We Will Have Vanished

My supervisor slid,
his skin squeaking down,
past my plate glass window
forty floors above the ground.

And as he passed my desk,
eyes level with mine,
Asked me "how's the report coming?"
I reply, "just fine."

But I'm lying
But I'm lying
And we both know it
And we both know it
And can't escape it
It's Ancient...

My supervisor says,
"Let's backdate ourselves,
Let our stunned hands turn to dumb stone,
refinance ourselves."
And when the signed names glow, constellational
in a vine knot, luminescent underneath the cold...

the cold lamp of the old moon,
we will have vanished!
We will have vanished!
The current come undone
within such choked wholes,
unfinished.


Inflatable Ape pt. 3

Once Upon a moderate Father's Day
They shoved a microphone inside me.
and they said "Dream!"
and they said "Make!"
and boy, was my face red when it went fake...

I am smothered in glistening chicken fat
on my mother's bed spread
dreaming draw bridge openings,
trying in vain to explain
all this regret to myself...

Would that I could gently hover
above it all like banana leaves...
The Birds shall give a shrill salute,
as you scatter my remains,
You are walking in India,
you are walking and I am

In the next life, reincarnated as an inflatable ape on the roof of a car dealership.

Sent a poem through a drive thru bank teller tube,
written in some ancient alphabet.
It said: 'Just because you're thinking about killing yourself
doesn't really mean you're thinking about killing yourself.'
The teller sent back my receipt.

And then I heard you shouting out to me
from deep inside of a museum,
in the middle of an earthquake,
artifacts break all around you...

Would that I could go in the garage and shut the door...
Would that you would not have to worry anymore...

Over your head, the planes descend,
you set a stone upon my grave,
you are walking in India,
you are walking and I am

In the next life, reincarnated as an inflatable ape on the roof of a car dealership.
In the next life, reincarnated as an inflatable ape on the roof of a car dealership.
In the next life, reincarnated as an inflatable ape on the roof of a car dealership.




I Have Been Wronged

In a flickering lobby I fume
next to the vending machine
kick and I shake and it won't
let go the medications I have paid for with my crispest bill.

We walked downtown in the rain.
Banshees stumbled all around us.
Thought I might keep them at bay,
but they sowed their scum in me early,
I have been wronged.

You got to heal yourself, got to let your legs just run...
You'll feel that Kingdom come, you shall see thy will be done...

Slithering slow through the grass,
infared goggles on my head.
Wringing the blood from your hair,
you left your teeth on the bureau,
Oh, I have been wronged!

Nothing has changed, President's Day has come and gone...
Pick up a rifle and pick off the sores one by one...
The neighbors are acting suspicious, the curtains are drawn...
Smuggled the sweetest state secrets all under my tongue...




Hallelujah Daddy

Can't man this little
battalion stand up
you plastic cowards!
who limp my labor!
I've... tried...
EVERYTHING!
Re-read the manual, mailed in the rebate-
only to feel the bottom line inhaling my heels.

Can't bed this box of
stranger's straight razors,
loincloths and toolbelts,
can barely lift the thing... is...
DEAD!
Dead to my family, drunk on my junk mail-
I am the only hole black enough to wolf your world.

Well, the bells soon'll ring, yes the siren soon'll sing, Hallelujah Daddy's gonna make it all right!
Well, the bells soon'll ring, yes the siren soon'll sing, Hallelujah Daddy's got it taken care of!






What Gives?

Oh how could you read
into merest hellos
some icy omen?
how?

Why would you unwind
that silk suit back to
the worm it spun from?
why?

What you want with him?
he's cold; when you touch
grinding gears ring out.

What is it?
take it as a sign, Lord, take it as a sign...
what gives?
take it as a sign, Lord, take it as a sign...
take it as a sign, Lord...

Where is my seeing eye shrink,
who blows his nose in the blueprints?

The bottled water's all
locked in the garage;
outside, a mirage
no one is safe from...

I'm shaking
take it as a sign, Lord
I'm shaking
take it as a sign
all over
soon things will be clarified
all over
soon things will be brought to light...

The marketplace ashamed,
you incur its flaccid wrath
What part of the game is that?
Have our better halves rounded down?
The colors all washed out,
into ground down
windshield glass,
flaring on curbsides?
What part of the game is that?

What is it?
Take it as a sign, Lord...
What gives?
take it as a sign, Lord...
Things will be clarified, Lord...








You Did What You Thought

The mother returned
The father shot back
The kinder were formed
from polyurethane foam.

When the appendix burst, dust blotted out the sun.
We stood on the mountaintops with calendars and guns.
Made peace with the savages, swapped livers for their lungs-
Bathed in different shades of beige, the new world had begun...

The kinder were born
in the violence of need;
it's a cold, cold cavity,
a cream-colored covered wagon.

