St. Augustine, FL
The core of me is in the sea;
It captures me and pulls on you.
Father calls "never turn a back to the ocean; the danger is high it will eat your blind side." The roar that approaches asks only to open a mouth that she can drain out of. She foams at The mouth to ravage her children. She foams at The mouth to cherish her youth. ------------------------------------------
Father calls "never turn a back to the ocean; the danger is high it will eat your blind side." The roar that approaches asks only to open a mouth that she can drain out of. She foams at The mouth to ravage her children. She foams at The mouth to cherish her youth. ------------------------------------------
Dame Water,
hold our messages please.
Tell them that Grit and Dirt
and all their underlings
have tumbled out of their skins
into the salty wind.
-----------------------------------------
Clearwater, FL
Calm and craftable,
Roy considers dying.
Somehow the incarnation both
of the wastebasket illustration
and the lunging dolphin statue
next door,
he teaches himself about
his own malleability.
Street qi gong
over the trash can
under a telephone number
in the sun
toward the bricks
shoulder straight
collar crooked,
he watches himself die
in the window pane
three times before
lowering his hands
and returning to the Starbucks
to shed even more layers.
Sun rolls over
Skyblue thickens
Dog leashes tug along to a
better sense of humanity.
The idea is that dog people
are good people.
But Roy gives no fucks by now.
He's ignored the appropriate
amount of questioningly indignant
faces of passing flight attendants
-- I mean scientologists --
to ascend to death for fun.
Now he is playing dead.
Roy's ghost
breaks upon us all
eventually.
-----------------------------------------
So the catfish and the bird dog
met each other by
tooth and tailbone.
A junction of swamp domestic
strung around a crown of
antlers and rose bushes.
Where are the berries?
Where are the riots?
When it all hurts and falls off
at the kneecaps,
comes apart by way of
moonlight thrush;
When the coyotes wail at the
sirens and blacken their
lights for the procession
of a buttery smile across
the night sky;
When the water is still,
not for lack of wading, but because
it's man made and
the gators are all busy being "molested";
When the underside of a gazebo
shimmers with street lamp dust:
a fraction of us all rages bezerk
thwops around our ribcages
and threatens to bound
through our skins from the inside,
just for the chance to come
together in a shriek or a shrine
for the purpose of power intact
for IMPACT.
WHERE ARE THE FUCKING RIOTS?
Mine is between my throat and my spine.
His quivers beneath his right
shoulder blade.
Hers just under the heelbone.
Some swimming the marrow.
Some buzzing the nerves.
Which of us will make the first cut?
My money's on the man in the red jacket,
sideways scowl and swollen eyebrows.
Who soothes him?
And why does he burn to begin?
-----------------------------------------
green awning, umbrella blondes
bikini resistance: on.
boys cringe against the sun
while occupied with each others
hands drawing and elasticizing
their own imagery for the purpose
of heavy lifting.
one year's worth of dreaming
scheming and sliding
and making up bent ideas and
skewed perceptions
like "How come blue pens aren't
as effective as black ones"
and "if they held the smoke in their left hand I wouldn't feel so attacked"
and "if they held the smoke in their left hand I wouldn't feel so attacked"
I am the daughter of caffein.
I am less focused now
but more deranged,
a malignant stone wall
of cornrows and boundless
entropic catcalls.
Say it out loud
Tear asunder the roof
from the hallway
and ridicule me above
the hanging plants
on the terrace.
sign your sound across the mantle. the lawn chairs will echo in reply the name of their chosen fertilizer. When everything jumbles together and peels itself away from the cartwheel against the noble will of gravity, circumlocution will liken itself to anything but downhill. Pop songs and ritual. If I had wings maybe my shoulders would stop itching. Humans are so fragile but humanity so brute-ish. fueled forward by hubcaps that resent their axles and tires that hate each other for daring to work together. The driver hates the gas and the gas feeds the children but starves their parents. And everyone hates Dad. Returning to the world of mindless symbols and quick sarcasm to round out the edge of what I don't understand about my own hands. ------------------------------------------------ Orlando, FL Blame it on the chemicals cartharsis is its own drug got to be alone something so natural come on too strong and stay too long. Lavish lifestyle of the bitch and blameless. bloody little monster beat you squeamish music falling out the mouths of tinsel rooves and tinsel towns.
sign your sound across the mantle. the lawn chairs will echo in reply the name of their chosen fertilizer. When everything jumbles together and peels itself away from the cartwheel against the noble will of gravity, circumlocution will liken itself to anything but downhill. Pop songs and ritual. If I had wings maybe my shoulders would stop itching. Humans are so fragile but humanity so brute-ish. fueled forward by hubcaps that resent their axles and tires that hate each other for daring to work together. The driver hates the gas and the gas feeds the children but starves their parents. And everyone hates Dad. Returning to the world of mindless symbols and quick sarcasm to round out the edge of what I don't understand about my own hands. ------------------------------------------------ Orlando, FL Blame it on the chemicals cartharsis is its own drug got to be alone something so natural come on too strong and stay too long. Lavish lifestyle of the bitch and blameless. bloody little monster beat you squeamish music falling out the mouths of tinsel rooves and tinsel towns.
------------------------------------------
Mount Dora, FL
Take me to the 414 set me outside a Wal-Mart store so I can watch a nation pass me by pass my time between their lips and tumble it under the wheels of their shopping carts. Nervous parents reaching through sidelong glances for post-expense cigarettes. Their children bounce around in the humid fluorescent. Tufts of grey plastic bags lined up and stuffed like fluff grids into
metal cages quiver and sway in transport.
Take me to the 414 set me outside a Wal-Mart store so I can watch a nation pass me by pass my time between their lips and tumble it under the wheels of their shopping carts. Nervous parents reaching through sidelong glances for post-expense cigarettes. Their children bounce around in the humid fluorescent. Tufts of grey plastic bags lined up and stuffed like fluff grids into
metal cages quiver and sway in transport.
-----------------------------------------
Cardboard for sleeping
cardboard for signs
cardboard for keeping
boxes of limes
cardboard for padding
cardboard for heat
My cardboard fulfills
all my needs on the street
cardboard for propping
or propelling the show
Cardboard, Oh Lord
of Life on the Road.
----------------------------------
Eustis, FL
Chapel hazards
halfway backwards
in some groovy curtains
of falling blossoms.
"labor on, son
be careful not to go too far" If I've measured it right my leisure denies the last living bird its dive. If we're living it right hypotheses ripen best under streetlight.
be careful not to go too far" If I've measured it right my leisure denies the last living bird its dive. If we're living it right hypotheses ripen best under streetlight.
------------------------------------
Call it a warning shot.
We were under the moon
and one florescent, brighter.
Me arced and cleaned
in his softness
Him roped and wedged
into mine. Sighing.
Eventually,
in the anticipation of each other's sleep
in the gap of two half-walls in the dew under the blackened moon atop the cardboard bed frame on the outskirts of a stockroom, Water. rip zip, tug boots socks where? roll bag WHERE??
in the gap of two half-walls in the dew under the blackened moon atop the cardboard bed frame on the outskirts of a stockroom, Water. rip zip, tug boots socks where? roll bag WHERE??
dry air
quick as she come
we are out of there.
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