Book 4
To The Hills of Silenus 

 
 

Clarity


Time for clarification

It's my churn!

Arms into the deepest vats

Jettison accumulation

To the top: A sweet elation,

fragrant, clarified sensations

If only just for me-est me

To the bottom: Sediment, 

inessential grimes, petty gnats   

Perfect for public consumption!

As value is found

Value is created

~ and ~

A taste of what this life might mean

Is in the licking of its cream

By tongue-tied kissers' viscous brains

For dissonant ears, distant hearts

Ruptures scores of lame membranes

Rancid water, disject parts

Time to root out all the weeds

And harvest all their wild seeds

for bitterer cultivation

Stringents clean the deepest bowels

Over planned administration,

Shaken from the largest thyrzos 

Voluptuous feasts of lightning

rain upon resentful gentry

A staff that's lost all self-esteem 

for protocols eclipsing 

what they sorely sanctify


Jettison all reverence

& regard all relevance

as diminished elegance

And if it's written in all caps

that don't mean it can't be minor

Or overlooked particulars

Sub Specie Aeternus

Now it's time for clarity

actor's drama direct ease

and freely shimmering melodies

Ploughing through the cul-de-sacs

and convoluted theories hacked

Manufactured aura's faux-patina'd students racked

Re-detoured academic quacks

False hopes tattooed on left hands?

Forced castrations on right hands?

But glass is clear on lightning shore,

and passing through a miner's light bends

refracts through the crystal skulls

littering the riverbeds

Phantasmagoric floats illusions

suspenseful flashing, tortured thrashing

Both near & far & far & near

Possibilities that are not here

But disappearing as appearing

A seering hearing clarified

Hearing! Here! So rarified!



Something Else



Love at first & last shortsight

Hopes for something else tonight

And every night on salty seas

Why's there so much latency?

Guess we'll have to wait & see …

It’s merely meek stupidity 

An anal judge who'd consign me

(Or anybody not just me)

To dustbins of an apathy

Saying you just want my silence

(As I give orgies of silence!)

And then demand my everpresence

(Commitment issue number 0: 

is that I commit so well!)

While devising for my absence

Maligning up scared fantasies

With body-guarded fickle heart

That wards projectors in your cells

Your fashionista of straightjackets

& lapdog brain tallies the ballots

Of your cherished absentees



Self-portrait as a moving screen

Projections malingering


But deeply our entirety 

In a speechless gaiety

Plunging, wanting

Something ... else


Flirting waves of furtive glances 

Unraveling the other's strings

Until you anxious seek the lancet

When it simply wants a pluck

For pure discordant saw tone rings

On red-mooned balmy opening

Art-eclipsed rusted Granite City

Starships passing in the night

Though I beamed my beacon light

A prism wedged in blackest maw

In darkest space it's you I saw 


Should I have swam & died for you?

All strangers I never knew?

Everknowing last firstsighting

Aging I feel more complicit

All the deaths I should have risked

A rage that strains to free elicit

I scent a salty musty sage 

Who'd druther unjust be whisked

Into a vulgar drunkard's brew

Resolved to confront confrontation

Confronting to solve resolution

Dissolving all the weak solutions 

Fronting as rare confrontation


So deeper depths entirety 

With new unseen gaiety

Can blissful figure

Something else



PS.

Why's there so much latency?

Guess we'll have to wait & see?

You'll likely perceive this as whining

Dooming sunken man of times

But its not about me, or even you

It's more concern for Fantasy

A capacity for sensitivity

unsnuffed out by vague piety

Resolve to confront confrontation

Confront resolution's ruse

Love at first & last shortsight

But what do I care if you can't fantasize?

soothsaying says:
A Scientist of Daydreaming





Poet in a Bottle


I'll never get it down

The words & music don't align

The rhythm slips & hurtles

Past dessicated murmurs lacking rhyme


I lack a soul for melody

& even phrases oddly spaced

Incomplete & yet so greedy


Resonate a dissonant cave


As if in trance the outer guards

Stretch rusty string across its entrance

For feasts of friends who never come


And slow a droning sound retards


From machines that grind inside

From machines that souls elide

That permuted all my pride


That turnt it out in glistening shards


Somewhere, back there, a tongue roams free

But in dark places without me

And so I need an expedition


When all I have is trepidation

For larded throats of dying bards


And scream therapy in frozen vans

Commuting to & from ambivalence

Avoiding all the herding clans


With 'harmonies' of brute equivalence


And with no other friends to pester

My ideas rot & fester

Aging like the finest wines


Or are they sour lemon rinds?