White Shoe Lou was witness to his own grave robbery.
Psycho Les was overdrawn and underdressed for his repressed mortal monogamy.
And as their flakes of skin blew off into the wind-
and with this gust, the Devil's clothesline has come un-spooled once again...

You got what you paid for!
You got what you paid for!
You got what you paid for!
You got what you paid for!
You got what you paid for!
You did what you thought right!




The Last I Knew of You


The very last I knew of you-
there was a flash,
and then two of you.
And then the two of you
bore more upon more of you,
'till the swarm of you produced a sickening hum.
And the hum wove itself into the fabric of my days...
And the hum wove itself into the fabric of my days.

My every living molecule became a perfect copy of itself.
The feedback loop that it created bore down upon me.
I turned, I thought I heard something life-like
stirring…
was it only for want of one kind word?
was it only for want of one kind word?

The last I knew of you
there was a a flash,
and then there was none of you...

All our teeth are falling out
i got nothing to tell you on the telephone.
White gasses hiss from me;
black smoke coughs from your propped jaws.
My tv has the plague!
My tv has the plague!



Ditherer

Just when things had fallen into place,
just when you had your story straight,
a grey fox circling your house.
How best to summon some resolve?

Was you who lit that fuse,
was you who dug that hole,
who fell under a spell,
the last distraction of your life...
Yeah, you and yours.
But I know that you will rise again
on Satan's mighty wing,
above the ashen earth,
King of King of Kings!

And when they pushed you from that plane,
into the unchangeable sea,
died of a heart attack before you made a splash,
the moon shone off the waves,
the last reflection of your time...
Yeah, you got yours.
But I know that you will rise again,
dried by Satan's flames,
arms and legs unbound,
rockets in your ribs,
cannons on your arms,
to lay waste to this land,
Oh you will rise again!
You will rise again!




Your Beef is Mine pt.2


A three-piece suit on me,
a tutu on you,
in an empty airplane hangar
at a table for two.

A pregnant pause,
a thought exhaled
in the jowls of the workweek,
spare me the details.

And if you ever did spy a giant squid,
with your lazy eye, with its drooping lid,
we're in this together, son, your beef is mine.

Well, Vern sunburns himself
for to peel the old him off,
to find the red him underneath,
the redder him more raw.
Scooping out his brains with a rusted grapefruit spoon,
drinking his own urine in the executive washroom.

And if you've ever been
an unconvincing spokesman in
a seminar and telling jokes,
naked and forgot your notes,
we're in this together, son, your beef is mine.

Well, if you ever died or ever genuinely tried,
or if you ever were denied your relevance or sense of pride,
if you sputtered and you stuttered and you tied yourself in knots,
and under your breath you muttered something someone else forgot...

And if you ever have
missed your flight to Leningrad,
running down some airport stairs,
semen running down your leg,
we're in this together, son, your beef is mine.

Well who tells you to work?
The Devil.
Who tells you when you get a day off?
The Devil.
And who gives you your pay?
The damn Devil.
And who takes it away?
The Devil!

That pampered quarterback,
oh, he don't know how to act,
oh, he don't know how to throw, I want my fucking money back.
I want to think without hearing my mind's mouth talk,
be neutered and lobotomized and pushed out of a truck.

And if you ever were
somewhere where you never were,
inside someone else's skin, stealing someone's self from them,
we're in this together, son, your beef is mine.



On the Gallows


Lately as I ulcer in a new heir of unaccountable,
son, I've begun to repent you expecting anything of me.
I've no pretty pills for you, blow no high holy horns for this.

Should the radiation crumple us, hush in our disintegrating bed.
If I soldier up and church it out, railing straight and comfortable in a crowd-
what difference would it make? If I'm here or wrong?
The lights are on and everyone is gone.

Should I die like a dog on the gallows, dear,
sing a song unto my ear and make my fear be gone.
Oh, don't render me sticky yet-
let me be stored in a cool, dry place.
Here lies a shook one, deserting an army of none.

Was I awake when the shit went down?
Did I have enough in my account to skip town?
Did they set fire to the home that I lived in?
Did they feed me to my next of kin?
Was the media there? Did they handcuff me and throw me to the ground?
Did they read me my rights all wrong?
Did they read me my rights out loud?




What's Up Freaks?

Me and Julie were in the parking lot
of the Turf on a summer night.
We had just gotten off the stage
when Sam told me Big Tony died.
He gave me a hug and I walked out the back,
and I had no words to speak;
Danny rolled down the alley,
leaned out his window and yelled "What's up freaks?"

I had to go and settle up
with Darren in the back.
He gave me two hundred and fifty bucks
and said "Hey I'm sorry, man."
The band had packed up the equipment,
I said thanks and put fifty in their palm;
I drove over to Julie's apartment
where the bedroom light was on....