New Orleans

hard to recover from a rough start stark with accomplishment mentally forgiven -- forsaken monster gently turns up the sheets, the upholstery sends out pleads that pierce eye sockets into cocked positions.

time alone never is or ends; pigeon dove thrashes near the ceiling fan; sky is white so its light never changes.

artist's eyes again avert our arrangement.

Haikus

Poem came crawling, 

loosely holding a fire toy

in wise-cracking teeth. 

--------------------------------

We are birds of prey

with intersecting flight paths, 

plummeting hungry.

---------------------------------

I came to you earlier.

What I mean by that is

you're heavy on my mind. 

Him feel it

Him feel it when 

she hooks in.

three shadows paint cursive

behind her attention

until Him's
blackness is all vine and coil

every place Him go, 

she crouches. 

she scratches Him's mirror

she tap Him's blue-ness
and pockets it 

in gallons. 

by the handle, 

Him lumber 

  Him kneel 

    Him feed
and she

and she

and she

Water

Today I stood under rain
and a man was naked

before me, and I 

was supposed to look?
Last midnight I taught

a man to split

time into seven segments

and this morning 

one named Time
spoke to me of goats 

and granite, enticed

me to choose my fate

from his palm. 

Another tells me he is losing. 

Another still, 

beside me lies, laughs, 

shifts eyes, turns 

palms over mine. 

And this afternoon, 

when the sky
unbucketed itself
And the river flushed 

harder, and filled

        harder

        all of it

was just water. 

(w/ 2 Matts and a Bailey)

Crossing over mad, 

age over ice

ignoring makes sad

the slice of life

the wayward drifting of leather

over oceans of asphalt

constantly striving for better

to a place that never has fault

the one and the two 

the edge of your kiss

the ledge what was provided

said you are young here it is

here is your life, an infinity of choice

that begs you to choose, yet will pleads be 

jagged. be broked on 

that precipice, half dangling

I choose what changes into songs that hurt

so they will be gone by the time they are better

and become the ballads of changing

they never intended to be

to be anything invokes the pain of division

my cells sing of oneness as our bodies are broken

Longing to lie along you, ignoring time and space

minute hand spirals while menut arms embrace

indifferent a las horas spent basking in your aura

and what drives me out 

of that presence wails

IS THAT THE END? 

IS THAT IT? 

weary, elastic breast of mine is clicking tighter

with every second hesitated

the saving made tighter by one flow

toward the heavy lung I want to land on

   Is that the end 

   Did Ulysses return home

   Can you see any other way
      but the cork of the pap

      of what was a miracle of ever open

         the new single of a New You

         the forced result of a masterpiece
a missing piece
10,000 miles away from me

for I am a coward, and I am a fool

I left you shattered, an orphan in Istanbul

Fragments of an opal, scattered in Constantinople
The light remains focal, and still I stay hopeful

that some comet will dust its majesty

upon the silver line

    between our deities and 

we will know god like

tin cans

and remember the can as only you and the 

electric drums if I could choose

it'd be the only move enough to 

keep moving, never cease

a rampant, ragged rain-soaked release
I'm the stain on the stocking (stalking)
of this stark white savage civilization 

for the name of a sorry creation.

And here comes the omen

And here comes the omen

  of what I wanted to believe in

And here comes the omen 

  of where I am 

And here comes the 

To speak honestly as Woman
from Plain Girl's frivolous frock  

is dreg-lugged warble is 

wood, smooshed on wet/rock. 

      And to spill out a poem (suggested)
      from throne of insolent BLARGHH
      is stuffing a pig til red-breasted
     of all good blunders of Marx.
Above all, to love you 

longing only for play in a pinch, 

turns that pulse of this new 

to frothing billow none in-clenched. 

And somewhere,  

on a green sea shore,
a blue whale bellows 

         -- himself no more.  

SPRING '16

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. ------------------------------------------

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"

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.

------------------------------------------

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.

-----------------------------------------

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.

------------------------------------

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??

dry air quick as she come we are out of there.