND

ugly mountain tops with cracked
rock stalks the moose, the mother moose,
hoofs kicking toes wide with mud
stuck in their fir tree roamings eating heap everything.

and I make eye contact
to flight the moose steps forward. 

american exceptionally

except an ally
expect an alliby
a libya dubya stubya toe joe schmo ho-ho defence
twinkie pretence, murderous mathematic attraction to the end of japan
exempt and all,
the sons of god that live and toil
a freezer of frost and florida golfs tar balls in the gulf
tons of people standing on their toes peeking
 over gun barrels stood long in a row while all the wests indians
cut arrowhead eyes , and keep on shuffling around their craps table lives,
the screws that be, interrupt on the game,
they say and they say the same things again
and no one listens cause there aint no use,
they forget how to interpret the same old abuse

so the subprime court comes and shut up the door , sitting in comfy
chairs listning to war pour arguments of no sentence structure grammer
primary school playground banter,
 full of no you didnt, yes you did, you did so, I did not!

getting tired of this, they opt to work quick, get out the pen
and pour out the ink
go to the closet and fetch the old documents the bill of (w)rights
makes its first flight, in kitty hawk georgia or ohio pa,
they open the words to ammend the first ammendment first
 next comes the second or a hot lead segment a bugle call sending out for
a regiment of ordinary confederate headed to the town
they gonna trudge with shovels over hill and trouble to take old glory down
and after the singing, the green beer drinking, its all about a re-write of story
 of how the waste was slung, a mad motto,
a true desperado in socks, everylast one of us
and the third says NO! no you aint , you stay on outside in the frozen ditch
you stay maybe hitched to congress though,
so filfthy rich, fifty two states couldnt even wish
they have their own rules cause the unions suits its fancy fancy cheats,
playing ball with nine inch cleats

listen in close,
the fourth is a lie, or intended as more but it died on its way out
the door, (seconds any one?) slammed shut and the
the fourth casualty of scores more
a fifth dint show out of self respect and ever since then has been swept
up under the armpit, where the decrepit and meek wait to inherit the streets
while the sixth went up and said
in the judgy's ears not trying to conceal the fear

to be continued
to be continued
to be continued
to be continued
to be continued
to be continued
to be continued
to be continued
to be continued
to be continued
to be continued
 

unkle sam

hey uncle !
go eat a sandwich
fill it with old mcdonald ronald red shoe
pick it up offa missippy bottom

go home. get lost .  get a horse and ride out into the sun

London is ....

London is a muddy river
its denizens wiith moneyed blood
sit on their fanny licking hammy
sandwiches which stand hands runny

London is a place where old ideas
come to live
and new ideas are loath to go and wish they never did.

you see , the apple of that television
is a blue and red and white incision
a method of tamed dead vultures,
 in a land without any culture

Its London
Its London

Is London
bridges falling down,
no they aint but the people frown
cause THEY know that they are boring and have to get one with snoring
the buddhas of the white man sit on a crown of
crooked sharp sandpaper stories, confused looking around

Get off the flat
Get off the lift
Forget allllll about the crowd

the olympics is holding you down

heat attack

it rained last night and broke
the fulcrum, the sun was happening on

but in the pivot, in the point
the friction of a stillness is pressing in
present measurements reset the heavens
filtered shuttle launches oxygen hogs the hydrogen
boilt water spilt swelter under a pelt of feather
edge over grover
cleveland is drying out! and pittsburgh is mud flat!

fat people sloop a little more
their belts withstanding hour by counterpoise
heels turned to ballet flats task the bones the knees jarring back, creased

take me to the water

lets get legged
frogs do it in due time
turtles are still on it a million years later

in and out in and out in and out
wet and cold and wet and hot and wet and dry and
wet and satisfied with being in the water
up to the eyeballs in water
a house of water
a horroscope of water come crashing in
when we jump and splash and foam at the mouth

sensitivity

the rings on your fingers the lines on your hands
feel the table beneath your arms, its wooden lattice
wrinkled granite outcrops in miniature
flickering light through leafs of mica glass books shattered
on the moss carpet for your feet to crunch
and puncture on , pain and abbreviation of awareness
levels, dosages, amounts, quantity, figures, framework,
bitter hickory bark, hard acorn pathways, asphalt american byways,
clackety clack crow beaks breaking free from the black
turning into a rainbow and back again into not any colour,
the tell tale void of gastropod eyes polka dot dow-jones-industrial
averaged over and over and over

ten tricks

wire spiders
steel hearers
magic machine runs
even beethoven thrown down

it was like the liberty bell back from the dead
old hands clapping for new ladders to climb
 

sinter in america

blades drawn from concrete dust
and old moss overpasses
stab at a night as lit as a dollar store after
all the people went home with perforations in their souls
feet walking and wanting some place to go

and they know
and they know its splinters of america

and aint nobody frightened cause
everybody knows no use trying