Ridicule facade

  

Felony butter thickens as the verdict churns, I cat nap in a cemetery

Away from it  as possible

Cheap flags still adorn lost plots after the bbq tradition digests days later 

Guilty as charged 12 jury say 

Spin that, Republicans

34 felonies not 33, not 6, not One

Would One Felony be less toast for election butter it's so unfair 

Outside the later pub, film continues to coagulate tedium into a product one can snarf at home 

Melodrama with 100 in safety union vests, vans full of lights and cords 

A water truck floods the street

A helper hand sprays with a pumper what that doesn't glisten 

The night always comes, only fake wet 

Barricades and cops let a bus thru 

A camera boom in a lift rusts 

It's easy to mock, mock a million ways over, I know the guy who wrote the book 

Schlock with no twist always comes, yoyo follows string, there's no angle just fake butter flavor to distract us from unpopped GMO

Heavy petting in the netflux neon 

Be a good consumer 

Don't talk in the theater living room we'll create from a filthy street dusted off with overflowing garbage an embellished constant 

Making come go  

day trucks away  

___ 

Deeper inside the come

Motive plays pool, no lifeguard

I'm moss on the wall looking for spray 

Dessicated eyes view a new party of four 

Take the table 

Women half the age of the guys 

Five times as young 

Her midriff compensates for his sausage locker and middle aged mustache 

The other guy I know but we don't make eye contact

It's less withering than I relate 

Blind date or not good luck pal

Time to catch bus I put on my large backpack, my paunch in reverse 

My head newly shaved I chase the youth lingering and ration my change 

Would it sell probably story within story wrapped just so, tattooed peck on cheek 

After a few probably

The table closest a too young woman ties her t shirt in the back to heighten appeal, she wanted no attention, but not to be neglected  

___ 

The kids scream like their skin

Is being flayed, it's a merry go round 

They'll remove it soon 

Upgrades to install a skate park 

That'll allow actual flayed elbows knees and chin chiseling 

5 million in new features 

Well where will the off leash dog shit 

Where the stolen car do donuts at midnight 

These are the things my paunch digests with unfair news  

Hell Recover (2024)

  

It was the war to end all warring of the poor on the rich, 

We sold grandmas china next door to Anzac

And watched Captain Sky in our Victorian mansion of Yesterday, 

The violin lessons closeted with the mop.  

I made collage from newspaper fodder about Iraqi Desert Freedom, 

We marched in respectable sweatshop clothes in the city with thousands, palliative, cathartic. 

In the Dalles, the church wanks honked at Grey Panthers on the corner by the post office, surveilled. 

Our daughters rebels at heart, insulted God at Colonel Wright, teacher said, not reciting the Pledge. 

Hell recover. Gitmo pyramids upper right hand corner cover his shame at the incident. 

Father-in-Law, a mortgage interrogator, won Vietnam but not carte blanche to run raids on our home, we watched another movie. 

The river drowns the petroglyphs, she who watches eats popcorn. 

 ___ 

Nostalgia, invented by Satan in 1911, surplaced Satire as the leading form for dinnerware molds, until Dresden firebombed the allies in 19fortywhatever. Radio raised $75 million dollars for zNistslgia in 1945 when the atom bomb made Satire nap until 1980, when Reagan began Why I Auto banking with Saddam, his Oil Paramour. Finally, Nostalgia for Nazis and Japanese sex dolls won our tiny hearts again around 2010, using purt Bush, Obama, part Clinton and Trump brain segments. It was gloriously continued to re-issue Adam and Eve and the Oligarch Pharaoh Quintet. I hope you enjoy, it's our only station.

bloggod at 10:12 AM

Blot 6 (2018)

  

