Simple Simon

in a scare

I fell back down to
the donkey dong saloon
more than 3 years gone
of off twenty years' booze

I was in a scare.
Was I a scary dream?
Got to keep up the scare.
Got to keep pressing.

Fallen along again in December
at the side of your shed
beneath your side bed window box
unkempt, unsteady i fed

Got to keep up the scare.
Got to keep pressing.
I was in a scare.
Was I a scary dream?

Too long here inside
the shade and barren
meadows of concrete
have I ambled, frothed

and gambled my cubic
feet in gangway queued
up to the slewed
frequencies of the wastrel

and the world undone,
the undersigned divine
and to the collapse of time
and of the human kind

And to forever in rubble, avalanche
the ancient dinosaurs' yen
lanced in, yon the ants'
acendance hummin' in

Like the terrible tune
of the psycho au pair,
hummed by a rube
in some distant ruin

chorus

courtney and beaumains

two sides of a worthless coin
the Earth left bitter
unmettled

you knew
it was gone
when you wouldn't
say it was gone

I knew you were gone
But just had to hold on

shapes on the potomac

how did something so unaccountably
massive and intricate, gargantuan beyond any concept of god,
tinier than never was become
wavelengthening infrastructural uncorpus
mealwrothe in aspectum

until all of ya: just energy nimbus
clouds, red lines in a white
gashing mist flashing thru you now

how did such a massive steely
greed engravure sistine chapelesque orgy of streaming death
become, in the intricate molecular
vice of the world,

(all its salve masticating needs blasted and goners)
gone as any wasted honest eyes
slash bayonet sized and
it's gonna be long gone goodbyes now
for generations on end

each one now
end
on end
again
for the rest of time

until All gone again
and after it's All gone:
on and on in
ontological oblivion

no peel,
no onion
no nine no

six no zero
no none
non anon
non y
no non



no


And you know it is the end;
you can feel it tonight
graven in the lines in the face

of the Ancient
in all the
deguerrotypes.

Preener

I seen him

I seen him

I’m in my yard clothes

The sweatstained man

On this day I’ll be a fool and run

On this day I’ll be a fool and run

Never mind the details.

The orange emblem. The gun.

Where the work is to work none

Shirk away to another day and done.

I seen him in his drugstore blue

Vest and waved hair do

He’d growed it out long and coiffure

He all Boy. Yeah. Sure,

I can’t quite abjure you no more.

And I’m naw gunna be your sucker. Sure

Hurry, I say. Ride in the car.

Just ride in the car.

He like, I can’t abdure you

No abvure you of all yah schore

Ride in the car, hurry, I say

Just need you in the car. For a little way

Ride. We ride or I guan ride?

Ride. We ride or I guan ride?

But he’s walked away back in the store

But he’s walked away back in the store

everything risen

I knew she wouldn't be my friend
She'd be too scandalized to understand
Wouldn't be too funny for her one true friend
Who she swore never to always want to see again

She wanted to become undone with ya, friend
Be alone yet soft with ya, one and easy, again
But ya came with that gravy
Roseur tone, sepia eyes and then

All your bronze horses
Long gone to Hell here were just
Braying in the sky, all along
Soon be grazing in your eye

Her gray eyes
Were full brimful
Of light unfading, as unto
The Ancient's face

If you were so lucky, bud.
You could be in key,
but who could say?
She couldn't, and you can't hear.

And all your bronze horses
Long gone to Hell here were just
Braying in the sky, all along
Soon be grazing in your eye

------------------------------------------
An image rushing you down
that you can't ever see
where everything risen
is in crisis at once

In the New World

Hurt was what it was
that you saw before ya
And you can both always and never ask
Before you make it Good again
-----------------------------------------------

She looked at me nakedly in the truck.
Gave me the runaround that that truck owned

the consideration

there was the consideration
of found ancestral bloodlines
graven as it were in the mind
sold and mined, relentless time

riding along, stringing sounds.
grind it all away. none but blessed in time
found a coal of mott cromby
racheted it in to the call of me


and if you say, dark days are coming
you labor on dark docks, under optics ary nigh.
the Interloper needs no canonization
no managed penetration, only misanthrope ablation:


you got to plan you see, crawl inside
the ordinary kind, ordinary times, not a scene
nor any sign aught.
Posting long streamers and signatures

A stumbling man stumbling in his thoughts.
A stumbling man stumbling in his thoughts.
A stumbling man stumbling in his thoughts.
A stumbling man stumbling in his thoughts.

Source: http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Dark_Days_Are_Coming.jpg

scanner

It's all Material I think

as I swipe another barcode

while functioning at an

optimal level of intelligence

Breathe now the new words

in Augustinian fancy:

Free and new.

I'm gon' give you

Thirty days to get

back home; thirty days

is all it takes to reclaim

a wasted mind

and life in this land?

Amygdala stanchion, here,

loop your pack on the post

sidle in up to the bar.

Lo your happy place yet is far

now but no more gone.

Declinate: the long bands

of twilight again

turned afire in strand

golden hair.

Sagebrush, hyacinth,

purple loosestrife,

the found land found again

in yon verdant shadowed treeline,

walk into it,

seer.

Walk into them long

hills in song. The laws of

distance quarter

new dawn

for burnouts,

so all lost fantasies are

on again. Now no more

bullshit,

no more ashes

crushed out,

no more cringing,

no more long face,

no more dearth.

No more

parking lots.

And what of loss?

Where decibels

turn to matter,

the light slurries

into sound

pure sound

give me skin

you have
beautiful
skin

my deft mute
chanteuse
hummingbird

thrumming
on mileless
waveform

you must not smoke
anymore
to have such beautiful
skin

so many miles gone
yet all for song

my songbird in blood
my dopamine flood

you must not smoke
anymore

if you would exert
proper deft scansion
over mileless

waveform

This conversation
I have
with whomever is listening

in your head

or in
mine