carving pumpkins (1988)

a. this is a poem about writing about poetry,
like a cigarette you think
you're only getting tobacco but yer smoking the paper,
like religion you think you got god
but it's just opinion with trace elements of motive,
but unlike other products this poem
has substance and a vague nature
  Q: does it smell like the wet oils of mondrian?
       does it do descarte's illusory polka?
       does it shrink, cotton-candy in the saliva
           of your mind, or does it explode,
            a dream deferred? does dream smoke
               exist, rene, if all thoughts run dreams
the question is, what are you missing
         art thou a happy green cow?
                         

                         *
                       
b. for you lazy sack of silt readers
this is an aesthetic poem, meaning
it don't address the mystery of the locked nest monster
nor does it issue a fashion statement
nor does it stimulate emotions deeper
than nausea, loneliness, ennui.
          tonight we carved pumpkins

cut around their stems& pulled out
strands of gooey slime
we piled the entrails on paper sacks cut down
the middle& pulled flat
my friends took them into a dark room and that made it
even darker, they glowered like demons
like a proper wedding
like god al made one with a smiley face
&put it in the gutted out torso of an old TV set,
an innocent model from the 1950's

its shadow flickered onto our faces
we thin gin
we sing sin
we die soon, build fleshy prosthesis controls
we remote control kids
we say no, we silly putty cracks,
we are the envy of the world spanish maid,
indian doormat
god on my side get off my cloud
pumpkins in the office, the classrooms

                   *

we used to get our milk from the goldenbergs
when i was little
when family owned little blue an ancient VW bug
we'd go puttering up to their farmhouse
on the south side of town by the public pool
where brother grant and i first played with black kids
they rubbed baby oil on their skin
to slide thru that water
grant and i would wait by the car when momma
went fetching, the front of the hood
tied shut with rope fenders red white and blue
by the farmhouse was a hedge apple tree
that gave us ample ammo for the cows
in the field their udders all saggy
leather clouds
none of them had bells around the neck
none wrote dissertations or baked perfect pies
they perfected Moos
they never tried to jump that moon
Once we saw them deliver a calf next door over at
harvey's barn in the middle of night
by the light of kerosene lanterns we say it
get born and it was swirly
                         like a red beard full of snot
                         like a frozen sun
                         like heart's drain plug 
mom would come back out with gallon jar
of natural milk, tinfoil rubber banded lid,
at home she separated cream off the top
tho invariably a tiny white curd
or two made it past and we'd wish for store-bought
milk, real milk
i'd like to think she told us sorry that's life
but i think she took it and framed it
on the mantled wall, next to a swatted fly stain,
not the thing itself,
its image.



1988 
stillwater Ok

motion stone

will not ice creeping quick advance 
   o'er sedge and swing-sets rusted creak;
hushing one sense, heightens plans of
   towhee, cardinal, flights oblique;

threading crystals, redolent mine glazed
    sun-scab brite, fracked bracken
shed sound skins, minotaur-amazed
   o'er stone gutters, halls forsaken

cedar endowed, limbs snow-ripe resplendent,
   time's beak frost heaves, super-intendent 
geometry schism, theorem incumbent
   all falls in winter's shawl, dependent

   not will's ice lends, melting willingly
   nor motion stone stay, unthrillingly




12-17-17 Mt Tabor Oregon

geminid gypsy

geminid gypsy, gyrates poetically correct

     hurtling pacifist, non passive accoutreMonts,

hurtling stone hors d'oeuvres circumspect

   talisman to mortality, predicament.


geminid gypsy asked to move on, tarried

   hitched up to earth gravity, married

sparking shotgun weddings prince harried,

   sizzling falcon eyed rainbows, parried


geminid twined, bound braid-lashed ingress;

   slamming to wake ocean floor mantle , ditto:

nine layers of possible timewaves egress

   rippling time granite, tsunami whammO


   geminid gypsy camped high on mount tabor

   lifted near crow flight, rare visit-neighbor

forsooth, the narwhale

poetry forsooth floats human harbor's better
   climes, amid dank dredging's sea-baptised
detritus, whittled perspective wood -redders,
   saw quohog & seasoned salts, capsized;

poetry forsooth fleets flounder schools sleeker,
   able to jet unjittered---- thru coral razors
in sentence bubbles ......evasion's art meeker
   as bait glows or feigns, hiding small lasers;

poetry forsooth claws nebulae from the net
   allowing humans to catch what gods only get
rare trappings of mind, as prescient yet
   drapes flesh over horizon, a personal pet;

   poetry forsooth clams all Thing all so deep,
   butter bay washings, my chowder of sleep.



12-15-17
mt tabor Oregon




   

love forged words

drown doldrums in love letters leaves,
bonfires escaped, pack rat unpleased,
tally the kisses promise delivered
savor perfumes paper misted

dwell on the images photo bona fide,
passionate cave art even Time can't hide
ultimate pledges, sweet pain of youth
harmonious contracts, poetry forsooth

floats maelstroms in love letters haunts,
waves enamored, bilge, overfull trypot ,
syrup the hauls of romances long won
far out at sea, in homes silkworm spun

kiss the tangible, her tangy wood skin,
t                   ouch stamps on the letter 
her heart made so thin,

sniff detail, the canter, the lope
                    of souls fixed, 
read touchings in word forged lunatic bliss 

shekinah buttonwood tree

                             

Aeolian lyre of skyscraper tines, sprung of tor
   footings amid clitter clatter fingers of continents
molted, born to simmer short.song lore,
   board meetings atop bard-meat firmaments,

Round table speakers, self aimed amiss,
   none gallant tongued nor fitted for moral success,
Deaf to wind's siren drone twixt cornice hiss
    all remiss in wax-eared process

Dumb, resonant vertically integrated hum,
    greed runs plumb down to their banjo thumbs,
trigger tape parades, stock bell arcades,
   crashing Icarus gets flag pin accolades

  calling wind a liar, her face Truth perspires,
redolent in music but never retired.




Mt Tabor Oregon
12-15-17

fjording (1997)

earth retaliates, 
squirms sentient in planting season
we clear the sleep from 
her eyes
with hoes and rototillers and brush winter
tangles into bonfires

in the process
dished the scrape and bruise
mapped in scar even
as poem coagulates itself

i rip page's silence
fjording mudhardened 
loggingroadruts
on the way to town

pastiche

wetrock pastiche
oak& moss

in the gravitational pull
of creek&
reminder to let go

moment by slippery foothold,
to incleave oneself in the collage
make paste of variety
suiting tastes of graced smells

&floating leafy boats
cruising this ponderous horizon
girdled by islands

tigers in strollers
miniscule necklaces of lichen
plates of love

on fire with garlic

1997 Swale Canyon Washington

bonfire in drizzle (1995)

my sight and scent obscured to coyote
as i shat on plywood shitter
a stubby tailed  thirty feet away
behind a tree
i jumped up as humanly quiet as possible
went peering about-----gone.
ghostlike, leaving me clutching TP,
pants about the ankles

*

i like to crap outside
wipe and walk
versus cash and carry
no flush roar waste

*

intent on bonfire in daylong drizzle
i haul half rotted trunks

&prune boingy pinelimbs
w/an old hatchet
bout to lose his head

*

romance does it this way
to insure seeds
get cracked open

*

hiked further up dry creekbed
thru mossed oakgrowth
&happened upon a tributary, shhhhh
not yet pilfered of carnelian,
agate, petrified woods,
every so often a glowing blood orange eye
looking out from otherwise
drab& earthy collander

*

no date no clock no media
to hamper
sunflow,
only stones
becca and i throw
upon ourselves, each other
upon, forcing meditative explorations
of deer trails
aligned with stellar geometry

*

surreal snugly balanced in
backpack, coffee is straining, ma
out hiking or inside with annetta
quiet         as wind cuts
smoothly o'er rock
bare dripping

astrid undoing

Astrid her marble mind unrolled three moons,
     Revealing a cornice light-lingered;
Oceans bloomed boiling awake,
     Birthing Astrid's columnar granite fingers.

Comet shreds raining, night dazzled arcade,
     Astrid's stride many wakes blazing;
Water wall syncline, harbinger promenade,
     Gasping fire tracers liquefied pacing,

Her pegasus hooves red-snowing, mineral fusions,
     Astrid undid sphere's buttons atoned;
Uprising eternal, core blasted confusions, contusions,
     Answering mountainous, forlorn.  

Bang bigly my mantle, Astrid announcing life,
Heap zillions neath time, make oil your knife.



