23 Mar 2014, 6:21pm

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Writing some kind of code for my life

(We are the champions)

History’s joggin through a park
I wanna take this Saturday off
And fuck you out of doors with our
Clothes nailed to a stop sign
Marigold stem in your teeth while you tell me about
Your adulation for Freddie Mercury and his porn mustache
I have to confess, I love it too
Although his suspenders and hairy chest genuinely bother me

What kind of life will we have left
After Freddie Mercury is gone
His spirit, the sounds of Queen on the radio
And what can we do but keep forgetting
We’ll have to turn up the dial this spring
To be sure we still know the lyrics
I can feel your sunburn all over me

13 Mar 2014, 6:43pm

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Archeology (10)

Octavio Paz, or a double flame

With Dennis the Menace, and clean sheets
I did not think of you would undress me yet
But you did
You figured me out

Look at me for hollering at the candles
This castle is a big ruinous featureless vinous overgrowny thing
It’s time to let some blood
Piss cum

Oh it will not get better
Or it will

Who can say of the future at my house

The future that my fortune cookie promised is ambiguous

Like a Jackie Chan movie with subtitles
You don’t know when you’re supposed to laugh

Even if the joke is funny


My how I love to lie you down in it

They told me I could buy flowers for $1.99 so
I traded in a big stack of old vinyl records and I bought several hundred
On average each rose has 23.5 petals
I counted
Now when you think about that our daughter and her obsessive
Possibly split-up psyche bi-polar bpd md whatever the diagnosis code
In the playbook for this century
Think about that
Which one of us made her mad as a hatter


I don’t hate you
But I know why
You might hate me from time to time
These genes are passed on and
Some of them are no good
They make us obsessed and
We get angry

I cut up some trees with my chainsaw and
So much for my anger
Then we undress
I see you’ve bought some new pretty underwear
You put them on me and I am happy


Dust in love
I don’t know if I believe that
There is too much that seems irreducible
Too many outliers
Cardstock sketches, caladium
For example
Things that will only last one time
While you are drawing
I cannot think this
Can be immaterial
I have thought of that for a long time
Many years trying to see it in you
And the dust
Flowers in dust
No water cycle
There is a real water crisis in California
Not looking to get any better

Still it’s ok to breathe
The brain-dead dust mites choke out all the dust
And we’ll be like them too
One day
But who wants to be a dust mite
Let’s wait a bit on that one

Meanwhile is there more to drink?

4 Jan 2006, 12:50pm

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From the Archive:
For Una, When She Feels Cross

Darling, if you say “a spider rose up and bit me,” I will hit you again.
Didn’t we learn to embellish?
You should say, “I have spotted a dwarf on the plain.
This dwarf–he is pleading with his lady. She has stopped at a well to pray.”

(and if it is a clear night
if it is day and night
night and day)

Darling, if I say “there was a crease in the pinwheel of the rose,”
you must correct me. “It was never there”–or else, “it was always there.”
And the little analysts who wounded me, “they were bad ponies.”

And then it might remind you of Hieronymus Bosch playing a harp,
because I will say, “there is a factory of sylphs.”

And then we will bite our shirts.

And soon there will be an appearance of little David, playing before Saul,
and you will know that we are stuck in an allegory
[and one that ends bitterly].
You will receive your yellow napkin, and the plinth of my acorn.

And the planets will photograph us.

And it being the next most unwise thing, we will open a new book–
the one labelled Beyond all Possible Pleasure,
the one labelled Most Whole and Difficult Meaning.

6 Mar 2014, 12:23pm

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Mole, Ezekiel
(stone – shadow – grass – hills)

Similemente questa nova donna
si sta gelata come neve a l’ombra;

                                      —Dante Alighieri

the eyes are red
spanish fly
appease the ointment
(ease the ointment)

tacos and nightstands, fishes
take you out / take a flame…. tie you up
(fill you with) gardenias

tacos and nightstands, mole ezekiel

little underwater daydreams…
dominas, nine by nine…
take a flame / take a match         a picture, underwater…
stick you in there…
call you donna / kiss you in the eye-ball

5 Mar 2014, 1:54pm

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Archeology (9)

Polynesian fantasy wedding

What a stunning vacation
The chicken hamburger is really good
In spite of me I am really smiling
Learning something about doll batteries
The olfactory nerve is really significant in them
Important to know what they are dreaming about
Do you understand
Terrified of falling
Somebody has to be a net

I agree that I will be that
Not a rope

Walk to the liquor store and buy Jack Daniels
Marlboro Lights
Call to tell you I’m sorry


A theater of grass skirts
And beautiful diamonds
That’s for your eyes

I am always getting this ugly because
For one I don’t believe in my luck
For two, the sex is so good
I want it every day of my life

