the rotten mane (2017)

  

earth nameless stumbles into human form,  

  a suit derides in mealy pleats;

the phaeton drops them at the curb,

his cape over his klannish sheets;

dim don treads, alligator shoe-horned,

  toward his minaret of unflinching greed;

composure escapes him, a raped morn,

  liberty lady ravaged need not plead.

the vouch of slime undoes his tongue, 

 all fair and noble creature recoil;

rather air or water to quench his lust,

   don's bearings gurgle Oil.

land promises, evict the rotten mane

of tyrants tirades and more of the same.

12-14-17

Mt Tabor, Oregon

joy leaves fell limbs (2009)

  

joy leaves fell limbs (2009)

which then blew up the fruit truck

packed with pallets of hundreds

--- - a story that Razziq chuckles in recalling

while forming a bread line

U.S. officials: said:

seeded with bomb's progress

on the western outskirts

and in the pomegranate orchards

Suddenly a man (in white robes) 

fell from the branches

of the Argfangdad valley

(his suicide vest)

treacherously absent

hundreds crows of joy leaves

they fired and exploded in the trees.

--- a story that Razziq crackles

in recanting, U.S. officials unofficially said

We obliterated those towns.

They're not there at all.

These are just porking lots right now.

and in the pomegranate orchards

the ground remains seedy with largesse bestowed upon

by US officials in joy leaves

joy leaves joy leaves fell limbs from all branches

in outskirts and kerneled multiplicity

the breaks of impatience red

read in the bread

lines. hundreds of

The witch belles of Bathwater (2017)

  

oracular history need nest in no mystery

just ask the Belles of Batwater;

   like towels wrung from sister seas,

   tales drip from hoodoo alma mater.

fields full of cars and attending tent homes,

riverside dock, the stage;

    yachts intermingle with hobos and gnomes

    our children magnificently crazed

pot luck spreads mimic the Columbia,

dish after dish the best hippy grub ever;

   music sunset chases, if moribund ya

   just go fer coffee& talk witty-clever

   swooping gnat gobbling, night denizens party

   the Witches of Batwater, nocturnal, less warty

    

2017 

light (2017)

  

magma deep ruled by owl's own volcano

forged the cleaver shield in minerva's tiny shell of hand

within her father who subsumed that which

imagination planted as prophecy by heavy water

in his head womb once hammered

sounded in bright birth tones

drumming rivulets of history statues in her wake

down a self sledding syncline

toward the columbia

or nile or danube

or from hydra

at speeds that light admires 

that's his son

  

            was home, the home in Oklahoma 

My father's home, sleeping outdoors on the sly 

Dad wasn't there 

The house was there, surrounded by cedars 

There was some event, art community members gathering 

Walking toward me after i just awakened 

There by a row of tables by the fence 

Where a stacked wall of pioneer stone left over unused by our chimney makers 

Separated the three acres from the highway 

I walked out to greet the visitors 

A bit embarrassed but only surprised 

I didn't see anyone I knew 

But they were familiar 

No one said 

That's his son or offered me a sandwich and coffee 

So I woke up the dream stopped 

I woke up in a bed under a roof on a mattress 

Sheets comforter and a french press cooled down from two hour nap 

Home, home on the range in my browser 

Home lyrics on my mind 

  

He been feeding ole smoky 

With creamer to go, 

Those pull top build up i'm betting you know  

The cat barely move 

He eighteen ages plus 

Haggard but loved the only thing he trust 

Been robbed been cheated 

The girl lean on the mop 

Supposed to be working not riding the clock 

He's done he swears he fires 

But misses, fires but rehires 

Grime hits the recliner  

What next exasperation his driver 

 

They late or stay worthless 

Her guy has the wheels, he drops her off 

Come back for his meals  

It takes nine creamers 

To keep happy the cat 

A mountain of empties well that's that 

The other gal argues 

More and less same, neither one tame 

It not their place straighten up this mess 

 

She wants to go hot tub 

That's not on the tab, her shift leans crooked 

More mean eyed than blab 

They both far too old 

For a boss to let it go, but immature in training 

Think it could snow 

Throw up the arms, steamed under the collar 

It's faithful the let downs 

One tops the other  

We sort thru the shoe box  

For a the phillip heads orphan 

Gotta be here somewhere they reckon 

 

The hours stagger past 

Clean out the freezer, prehistory thaws 

Can i get a draw 

Mein (2011)

  

mein street

consensus forged

behind closed whores

now is that good business practice?

open mein street

the elk decrees liberty

contiguous, contagious

unadulterated and

wholed, hearty and not yet hale

though i lean

toward jeffersonian

anti-slavery hyperbole 

10-18-11 

Portland