12-14-17
Mt Tabor Oregon
fresh

the rotten mane

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

roof rivets of mt tabor oregon

                                    *kvetchup on the dumbfone*
kvetching old lady, so sour
in her nest of children dreams on six legged horses
in her web of silk envied by burlap boys
in the pits of the olive mine,
clutching squealing canaries born to sing a blacklung song
opera of nails on blackboards driving
thru with fries and a shake and kvetchup sauce
all over the dumbphone
__________________________
                              *and a partridge in the pun tree*
If the United States ate
482 canadian tacos while skiing
Italy's grottoes of cheese under
181 varieties of exemplary fleece spun from
Ukrainian Argonauts paired in
73 baskets of willow brand aspirin to ease
Romania after her platters of goulash served
70 easily in a sit down row boat from
Portugal where
56 seals made curry with the better side of
France leaning off their tower to pisa's
27 degree tilt off
Egypt in that contest toward
11 zeniths only topped by
Poland and his
10 numbers of viewers today wondering about the
Netherlands and canals circumnavigating
6 seas on the way back from
Morocco on the train #
5 always on time
_____________________________
                                  *jump start blot*
in the autumn sun winter brews life
weaned of woe, tea of yule blots
born on ice formed fire,
fetal remonstrance
coals schout toward the belly buttontree wood
whittled by babes
under ocean minds whale kissed
floating sound bubbles of moon
under her fingernails to take
place of silver splinters
tinsel skinned conveying arrow
stirring the import
of phonochronocraphic zealotry,
in the image of the sun
speck either cooled or dismissed
in layers of cosmic wool
wind dares not bury
over dune's eye
bests
only to help with a jump
                                start.
_____
                                    *dockside radio bust*
tonya harding on the radio well go dig
in the peace dumpster at
the dockside with the ILWU boxing photos
where her goons dumped
evidence in the parking lot
showing her spangled poor sportsmanshit
in full frontal bust
____________
                                          *O poet moon*
what's yer job poet O the whale
whole asked spouting mists of avalon to entrance
witchy way did we swim question-buoys
bobbing like fat fate seal targets
for orca pods snacking on sestinas or shad
enrolled in schools of duh
tasked in casks held in holds wodan odin took to sea
to vet the dragon aquatic
with lance of lightning query tipped godan
prodded hyrdogen from the water
to erupt tectonic
shackles O what's yer blob asked the dog
(told/blot was the answer mirrored"
tolled in traffic trolled by lures
hour Job is the minute listing of secondary and tertiary
anomalies such as that barb
of a symbol
running out to hydra
filly mental gods in fog 6 legged in hot wool sex socks
cupping a D sized germanic milk barrel
O what's mine job said the gold
dust blown from binary star mergers under the sycamore
plane wood knee, whittled down to cart
-ilage with no Ox
no Oxen but a boon of moon blood,
good pathfinder, peat minder.
________________
                               *time flew*
into fog of woods not hacked
but coaxed to enter
in violent peace of feet pushing peat
down across the voice void
asunder blessed
recalcitrant only in mineral
lack of black sun
cleaving yellow night
out of hooves removed
on carpet moss bird speckled
in love ribbons
where they flew
_________________________
                                          *peace mission slurry*
Champlin sailed from New York 11 December 1942
on her first convoy crossing to Casablanca,
here's looking at you kid said the torpedo
from hydra spewing palladium over the radio tower of
wardenclyffe manned by cyborg anti patriots
who were in denial of gambling, gangsters, and
guac stains on the khakis
covered up with gold star families going to the gong show
at anne hutchinson's trial in boston
leading jung Jeffy Champskin to elope with
rode island just in time
to tame the english impulses to throw tea out of the
harbor back onto dutch jamaican cornershops
with sitar, mosque, and free speech
for even quakers facedown in their porridge unbuttered
sailing into port full of dignitaries
leaking from the stern
stamp of fascism
across the 21st
centurions
oil based
miss
-shun
______________________
                                        *awl forgotten *bone**
my illness the witch doctor told me
in her primordial PHd prescriptive tone
was not enough bone,
hence the add on leeches of banks, taxes, priests, and police
there to jack up the torso
for a good poke with a baton of credit, or a rope
of poison ivy, or a basket of adders from king
arthur anderson, stick your illness
in the whole whale
said the sky
under billowing beams dismounted off oak mistakes
called ships, peg and awl forgotten
the sternum of jelly fish droppings not quite stiff
enough lipped to take
the gale ridge clutter of wealth
fully in canter, lope, trot, and founder
signing the nine eleven constitution for a hundred year lease
on the thermite illness
said the plumber
adding more
*bone
_______________________
                                  *sturgeon TV 1973*
maple my radar
willow my hawkeye
sycamore my ratchet
celilo my cuckoo

oak my burns
pine my klinger
ash my nickle son
celilo my nest

mash mash the monster mash
triage my mash up         down
down the narrows smashed
unabashed, wash trash of blunders

war, knee, broken bent bow treaty
mind, plea, token totem drunk fee
hell to helicopter
cradle strapped  teleprompt twerk

cool that's a take
hot we're all fake
sitcom sits over falls over dreary
over salem over rocky and adrian all teary

yo maple why leaving
hey willow why crying
sick of more hatchet
celilo my sturgeon
__________________________
scab magma third eye dancehalla
tor was thor born when thunder roared
up from ground in back time dancehalla
granite deep bloomed in flood
astral bound to wed
along the sure shore of thirst celestial
coaxed of ox eyed distant draws
lifting breath of women gods off wodan spoons
in the morning
being close enough to hatch eggs on ice
comet flung cradles of targegrade heros
choice a moss eaten rune
with my name on
her brow
she will never read for a scab of love
hath rid us of wisdom.
12-8-17
                               Mt Tabor Volcano Cone Picnic Area for Ravens
" a seismic pattern that resembled a hoof print, or "a cow track in the mud".
_________________
                                       *dire Hell direct Ion*
Hell her iron desk a lathe to crown toothpicks
out of redwood kings and cedar queens was raven tested
by dreamy dismal day over bog venom steeped
in intimate shells
wave maiden loin girdled
the trunks brought up off ocean canyons asteroid born
soaked in dinosaur blood turned to petroleum
the pterodactly petroglphys premonitions prompted Hell
to slam her furnace glare off toward heave On
making a marker obsidian
arrowing a harrowing barrow of sheer point
with no point other than
dire
-rection of envy
___________________
                                  *unmansionable oilternal (day rill*
what is my oilness said olive pit
                   pity nowhere in shite
as they say in wanking oswego
by the muffin shop
crumble top
canker mop
                     (called a must stash)
what is my oil behavior derricked from?
only one who studied Berryman
can pick the seed from the scat
off the cuff in the bush
deep in hollers of foggy bottom
d------------------- rilling dry holes
get a doodle buggod by god
said james joyce
on the oilternal day
greasing the grace
to wean the pit of the cheery stones on the net
holding O whale abysmally content.
________________
   *darwin in the mead at the linnaean garage 1637*
mead of honey power
goddiss endowed, dowry
flower empowered, empress
suffused
bower, on thine bee knees please
sweeter buds tongue
tickled to mind loin showered
taste lick
her liquor pistil shot to glasses
flame inflamamble yet fame
variable as darwin
under barrels of grog mislabeled
pickled in hammocks
rocking fathoms of theories
into buzzing delirium
drained at cosmos close in the linnaean garage,
living carpet of story moss
over the six dimensional phaeton 3200
ever exhausting comet spray
suffice to say
dribbled about scrooge like as life in the universe
____________
                          *above swale glacier 3393 B.C.*
ice baby& snow baby back in rip van winkle's
oak labyrinth of star fed ancients
there on arrowhead hill
with spring fed water mama popping from
under papa root dug deep
hill buttressed by volcano pores hardened as whiskers
off the big bang or big bank ice& snow
baby made mistletoe garlands
and acorn salads for deer as their hands glowed holy
healing from their cenote souls
and trillion aeons
of beauty repository metamorphosis
winnowing light thru water cold patient
                                     as space born glaciers know
patterned in plant faces
astral, new to old dirt.



12-8-17 bloggod, mt tabor oregon

the salt lick (1988)

down, hidden in the ravine
by the brushpile
the other side of lake
out on north side of town
beyond gentle dip of road who floods
under mere rain
drop, even further out than deserted
drive-in theaters we once
found a salt lick
having no cattle of our own
we wondered how it got
to be there
assuming it to be planted for you seed late
in the autumn
when leaves left their final right
indentations on pond water
when coyote scat is cold
as a nickle, when turkey drops
tail feather to sail over horizon, when
night's only sound is the steady
churn of a oil well
&even that is mind imagining a
heartbeat, then it is a dear
deer season indeed



(1988, Lawrence Kansas)

primordial grail log (1988)

in the beginning there were no wine glasses,
only the drinking troughs of logs
fallen& filled with veggie matter rotting sweetly

&back then, there were no handy bowls
of nuts or popcorn to provoke
thy thirst, all one had was the parching plains wind
&endlessness of night

no glowing neon phalluses
no high heeled pinball jezebels chawing sugarfree gum
no smoky jutebox come ons
no puddles of thrown up lite beer
no lastcalls over drones of monday night football

in the beginning, the accident was the creation,
the result was a sacrament

acceptance letter Columbia University Graduate Writing Program 1989

Proud to have survived K.U. and the midwest.