Collecting on my errant sharing

Pallid dust from life to live

Experiences shorn by caring

And blunted knives I tried to give



What plumes is over-under-wrought 

Gaseous clouds of phosphor rage

Dormant volcanos of thought

And mined by workers in old age

That I employ dispassionately

And that I pay the lowest wage

Whose gleanings never ever sell

Managers of public hell


Umbrella'd under devils wing

They bicker confused rumblings

Of what to do in outer rings


Pandering to false new sages


But my pebble still is falling

Bottomless without a ripple

Bottomless without an echo


And I once thought it was so simple!



And when an errant listener passes

Her belly fills with cavern seeds

Implanted there by confused needs



And from the noxious hacked-up weeds

And runs traumatic for the masses


"But how did he sound?" the breathless bands say

And aged, find me mummified one day

In cavern turned to reservoir


Illuminated from afar

Glistening deep with clarity

Bandaged up in my own work

The documents of prolonged jerks


Protecting a virgin lung

Ready for a hybrid transplant 

Engraft upon a first human

To finally sing a song unsung







Jaded


Only they who synthesize

Hardened-off & crystallized

Mineralize to pliant jade

I'm too smart for my own good

Can't dumb down a single word

Won't compromise for masquerades

Born under a breaking bus
Born as dust, a mote of rust

In the image of critique I'm made!

Descaling all the "musts" and "cants" 

Of haters flinging broken shade

Magnesia for the masking raids


Finest jade in all the world

Finest jade in all the world

Ossification's elation

Ossification halation


But beyond the oozing awe

To 'smart' means to sharpen

And so all the smartest fools

Are also the most refined tools

Used by cloven, unskilled paws

Misusing scalpels on pure hearts


And so Hephaistos looks awry

When I ask him not to smart me

Obdurate hunk o' rocky rocks

Can't be abused & whittled down

By self-important unimportant 

Pigs in their communal sty

Or albatross's heavy flocks

That lumbering refuse to fly

Or colonies of worker ants

Who organize for false queen's glance


I need to be de-calcified

Descaled & decrusted

I can be formed to anything

Doesn't need to be a knife

Or jewelry for the general's wife

So many possibilities

I may be mute, but mutable

This jaded hewn ability

To forge moar stories about life




Depression


Maybe it isn't you

Maybe the world is a shit whole

Objectively depressed, historically blue

Not you, or not just you,

but a flock of albatrosses

half-freed from Romantic Zoos, 

half-escaped in pseudo flight, 

scraping 'cross the bared,

cold shoulders of vacant crowds

Supple-shaped by clanging talons


Shuddering & grounded flight

Heavy headed & down worming, 

pensive, scared & fretting slights

A genius teeters on an edge

With lies prevailing, needs to spread

And disperse in awkward drift

to become the owl's eye

til tired minds bent lens to ground

on bumps of logs will data sound

 

Into the depths of empty space

or blanketed by winged race

Then ceases all the sympathetic


Res'nance of the "empathetic"

The hypnotist will see you fall

Crimson thorn on ivory head

The time of Noble Psychopath

A culture's yeasty foaming pall

From common sullen rooting wrath 


To posture, postulated linings

Collectors eager to acquire

community straight & prophetic


Upright taught the used-up wire 

Cautious, ultra-fertile signing

canopy of slow tree spining 

under purple moon, an owl,

blinded by the crooked ceiling,

stained with noble stoic earth.