Dirty plate tectonics

the crash of cosmic bustubs

Overworked cogs shatter cohesion

Rippling suburban brick tombs, out spill

Living zombies fingers edible sporks

The wave of our future

Self consuming neighborhoods,

Fracked of virtue, left as a ruptured coccon

Or spent planet

Said the oilygarch picking his teeth

Wih a baby wishbone,

       attached to San Andreas

Area fundraisers

        for planet killing swine

A cuss of justice (2003)

 woke up in a stupor and my knees weren't even bent

I broke up in a giggle, my jello so content

I'd wore down all my morals till  our soul was soundly spent

   But I couldn't no I wouldn't say please

I hushed up and said grace, gravy on my face

I bashed the party growers, a hardon for a mace

I did my part and meant it when I laid the jail to waste

   But fer the photo I did not say cheese

I yessired all the officers and pleaded my case

I drew upon old charm pool, Gibraltar, and my base

I told you when we handcuffed I was hardly chaste

   But for the show you were good to go

I splintered up my hangnails, made a picture frame

Glued back my eyelashes, sheltered all the blame

I spoke a long lost fabric and feigned a rabid shame

   But I vote not to let my leaves all blow

I felt a lowly vermin and justified the trap

Chewed off my best credit, tourniqueted my SAP

I jettisoned the headache and did a victory lap

   But I couldn't purge the file

I dwelled in abject entropy, sponsor keeping dibs

Counted out my morsels as they took my tidbits in

I brung my story to the cave and hollered Drinker's Lib

   Then took notice of a big hairy trial

I downplayed all the romance, good times gone as god

I ronnyraygunned memories, said listen to da flood

I swore they were my floatie, my duckie, and my blood

   But I didn't mean to mean what they need

They shot me to a forum, put me on a chair

They voted all the dunces inferior at our fair

They falsified my vapidness, called me on the dare

   And i spread out all my plumage like a bird

They voted me a heathen a king and a fake

I abstained all over the tally, a consumate rake

All all agreed on one thing and that's thou auto forsake,

   But the object of our scorn was divided

I plead the cuss O justice, O freedom and the dunce

Cuss if yer not all of them, Just one you will be once

The game so tidy neat, my football needs no punts

    But ya love the drama runback that's provided

  2003  

the Dalles, Portland 

At da Daddy dumps

Found a dad in the trash

Good as new, just some eggshells on their sleeves, covering up a tattoo

Found a father at the dumps 

Still trying to fix the water heater 11 years expired, coil on back order from Taiwan under siege 

Found A daddy lost in some lost alley in a lost state forgetting what nation it rebelled against, or for, forgot lost 

Found a nation build a state 

Dig a pit mine, pony, walk a straight circle

It leads out of here to daddy outlet 

Just change the incandescent for LED 

Get the joke before it yolks on Vous 

Found some violent beans in the garbage non disposal, farting violently 

Guess I should take a sabbatical like landlord to Thailand for some r-n- r

Entrails of future centerpiece

 

I bought you a book of poems

Just now, I'll have to send you a photo or maybe only this.

They're from William Stafford, Kansan and Oregonian 

Maybe you read him in class years ago. 

Page 72 I opened it to, waiting for the bus. I went in the used bookstore in  search, looking for Marge Piercy 

The store had so mucho books I could barely walk, see my goal. 

I only had a minute, I grabbed Will. 

Like new, new to me, no edges dog eared. I'll spoil it nonetheless as you by almost nature disregard or ignore my missives.

As a toddler you'd seldom cry, but at lunch or dinner, entertain the family, eating slow as possible. Some like it cold. 

I'll get there, 3 ,4, 5, 6 as older sister, younger sister move on to dessert. Save some for her, finish. 

The world made for your schedule. 

Not the victim of neglect, or poor cuisine, the centerpiece floral bouquet. 

Fed water, you'll perk up. 

When you were 14,  15, 16, you ran about the city at your own accord. Not some myth I've invented, running away from home leads to problems of our own making. 

Running away, most do it, a rite of passage into the entrails of future.

Just find the string, bread crumbs, follow them back, ok? 

Malarkey kazoo

 Some will abide anything history can crayon on a toilet paper roll as poetry. 

It's not equating, as President says, dusting off his wag finger. 

Malarkey kazoo, and I usually really like kazoo.