Was also accepted to Brown U. graduate school in 1989.

Decided to be a poet, father, artist, honky tonk musician, laborer, and lover here in Oregon
and once upon a time in the state of Washington.

in the hammersmith garage (1987)

winter prys its icy fingers
into the crack of the huge sliding door,
pointed colors gust in the car exhaust.

greasy joe slides under a car
&wrenches at pipes, straining
not unlike a man milking a cow
in the frost of four a.m. iowa

he loosens a nut that drains the oil
and the cow wobbles
weakheaded. he puts a feedsack over the hood

and gives the back fender a
fleshy, familiar slap


Lawrence, Kansas 1987
published in the Allegheny Review
won William Herbert Carruth Poetry prize at K.U.

long listen

the wind only in the bamboo shafts
the wind only whishing the cottonwood
                          precise moments of no wind
but for the stirring unfurl of blackberry vines
causing what certainly registers
                        for one listening
through wind
to find an origin

not yet sounded


5-20-13 portland oregon

bondo

the work never ends, but who wants it to
sanding, patching, protecting,

beautifying with process, reversing
nature's alternate vision of entropy

the more things fall apart
the stronger the bond

i make it so, saliva bird nest,
deck in the oregon rain sun,

map of clothing
shed on a friday's open vista


4-13-13 portland

thermal bog

steam gurgles wet tidings in sauna darkness
our pores get rich,
open their fat wallets of food money and spend energy
dropping beads of golden sweat
into a river with legs tired from sitting still,
rib cages of birds tethered,
gliding toward the salty pool of time
in which laps
lapse what was hissing, missing,
kissing.

poolhall fray

into the fray of the poolhall night
swaying its ocean of human spirit o'er the deck
dancing girls holding cuesticks and beers
all the posturing and face one can imagine
bringing strangers together braided in physical contest
highlighted by long spears
bandied loosely as one stalks the table for next shot,
possibilities.





12-3-17 Portland Oregon 
SouthEast  Periphery 

Oklahoma State University Cafeteria (1986)

i sit and wait in the university cafeteria
for my coffee to cool. "and what about that
good 'ole boy from midwest city? he was kinda
slow." two overweight businessmen
wear ugly brown ties. ugly
okies and leering foreigners park in the cafeteria
to watch the fatassed coeds carry their heaping
salad platters. the ugly
men have notebooks graphpaper and big calculators
strewn about their tables.
the middle easterners lounge with empty milk cartons and
spilled wild rice. when they go to class
they occupy the front row and
study most dilligently while at home in the dorm.

here in the cafeteria, they watch
american bacteria socialize

OSU 1986
__________________




Tillerson was born on March 23, 1952, in Wichita Falls, Texas, He was raised in Vernon, Texas; Stillwater, Oklahoma; and Huntsville, Texas.

"At age 14, he began to work as a bus boy in the student union building at Oklahoma State University.

 Two years later in 1968 he became a janitor working in one of the engineering buildings at the university.

On weekends, he worked picking cotton."

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rex_Tillerson

fjord fallow night

rib riven of seaside oxen driven to death
flank flung on coal bed born beside a black oak
seven seers serene tear severe to bits in bites
ash char snow lettered prehistoric blood scribble spray
ice ballast beard teeters toward keg
fists scabbed wrapped in ointment rags plundered
of southern thrusts plunged draining dawn of sun
slung moon songs hurled breath smoke
under eight pelts four furs six trees three rivers solid mtn sweat
mothers birth men yet cry to scare wolves stiff distant
in dens won by woe found wanting
creel harpoon craft mast listing in mist bygone tomorrow to battle
a silver rattle left and earrings persian glass
time sealed in twelve century slough night tantalizes mead heavy mind
a brace of narwhale ivory mends a leather pillow of a man
old known tree sounds fire speaks seasons secret lines
the fjord mirror draped in loam and foals child chased
her shield resting more tested his spear ready less flaunted
reindeer swim amid star filled lakes glacier gotten
acorn rolls name game the wood script floats off intelligent
cloak unhurried a button waits finger frozen
sleep steams breath falls not far afield of brows sheltered
three roosters call fallow nights hold over
in goldrimmed henbane pots ice capped from sitting
knot known by woden born the day belongs



5-31-17 Portland

a prosperity of ignorance (1992)

a chain of days, awakened at noon hour, leads one from the complacency of sleep to the
dormancy of reason. in denial of ennui's abundance, words throw fences from pencilpoint
to cage brain bubbles dancing a page mist. too much art plans an escape in twisted sheets
tied together from upper windows to the ground.
     portland's heathman pub, frequented by families with sunday familes; full breadbaskets,
grouped at round tables with small observant bursts of children cuts the tv's grasp on the
willful blind.  it makes sense to hop from cafe to cafe, a metaphysical fox in concord. play
feels like work was robbed of its claws.
     man and woman at sidewalk window; piano jazz. there is a gait and plate glass fence,
insuring the tincture of originality. this sunday's grey provides a daughter to pattycake with
daddy. nothing seems prosperous, or entire, or white. my shape discerns its own ignorance
in a pool of lazy, idle thought. the clock edits my morality, and all sides of truth depart, like
a pesto loaf covered in rough salt in front of strangers.

volva the seer

godan goes gut questioning the volva the seers
down on a knee trance immersed consultation trade show
marijuana smoke incense in a bear skull
opens woden eye to their level
shud ice unlock above village homes
shud famine rool does hfrafn attack
seior seer seized her wand knocked open odin
open golden entry
sheer glass mirror mountains 
sybolled in colored fire runes
covered carts ferry enormous speeds on roads hundreds of nations long
ships filled like wingless dragons with citizens
lift beyond sight nearly silent
arms and legs, sown on after battle
in ever day palaces of light and ammonia
fingers and tongues reattached, broken arms
 straighened like daisies
wodan puzzled hard collapsed
drifted realms untasted
farms growing vegetables odd livestock by the billion
woden chewed reindeer jerky
raspberries mead and volva's dark secrets


5-27-17

dumber'n dirt (1994)

token planet ruler spermbanks
collapse, discredited in future disinterest
in their poortential, disinfected
by time

the They who are the Say
seed sky with Love to
popularize life
outgrowing portfolio stockades

yer folks dumber'n dirt
&less useful than sandbags

when oceans rise to gobble
coastal infections tensions dissolve
proving

reality dissension


1994 Hawaii

diamondhead catharsis (1994)

diamondhead groupies moneyclipped together
colby-swiss-n-cheddar
in search of sunsurf catharsis

a monet or two of something
pertaining to "downtime"

as becca and i lay our silverwares
out to pawn for rent

to afford this warm
glistening lounge music
alienating hotel from home

surreal allsmile academy
frontrow seat in mama's strong arms,
lithe waves cool the anxiety

of not selling this poem
my laptop cosmic, crediting
transcendence

awash in fees


Oahu, Hi 1994

The Mint, the Dalles, Oregon May 1, 2009: Michael Hurley w/forest bloodgood

Michael Hurley---guitar, vocals
Forest Bloodgood---violin
5-1-2009
The Mint, the Dalles, Oregon
         
