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