geese nonlinear

speaking in stereo the water and sky

fulfilled the landscape with snow

vanquishing the terrain with softened distinctions,

serving to accentuate other features, the dalles mountain,

hill curves the threshold of eternity

socks worn all the time

eat chocolate& stare out windows

because we dwell in no end of luxury

play in the snow with gaspowered toys, boards

lashed to torsos, geese nonlinear

travel east waving, in tandem of riverfront trail

where kids go googling googling google-link

building facilities

dump trucks shuttle soil& rock at a superpace

their metal shed palace nears completion

as coots float the columbia and wind blows

first season's ice ain't too bad this season

we probe the sandy beach

see a barge cruise by tug-pushed, working

being of use

the snow isn't sticking

yet later the layers are transcendent as ocean all enduring

side by side

within reach

fission for monsters

the monster is neon tetra and noun appreciative

as to advances of slash edit redact

upon heap where limbs burn as they should with subsidized diesel

from noggin' casings too fraught with freight,

finger placings somehow always late on fretted brows

making jazzy out of temperamental pain

-tings that kid'n gardeners call art

spelling the seeds with hexes, making secession suck cesspool

not because ore wants to be gone

but because the filling station is never serf serve

round here the monster is square

looking you in both ayes, your conditional and overly mouthed assent

that rulers take the measure of how to angle their castings

so that theater not be stymied by worm riots

under expensive poultices on insubstantial solstices where lots of blood

always was spilled on formica

to cover the reflection's power to turn one to stone

no one will read the tooth

no two may lie under lain paths without a leash on life that wraps the cosmos

about the balls with dialectic precision

enhanced with monstrous marketing making seemly virtues palatable

for the fangfaced denizens and their burpy cuspids with arrows

prowling for jarhackers and carmackers and tarpackers, leaving

the crosses of home in the guttural safety of sheafdom

where cowardice rolls no dice for flee

up the heel a flock of geesebump

s hamstring Achilles and turn hamlet to liquid quitter

frozen in tracks of tourment

a thousand darts with suckercups on the fake fur forehead

a joke in the headlights with punchlines over the collared nape

a monster less ready to eat

than to poke with a teen foot pole that is melting the polar swears habitat

bye bye making swimmers of the fiercest as a yard of ice

looks good when hunted by bad dreams

in the full moon shuttering of eyelids

too indebted to ply evermore

planting everywhere in everyone

aeration begins between the teeth

of dream and our breath folding the thick batter

following umbilical strands into the sun

an old child hunab ku

simultaneousness

a story in a blanket on the sand

skin and pottery of song voices

work wavering waters

tones crisply muted to bond with sense

forms of backdrops against void's presence

richly plowed chaos somehow yields

the seed rich in-formation

planting everywhere

in everyone

swale canyon, washington 1997

one foot out the door

deer crow coyote snowmelt waterfalls

gentle swoop of electrical lines

over the valley

formed by the klickitat river

i be lichen them mosses too

pine fir oak one uninhabited barn

of potential, a porch overlooking

mountain adams,

so numerous the rich trails

silent fires above our head

***

here in portland at 4222 glisan

the empty beercans

pile into pyramids

music happens too,

liberty jones is sing singing

for a squeeze

uh

the tequila limelight

portland-klickitat 1995

avid

my friend broke a string
during a furious set of music

and managed to change it
while the blood flowed thru his skull

in such dexterity and facility i were amazed
and still was.

and still, was.

world war sheep

we pull the wool over our eyes, W. W.

the wool pulls our eyes over our ayes, W. W.

W.W. spools the school over our sighs, aye aye.

W.W. schools the wool. i eye.

joinery

nothing in common. not brands of soap, nor church affiliation,
not genetics, nor heaven forbid, the roadmap used

to find the way home. they don't have homes; not Common
homes. their hearths are made of gold, ours: of crap.

their food is different, their speech on another plane, their
mice are docile and don't carry diseases: they sing.

nothing in common. born with eight hands for the taking,
six mouths to be fed while the others wield swords, of gold,

they shed not blood when vanguished, but a sap-like goo that's good on pancakes.
their children are all smiles their soups never burn

they are so unlike us, we have nothing in common.
they pimp us and we pimp ourselves: big difference.

nothing in common, nothing in common. i wonder why we only have
a couple thousand nothings on our side?

the less common, the more crowded nothing seems.

going dutch

the longbook of your body
has published a new windmill to

lash the tendons of country breezes
circulating across our skin

as we share a bed& sort of
ecosystem of dreampeaces

only broken by relevant longings
which top the spillways

to join us side by side in blustery winds
of harmony, sunlight

digressing in octaves
in our whirling soul scooping limbs



swale canyon, washington 1997

the great thaw

when'll she crest
take rest
flunk flood's test
quit being a pest to us critters

gotta hike to the shitter
rain or snow
when'll she cease to grow i dunno

but the pipes have thawed
i'm overawed
as the dishes cleanse
at the blush of a trickle



swale canyon, klickitat washington, 1996

heroic to ignore

mazda clan transportation unit
no make it up to haleakala crater, so back

down thru the cloudroof
past downhill biketour hang-gliders

perched to coast when stop
suddenly happens

amidst sunday droves lapping
at sun commodity it in turn taking a lap

around the parking area bejeweled
with beachglass, left from

years of guzzling apes, swirled
and pounded against tidepool's womb

they hit the shore much
as newborn turtles scuttling to avoid

gull swoop, or stagnant comforts of
hometown momentumlessness

insulated buzz cycles obviously
heroic to ignore



maui 1993

wobbly in the spin

with strength bent by watered sunlight
the heaviness lakes leave.