1. Have I Told You Lately How Much I Love You? (Scotty Wiseman)
2. Moon Song ( Mildred Plew Meigs)
3. I Wanna Go Steady (Hurley?)
4. She Got the Money Too (the Corklickers)
5. The Ways of Man Are Passing Strange (Gordon Bok)
6. Gonna Work for Peace (Hurley)
7. Rattlesnake Song (traditional, Almeda Riddle 8-21-59)
8. Dusty Skies (Cindy Walker)
9. No Can Do (Hurley)
10. Mona Lisa (Nat King Cole)
11. Oh My Stars (Hurley)
12. Otto Wood The Bandit (Doc Watson)
13. Since I Met You Baby (Ivory Joe Hunter)
14. If I had a Perot (Hurley)

story poems for d'arty kids

*
out of music, fire once born sprung soft furred creature looking like the protector
of the land, catlike only greater and more stealthy than bear by far, covered in
thought-mists golden to find present. as it were no phoenix but rather a unique
and hypothetical phenomenon, it bore great glory in how it assumed the first paragraph
and longest sentences uttered by man. unrelatedly, unleashed on future tangled now;
*     *
                                                                                    There was a stinky little skink
went rambling thru the alley and over a hedge
into the living room of some giraffes
who bent their necks, again, again, again
to inquire? may i? help you?
there were cashews in bronze boot mugs
"have some snacks" offered the giraffes
"climb on in we do" harrumphed  the unbathed skink
eating his way to the bottom of the boot.
luckily, there was a rocketship
waiting for him there
it would take him anywhere and It did
*   *   *
rabbit rode out on a train to meet the mallard delgates
there by the Of Course Lake
near a colosseum made of mallard wishbones
and wattle and daub assorted-styrofoam boat seats
they were convening to party like mockstar
quite frankly, and share grog of peat juice
their favorite colloboration
selling well in liverpool and quebec too
when along came fox in his auto mobile
wearing a scrappy smirk and a bib
"hey fellahs need a lift"
"quack off and bite my long ears"  they told Fox
he puttered off over a cliff with no impact
and rabbit and mallard entered the great colosseum
filled with giant carrot sculptures and lilly pad sofas
it was a rollicking good party
they wagered and indian leg wrestled sealed handshakes in spit and hugged,
it was a partnership of groggy prominence
and unstoppable sales potential. at the end
rabbit hopped off home under the grounds of a thousand trees
and mallard took wing with hundreds of others
to galaxies of water and nibble fish and even muskrat
                                                              is nice on thursdays
*   *   * 
tiny leopards do enormous leaps off an endless tree
they land so softly the ground signs a check
to mother nature, gravity makes marble dust freeze in time
                                                                    tiny leopards do that.
*   *   *
mice do their business down by the baseboard
under the sink and lick the dripwater and
do harvest dances wearing the regalia of their ancestors
and hold sunday school with free lunches and boxes of bellyjeans
mice form unions mice go sing bawdy songs mice
                                                             mice mice mice
*   *   *
terminator the worm gnawed a hole
thru the gas can and went to bed over a painted lovely sponge
there was moonlight thru the rustholes
he could hear cricket playing fiddle down in the bog
he could see the shadow of egret
he could be more still than an unrustable love
he could hope to go visit the full moon of no fear
or grow some wings if he was that kind of worm
and not the intergalactic robot kind
sent here to run for office, very slowly, and only
by rolling there in an okie-gypsy can
*  *   *
recall ye the salty old sailor and his unspeakable prowess
on the seas of most of his life never barfing
only barking orders thru waves of sloshy ocean stuff
at men men men used to taking it
with a smile and splinter remedy of octopi tears
they were setting net for the
gold mermaids however politically wrong that may seem now
recall the salty old sailor was a classic jerk
with insatiable prowess of which the gold mermaid
reluctantly and nervously dealt with
by stealing his sardines
what they were good at was ship wreck howards, so
the salty sailor would sign them up
for the tycoons on land too busy with hunting or war or football
who would escort the mermaids in their own
submersibles of fortune hunting caricatures
the salty sailor wanted nothing to do with anything but the
sea, but ya gots to pay the piper he says and
the accordions go wild and stupid stunts land blows
they sleep like dogs in a pile of rocking boat water
mermaids prefer to swim alongside,
telling their romantic tales and warning of octopi fans
in the mall and around strange sturgeons
but the salty sailor he has told them the nightmare to boil ya in shivers
                                                                                 make yer eyelids go peely
                                                                  have ya a blister on the nose from
                                                   laughting up a tornado of slobber
                        while learning ya the betters
if ya'd only soak it in( thats a tough sell)                       but nature makes it.
*   *   *
they were tweenage minks, looking for trouble in rainbow land
they had a truck of hot candy at the ballgame
they sold it for a thousand gazillion double helix sand dollars
they bought mink coats for their friends
everyone was their friend
they all looked like
successful
minks, as you can imagine. slender, regal, and bathed in rainbows
they made music videos, they got old and wrinkled,
they became philosophers and said really odd things
but the rainbows had permanently colored their eyes
they were So Beautiful
that is why they became President.
*  *   *
"rollerskating derbies are always fun" she screamed
going faster than the spool of candy around her mind
boys boys boys tight fast lanes
curves around the rink i don't look stupid i'm a dork i'm just
a blur who sees me sees a going faster than
the silk of a coccoon
in the most instrumental transformation
where others become right in laying at your wings
that perfume the air with grace
like a flirt that goes well but vanishes into the night with friends
everyone was laughing that look
off the ground the skate wheels slowly rotates
there are pieces of crushed boy hearts all over them
it's cute as heck
*   *   *
baby one and baby two went on a voyage
it was reckless, it was bizarre, it had the best burgers that babies can buy
and it went to a valley
baby three, baby four, baby eight and baby forty nine all
had guitars and learning disabilities
it was so far away from everyone else, it didn't matter. they
rocked like bad baby guitarists and made no one
cry. then, at the motel, they trashed the pool.
they made international news go beserk and rich
ads sold their logos on baby apparel for gangstas
wah wah and a thousand decibels
of hammered baby claw notes
they made a mess. they were babies gone mild, spilled milk
reflected the getaway stroller bent from  tantrums and digestion.
*  *   *
old turtle craweld over the vocabulary of night
in a olde waye of knowledge
riding a hammerhead and brandishing a volleyball
there for the kingdom he would visit were he able.
old turtle made merry
he sang and whistled to the oak trees
he kissed the dew instead of blinking
had three daughters of perfect turtle heritage
glossy shelled and stubborn as granite pillows
well they had gone to a dance
without him, he knew they were sure to be
courted and so olde turtle hurried his step
and quit texting while he walked
over the dictionary of day in the veritable use
of wordjewels as bricks or fire or atomic sky glimmers
olde turtle never seemed to get there
the oaks were happy his voice was as old and soft as rain
the world knew he was forever atrudge
the moss under his ears had its own wikipedia page
his nails were worn down as the basins of waterfalls
his tongue could lick flames off his eyes
were he to walk thru the middle of volcanic activity
in the alphabet of creation olde turtle
were a mighty pawn and the mover of mindsets
his pattern made sense with a stare of ten zillion smiles
so deep the ocean calls him amigo
*   *   *
hippo child in his wallow crib made a lullabye
out of sheer algae inspired delirium
he wore a scarm which no had ever ever seen or heard of
it was made of sticks vines dental floss and marsh bits
he called it a scarm but it was a bad jewelry
hippo child had no fashion sense. his daddy was
a hobo hippo on the moon, sometimes visiting venus.
hippo boy had made a good living on his own
despite his adorable scarm (kind of like a scarf
dragging across the wallow zone like an invite for ridicule
the othe hippos had a field day his lullaby over came their old fat hippo hearts one day
 we can't know how it went they were underwater
it was during a rainstorm and they were
scared, too, so it helped.
*   *  *
the fuzziest thing ever to walk on five legs
did handstands for a living and had a gig at the rodeo
there were also feats of stupid strength
the fuzziest thing could win blue ribbons all day
it didn't matter he felt like a baldy
he was the fuzziest thing:                                             ever.
it was never enough, the hall of mirrors, the extra hats.
the walking on our hands to make our hair frizz and touch the earth
it seems to fly off into space
stolen by space snipper-bots, little twerplings
INVENt your own Hair, please. the fuzziest thing
jolted the crowd, using the character acting classes
he'd learned from videos in the library trashcan
*   *   *
sometime galactic space weasels go speed to the little novas
that want to be left alone, there under
swingsets of sweet night

give us space you flippy little space weasels with no manners
and ability to blend memory into carmel soup
i know there in the hammock of celestial bodies

we see forms
creating new forms
developing perfection as a work of time carries truth

in spite of ferret looking space weasles with rabies and bad breath
that solicit one for long business deals
under the toy train nostalgia for days devoid of dumdums

skipping merrily in tandem with nonsensical
visions, germinating, washing off,
running off into the love of animal  frivolity licking growling