If you're the arbiter of taste, I'm the unstoppable tongue meeting the inedible truth. 

Wagging finger makes the nails longer 

BTW don't wear it out 

____ 

My box of dusty folios on my Corvette, 

I just forgot to send them to archive 

At graceland. His boxes, in his bedroom 

Just memorabilia to sell, pay down the dingdong debt.  

33 thousand mutilated corpses of children and women 

Does no one say collateral damage anymore? Everyone misses a target or two in the dust of war.  

Towing yachts away yesterday,

Building breadless docks tomorrow.

That's equitable.   

I know the difference so why doesn't the rest of catholic america 

An arrest warrant these days doesn't limit vacation plans

Our bibi bib overunneth with overfeeding clustermush 

It makes wall street strong in the face of formula shortages

Milk the outrage overflowing

seven day war silliness,  

Binkie  

SE PDX 

Grape Nuts Sour

 

"Microplastics found in every human testicle in study

Scientists say discovery may be linked to decades-long decline in sperm counts in men around the world"

         ------the Guardian

Also, a few pennies in the sofa crease.

I found the news appalling .

Buried in arrest warrant concrete,

Next to a burnt helicopter 

With its keffiyeh messed, wrapped around lingerie hush money that our supreme exemplar can't out-gag. 

The bits of milk jugs, 

spermatogenesis rodeo. Look, there's a wheat penny.

Rub it shiny. 

Biding time

 

Shooting great pool, so what the 

Picnic in the cemetery

Made my back hurt, simply sitting

On ground leaned against a big stone

Respectfully after reading a few 

Internet fables

A can of beer allowed 

No dogs, it's a cemetery

Better than the free range park

I won't list the entitled in-every-direction nonsense 

I'd prefer a somber quiet, chowing down a pita 

Ajar, feta, kalamata and pickles

A smidge of oily hummus and salt 

Good enough to die for 

Good to wash down with 57 year old Dregs 

I'll find humor or do a rubbing, 

Copy on my back have you some chalk and paper 

I don't want to disturb you 

Just being a cloud 

SE Portland 

Tresses pebble scoured (2018)

  

Willow root, last hold grips 

The bank mane tresses pebble-

Scoured in asteroids of motes

Hurled in a soup of energy

Grooting and grafting the muds blood

Sifting good nest of minerals

Time's dragon suckles moment tail

It bleeds fire in the post ice flow

As branches storm ripped

Float unanchored in ordered chaos

To find some niche get stuck

Collected to send forth our place mat

Fingers of fiber, life claws

From the shell all eyes and ruby

Silica tail it swishes moon away

In a pattern of dark scales

Unprinting the dimensions by rote

Until the wooden heart shoots green 

2018 

Outhouse (1989)

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

What frost heave tosses (2017)

 winter feathered sketch

today a sketch,  a balk to the park;

get oxygen moving, give muscle some spark,

   towering trees ice tipped and holy,

  fog overflowing horizon a bowl we

sup slowly, no hurry bestirring

that work past word's lark, demurring

   to leave a limb so warm clung

   to sing rare hollers, never'fore sung

flying most prescient, tail feather serves

over the tennis court, winter unnerved

   squirrel eats fir skin, there high by the sun

   warming a paunch and nuts by the ton

planting ice needle drip heat feeds the mosses,

stellar jays hunting, what frost heave tosses

 

 

Mt Tabor

12-28-17

This Land is Yo land

  

