Thursday, June 23, 2005

Running Sap

RUNNING SAP
SHOWS SHADOW SKULL SENSE
PAY YOURSELF OFF
GET ON SUMMER THEATRE

FULL MOON FIRE FLY
LORD OF LIFE
SECRET STICK COOKOUT

DOUGH EXPLODES
OVER FREE FIRES
PRACTICED ON A DOLL FIRST
BEFORE TACKLING THE REAL TIME THING

GOT EDGY WHEN
FONDLING HOLY BODY BLUBBER
PRETENDING TO BE THE
DARK DOCTOR

NAUGHTY AT THE POWER PORTAL
OF ANCIENT EYES
EXPELLED FROM LIFE
I NAPPED
AT A SKINNING ALIVE PARTY
BUT FAILED

I LOVE NATURE
IF THERE ARE NO BUGS
NO IMPOSTORS OR ANIMALS
IN THE FOREST
A WANNABE PRIMITIVE PRIMROSE DANDY
CLINGING TO MY WHITENESS

A MALE BELLY DANCER ESCORT SERVICE
TO THE DREAM AFTER DEATH
THE DREAM AFTER TIME
INSIDE THE TREES

THE SOLSTICE
CALMED ME

I SWITCHED LANGUAGES
READ THE NEW CLOUDS

Sunday, June 12, 2005

SHAMAN

The shaman who calls the sky chickenshit
owns the magic
where "x" on the map
marks a spot beneath a billion stars.

The shaman who calls the sky chickenshit
says these freaky ideas
are as much mine as his.

The shaman who calls the sky chickenshit
screams that this emptiness
isn't HUNGER,
but others
say that it is.

The shaman who calls the sky chickenshit
is the Lord of Demolition,
wiggling and oozing
his Way
through the inevitable and the absurd.

The shaman who calls the sky chickenshit
by the tears that fall on his chest
can tell the truth
of the words
in his heart.



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

Thursday, June 02, 2005

friend

I'm the friend
of every spiritual abyss where you bet your life, of every star prayer offered up in the backroom out of idle curiosity, of every breaking apart word vision, of every otherworldly dreaming passion, of every pleasuring god-dance, of every ineffable feeling of freedom, of every honey-dawn promise, of every secret whisper bound in time, of every temple of empty thoughtspace, of every dark sacrament devotion, of every private morning gut feel, of every melodic heart lifting, of every beautyblues in the brain echo, of every life's fire skymagic, of every lost soul with nothing up his sleeve, of every perfectly innocent mistake, of every love poem that may hurt, of every snickering heart attack from heaven, of every burnt to nothing loving suckdog, of every golden, unpretentious warning from a child, of every panoramic view you ever dreamed up that might appear to be nonsense to those who won't take the risk.