huffing preening cleaning dining
animal brethren all the neighbors digging
scratching hunting raising young
*  *   *
the nest gets bigger every day as the bird shaped movie star
takes every twig from the tree until only a toothpick
holds up the daydream he has made
a definition of unsustainability look like a cakewalk rigged with cakes
the cakes go every direction one can imagine
it is a real mirage
the nest glows with frosting, the diva has a party of one
its huge. he goes to work, and escapes as the salty sailor
he puts the nest in storage in a cloud
he finds the boat over where the water starts
he gets in the boat named after his favorite storm and grinds up the starter
his anchor is encrusted with valentine candy and seals
don't want to let go----they're heavy enough to sink us!
he reekingly cries in overstatement deluxe.
the actual Poseidon intervenes,
arriving on a seahorse named dolly with flames of nostril exhaust.
the sea lions consider taking on the lord of the sea
and say nope by flipping away with candy powered flops
the salty sailer gives Poseidon a hug
as the god recoils from his lacquerd smell of Land
as the ship clears the harbor the salty sailor swells up like a pufferfish
connected to a pneumatic machine run by ocean power
the sea says hello to the sailor
another day making dolphin jokes and carving narwhale tropies
*   *   *
sleeping in a sweet pile of kittens
a kitten so small
it got buried and lost
the mama found it and took it aside
with little licks
it was all better
it mewed and had milk
life made it happy
it slept and got carried
it never opened its mew in anger
it left it in the bottom
of the pile under the sweet sisters
and brothers it stayed warm with in their relativistic
digression toward modernistic analogies
involving non kitten philosopy
and cute trite tactical purrs
a kitten so small
it found a lion's share
*   *  *
angelfish eating daffodil salads, how random.
they're everywhere these days, the salad palaces we call them.
around every fishbowl on every street in american random.
raccoons try to say hello to the angelfish
but of course, don't get eaten or mauled was the golden rule
under the big dark rock. more dressing for the salad!
the bitterness calls for angel-honey
next time, give the raccoon a chance
*   *   *
skunk and toad and sallymander went on a rollercoaster
made of a a leaf stitched to a pine needle
it didn't work they waited to frolick to no avail
but had a great philosophical discussion
on the best kind of weather: dry, or wet.
toad says i love windy weather when i'm around skunk
skunk says i love wet weather to keep toad from looking like a gross rock
sallymander says i love weather whether weather seems or knots
and made the rollercoaster real
it was called The Seasons in a dream before the machines took over
and grew the nature all down
*   *   *
at the bottom of the lake the rare whale
gave a concert concerning celestial laws and omens
following which a raffle for a pile of kelp
was meant to fundraise the sewer system feeding the lake.
dignitaries were bussed in by eel fleets
there was zapping all about and a bit of extra
haze to the water if you get the drift
the rare whale had to deal with it, what else?
go park in nebraska and do husking? with these set of pipes?
if the comets and asteroids and space junk
start to look like the ocean
i'm shopping for a cryochamber swears the diva whale
the omens are fair to partly spewey with spouting
he thinks he's a elephant with flippers
he thinks the lake is the sea
he knows sewers are supposed to go out not in.
with these pipes?
*  *   *
three dandelions woke up the sun with a soft song
three robins threaded a curtain around the puppet box full of silk
three bears on their hind legs find their tiptoes on the shelf
three plinks in a pond go wide and interlap
three beetles ride three ants in a first time ever miracle
three blades of grass next to the dandelions rub shoulders
we're all in it together, all ten
*   *   *
a rodeo of snails dipped in television magic
can easily get out of the box
of control and take over the universe of comical lunacy
they can hitch rides to the moon its a bigproblemlately
it is getting slimed and their spurs leave scuffs all over
they sure know how to ride that rodin thinker brow
they have the promise of moonworm
the buck stops bucking in free gravity heaven
enter: the dragon. it has a costume, and is
allergic to television magic.
the sneezing is tragic, and much debated
by shock jocks most everwhere.
*   *   *
sorry boys boys boys
acting cool, looking great, acting tough
breaking out, feeling hurt, getting lost,
boys boys boys
denim polyester sneakers
no coat, no lunch, no comb.
boys boys boys.
*   *   *
a flight of donkeys or a coven of lemurs will suffice, pig.
get the cranberry marmalade, an olde turtle book of proverbs,
four jars of dally dally, a flowervase of pure energy,
a trough of applesauce to bathe the donkeys
a pew of pillows to pummel mid late early morning
otters may get involved, even a spare vole.
they usually have commitments, but we'll see. if i can get a vole,
you have my solemn bray, as witnessed by
retired turtle volunteers with rotten knees.