Like cold hard iron guards the mind,

the bellowing infant of mirth, who

shrieks a birthing pang of feeling 




The EchoVirus


Babble of the EchoVirus

Last seen by the mirrored river

In the year of epistaxis

A score of leprechauns wept

Tamped down by The EchoVirus

that epileptic masquerades:

I made this current I'm the pumping

Above the caves & long distending

Distal but constant returning

Encircling by contrived design

A trickery of rushing flexion

Recycled & recycling moar

Aversion of the newly burning

Pathos River, I once called it

Secret king of current 'vents

While infinity galore
Pools above the bunker rents

I carved out your hollow caves

Where consciously your shadow shows

Amidst distraction, plucked a golden hair of Echo

And in my so-called memelab raving 

contrived to echolalia the echo,
distilling virtues Eversame

And babbling, dripping, double-blind

I puppeteer your vocal mind

Feeding into echo-current

Feeding back ever-recurrent 

Same old dribbling unfree fascia

Of living energy canalized

Opinion's embryos harvested 

Flora in the Echo Current

A scum to clean an older scum

Choking out infectious silence

So I can sleep by babbling brooks

Rest, for current-scaping by the day

Purifying sewage, laliac excresence 

Above your hypnagogic dreams

Farmed for my recycling streams



Music's Phantom in a Bleat


(Sounds of sheep so roughly-cut)


I may not have all the 'heart'

Bleeding freely from the start

But I see clearly into hearts

And touch the longing of their pumping

Ruminating fickle feelings

Illuminations fed-up, fallow

Fields of emotion stealing

That they conflate with all the passions

But are often just the rations

Handed out for better breeding

Resounding sheeple's steepest bleating

(Bleat bleat bleat)


When I was a younger man

Clay Kouros sans ample plan

I saw inside the shephard's van

Those frozen hanging animals

Eyes all bulged & whited out

For Rockafeller's restaurant

The bluest hills & greenest hopes

Sustainable anemic scopes

More like austerity & gaunt!

Conservation, preserved shouts

Persevering but not seering

Conserving lack of ears for hearing

(Bleat bleat bleat)


Your new fads were my youthful jaunts

I am the protoype of you

And just because I rarely flaunt

That I slurp up culture stew

Vulgar cauldrons of craft brews

Like Pierre, I'm on the run

Away from your most trending dingle-

berries blackened seedy stench

Yea, the juice was sweet

Entering it tastes so tasty

But caked upon your hairy tail

That guards of fear now chase & sniff

Not knowing mouth from stinking ass

And in that grass the bleating riff

Of repetitions always near

Herds of men stained by their hench

Herds of women's gravitas

That culture rations out so stiff

Handedly for cloven handless

Mass of divorcees fast amassed


(Bleat, bleat, bleat)


But I still worry bout my heart

And if I've been untrue to it

Unfair to it, too blue in art

The state of distanced cool 

A lost eagle perched at the window

Of red Matisse interior

fargaze past lizardskin rug, passionfruits

Piercing for window anterior

As if some Lord would feed a bird

Stale crumbed romantic loot


Deserting Heart


If I could be as vocal

As I was in conversation

At least that one time

In my muted bitter art

Pft, there is no my art

Informal banter & discourse

Heart birthing & witnessing

Warming up electric fright

Eyes that drift into dead night


Or if I could write that story

That I improvise so well

At night with baby girl

Stealing dreams of giant's lands

And golden shimmers raining down

From stalking vines up to the stars

Climbing with anticipation

And excitement for discovery

Suspended far above reality

And not just golden harps & loot

But stealing dreams themselves from gods

And not a reject marionette

Dormant dreams of movements fast

Who knows it well in theory hell

Strung-out with golden stringy stuff

Eyeset with a sylvan glynt

For finally coming to life 

Eternal child of a tinkerer


But I digress 

From all the pests

Like Archilochus walking past 

the boring warring leering rest

A deserter for the cause

of no cause or shame effect

A deserter sans a mast

The Deserter occupies the pause

A Deserter who is his own cause

And when a man loses his pen

He can find another one


There are talkers

And there's listeners

But I employ them both

To metabolize the stalkers


You look for messages in toys

I find the toys in heaps of noise

What they think have to do

Is tell people what to do

And how to do it

And not eschew it ...


But for you, deserting heart

Something else

A thresher of all jerking starts



Sleepwalkers



Docs & docs of pages

Etched in concrete aphorisms

LeatherBound pathology

Regurgitated personal lore

Drafts & drafts, electric airs

Permuting Time to go explore 

Strange melodies that streaming pour

Or swim by the river's shore

Under my empurpled cloud

That you called black

When you cast me out again


In the night sky of our love

A giant eye rolls over us


Empty promises & notes to self

Plowing ground for a Conqueror Worm

Or is it I that eat its shit?!

