Saturday, January 8, 2011


the parade is impressively vitriolic this year
even the pathetic mini-god statuary looks cheery
in its black mark book on the bookcase in the robot
a photo around a frame of delinquents
the picky foursome they liked walking off a high
Ona Massey in that one about Halloween dogs
what is he up there changing about?
like a Doolittle sucking the consonantal reed
lots of our regular company needs to be kept theory
the spin of the empty is there to gall us
I can’t catch my breath it’s too high too wide
Sherry Lansing exalts herself but not the capitol
Michigan is itself a queen chigger in the dugout
leave all nonessentials at the gates of Erie on the refusal side
a baby’s well done clog or Lord Alfred Tenpins and the money
follow the locus to the text repository amplitude
at the Kilpatrick Prolapse Bar & Grille
Freddie Bartholomew lost his growing pains got purged
by the custodians of the Titans’ locker room
up in the sky the spurts of the apostle PortaJohn
Goulet could’ve butchered it more convincingly
who that age still wears his doublets tucked?
these are the crack-me-up vicissitudes of the Bose crowd
flotillas on the reefs of the Liverwurst all the way to Brightening
the reunion tour of Apathy Idiom and Last Call
we can make this as radio controlled as your pants
religion conducted in a blown out quarry
I am Cicero hear me creak on the ectoblastic pick
they once lined up all the highfalutin and threw an orangutan
at their art’s expiration date
all the Bonneville’s gone flat
ABBA punched in the gentleman’s kidney
that was straight up Daniel in the burying of the milks
back when they wore tweed to immerse themselves in fumes
the golden age of the homestead fire
who doesn’t love a good rip-off on a brainy asshole’s watch?
from Cambridge to the swelter holes of Rhodesia
you can dance into the crosshairs of Ron’s silver bullet roots
or counterpoint one ascendant bitrate with an assault that results in chaos birth
that’s how the earthmen got okay with downpours
and the layoffs of an afternoon by Revell
this is Aphasia your personal Ursa Majorette
it’s a world of inappropriate apparel colliding at the terminus
only the squalid need apply for relief and discontinuation
on the other hand there’s always the chance of something disastrous
like a new aristocracy of dry puns
or the last of a species pinned under your wheel
at least when you navigate blind you can feel bleak about things
oh shit! a link just made itself!
now the Rushmore clothesline is uprooted
and this entire syllogism coated in syrupy buckshot
the thorn in the dodo that opened up Catholicism
that same custodian is starting his own borough
a return to Elizabethan elbow torture for yuks
mind your headshot instead of the play
did someone shout “Arbuckle Champagne for the house!”?
over behind that dick shaped rock you’ll find the clout they’re missing
this be man and this be man’s Novocain release
I think he meant Clytemnestra not librarian with silent gears
if good will is all in the onlooking and not the donated acreage
it didn't do the willows any good to buy that insert space
jerk yourself some dome
thus did the quarrel end in skunks
and the culling of expired patents
Eden is now a bra
tempestuous as Corbett’s fib mode
when the bands march to a galaxy on the borderline
we’ll recruit more robots to taste
we can afford lobster by the weights
and there were no Wrights worth remembering
argot everyone was ill in the cretaceous
we wish the balls back into the sockets
like Sam Houston on the pigpen stump
broke as pushpins

Sunday, January 2, 2011

Different Yesterday, Same Smoke (Sonnets)


in the apartment down the hall
a baby wailing or maybe laughing
down on Claremont in front of the building
where this side of paradise was born
a winter ambulance wails or maybe
laughs to remind me of commutation
since losing a hundred forty odd pounds
inside a victim tethered to a drip
clawing ether for some authentic scope
or a chop but the bits are priceless evergreen
mother not dying of cancer
father crying into his air rifle
imagined assholes essential to her oeuvre
the miraculous recovery from autism