*   *   *
under the wheelbarrow, a manger of kittens, a sleeping
pile of unopened eyes only days old
i put the barrow back down
and later saw mama come back
she move them as were her wont, refugees
under a woodpile, near as good as a barrow
or better if there be mice
the pile okitties start exploring, the world
is their wheelbarrow not their crib
it isn't olde turtle's heavy shell
it isn't any more a manger it hauls catnip and smitten rhymes
now they're all in managerial positions
i. like zeus, let them go.
go my cat babies, and be feral and charm the other fearing beasts
small enough for your pounce and play
*  *   *
polar bear had a dream of climbing the stars using igloos
already full of people so he stacked men and ice
interchangably in a blind frenzy, and even a few huskies
got thrown in, and one or two oil guys, and i heard even
some missionaries but that is not confirmed, polar bear
climbed up to our first star the moon
and had a bad case o hunger
he ate the dust and even the astronauts footprints
he used the flag to hunt non food items of rocks
polar bear bounced slow over the dream stuck
on a fake star with no food
he was crushed into polar bear jelly and the moon
gave a toast to mankind
*   *   *
princess clothes on sale for free and cosmetics bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
that make you feel good about earth and shoes from recycled nouns
princess gear get it here bags and galoshes and crystal earring chandeliers
princess rides in steel pumpkins along for the
pomp and procession an animal non princess gives her a kiss
and is transformed into a rose garden
princes are invited, that is the variation. otherwise,
flipped shell game the animal was a spelling bee
*   *   *
mountains with legs stand up at night and take a stroll
no one notices they're super asleep
saint helens meets hood by the columbia
they are super huge so they don't have far to go,
with that mature base and all. legs of diamond muscle
do the trick, you'd think footprints would be found
you'd want proof, would you not?
they got a load of snow with the wettest december in 70 years
they really have to want to go out, it is no easy task
especially unseen and leaving no tracks
wearing magic slippers over feet
pure carbon squooshed together in strands brilliant
moutains with legs& foothills that know
*   *   *
wren flitted about the window of the ogre
trying to get his notice, she had a special egg to lay in his ear
he awoke from a century wide nap as the wallpaper
sagged from the still shaking plaster walls
he went to the window and lifted the wren onto his foot long finger
she gives him a peck on the cheek and hops hops into his ear
with hairy vines strong enough for pelicans to roost
she doesn't go too deep into the ear and it isn't fear
she finds x marks the spot written in neon in the ogre's eardrum
she pops an egg out so fast one must say: wow
wren is flying out of a mist of wax and batwebs and newyears confetti
she makes it to the window with a thud
the window had been closed, ogre lifts her and with his all powered
breath revives wren, she gives him the peck
on his cheek he opens the inch thick glass, breathes her good tidings
the egg and the eardrum are one
*   *   *
chattering squirrel and loon loon made a massive fort
and brought their snacks in clamshell cases
to celebrate the solstice and have a real good time
the woods were still as others were all on a cruise ship
the woods were abandoned to only chattering squirrel and loon loon
as the rain began and the rivers swelled
they went higher into the tree, saying goodbye to the massive fort
it was neat to watch it drift off until the river made it
to less chattery squirrel's doorstep
Halt he Cried! and nature complied! loon loon did a double dance
went diving off the doorstep into the murk
he came back with the cruise ship! it was inside a sealed bottle,
and all the lilliputians came billowing out like ants
following no queen but their old star codes and pre-printed
directions.
*   *   *
your dolly has old clothes your dolly has a sweet face
your tongue is green can i have some candy
your messy room your good grade your slumber party your life
is such a beautiful gift your presence
your dolly is the best your existence hath improved all reality
born of our children your perfection makes all good
*   *   *
toy nails and hammers and kites,
real steel cars, balls to kick or throw
new bike new ribbon new mirror new stuffed friend
before mom and dad wake up
a fancy huge boot nailed to the fireplace
full of candy money candy figurines
the tree what my parents call gaudy all blinking in every color they make
with chains of silver and bells of gold
and globes of shiny strange reflections i see myself stretched
eating the last cookie wearing a snow moustace i am older than santa
toy this toy that, the time and the mantle and the moon fades with morn
*   *   *
billy goat had an idea, and went to visit the wizard to share it,
so the wizard took the idea and changed it into a mouse
with human legs and a perfect set of teeth which spoke english
better than the king. mousemanking found riding on the
goats head difficult , so he made a kite and rode it trailing the goat but above.
mouse could see far ahead, that was the perfect idea
and had senses you wouldn't believe unless you visit the wizard
and your great idea allows it like billy goat can.
*   *   *
chipmunks at a comedy club, with glazed eyes and a bowl of captain grunch
they have seen this scene before, last hibernation. down in philly.
back into their hotrods, the road is exploding behind them.
industry could care less, they're at the comedy club with the seals of approval.
chipmunks come across some chimpanzees at the waterhole.
they try to shake hands but end up getting tossed into the kitchen soup tureen.
it is luckily gazpacho and they emerge most refreshed.
they laugh it off, the chimps say sorry and buy them subscriptions to acorn digest
its all good, at least better than last time, up in newark.
*   *   *
learn how to type, aladdin's mom yelled as he ran off to ali babbas cave
but got waylaid by a dreaming lion on a dune
who playing a mandolin by an oasis seemed the most brisk form of enlightment
aladdin had ever seen. by the way, the lion asked, would you like
a typing lesson? before hearing any reply his tail did a swoosm
in the polished glowing sand and it was his: perfect fingerstyle stenograpic chops
at home his mom was dazzled and said this is your treasure
that opens the world, it is never the other way around . the type learns you,
the sand and swoosm are your dream. aladdin was pretty worldly, he knew a good
swipe of luck when it brushed his dusty self off.
*   *   *
whale told a short story in long song form, it were too beautiful.
the water was moved, rippled off into space
the whale was soon dry
he inhaled half back
and ocean returned, with bits of star crumbs all over the spinning wheels.
cute as moonbeams, but not as beautiful as creation once swam.
*   *   *
frog was eating a sandwich by the lumber mill
along came beaver and his family in a cart drawn by bart simpson
ruining frog's perfect( beatrix potter) dill pickle.
start over: frog jumped in the pond with his webby fingers
full of sandwitches, and up swam beaver ready to help hold them
on his paddle above the guaranteed water.
frog loved beaver and would trust him with his very own tadpoles
so of course he tossed his halfsogged sandwichz
onto beaver's tail. why'd you do it, frog?
wasn't paying attention. i saw ralph nader by the lumber mill
and got jinxed heebie jeebied and sphinxed.
*   *   *
a buffalo stood knee deep in the light from past the sun
it made buffalo strong and lasting
in a wind of men with fired eyes and women hungrye too much to last
the buffalo rode salmon upstream into mountains unbroken
thru tree hewn rugged earth swallowing shadows
where bears fear to forage the buffalo withstood embrace of man
until a girl so small wearing only a dress and boots
grabbed herself off the bank she washed up on
and climbed the shag of the buffalo to his hump and nestled there
as buffalo went over the mountain's glaciered stone terraces
when she awoke the buffalo was gone
overlooking a metroplex
an industrial center, three quick marts, and nine coffees in two hands
*   *   *
hello lark, hello robin
whatcha doing besides the nest
laying eggs on the inside
well when you're done want to hunt worms
sure the rain makes them juicy
if the mud doesn't ruin the flavor
i'll see you by the park bench
ok unless that dogs there
thanks for remembering that or that old man with the cane
oh him well make a good strong shell and get your rest
oh yesdearie and mind the drones its xmas
*   *   *
porcupine wears the free hugs cardboard sign down at the saturday market
he waits by the elephant ear booth all the cinnamon and sugar
keeping hands occupied as porcupine goes in for his free hug
until the ballon artist is pulled in on a tractor beam
to mr pincushion its just a skit. the public is fooled.
out of the porcupine suit comes three twins in amobea suits.
they are famously known and fooled the world again,
the clapping goes on for a few months. the three twins go hang with banksy.
the fooled public goes wild.
*   *   *
nine minnows had a school under the leafy banks of
an oklahoma creek and told math stories and learned history sports
drew hook lines sinker diagrams on tablets of mica
named the various outboard motors that chop and dice who generations
nine minnows so serene with rulers and rules
with knowledge and vice and staring out the window at clouds above
passing notes two minnows in minnow love
 no teacher no principal no bells ringing just a minnow jedi
making the banks leafy making the lines break and hooks melt
nine minnows using their minds, tiny items in moving
winter streams turgid and cold for nature's way
*   *   *
the salty sailor took a hurricane speed bath out on deck
lashed to the mast as usual by his crew for wanting to go over the
sea serpent straits without any escort from the office of lucky glides
he ran into odysseus who stranded on a lump of clay
out off the coast of maine was in sore need of a clam chowder
they took him in and gave him the galoshes of the times
 and explained calendar art and as Odysseus warmed he came to sense
and went diving back off ship, the salty sailor took it in stride
and consulted the nearest mermaids who explained odyessesus
longing to return home. the salty sailor made some mac and cheese
in his microwave as the hurricane pitterpattered/ his oh whateter boat/
i have lost many marlin/ in me day /says the salty sailor
and put si racha  on his dinner to later spew back at the sea serpents
the salty sailor thinks ahead, for his ship and his crew.
*   *   *
the babysitter had eight girls, three boys, two poodles, a spaniel,
and an iphone thirtysix. they were coralled like beasts of disney.
they were aimed at a set called television which beamed
correct happy things alternating with things to fear or confuse.
babies wet each others, had fights, rolled happy drooling,
the iphone thirtysix was lonely but had fun beeping in stupid ringtones:
                                                                                              it got a life of its own.
the babysitter took a bath out on the deck
while the poodles sat the spaniel who was watching the
iphone thirtysix videomonitor the eleven assorted infantry.
the bubble bath was perfect under a blaring stereo moon
it was modest and helped out her sister's sister
all the tomcats in the world meowled at the big party on the roof
it sounded huge but was just another day in baby kingdom
*   *   *
the smore hovered over the earth lake and drank up a portion
before reappearing over the home of  the boy chosen
before time, to be there as his first zit bloomed and hold his hand
from outer space during the agony of that first zit
then it went back across veritable tarmac of time/space
in a popping motion that let loose a warpdrive
to excel at animated productions of feature programs
drinking up the attention from punts, runts, and grunts
*   *   *
bunny, bear, and horse were playing tennis at the park
when a storm blew in and ruined the game
they packed their balls and rackets in backpacks and ran home
cold and shivery. it was in the middle of the day.
there were crickets asleep under the floor boards and bread in the oven
bunny wanted a carrot, bear needed some honey, and whaddya think
horse had for lunch? honey carrots with alfalfa. they watched
the storm go away, goodbye storm hello smaller and smaller
raindrops and then no wind rather a blue crease of sky.
it was too wet for tennis, but not too wet.
*  *   *
a rowboat of glass
a totem pole on top of a chicken
a game of laughing to find the biggest and bestest friend
a tree to scale with fingers barely more open than acorns
a wave of air capable of wishing stars weren't fireflies
a taste of mom's food after hours and hours
playing ball with dad shooting hoops or catch much younger an
anchor made of sandriverleavings
a smile reaching past the laughter willing limb handles
doing skin the cat having the bed made over me
creepmouse daughters diving off my shoulders as i stand in the lake
*   *   *
acting out westerns with toy cap guns in the woods
never got me shot by the cops in real world our skateboarding
around campus wasn't hooligan behavior neither was
walking around town after midnight if we wanted playing tennis
middle of the night with all the lights on
taking the bikes down the highway to the minnow and candy store
going fishing at friends ponds for hours unattended most surely
playing sports for years playing the violin
being a semisuperhero before that drawing soldiers and tanks during vietnam
acting out acting out acting out boy boy boy
*   *   *
longhaired snowbunny with superlong feet met sasquach
under the sequoia on a planet not far away, and asked for some foot
advice: trim the nails with tools, or chew them off?
sasquatch: i never chew mine off, thats nasty. i use obsidian shears.
snowbunny: it figures
they lead a charmed and solitary existence, so their banter is often curt.
snowbunny: want to see some frozen huckleberry bushes?
sas: you mean the ones behind you stained purple like snowconemen"
up flew a cardinal as red as a jfk xmas in france, she had
a foot question too: leave your tracks in the snow, or eat them?
*   *   *
all the wee bumpkins in their iconic villager ruffles and d'arty kids
preamblin' thru a picture of america the beautiful
warts and all, horse trough handsink, lodging with foes of renown,
getting taken to sea hogtied to work for eight months
better to barter one's larder on shore for sure
free trudgingly stumbling from pal to pub to log and stove
dressed commonly in no uniformity forced to kneel
but for beknightings of treelimbs as one works ones way home
thru dense underbrush never destroyed
untamed terrains unterraced or terrorized domains
bloomers kilts& lorry sleds, the marking of america
well hitched in burlap knickers and cardigans
kept clean enuff to leave finally to the d'arty kids
*   *   *
born a pony
never once
mule by nature
ever dunce
pointed wonder
pulling weight
unicorn power
never late
*** *** ***
in the treehouse, sallyjo and buster had a pretend microwave and a box of food toys
with vines plugging the treehouse into the beginning of the morning
and the sun doing extra good warming them and making the cutlery user friendy
for four year olds, sally jo and brother buster mixed a tub of dust and twig chips
with three driblets of spit from buster and set the microwave to high
using a dial made from a soda cap nailed on, in the treehouse three feet seemed
to be in the upper clouds if they dropped pizza off the rail it took
a good minute or two to bring it back up the step with olive-rocks on top
of the mudsauce and dirtcheese boarddough, in the treehouse a binoculars
helped spy good cats and bad dogs, and rotten old neighbors, in the
treehouse there were only stick walls and a roof there was only a pretend
address and a pretend skull and crossbones chalked on the floor
in the treehouse we can leave the faucet running
door open lights on fridge open but never laugh when leaves
blow off into piles and months go by with nary a bud nor flower to mircofry
*   *   *
cheese mouse sat near the great museum and sniffed his fill, and decided to tunnel
in near the bank where it was softly available, nibble thru the melty brie exterior
into the mozzarella brick and string cheese girders, grinding parmesean concrete
to get to the aged cheddar valult, just past moldy blue security poison. 
a worm had made its way thru eight feet of soil to find a mate. everything is unrelated.
*   *   *
in a marathon race with dragonflies one better borrow a jetpack
or a da vinci kit and three d printer. the dragonflies had promised to visit ladybug
for years, but they were always busy. then, at  the kale patch, they finally
made a date and said they'd bring a game to play. instead, they brought a kingfisher
it was rather inappropriate, said the ladybug, looking up at kingfishers nice beak.
dragonfly used it as an excuse to huff off, which was fine by ladybug.
and kingfisher had laundry to do. in a long distance race with olde turtles and
salty sailors the preying mantis moves best: at once.
*   *   *
squid and kangaroo had nothing to do
 but say adieu to vous and vous
lark and crow gave nowhere a show
in view of the few born with a clue
moose and hog rolled snake and frog
to joke the hawk and others mock
lightning let loose the new caboose
squidaroo and kanga too had no hands to move
*   *   *
a mammoth would sit on this spot and feed her young
in the days not long ago, among heaps of frozen spinach
the mammoth would linger, draped in glory of popeye,
giving her baby some milk from a huge bottle
by the volcanic gloryhole birthing drinking ware for prehistory.
a mammoth would stand on this spot and watch
for lions, her mate scouring the underbrush just near.
a mammoth would live among others
their power more than just their size, as monuments
in motion they would rest on this spot
clean from the river, unhunted by life
*   *   *
monkey flew first class to the  walnut factory to buy some snark.
the walnut stumps fun to climb over in the airplane lavatory
all those stamps covering monkey
all that monkey business being made to order just with flag decals
at the walnut factory mailbox monkey did the self delivery
of finding the source of the walnuts
which was in fact a truck with a time portal in the exhaust pipe
in he went like a barrel full of explorers after nut banana pie
the stamps began to undo his motion of monkey elegance
he ripped furiously as john muir in heathen marin discovered the yeti
the stamps janis joplin wore off the jimi stamp was tuned on
walnuts didn't seem so important anymore
he wondered why he'd spent so many aeons swinging the vines of time
to get here first class in a race to stay extinct? not.
 *   *  *
undersea dolphin tribes and better places forbidden to humans
but not to kids and assorted children, they built=to order the imagination
delicate materials, gossamer hypotheticals, fantastical creatures
other things with eyes, you'll see
                                                                        undersea dolphin tribes.
***