straight out of cherokee county, a honky named joad

in a jalopy 64 running on drip gas down the 66

got my handbill got my nine got a wagon full of kin

i can see the promised land in tech9color

or grey black and white footage from the upper balcony

dense with promoter fog and reefer madness

the ax handle goons and strong swan song stutter studs

in a hooverville compton or peach filled swamp 

peer pressure or preening solid rarity  rocks the house in gilded glory

of violent opposition and instigators 

sugar boils the night into what the day's dough fails to feed

the cube rolls hard and snake eyes play a better preacher

opened to being there if goosebumps sag the performance

one can sink lip in solidarity this land is Yolanda

unless the fleece polices the first speech on a trail of tears tour

ill be there i'll be ill the handbill be unfingered 

fill those units quotas but lock felicia out

when the peckerwoods come knocking show'em the glock

mr block get back to the squad and hot rod it home

like a king on bling beating down the riot with words

just words and a strong ma and a death row left behind

full of pie in the sky pool parties while contracts contract smaller

until the pits are armed and the armpits bear cheery stones

taking the easy good fertilizer aid 

pitted bro on bro that's how the bible go, till it is gone

sez the preacher and the slave as one

goad the goed down the road and feeling bad is mighty nice

when lard and flour are the spice of life

your land is occupied Lando CaliRisen and the deathstar

warms up on the pass over punch down into purple drank

bedbugs flip worthless script in the honkytonk lie bank

what can eye get for sixty three cents but a boogie down

seduction for populism or a land free of the brave

the joads in the hood and pistons in the poetry unmoved

steaming open rustbelted hearts where engines once roamed

two movies diverged in a woods so we owned the owl

the hoot the loot and all that can't compute on a camel's eye

threading more my lie pie fulla birds that own the tiered tries

in crust we trust

 in sod we bust  

1666-present

 

                                         

sometimes shanty has too leanings (2018)

  

flung about on seemingly ordained orbital whims

wrung about that (like most else

sung ode to odd intimations, not intimacy

dung clung to the ladder up the siding on success

among heathen my brethren

brung my own owner and her downer loaner

mung beans all that inhabits my pantry

slung the shanty in fact fiction brick and diction 

2018

Two cents for nine

 they kick the ball, they run back

the ball, they grunt scream and collide,

watching their portfolios

behind concussions coincidental with overvalues of money.

symbolic hurt,

sponsored by resignation of inches across a map,

a field, oceanic territory, and one's worth

depleted shells of desperation

as american snipers are hailed

journalists jailed

and speech plays the snail, escargone

over freedom sensibility palate

dipped in butter of remorse

the only way to stomach the headlines

permissible in mecca by lash and sword,

and nra cowboys at the box office

where the minks are russian

and the muskrats take confession and give their

two cents while taking nine 

Nest ridden harpy song (2018)

  

Heart pines in ye wooden keep

Caer lined in ogre acorns three tonne each

Blown bout on drafts fire fears

Cold oak slaps iron-melted

Blood steeps nether retracted stairs,

Times cape unravelled

Bye threads of silkwyrm dragons

Nest ridden harpy songs demolish

Iced o'er moat

As crosswyrd puzzles furrough yon

Zero's brow a fathomless prow

Knots dreamed ocean tresses hullbrushed

Rivets star reflecting badges

Witch watched wishwash heaving

Havens no hart fog ventures 

2018

Stretchmark smiles (2018)

  

Washed up strippers with stretchmark smiles

Broken sidewalks run fer miles

Play the don't look game

Play the no cover game

Play dead possum it ain't hard

Cashed out workers lets grind their eye

Token patrons make a savory pie

Play the don't eat game

Play the short sheets game

Play human you're just lard

Trashed trousers no kneepads

Mashed muscles no gonads

Game the same gain

Game the blame fame

Game animal taxidermy card  

2018 

The toll (1987)

 The bell sounds a highpitched dingding and the boxers

Begin bouncing as if on a bed of coals, of all 

Their gestures a stony eyed stare is most intense

As they lunge and jab with fists

Trying to inflict damage on their brother, at

Worst a blackened eye split lip or concussion while in

Tennis, the man with perfect eyesight is

Called a liar, such the civilized game for socialized

Folk who prefer drinks with electrolytes to suds

From a cup

They seldom leave the court with dignity intact,

No pulled groin, though they often retain their jobs

Even after skunking the boss

The matador smiles and flirts his cape over the skull

Of the steaming bull, brushing aside at

The best possible moment, the cape becomes heavy 

With blood not his own, more are hurt in the

Stands from rose thorns, but if that horn

Finds flesh then it is curtains for machismo and what

About the mortgage, what am I doing way down

There by the tolling of a bell where the 

Toll gets took 

1987

Lawrence, ks

The rotten mane (2018)

  

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 Tyrant's Tirades and more of the Same.