the miraculous recovery from autism
or was it ridiculous hands?
dumb echo in the shadow of the mittens
apoplectic can anyone have said that?
the difference between a crippling birth
and a fortune cookie collection
is the difference between “you” and “you
will scale the Sierra Pintas strapped to the back
of a saddle bound corn borer.” between “I am
the words myth” and a flailing dwarf shrew
missing all three of its better halves
from a village that produces populist stiffs
and the odd suckered passer through
you get taken for a buggy ride, very


you get taken for a buggy ride, very
entertaining a walleyed cubist princess
which of you is the swayback?
the goat I saw slamming into a low bar
in a kazoo on the piscataquis
or monobrow dancing with fish
nitro pea beneath her transmitter mattress
it’s weirder the longer you’re dead
in my dream the barricades held
outside it there was writing in a room
actual with actual air
but the hole decomposes the lily
I walked past the Brooklyn library today
you were right it is much too big


you were right it is much too big
for you the breadth of a nut free world
Christmas Eve with nothing to revile
no visible end of the line at St. Pat’s
where the attempt to blow my cherry failed
I huddled in the rock smiling
your belfry cracked a bloated confession fell out
borrowed without permission like the title
and I warmed awake from you
a clown strolls past singing “share the coke
and snort” to the tune of silent night
another delirious ex-dependent?
it’s spoils, not spoiled
the freezer bags


the freezer bags
what it cannot get on paper
I can no longer contain my latent violence
so I frightened a shit beetle up a stall wall
the products of zero meat
on the bones of a spiny amusement
where we leave the sedan and come back
to its outline entirely in pecking
all of the feeling in the face of it gone
every trace of eyeliner shavings
hoovered the toy dolls sing one about this
a fit the same as a shoe to a blind annoyance
but we have a serious space concern
I’ll have to have ripped you off a horizon

You're Quite Unwelcome

Although the blue whale has been protected
for over 30 years and its numbers

are greater than the sum total
of peri-menopausal episodes

you have almost certainly written one
if your sentence contains more than three

references to your relationship history
or direct invitations for drinks to a mammal.

I can hear some of you gnashing
your teeth right now, while you think

the thing that must not be thought about
how chips have been implanted in

the real subject of your sentence.

"a pig has a dream." becomes "the pig has
seizures." and according to the veterinarian
"the pig can play the accordion" becomes
"any pig in a band uniform has a dream
of fleecing a roomful of like minded readers
and their leader dogs."

the base sentence of the revised version is now
"the dog has fleas,"
"according to the veterinarian"
has been pushed into a descriptive

pair of ill fitting iron lungs from the watermelon store.

true, one should be aware that many such sentences
would be improved by becoming

a chapbook of alliterative limericks on the spidey sense
of a scenery swallowing skin suit, although

“over” has been used in the sense
of “more than” for over a thousand years.

for the first nine hundred and sixty
there was a sense of the possible, but it needs

you to have been spat out by you, made
of the very stuff of your body

and scented like a coconut diaper
just removed from your imaginary calf.

the real subject of your sentence

wants its money back.

the base sentence of the revised version is now
“the dog has fleas,”
“according to the veterinarian”
has been pushed into a descriptive

ointment labeled “inconsiderate” and wrapped
in wounded salt and yet

it depends on whether you consider love
and support to be two different and differently given items

or own a home distillery and practice acupuncture on cats.

I am using this example to help raise
your understanding of conscious living

as subscribed to by those convicts who eschew
the mixed marital arts approach to serially raping
a horse with a rope of thorns. but taking bizarro history
into account you may prefer the self flagellation
of a trip to the far end of the Austin Spectrum.

If so, perhaps your restricted license has been
taken away, or perhaps a warrant

can be issued to deflect the attention greenpeace
would otherwise be paying to your impact on noise recovery.
it's an undersea mall full of room temperature pretzels and you
are here. check your target culottes for tips on

how to use has-been in a sentence.