Recalcitrant, a fossil hardened
Out of life's stew
It wore jeans to work they were stiff
Got called contumacious
Had to look it up after heel-kicking
A bust of nero into skeet crumbles
Looking for calcium in the mix
Pigheaded to the end
Which'd not begun depending on
Who gets asked, deep in the dig
2018
I need to bleach my laces
My combat boots all grim
Economy however faces
Budgetary shims
At level ground they appear sound
To parade upon the mall
Upon close inspection repulsion follow
Courtroom charcoals draw
Up near ankle all is tidy
The only rankled are the mighty
What soles real walk
It's corporate sidewalk chalk
Sooner later stitch unwind
I'll barefoot by the beach
Boss will give me gaza
After preaching out a speech
I need to glue my morals
For that I'll need a horse
Our kingdom is over barrels
Oil that powers hearse
My Sunday best for easter brunch
A parasol to thwart the rain
Cherry blossoms confetti visions
Leaving less I need explain
2024
Cody kicked his bucket
But I know knonothow, heard the idle chatter on the last bus home
A gas station guy on the counters other side
He was ringing up beers just yesterday
*
Bussing from the pool over in cheery blossom
Feeling not too bad for Thursday
There at the mall got on the grimnews, out of the mouth of Rene
*
He just die
Just like that
Another hard fact
Just like that
____
Probably the Covid I'd think, he was heavy, 40 in a wide orange vest
Smiling Colorado, a blond ole hick, said he knew
Nostradamus from his history class
Lived at the corn, the unicorn inn, said his nayburr near burnt it up,
He smiled and moved his big ballcap, rubbed his belly
tweren't a flu, twas mounting spew
*
He just die
Just a fact
No more alive
That's where he at
___
Sweating in the field there pump #9
Idaho family gotta make good time,
school starts up and dad's three jobs
Cody wipes his brow, sounds lots like mine
That's why I'm here on the worst damn road,
filling tanks
with petroleum
*
Back inside turn the slushy machine, 20 little cameras record the scene
A maskless montage of death on the go,
poor Cody poor Colorado, we all know
Life in a motel
so far from home, friends to all but close to none
Standing and breathing just hours close passed,
Cody lie still and none soon asked
____
Why we go
Just like that
Leaving no mark
Just an empty ball cap.
SE PDX
Saved two bees
Doing laps in the birdbath
That's my karma
.
Got on hand and knee
To clean our site
That's my karma
Dizzy circles
Around the locks
No tape, karma
Pro pacifist
Pro realist
That's my dharma
2018
born on boughs covering stone harmony hearths
wodan again grins
shakes silver reindeer rattle
cattle mill about stout doors
baby has no use for
as per powerful wont godan giveth thrice
willful in measure to cub size
weaned on mead and teethed on henbane spoons oak
strangling wyrm oz was easy pleased
throwing new scales to sky
his placenta ygdrasill three roots
world tree limbs four stags forage
no den no zen woe then zeus when
eagle-tested one
won another heart riven where thunder fears
unborn strewn for raven mockery assimilation
wolf swallowed good son goddown
born deep browed
chisled soul stone seer
cutting time for hearth food
Aeon dust swirling
in grey gazes bent
6-4-17 Portland Oregon
the old seed bread thrown under the laurels
turns to soil frosting as
onepartoxygentwopartshydrogen
resembles rain in isolation extreme,
from what is read
about that once prolific phenomena,
before droplets in general
were criminalized
and cattle with tubes attached
carry milk straight to the sewer,
as wilbur has a buttermilk bath
and spiders write ads for dirty epitaphs
in the rafters
at the processing plant tossed
out of view from the interstate nearby
5-20-2020
SE Portland
___
"The dart is set up for virginitee;
Cacche whoso may, who renneth best lat see."
– Geoffrey Chaucer
The Canterbury Tales, The Wife of Bath’s Prologue. Virginity is seen a challenge. The prize is set up for virginity, the Wife of Bath says. Catch it whoever can and let’s see who wins it.
___
"Her conscious joy her tail declared"
four hart in a stream owned by tomorrow
whose factory-sluice death runs cold their marrow
three eagles gnaw salmon killed off by tycoons,
ten aeons hence, one mushroom-cloud june,
storm clouds are canned, come popping from nodes
on digital whims and oligarch codes
nine wolves deep cave resting, prowling nocturnal
five winds sub-arctic, hell cats primordial
cubicle glacier, our snowshoe of speed
runs factory precision on table spread greed
a billion tonnes calving but who really counts
our personal souls droppings: a whopping one ounce
floating past gods, their form in the doe
our human waste frozen and nowhere to go
2017
Portland