12-14-17

Mull it over (2017)

  

let me mull, mull, mull it over, under the table

spend the daze, daze, dazed on fables,

give him rope, rope, rope made of sable,

cheer bad tweets, tweets,  tweets smelling of stables

ride 'em slow, slow, slow as a bullfrog

tie him right, tight, righty snuggems as a dull hog,

fat him fine,  fine,  fine with salty time

pepper his sass, sass, sass with more mulling wine

go poke, poke, poke it spinal, check trichinosis;

see the k, g, b------that's GOP's hostess;

feed it back, back, back in their dacha mimosas:

while we mull, mull, mull it round on wanted postas;

     let don steep, steep, steep  simmering hell

     let 'em rot, rot, rot in warranted cells.

2017

Cackle (2018)

 Crowbeak talon henbane potion

Wormy webs slithering motions

Bristled hackles

Barbed wire shackles

Moonbeam withered shrieking cackles

Ghoulish eyeball entrail goulash

Steamy calabash gutted squash

Skulls wingy

Firebats clingy

Dark sweat swearings gross& stringy

Mold heart christened sweets

Werewolf's gristle treats

Red syrup swallows road's very way

Crutches stilt a morass of gray

Rotting sand hourglass display

Dismembered slurry

Warpig trough curry

Landmine handshake buzzsaw treaty

Civilian loins coins and soul's property

Demon clergy raging meaty

Spine cracking skeletal icy chill

Slabs featureless fill iron grill

Lest maggots hidden

Lend protein unbidden

Off flies vultures risen

 

2018

Held (2018)

  

The waves of ire

Land, land hard, weaving undone

Into beaches of

Sunset gold, gold

Eyes prize, seize

And can't hold,

Hold. 

 

2018 

Stonemason asst.

Deeper out (2018)

  

Sandy river oasis stone boulders

Families littered pleasantly along or in

The water, cool enough from mountain

Birth, glacial cradle rushes

From thin air caves

To nourish fernfilled woods

Falafel and romaine salad picnic

Time to.kiss the silty bottom

Feet clear step deeper out

Deeper out colder until

Only swimming keeps head above, among

Air breathing lip animals 

2018

Stark street sleet (2017)

  

here comes ice, silver-sealing sky ceiling

sprinkle blast clean, stark street kneeling,

   under the awning, yvonne in her box;

   streets now white, stark school of knocks

rap tap napping --------her cardboard door,

ice gets his beak wet in the neck of the poor

   burger bag litter, all soggy with sleet

   silvered sky ceiling, sideways indiscrete

blowing fine ice dust from two miles above

yvonne's eyelids fluttered their doves

   butterfly kissing the cold that could bill

   there on white stark street, intractable 

a sojourn to cheek hill, the ice near belabored

transfigured our landscape around old mount tabor

2017

Went Bust West

 July 1991 bloggod

Was "best new poet in town"

In Willamette Weeks annual "best' issue

Brad Tyer my pal

Wrote me up all good

More recently he was Editor of the

Texas Observer

Before cell phones

Before computers

Before best went bust west

NRG and Dan Raphael

Published that poem whattsitcalled

I best remember, yep 

2018

tagteams (1999)

 

reasons and excuses

seasons and crucifixes

words are good trouble

send me these, on the double

po-lice and senators

burglars and creditors

sharing a pizza pie

while nukeing earth's 3rd eye

good moms and holy men

never tire of supporting them

their community base is strong

thru profits from the Hall of Wrongs

sight-see the warzone

(fertile thoughts were wince sown)

here on the mainframe

the reference point is our brain 

1999 Klickitat, Wa

Swale Creek

bloggod at 4:04 PM