Is that kinky

Unless that’s not a compliment
I want to be somebody who can support myself without a prop

Leave this dress on
It’s a kind of purple no burgundy no wine-colored
Crushed velvet
Bruised beautiful lips kissed passion for you
Leaning against a white column in late August


Paranoid when I smoke
The drug that you put in my burger is so delicious
Making me time travel
So what if I throw up everywhere
For the appetite it is so beautiful
I gorge myself on delicious sex
Making the night each night the only night

Then I bump fast with you and
In case I get sick and
In case I get worse


This condition

It’s kind of stupid the poetry I write
Kind of like arguing about nothing
Kind of like this breakfast burrito
I wipe my lips on the back of my sleeve
And then I think about what I’m going to do when I see you

What I am going to say to you
What if it’s not pretty
What if it’s dirty

What if I’m just a
Dirty little liar in the House of Broel

2 Mar 2014, 8:35pm

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Archeology (8)


Hammerhead shark tungsten wire
The crazy animals get born
And the world is a better place for them
More beautiful

Look I am here
Making a mobile for you
Where each minute goes
Under the next
And summer is as regular as autumn

This feeble minded January has given way to another February
And now March

Light’s angular momentum
Very scary

The bus now operating in daylight
The park open
Lighting everything


Could use some daylight
Leftover somebody
Genetic sequences turns twists take you under the licorice stand

Let us be taken


I correct you. It is wrong to spend 58 million dollars on hairspray
When so much of the world is underwater
When our own dalliances are cut short due to lack of funds

You just smile at me like you know something

Bartering rules
A better wisdom

It is no coincidence I think that people are mining for bitcoins in Japan

In the basement my son shows me a bitcoin
Very shiny


The world is a crazy desire
And a toothbrush
Touching all these artifacts so gently I don’t disturb anything

Wish I could touch you like that
Have me come and go

Have me leave coins all over your eyelids
Wake you when I want them back
Come back, you’re up already
Doing things for me now
The robot who loved me

We watched the Ian Fleming programme together
And I wanted you

Just like the first time
In San Francisco
Watching Virginia Woolf in your bed
I knew already what was wrong with me

2 Mar 2014, 6:32pm

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Archeology (7)

Dwindling twilight

It is likely you are hiding out with your creepy dolls
In a grey mausoleum

Piercing your nipples into twenty weirdos
A death of briars

I would love to picture you that way
Sleeping on a Xanax pillow

Wanting to be no trouble to you
Wanting to wake up early and make the coffee
Feed the pets
Pick up all the messes left by the trouble makers

The people who live with us become increasingly difficult
With age

These goth-looking kohl-eye dolls you make and manufacture
Harrowing to look at

But they are not your children


Our kids are rowdy and rambunctious
We love them
Yet they drive us so crazy
Look, the youngest one has now learned the word motherfucker
He uses it at every opportunity

Get out of my way motherfucker
Here I come motherfucker

Ha, you scalawag
We are pirates here and this is a pirate ship


I would like to look at you in a funeral procession
Or making flower arrangements with Daphne
When we lived by the cemetery I would go there
And try to find you
Looking for people who looked like they might have been our age
Had kids our age
Lost kids younger than ours

Here lies a baby so fragile they named him Angel
Aged zéro ans

When death comes to look at you or me I will not look at this anymore


You will be a Venus flytrap
I will be a man of war

I will feed you flowers to look at
Wholesome and sumptuous

They will have been our meaning

13 Feb 2014, 1:15pm

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Archeology (6)

Doodling in space

With a pendulum of fuck/sick
I give myself new reasons to go over your body
This is the age of you
Never before seen you
Never notified
Detecting earthquakes, eruptions
A whole Vesuvius of questions

Do you like
Do you want

A wildfire is raging inside you
A Glendora
What can I tell you

None of them is likely to be your friend


I am dying for this book report

Well I am going to see you on the dark side I guess
Everybody has a moon
In the advanced syllabus
I am amazed that the Oz movie synced up so well
With the Pink Floyd album
A miracle of syncopation
Every good witch bad witch
Which witch sand witch
Elizabeth Montgomery witch
I could never be Darrin
Either one

Let’s go see how the new Dorothy Gale movie is doing
Excellent, a t-shirt
Ruby shoes 100 bucks on eBay
How much did you say for all the old books
Can we finance our government

I don’t want to go anywhere near where my realtor says
She is stark raving
Make it a lunar rover landing with you on top of me


I pull your hair and
You kiss me
It’s simple
The moon pulls the sea and
It kisses everyone

