"Enough with the guessing"
pushed out of the airplane makes
you think...

There are attention starved people in every corner
luring with lurid lightning
(No fair, they're using lightning!)

So walk across the sky with
certain and mighty steps
since each second spent guessing was a second of
could have beens

September's passing
It's passing and quickly splitting into October's cool regrets.

Picks up the box of groceries as the bottom starts to fall through
they look, watch, fail to understand
one with a laugh and one with that forever puzzled can't quite figure out
unorthodox action stare

Even though, it's simply a matter of time before the cereals are paid for and the
necessity of comprehension won't really matter.

None of this matters really, in the longer distance run.

If they could ever really get it then they wouldn't under-appreciate or over-compensate (for) the lack thereof... in the non-sense. Non-being.

Cardboard is just as valid as the sea.

When it gets past the line, you know you've gone too far...
in all fairness.
Realistically speaking from the standpoint of a skeleton riding atop a hearse across
a stony lake in the haze of a failing sunlit sky.
So I chase after in the ineffectual efforts of a sky spaced junked hot-feeling
robot

Off to the PDQ for a drink instead. Since there are fewer and fewer options
and you need two forms of photo-eye-dee to get a stiff one
As rains draw Japanese horizons in the West, where I am headed
soon after I finish my work here in this place of dead roads.
Supper doesn't taste quite as good from a locale mostly engineered to dispense
compressed death reprocessed rather than fairly large bags of sunchips.

Harvest Cheddar...

Crisp and accentuating a much too old buckshot ham sandwich.

Dissuse leaves the status
on a train and so
                                                         it's not how effective
                                                         as much as say
fifteen mute minute intervals
if in deed we act out the terrors capped
behind organic will

Eventually they return with
disappointed looks on their faces
                                                         and Dakota clouds
                                                         drifting shades of gray
across the t-shirts and
hats exhorting a palace made by corn.

Dive on in and she waddle
pushing that stroller and strolling    pushin'    pushin'  
and It is

Testament to the validity of the statement "all that glitters is not gold."
(unless you're talking about teeth)

In voyeristix terms and what-have-yous:
stop                                                      like
            look                                 feel
                         listen         don't
                                   but

eating                                                  when
             as                                      ill
                       ought                 me
                                   makes

Your around

Instance just a flash or correlated syncopation
scythe and sycophant? not yet. But in time due.

Flourish and bravado? Task. It is the same
in one hand or the other. And I am seeking the weave of
the pattern-masters
deft rhythm.

"Ill winder thrugh theem tryptic caverns"
as I toss my three-sided die. This game is near the
end of phase and turn.

Cycle, cycle, cycle. I tire and bore in the hot, overcast sun.

Future first. Fighting the need to act and forcing the needs to wait. Like a wino and his grapes.
Eventually, I'm gunna get me summah dat drunk.

Bzzzzt.

    new flesh in on a factory floor.
I wash these clothes for the seventy-eighth time.

If "no" is equivalant to prevailing standards, then "yes" is dropping
    just like a long, dark, empty
                                             hallway in highschool.
and as always
    canned tamales for dinner again.

"This Crazy 4 Prong"
           (Plug)

We tried to shoot the salvaged hope to
the stars but only got as far as
dayside beach combing.
                      (jack pot stickers)
You ever do that?  Feel this?
  (put a gun in your mouth)
He hands over the handcuffs.  She hangs
off the railing.  They both still cling
to their shotguns like twigs in
the blacklight.  (I am the blight)

I’m watching the moss creep by the
lights  of  the  fungi
    (ferris wheel)
It never tasted so.  Convenient.
   forever.  (last night for rights)
critters piled on critters at the bottom
we plotted and failed.  But with no
consequence.  What a dreary deal.
                  (fill in)  (tooth gaps)
Three aces.  A hydra.
   (you ghosts)
Bland grindings.  Steel pan.  Woven
costumes and characters.  I see you.
She sees you.  He is oblivious to
everything but the water crashing
with the strips of flesh.

A volcanic rush.

Feet fall like dominos as we are instructed
how to party
by a misjudged and be-drangled group
of long-haired floozies from the
                         south and the west
corner of the square.

Squeek out the instructions and demand
we all shout along with you eh?
Is that how it’s done? 

I’m bored with this now.
Don’t tell me how to party, party clown.
I got it you like mirrors and razors a long time ago.
Get off my back.

I think the easiest way out of this is to use a switch
and beat the door down.

Yah, yah, yah, yah, yeow!!!  Mas Taquila!!!

************************************************
                                                                        10/17/08

I just want to hold on to this a little while longer, but not when
it's dismembered
Cool kids on skateboards zipping by in the twilighted.

You're the tightlipped with crowns and jewels, lost Saturdays
evacuated in the fallout of last weeks disasterous
celebration.  Where's the sign up sheet for the
next one... "Pot Luck!!!"  What the s&t?..

Stooling around the bar this fine evening.  Giving
rise to the questions and serious answers game. (FAME!)
Do you know the (all the) way to San Corazon?

If often enough we were to meet, I would've considered
this all too seriously.  Steam rising off freshly cleaned
flattops.  You in azz-tight jeans this time.  Irresistable to a fault
(or perhaps, crack (cheeky))  And always in the shakedown dives.

"Who's got the lighter now?"

I've got me some scented candles to set a-fire!!!