To fertilize for future fields?

The state of art of lessened yields

Theatre of the peristaltic 

Worming vorelord ticking casts


How is it you never had a childhood

But still not grownup like a man should?

They don't tell the version 

where Jack is blown out by a storm

Or sun blistered by the norms 

Or napped for 19 years asleep

Found by Epimenides 

Stalking up amongst the clouds

Skulking chandeliers galore

Nebulas of strange potential 

Spectral masquerade of shrouds

Wake up! 


It's time to get your babe to school

Bricked-out bunkers, fools golden rule

Then labor in a history factory 

Manufacturing totality 

For populist sycophants 

Kernel threshing ritual drools

Kernels in which I find some truth

While back home in your grungy cellar 

A lap dog barking like old yeller

Occupies your doubled mind

Unleashes you to take a stance

Towards how you feel about your bind

And crawling on your kitchen floor

Furied scores of nervous ants

Stealing sugar out the door


And you just sleepwalk, giantess?

And you just sleepwalk, giantess?


Multifaceted



The meaning of Conductor's metal

At the end of the iron age

At the end of the bronze age

The meaning of the new will settle


So you wanna test that mettle?

I deserve a starry medal

For enduring all the meddling

Corroding down my steely stage

You say get on the samest page

While you contemplate the spine

Of the book that they're all peddling

Pedagogs & pedants lines

But pedants don't know how to think

That's why they're revered methinks

O, just file them under 'Ped'

Walkers in a roller's rink

And reading all the airtight pages 

The anaerobic always stink

Lame opinions-of-the-month

Hot airs drifts like farts in winds

You think I don't know it?!
I might as well have wrote it

As a wounded adolescent

feigning ignorance, a fainting goat 

So I don't have to hounddog show it

Demonstrations, de-monstrations

Cast out what could be, unwrote


But I'm afraid of my own brilliance

Blinded one-too-many lovers

And unsuspecting strangers suspect

of stranger visions, forging brothers

in an image of approaching exit

Perceive the world as one large mine

Headlamps beaming all the time

Gleaning diamonds that aren't mine

Any one's for the taking

If they can overcome their druthers

But I'm a kin of fossil carbon

Light & hard & catching fire

And blackened by Hephaistos iron

And one final fiery time 

Combusting from this drier clime


To be multifaceted

Is to accept being cut

Hewn & shaped inside a pyre

Shining through the doors unshut


Deeper Crimsons


Expansive in your view

or bust

From Last Starmaker's view 

I lust


Westward unfurls deeper crimsons

Ghostriders in expansive sky

Encouraging all newer natures

Divorcelands cracken' open history


Westward unfurls molten crimsons

Violet lightning boyish song

Found in beds of sunken dust

On the margin plumes the questions

Before the eyes: a stained finesse

Slowly steeping: burning must

A pithy gut that screams and gleams


Expansive in your view

or bust

A screaming musting burning teems

A circle burnt on retinal voids

Whiplash flames: paranoids

Erecting tents outside the city  


The fastest rider makes no rust

Silver heeled, ghostbait giddy

Blazes on the roiling sky

Ultraviolet streaks of lust


The Wildest Reeds


Stealing every moment

Between hours of pick-up-sticks

Writing novels at my desk

Staying up past 3am …

Waking up at 6am ..

Nine mafias of Tesla’s schtick

Maxed out / patched out

My studio's a mess

A life's work of fragmented ticks

On Giacommetti's dusty bed

Machines that klang & glitchy twitter

Vile stutters & closed shutters

Shut-up curtains quick concealing 

Self-surgery of desperate gutting

Furtive little mousy minds

Assume that you have long resigned

Inhumed asses self-consigned

But you're simply stealing Time

Taking Time that works for you

Expansive You are redesigned 


Downtime breeding uptime

Downtime leading uptime seeding


Breeding beastly dissonant rhymes

An aesthetic of a new Prosthetic 

A demon toots a gut's new pipe


Music movement ... universal spirit 

Prostheses on the last maimed corpse

Severance all-over'ed 

A painting heard & overripe


Constructions ... late atonal death masks 

Tonedeaf indulgence ... harmonic excess 

Grafted in splayed dulcet tones 

Late tonal ... latest tonal

Ghost tonal ... ghosting tonal

Out to pasture sans duress


Turnt towards weedy wilderness 

A geometric shield found

What moves behind prosthetic welding?

