sense of it

Shapeless men and callous women
Have become the dominant figures
Among the skyline. Fountainheads
Wet my collar in cold oil spittle,
Fashioned by the palette of a faceless
Grin. Faith – a simple reduction of
Each image. Hope – a pillow, blanket
And the coming day. The factories
Dead, landmarks smokestack paper
And Joan of Arc can be found outside
The museum selling flowers –
Selling her fake accent as freely as
The prostitute.

The Nile from a curb

Crack fault tributaries
Sandy delta flats
Old paint corrosion
Bisecting the fractal relativity of it

A black tar ocean
pouring up an inch

Backwards relief
geography painted unconsciously
by some city Worker/cartographer

The splitting road evidence
He forgot to fill the Nile

how to keep it mad real, a step by step guide

die just a little on the inside,
before they catch you,
or it starts to hurt.

then you think about it all the time.

tell your friends and laugh about it.

call your dad and play it cool,
he will never know.

write it down on paper
to help you figure it all out
in your head.

type it up for the digital friends
that you met at college
a while back,
and swore to stay in touch with.

drink until you're happy.

smoke until you're sane.

if that still doesn't work,
don't lose hope
or forget to call your mom on sunday,
she's always so happy to hear from you,
even when you don't know why.

learn to play your new pink guitar
electrical white stripes and cover bands,
or another song you still like enough
for your roommate to play on the radio at night
when no one is awake to listen
because you're too cool and too old too.

take a year off
say you're just looking into it,
so they never really know for sure

or not to keep the last two lines, to keep the last two lines

the clouds are big top sombreros
buttering my lips and slick highway
eyes locked broad and breadth and in
and out a transfix cross hatch
bend that cafe bus stop where i sat when fall came all at once

my book and I imagining to topple summer through inference on the wind

chilling gusts
chilling gusts run back
that swept as changing clouds above the changing,
present air unsheathed (unbridled
(multiplying
(mountain air?

and desert bones
and oceans
to arms
a pike
a whorish parasol pressing its edge against a rim of glass
to lift itself, in suspense of wind, a moment possessed by rising

and sun pushed clearly
The umbrella
looking down from wings like dandelion imprints
ate wind like breath to fuel a burning bush

Shatter, table ice came down my boot cuff
and vigor swept clear as sky above

my red morning juice spilled in shards of patio glass
like blood from a bad day that wasnt

the new black

oh dip, here I go again
this time spinning and laughing
thinking out loud with my keyboard
glued to my melting mind
which can't complain about
everything it still can't forget

i wonder what these days
is as real as i
think

i guess i don't let it surprise me
when i wake up still sleepy
checking calendars for the year
month and season

it's always fun when
i try to let it surprise me
and how it does

i sleep like marmalade
bitter and dripping on toast
and looking for a rug
like its my job
to fuck up your floors
when i fall upside down

tonight i'll dream that i can sleep for a year
or two or three
no one has ever died from sleeping too much
and if they did
doctors would still blame unknown causes
so i digress
but i refuse to admit defeat on this claim
but who cares
you could sleep a whole lifetime and still find yourself
waking up
so tired and smelling like shit that it would stop your
heart

i hate my poems
but at least they don't rhyme
or make any sense
even to me
and i still write them
sometimes.

Canned under the authority of the Monster beverage company

Vitamin b and roboflavors
blech every bit
of my cheek tongue grimace
and a-yeck like medicine

g'morning

thats 12 minutes
left for home
work for you

gRadiation Poisoning

I have three shades of blues
I do nothing at all these days
I live on a couch
That is three states away
I always ramble on and on
I have nothing much to say
I drive a fast car in circles
Still I can't drive these blues away.