The sea has a big mouth

Seas are so much lower now
Put your mouth on top of mine
See what happens


Don’t you like your breasts
Don’t you like your hair
Tired of your face

It will be all better

In between the running
Back and forth from mascara
To the horizon
How your wings got clipped already I can tell
Mine too

I can have crow’s-feet grey wrinkles
Hell, more freckles
Get fat in the middle
One day

I can see this from outer space
I am mission control

But we are working on it

Give us a little more time here

The tattoo says tomorrow
Tomorrow is what we can do now
Everything reconsidered

12 Feb 2014, 12:27pm

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Archeology (5)


Une saison en enfer
Is trop cher
The fire is in you
Sweat on your necklace

I can’t remember that
Yoga position
The awful French they taught you in your youth in Babylon
Bienvenue au magic kingdom
Meaning a lot
Costing a motherfucking lot

But the ticket
Is too much


I hate money
I hate the world and its mother-grubbing money-laundering

Ariel or Azrael
Co-opted bunny
Galadriel of the elves

My sleeves are full of them and their ilk

I just wanted to work hard
And to have a wood stove
And to know people who knew things

I didn’t want to be fancy like the weatherman

One of these days when our water breaks
Turns blue and there is no
Fantastic voyage or Caribbean hero
What a shambles for Disneyworld


I put on a new suit

I wonder about Umberto Eco and Tom Wolfe
Writing from within their cultures of difference
Lucky to be no outsiders in their art
Lucky to be relevant, hip

I wonder about wearing a string bikini
Staring right back at you
Quite pleased with my vagina

Quite happy to be summoned back inside
The insane walls of the insane asylum

Filing a weather report
Running together at Epcot

Displeased with my madness

I wonder about my ability
My sanity

I know it is a ruse but
I was born with a penis
Why not two

One half of one

I wonder about the warriors-hero
Outsiders and their self-help books
Chicken soup for the soul and whatnot
Whatever Oprah is reading


Fundamentally this is an e-ticket
Words to my brain

You can get off the ride at any time you want

Take your ball and go home
I am not your play-toy bien sûr

You are not mine

But I enjoy you
I enjoy you a lot

I want you to get back in the cage with me
Go back there where we were

Get soaked on the edge of the shiny thing
Burn with our toes just barely in it

In the sand
In the sand sur la plage

Dans la rue
Dans la rue like we used to like we used to know


The gondolier runs off with our money, what can we do

13 Jan 2014, 11:53am

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Archeology (4)

Santa Rosa

Road the road the road
Through this never was
Never will be
Although I can still see a sky so blue here

You wouldn’t forget me in no time
Would you
If I didn’t remind you

I stayed at the Motel 6
Getting giddy
Burying the likeness of me

I had 1000 more miles of highway to cross tomorrow
Where I would I live
In a new city, over there
You were dying your hair
A young color


Problems are like prophecy
They don’t amount to anything
Then why am I still writing a poem about all this
     like it happened 40 million years ago

If I like you at any time you are happy
Or sad at your reflection
You are not Buddhist enough
I am not
Materialist enough

We’re both sortof dumb
But we’re trying


They had a car museum
And a chicken restaurant

I masturbated in every hotel room along the way
Sometimes within the sheets
So clean so white so good
Covering the bare fact of me

Your voice on the telephone really shocked me
Shivering me often

Near Gallup I nearly stayed for a quarter of a century
Considering the age of dinosaurs


Now I must go back and go back
To Albuquerque
I will be thankful there for the other direction
Thankful for my education

I never told you how much the room cost
Did I

You put a quarter in the telescope
You can see my room

9 Jan 2014, 10:11am

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Archeology (3)

Sudden Valley

Green chair
Red door
What’s the difference

We are in a sudden valley
And suddenly that means everything
Flowers, like a post card
Saturated with red
All the green daffodils unsprung
And I am turning into my own self


Turn turn
All the reasons in space
Time a little ditch
     between two roads

The way I got nowhere with you
Or with dad
Trying to hunt, 15, pine needles
     still in the woods there
     making my feet small again
Hiding from the animals and the wind
     the creeping rain and the fog

The sun not much friendlier
You don’t remember it you weren’t
That makes everything difficult

What did I call myself
Alone in the treestand
Pocketing hands
Waiting to come down


I remember the Pentateuch
And most of the rest
The order is confusing

The other night before sleep I tried
     to recite them

I kept forgetting Hosea


We would later find out they were
     planted too close together
Cross pollination became impossible
So each weed became its own
     mother father
Became ingrown in the soil

But what’s the difference
Azaleas or poinsettias or tulips
Monet’s poppies

Look at them on the ridge
Turning green and red

This gas station sits here
     in the middle of nowhere
Collecting aura
Gas is $4.20 a gallon
I am too fucking thirsty to be here
     with anyone but you