Lenny (8.07)

Lenny loved lines,

licking limes

lynching mimes and

munching mutton at all.

Trevor took two,

telling the truth,

ticking time like

Lenny’s lines and limes.

Sally is a skank.

Covers (10.20.10)

Suppose this handle

found its way

past script of all the downing fog

entered the tomb

of Prince Forol

and slipped beneath his skull

a piece to grip while he all sleep ventures through the gate of ore

sparkling dull

kerosine to fuel this dream

a path to burn footsteps of redeeming value

gentle in this first intake

a partial problem

a hemorrhage

falling like rocks cast down from the heavens

where goddesses watch their spouses in a righteous envy

take not a ponder session from my house

leave me be

leave the treasure you though was not

for now it belongs and takes root

underneath my bed

Usually my head

Chin on a Keyboard (10.19.10)

freed

grateful

heroine

drive

hurdles

nit

chairyl

holiday

Allergies (10.18.10)

o that I had a thorn-tipped tongue

with which to settle each itch that come

roof of my mouth a flea-bitten desert

raging with this arid monsoon

each nostril converted to oozism

a humidifier defied by truth

futile extents to bother the box

only left to lift the level

spatial feats that dwarves can't beat

weeps due to no sorrow nor joy

one day long

barely covers one long day

mopped aside

like microscopic carci

Earth's pesticide

why vanquish me

a plea

send down a pillar of fire

rid us of this ragweed

where shall I go?

Away 3 (10.12.10)

Castaways

Virgins they

Maturation lost at sea

Sand between

Under each

Over two

Peninsula to populate

Isle of the idle minds

Sharpened sticks and rounded rocks

Telling of better time

Educate and procreate

Neath our head

Nothing like bread

Poor excuse for substance

Something less than barely

Inanimate flesh

A landing strip for flies

Treasures in them

Smoke could not hide their sins

The adults never learned to wade or swim or look

Throwaway

Past the paling

Peelings of our organs

Trailings of our inners

Path for the preachers to cannibalize their members

Our ancestors invite chosen us for dinner

Tides that tell lies

Across the waves she waits

An innocent mother

Impossible

Yet this shall be her fate

Hideaway the records

Burning journals

Tearing diaries in five

So nobody noses around our sphere

This liberty we found

Has killed the offspring

Slain the future

Ruined us

Pass away

Away 2 (10.11.10)

a grave individual

hatred in his lines

not black

a past

truth etched into him

the whipped whip

those days

of ark report

light filled life

weathered fine

every time

siblings peace

all tasks complete

wandered off the beach

seas piled high

Away (10.5.10)

Stowaways

Clasping hands in praying

No more bayoneting

Cotton riding by

Through the air

Beneath grey sky

The doorknob

Turning from the otherside

In they storm

In we hide

Silent as the dead

Years and hours

Water and spit

We arrive at port

Runaways

A Mound In Olympus (8.07)

it was one man

a lone Grecian

he sat upon the stone

which sat upon the hill

it was as if a throne

which sat upon the hill

he lived many years

as much as Juno’s tears

he was a wrinkle

and then with a twinkle

he was a star

which shone upon the hill