ice baby had a popsicle dinner and went to her sled
on the steepy steep icelair she lived in during each winter
when the ice was her encyclopedia dinner.
she boarded her sled and pushed off down the mountainside she careened
as they call it, wildly careening rather carefully careening
she knew the way and even the sled knew the way, it was old hat
zigzagging thru huge cedar and pine trees past gigantic rocks
ice baby made it look easy. she glided to a stop and hung the sled under a shed
and her muckalucks went charging thru fresh thick snow several feet deep
*   *  *
the important blue boat bobbed updown awash in bubblebathwaves as the twins
loaded up the passengers on it and a sunken castle of sorts whose spires
reached from subaquatic depot of the tub with passengers in pretend tourist gear
affixed to the props, the blue boat, the castle, the minature salty old sailor,
the boat in a bubble fog and roar of dramatic licencse in re enactments
of all possibilities with 23 passengers and only deck space for three
they ride the castle off into the bubbles, the important blue boat
lands up on the monogramed towel near the door
*   *   *
baby baby bear was not small by a mile nor dumb as a brute
he was not great by dimension but he had time figured out
the smaller more tiny he tried to become it worked it worked, all goodfun
until as they say as they oftenmost should, baby bear saw his missing extra
babybearness shredding a nest at the top of tree, towering too much
for a baby babybear's reputation as they say, a binkie of pinecone, a blankie
 of goatbeardlichen he was not insignificant nor a cuddly posterchild for soap
he had a strangers egg in his paw when the lighting bolt lassoed him home
leaving mere baby bear  less innocent not to say larger in any regard
*   *   *
wild horses on a chartered tour bus of the great plains states, just easing
back in their swivel contraptions sippin alfalfa juice thru curly straws
they have the world at their disposal, but why dispose of the world when highway
just butters right over the land and rivers and mighty chasms, the wild horses
on r and r, exhausted, ready to unwind stick their necks out the bus windows
there isn't a tree for two hundred miles the sun is going down,
their hooves are so relaxed they fall off their legs and roll on the bus floor
they end up wearing each others socks when they stop for a break
looking at saddles in the shops and shaking their heads, wild horses.
*   *   *
the salty sailor woke up wearing his hammock under the nose
again, again, again but just in time to provide ones soy vases
to an actual walrus. being in his waters, it were best to grease the cogs with soy.
walrus went thru a good measure of soy in his fishy needs,
and he had extended family with extensions of other fauna and even planet.
the salty sailor was having a hard time with complexity away from his
sheer nautical prowess, which was partly hyperbole. it seemed that sodium
for brain fluid was not optimal. he began a dew diet of morning dew and
occasional late afternoon dew after scrutinizing the mildew.
he seemed to have utterly forgotten Walrus, staring at him for the past five minutes.
the salty sailor slapped his noggin and remembered his Cargo
excused himself from the ever unruffled Walrus and went to stir the lobster farm.
*   *   *
woodpecker found a new place to sharpen the beak, on a rock.
the rock was in the yard of the sherrif, but what should he care? he's at work. so
woodpecker begins grinding on the rock . he draws things. they look funny.
best of all, his beak is sharp. next day, a badger come up to woodpecker by the
rotten fence company.  how about we go fishing for termites? they bought some
angel hair pasta, eight bags of marshmallows, a zipline, and some bobbers.
woodpecker nearly implaled a rhino on the way out of the store, his beak was almost
too sharp. fortunately, the rhino was wearing his pendleton blanket collection.
they found an enormous tree, and woodpecker did a quick piece of drilling
into the termite metropolis. they came furiating out with every curse word in the
termite tongue, clutching their young, mealy and unsypathetic as they were.  they
made a truce. they gave them their collection of mildewed seeds which was legendary
among the citizens of the woods who liked such disgusting vittles.
woodpecker used his sharp beak on the seeds, and badger had his share put in a
looking glass handle, as an oddity.
*   *   *
post modern dolphin yoga, and better places forbidden to humans
but not to kids and assorted children as they create the ocean of deep space
using informed delicate materials, random mysteries, indelible vocals,
other things with eyes inside their ears, we think to smell, re-orientated.
topsy turvy poetry, understanding life in giggling pods racing along never alone
in others hearts using sonar to kiss is not uncommon
oceans full of waiters bringing waters glacial cold to re-invent the ceiling floor.
planets in raindrops on smiles of dolphins
just for you three girls, poetry is there and around all, loving.
*   *   *

sweet dreams on little girl minds
in peaceful homes protected by no jets
but the love of father and mercies of mother
big girl dreaming,
thousand idea flashes per moment*   *   *


the power you have sleeping
unleash on future tangled now

written Mt Tabor 
XMAS 2015
in 2 days, for Mesa, Isis, and Surreal, my daughters

Omne vivum ex vivo,

 Omne vivum ex vivo, Latin for "all life [is] from life."

tango spoon galvanize
untwist beat blackball
stop bland tonight
bay mileage deep
tip disdain seven
corrosion tollbooth pop
divisive honey maxim
express devalue must
silver antecedent companionship
bushing formality recent
calorie converge pinwheel
posterior dramatics venial
spiral crab springboard


dada poetry, auto-dictionary technique
1-22-17

tardegrade crater

island of women, born of palladium
& iridium
motes from remote
conjectures, birthing
tourist visas for the tardegrades& their vats of
oil, sending humanity
off to college
or roughnecking deep solitude leaf storms,

thank you catastrophe
from the bottom of my unfathomed fatherly
love

1991

                                french ivy skeleton

twenty thousand invisible phantoms
goldly oblivious to aether
which enwrapt their community sweet with oranges,
summer flocks, immortal unbottlelessness
enough for 20,000 plus undiscerned
phantoms to indulge color but briefly
though not having flushed semblace of matter
for Aeons their entrails had carnival
ferris wheel mishaps that pulsed pastoral.
 having agreed to play large scale twister
over hill stream& tree, to chameleon some envy
some envy caught remains to stay
the crimson leaves

