so daft in my grave,
a fresh-cut flesh-nut
slips & falls
this sleepaway cave
craved awake
on chords of light
through ancient rows
where I soak my cells
in the green serene
slurping gasoline
a break from those
unblinking
high beam
~eyes
this all-seeing dream
winked at the dogs,
into one happy hominid
inbred lizard
pyramid scheme
leeching trust in our neighbors
through vitriol labors~
as the wasp burrows
and borrows
bones for a wage
all voiced in the rage
of an old radio wave-
a low frequency stage
all watchin’ the cage
where the girls strut by
(they wanna man
with soft hands
an’ a hard heart
an’ a li’l doom ‘n’ gloom
with they vroomvroomvroom
from they womb ’til they tomb
because)
They,
forked tongues in our pale sunlight
as chemtrails fume
our foxhole plumes
an’ ‘em cuddle-demons watch us
through ’ar teddy bear cams-
an’ you ‘n’ yer hats ‘n’ specs
an’ me ‘n’ my boots & b***s
…checked ‘em fools
macked in they mags
with they backs in they bags-
(they got they claws in th’ kiddies
with ’ar goodies in they hoodies)
They,
a simulated stimulated
invisible reptile
legion-
a battle for earth
& sometimes when
the machines go down
I get stoned alone
while gassed or aghast
at the shape we’re in,
so grossed or ghost or
in like sin or
on like moss, or
a line of red
slithering on the sand
under my broken hand
murderous dance
all dazed & awake
’til a faith in snakes
can cough & quake
these buckshot
cross-eyed
wanderins’ “off”
far & away
it whets my beak
(so to speak),
with the infected blade
of a wet work
net worth
‘lectric stand
long for the cryptid-wind
from the babbling span
where attention peaks
over windows to the soul
for when the stars are right
and our prayers are set
we can hold our breaks
and hearts high at the moon
and howl & cry,
ye, we’ll weep
’til the slit of day
while sweeping for bugs
beneath the wounded sky
all bled & burnt
by shadows & milk
still slithering hope
to shape the land
with forgetful sand:
a footstep on the wind
chills forever
still slurping pangs
of soaring dream
through the green serene-
I climb on stomach knots
up through the grove
on crimson cords
of unseen light
along those ancient rows
through random
nutso ritual
I always grave ’em the slip.
Blood out.







