Thursday, April 3, 2025

eternal lips 'parently

  

Troubled waters do some healing

First they dunk you by a crusty flannel

Hold you against a muddy current

Drink up snake 

A little cottonmouth champ

Float away that ringing round collar 

Sound better on 8 track 

Settle fer vinyl eternal lips swallow snock

Snark comes back to his stall

Throw on a feedsack and blanket 

Sun's going down thru the ferns

Light a candle do an armchair boogie

Two hundred songs brings 

Moon watch over our pal on turntable 

Frogs here wrote his ode 

Owls deliver it straightface somber 

When swallows return to capistrano

Happiness music brings potluck timbre 

Fiddle mouth trumpet soliloquy  

shhhh worth every 10 dollar gig  

Stole right to sing that hoot 

Just a stone throw away ave's flexible no can doo 

Still got someinit, 

'parently 

 The Time Was Right  















Wednesday, March 26, 2025

big missus #1 #2 include all

 

the bulletproof brandy back next to eyeliner

hoard, the ermine he was determined to wear

to the dog sled race

now only a military parade and ottoman wife

to massage his sore pinkie

a signal papercut with a three ton bandaid

the earful from the oligarchs

shuttles his diplomacy

of locusts to find fresher more three piece suitable

clime, drip drip amoc 

the tanning sled flies gourded by guardless goons

gourdening gweenland

sleep on an an ice bed in ice land easier to spell

one finger typing itinerary

and what I did this week

walked out on thin ice and pogo sticked  

drove an army operation into atlantic

made my mullet point presentation

clubbed baby seals with don junior

stitched them together to walk on exiting 

the tarmac parade 

put that danish in a box the missus take to go

Sunday, March 16, 2025

pineskeep (2018)


Heart pines in ye wooden keep

Caer lined in ogre acorns three tonne each

Blown bout on drafts fire fears

Cold oak slaps iron-melted

Blood steeps nether retracted stairs,

Times cape unravelled

Bye threads of silkwyrm dragons

Nest ridden harpy songs demolish

Iced o'er moat

As crosswyrd puzzles furrough yon

Zero's brow a fathomless prow

Knots dreamed ocean tresses hullbrushed

Rivets star reflecting badges

Witch watched wishwash heaving

Havens no hart fog ventures 




November 18, 2018


Thursday, March 13, 2025

poempeii

 .

Poempeii (1994)

  


music is vibratory revolution


in auditory evolution


but that had little bearing as Poempeii was


immersed in burning retina ash


sealing fame, dogs became statues,


chamberpots became priceless,


boats got offshore fast& sailed dog ass fast


to north stars far from volcanoes


to sell insurance necklaces


&found capatalistic cults


they sent neighbors sons to war


to die of learning


to die of learning


to die unearning the flunk of spear,


arrow, bomb, sanction


howling sounds over took miasmas


of USA dreams waitressing overtook


the priestess smoking


& tv oversnookered us in a sedate slur of neuroses


leading Amnesia to reckon musick as


documentary dissolution


of perpetual persecution 





1994 

Revised 2017

leave it to the professionals (2015)

  

Leave it to the Professionals (2015)

  

comfort squats on the part time worker,

stealing a rest in the desert

where the prickly pear

blooms bewareness as part and parcel of a wary dumping ground

littered with garden party accoutrements,

swimming pools of undrinkable water

and plastic bottles racing past tumbleneeds

toward the boarder's fence

where squatters hold sway while

trying to do number one or number two while avoiding

contact with an adverse terrain

of colosss husks

and burnt out pintos whose rusty comfort

returns his borrowed iron

into the ground by dropping sweat beads

onto a game floor

ruled by umps in loafers

who decree "play ball or blackball"

who scream "suck it up" while siphoning the gasps

of children fleeing "free tirade"

mad in the USA with boss springing the steens mtn. stallions free

In the movie version, in the disney venison,

getting comfortable with the corn eaters

in the black row of ledgers

running red ink

running out of metaphors for loss

running out of ways to screw with impunity

a stripped out threading where parts, partners,

frank steins brimming with bubbly "hey bub"

as the spokes define a hub

in the radial stretch of making it to the next paycheck

that bounces off the book cooker

and lands not on land but on the backs

of flipped turtles in their empire shells

calling the shots

from way off in lard conditioned eateries

making hypertension the medium whereby one presents any opinion

or addresses the gift of slave labor

to a hole knocked into a saguaro with a tiny sharp beak,

in a residential enclave cul de sac

guarded with goiters from incessant desk loitering

an ugly repose from which to respond

to pretty pleas for basic rites such as washing,

drinking, resting, breathing professional air

with unlicensed noses just out of reach

but easy to smack 




2015


countin coup on fingers two (2006)

( September 28, 2006 )

 



countin coup on fingers two

see me at my best, see me at my worst

what's to come if i've a choice will surely be a first


no need repeatin, nor lame retreatin

countin' coup is like gum on a shoe we all take beatin


and stuck underfoot's the trail of tears

of miles that shred and rivers fed of salty grindin gears


that focus gaze upon the grail

rollin earth, sky of peace, and bonds beyond bail


for at my least i'm a cultured beast

upon his story we verily feast


indentured to rhyme for this brief time,

enslaved to form to serve the norm which is a legal crime


even at my peak an even keel and a fairish deal

shall hull this craft beyond repeal


to venture seize, touch the base, plant flags of poems

and hatch the artifice beneath the dome 





spiral harp pooned (2018)

 



No love caresses my trellised lair

Ghost birds old songnests

Wind wrecked valley

Where no love hatches never eggs

By the peck so deep

It chips my firm

-ament. Blue morning growl,

No love found me

Surrounded in her tornado castle

Bricks flying mote by mote

Only a spiral harp of ivory remains 




(2018)