                 1991

rooting mixture

duty to feel, to renounce, gather bread crumbs& sup late morning wine; bemoan
the speed with which we digress telepathically to reinvent the globe. shoo, bedbugs.
find new entymologists. i swear disbelief at the ground holding me true. i'd like to see
through a human heart, if i could locate one.
   i look into finely lit waters and clutch the truth of murkiness, its pearl. descending to
mean what i say, horizons blend and echo a garden of faded stars. cube wheeled jokes
and clipped wings entwine the page of this sacrosanct temple, penitent and weak.
propriety is propped sideways, and duty sleeps a fat poet. value, ideal; the stomach
knows time a friend to progressively avoid.
     limbs stretch to orchards unworked by dull fingers that point Earth toward home.
woods fed of their own fire, learnings that preach to trees with root cramped toward
water. i am the number counted. if my spine would curve distinctly upright,i'd feel more
than just the next opposable thumb, and plant my soil deeply, cupped in the folds of
a woman.
     newly discovered nations test the brow of solitary moments, pointless as beauty's
run-on sentence, unfolding a roll of film from a constellation, an open sphere. (1992)

summer hammocks

only you reaching the import of my heart
redeems the greenish stamps accrued,
enough to buy a celestial shanty
carved from carnelian precipices,
nestled dormant phoenix eggs
&convergences of delight
reminiscent of
summer
hammocks


8-16-12

cedar no match

wreathed in desert sage, i swam the narrows.
beads were overly burdened
about the worries i silver along the mines of my temples.
to gain the side of the other,
attempts were breaststroked.
from the heights, comrades jeered
good natured
until she who wastes took my notice
with a sunk log against the heart.
cedar is no match for sulfur mixed with perfume.
i matched the deep with a sleep
most unsteep. i brew
at the bottom, and she watches.

8-11-12

vostok 3

what is down there: uniforms,
corny forms, you need forms, firm yonis,
yogi farms, drill bits, spill mitts,
sigh tests, exact blunders, drum ah,
ho hum foods, boozed petri pirates,
guest limitations, guestimation stations,
canned heart, stern Ohs, instant No Ledge Ax.
axis pewter, goiter barrons,
inept opera sieves, eva per One,
marmot worship, downy synclines,
boots to the chin,
bleak flask skip eggs,
afro zen juice colored yellah
blue white flue
portal chasm echo chambers

1=21=12

vostok 2

poem lake, trapped in a million miles of ice,
no one wants to drink you.
mammoth swill,
rink of unchampioned neanderthal,
what pole shift entered you in the dustbunny races to solitude?
with sigh interest accumulation,
stock in vostok plummets by the bit of drill
fracking pristine imagery.
the high men above break thru,
slurry of antifreeze in shot glasses the size of oil drums
never doubt the russians
innured cold warriors
dauntless in dumb stupored intelligence that tells them
riches tapped, arctic caps,
microbial vials and battery socks
one can't wade the same waters twice
no one wants
to think
we exist undisturbed, pangea, pandora,
gaia sedated in a slough of frost
freezeframe sampletons
simpletons....what a speck speaks,
glistened unseen

2-21-12 portland

so do you

you've got all
of your clothes
on so do you


1-13-13

syncline body

body, bawdy not. aptly dismayed,
reconnoiter Avenuede. purposefull,
long pastel striped socks
hot yellow tank top
syncline curve smooths
(what makes regular smooth seem a
flaxen black hole,
consumed manifestations tugged thru time
fingers lobes thighs inner mouth
&hair thick worldliness,
                          silverstreak nebula
rarefied airs envelop the bed area67
best honored not more in
inference, fur dance
mammal mates we certainly
paw snort& position the allured
oh my, oh my.

                                             
1-21-12 s.e. Portland Oregon

finger tips

pens versus swords in what context
thought nadia salerno-sonenberg while slicing onions
in aspen and more
bows versus bullets
in different magazine packets
aprons versus tool belts
pull back the hammer with your metaphor
enough is enough
we can give ourselves up with the onion
but the satire is flat and full of nails


9-12-13 se portland

lynn's boy blue

blues from and of the bottle
has hand on throttle,
choke is handy when cooking with gas

laid up, spent, busted open.
repooperating. jimmy
saw the river on fire

before her name was oxygen.
feed the cabin a log of beer.
our hero's gauze trailing crutches

run a showbiz buzz gauntlet,
take out their cutlet
from what's left to view

drink tickets take token solace on his shelf at dale's
good to be loved when you're down
hear! it is a blue sound that heals

our yellow green edges

lucy fir

firs facing the sun
(frost lives where left unmet

truckthing painted in lichen
horses circulate the sky

over frozen grass field
isis on buddy and mesa on coco
round& round

all faces the sun
some point at


1-13-14

last dip in the pool

mourn no hart

little light weaned stem of blood as night prowled
urban utopia dismantled by barbaric unfree unspeech
poet throat civil servant neck good dude life, cut
dirty war brought high reveals low men mean dumb filthy proven
city unkind some sleep in brambles for warmth
wear chains meant for dogs around the neck and flag capes spit-soiled
many lightning bolts bounced off such dense malice
before two slain lives drained on light rails sigh.
not a moment lapse see exploiting explorers walk
stilts carnage foliage a carnation for menos incarceration
woe a den on tracks sealed in peril
dark lots warned storms blot as right erred more
frequently fervent in fascist features disfavored famously
to murder is wrong and to murder wrongly is worse
clouds of crows ate sad death sky yet flew away off free speech wind
economics don quioxte the climate young scared teenage girls
defense musters as animals free must when devalued
intent indignant unflinching vulnerable venerating in retrospect reflex
a community binds undone becomes one
one voice out of three thrives poetry carves chance a totem pole buried safe
some eyes love closed frail vessels the bee stings long blocked
mourn no hart when stags are made trash
their vandal still cursing under concrete cloaks of conscience
mullet maned derranged maniac monster not wooden but split.

last month of page views, super cool internationals!

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anti word shackles

snippet tiidbit deletion additions redacted

*  *   *
the nest gets bigger every day as the bird shaped movie star
takes every twig from the tree until only a toothpick
holds up the daydream he has made
a definition of unsustainability look like a cakewalk rigged with cakes
the cakes go every direction one can imagine
it is a real mirage
the nest glows with frosting, the diva has a party of one
its huge. he goes to work, and escapes as the salty sailor
he puts the nest in storage in a cloud
he finds the boat over where the water starts
he gets in the boat named after his favorite storm and grinds up the starter
his anchor is encrusted with valentine candy and seals
don't want to let go----they're heavy enough to sink us!
he reekingly cries in overstatement deluxe.
the actual Poseidon intervenes,
arriving on a seahorse named dolly with flames of nostril exhaust.
the sea lions consider taking on the lord of the sea
and say nope by flipping away with candy powered flops
the salty sailer gives Poseidon a hug
as the god recoils from his lacquerd smell of Land
as the ship clears the harbor the salty sailor swells up like a pufferfish
connected to a pneumatic machine run by ocean power
the sea says hello to the sailor
another day making dolphin jokes and carving narwhale tropies
*   *   *
sleeping in a sweet pile of kittens
a kitten so small
it got buried and lost
the mama found it and took it aside
with little licks
it was all better
it mewed and had milk
life made it happy
it slept and got carried
it never opened its mew in anger
it left it in the bottom
of the pile under the sweet sisters
and brothers it stayed warm with in their relativistic
digression toward modernistic analogies
involving non kitten philosopy
and cute trite tactical purrs
a kitten so small
it found a lion's share
*   *  *
angelfish eating daffodil salads, how random.
they're everywhere these days, the salad palaces we call them.
around every fishbowl on every street in american random.
raccoons try to say hello to the angelfish
but of course, don't get eaten or mauled was the golden rule
under the big dark rock. more dressing for the salad!
the bitterness calls for angel-honey
next time, give the raccoon a chance
*   *   *
skunk and toad and sallymander went on a rollercoaster
made of a a leaf stitched to a pine needle
it didn't work they waited to frolick to no avail
but had a great philosophical discussion
on the best kind of weather: dry, or wet.
toad says i love windy weather when i'm around skunk
skunk says i love wet weather to keep toad from looking like a gross rock
sallymander says i love weather whether weather seems or knots
and made the rollercoaster real
it was called The Seasons in a dream before the machines took over
and grew the nature all down