in their stead, remains persuade.
integral harmonies extrapolate upon immediate patterns

corresponding with spanish guitar.
ocean eats land to lose itself by winning over the opposition

bedrock. win over the cosmic bang while yer at it!
time molds and decays seasoned edges ripe

for return; slime begins soil of heaven's design.
plants emanate from the banks,

animals in their secret realms unharried by humans
create bluefoot prints, writing starry oaths

within each tread. a bath in heated stone
traced to the mantle of the magma opus

central to the spin




the dalles, 2006

mineral men

i feel like a sack of shit slung to plug a levee
(emotions ain't real but they sure are heavy)
boil us down to carbon zinc iron copper
world market rates dollar eighty scooped from a hopper

in a warehouse built of fractals by god
illusions determine our form of sod
unplowed due to steep rocky terrain
fortify with obstacles the living brain

make thyself undigestible, monkey wrench
the stench associated with the bench
marks proving where turds skidded logs to float
milljobs to japan in islandsized boats

count yer blessings by the ounce and the gram
mineral vegetable mre spam


the dalles, spring 2006

a clean break of it

love sappy cello sonata erupts
thru briar redtape confetti prenups
to carpet the aisles where once we kissed
with wildmint moonlight threading the mists

sky lined with airplanes arriving to land
'tween mountains, rivers, oceans of sand
yer trailer above the city below
(whitecollar roses pruned in a row)

off to my land you fled ole' artschool
ditching one skin, bask naked creek pools,
kindle the flames 'neath the tub in awhile
not done being dirty, not by a mile


washing the diapers by hand in the sun
with taters a'cookin' and tesla a'run

carlos carlos carlos

if you have to tell me, william,
bring a sharp bow

and a boingy arrow, william,
armed with what you have, to tell me,

william, for i have balanced thine
eye on my mind, william,

pray tell, aim, william on me
not thyself, tell truth to no god

but the target, william, if you have
truth, william, shoot it

true and miss your worser self
or i send bill.

the bill.

saving face book, dogearred style (2008)

you don't play with legends *, you get fucked by them. 

the map extreme is in braille, made of creation.

not only does the path cut both ways, it
dissects up and down until sleep

 is a token under the urinal too precious to deny.

such are the footsteps away from a warm bed 

when mind squanders itself on thinking.

at least i have facebook, and a bunch of dogearred friends 

 from former
loud volumes 

they lull and mesmerize in a sort of ballyhoo way.

don't look at the ledge of your reddened embankment! 

look at posted pasts made anew. no problem! twister is my fav bored game!

i jest in my sequestered leisure of four twenty a.m. 

trying to unfold the thing while driving is madness. trying to be funny about

getting lost is sad. finding a gas station 

 that has just been
struck by impotent lightning  

is my station in the night, where hopper paints

with his emaciated fingers of money. 

 instead of being productive, 

allow substances to imitate life i say. this will lead to poetry.

i realized that i was trapped into a material mindset 

when i first decided to be a parent. you gotta feed the squirt or it will be an unsquirt!

playing ketchup is no good for a roadmap to sustainability. 

not even with a bib the size of texas gerrymandered into alaska.

sure, life is a trail of tears. and missyoutissues at five cents a pop. 

stores of convenience will assuage your human needs, and wipe off the

blurts. out of myth we devolve into substrata of living. 

messes are edited not by the fender but by the asphalt layers behind one.

my exhaust is rapid and non pernicious, you may agree on schedule. 

instead of eating biodiesel that smells like frenchfries:

try tasking freedom.
task it until it dies of life. 

 

*the wording on a map or diagram explaining the symbols used.

schmaltz waltz

the love and the sadness did a dance tonight
there weren't no music didn't break out in fights

thoughts most precious, cast before swine
logged by foes, rest by a pint of white whine

why o why are our heads so thick?
with guts of feelings spanglin' the dick?

why o why is my folks so dumb?
sweetsour intricacies of coming undone.

                           **
my friends are perfect i think that they know
the world is pure butter 2% yellow snow

my heartache is contagious and mostly benign
just suture my memory on some dotted line

a guy stabs his heart in writing a song
to find the mercy of wanderin' on

what in the guts make a tidal pool
with crabs and jellies tangled kites in word spools

the sadness and the loved duked it out all night
there ain't no grammar in the language of slights

chimera avenue

i do on the other hand respect the meat-n-taters mountains,
ocean stirrings of infinity, creek trickle hollers
to the mantis

desert chimeras emerge
from sandstone
to show forgetless images that have etched
walrus hearts out of walnuts,

turned tramps to amps of power
keeping the whitehose afire
with the same yougurt ghandi ate
with the same crackers jesus snipped off his fingertips
with the same smarmy dips with rapid presponse

eyes go blare about the perm/rim/meter,
stare into my shadows in detour
toward least music's actualization in resonated physical strings

touched in and of space: really,
touched, in, and of, space