Ghosts of what is vaguely wanted

Spectral new desires fledgling

Integrity of awkward movement 

Integrity of newer movement

Exiled to lightning fields, 

unmanned manic overgrowth 

A beast roams grazing tumbleweeds 

Sharpened dissonant aural flints

A monkey's errant long-lost army 

of philosophers it leads

And at a newer sound it hints

No fulfilment, gazing glints

And squints against it's own new light

With untame flora freshly minted

And bellows with the wildest reeds


Where a Silenus Roams


Silenus drifts binaural hills 

Perching, surveys cleaving ills 

Flashing dopplered heartwormed songs 

Deaf to acting, bypassed throngs 


Fissured hums in exile 

Grieven, shirking shrieks! 

Slithering, a mouth of bile 

Arms fleshed out of third ear leaks 


Muscles palsied, enervated 

Infected, dispossessed, cathexed 

Fluorescent in the lightning flexed 

Oh land divorced, asphyxiated 

Fugue states, feedback, electrons flaming 

Eversion: fertile, excoriating

Or so his echoes lalia 

Thru calcified clouds dissipating 


Rogue's chronic cramps unbending marrow 

Pawned and cloven, vivisections harrowed 

Thresholds broken cavities open 

No clones or comas or finery's otium 

Riding rivers a buoyant bark 

A great brown god for playful boys 

Joyful sings the solitary lark 

Bark drifts rejoicing giant's toys 

Lightning flickers flooding surges 

Streaming long-parched riverbed 

Cinematic debris nature purges 

Silenus seen swimming 'stead! 


New Sacae's flooded realm 

A mock king, a rogue inverts 

Bandit-emotion's electric helm 

And reigns with hymn-ecstatic bursts 



Gutbrains


Seeking lost dilate effusions

Looking for an increased flow

To let the current freely go

Viewing images of eyes

Beset in those who roll out slow  

experience for abscessed souls

That tarry in infirmities


Looking for a rarer death

Seeking lost iniquity


Slow experience of excised brides

And those who sinned against them

Freely running lost again

Mysmeric more than godly


Shuttered people hiding out

in pathos caves ...

other people's devices ...

Rot of Western Civ ...

Foundation pits & men on lathes  ...


The patients who misunderstand 

That they no longer stand under

The suffering of things they think

Slow experience for prefertile fruits

that do not grow,

Deadly treatment for people

and plants, slow is the sightline blurred

by souls on the other side

Slow is experience for threshing clones

For their delicious offspring

To be boldly decided


Slow poor youth who fetal find

All these diseases indulged

by the final fatal flush begrudged

For every pregnancy is but the first miscarriage

And by each, 

second and third,

Reborn & irradiated

The comets fall 

on caged civilians

at the slow banquet of thought-death

With no sound heard in the skull-hall

Slow for every self-grounded pronoun

All these diseases found in glaciers

This human beemask stings the throat

This human grafted on the possible

Humanure for what field?


And from all us, The Pruned

All these diseases, machine blues 

StrawWomen luxuriantly bathed

in grand basins of milky glue


Immersed as raisins in some jargon,

All these diseases, EchoVirus ...

Tales stillborn, undigested

The Most Constipated Men

Tailing after lost entrails

For ancestors to become rested

Slow is the message from the other side

The voice in the small holes of our gutbrains,

in the mouthpiece of a strung-out aura


Why Do I Not Give?!


Why do I not give, this aura?

Who holds these muzzles in his hands?

“Gladly”, say these drifters

ignoring all he has to give

I am an open book at lavender dusk

with all I've witnessed but can't swallow


Why do I not give, this phosphorescence?

The girl may be lying,

The cancer may be true,

But there's no point in crossing me, 

straddling the Fence of Hearts

What do I believe,

in the sky that you see?


Through pinholes of some sky-brain

The smell of dummies decay

into obscure cameras


What do I believe,

in the tight thighsqueeze of pentup girls

who are once again love-prone

lovesick, heatsick, heatprone?

The sun or the moon?

The way that I've known?

Meh, the king just eats a sandwich 

on a fabricated throne



”I have givens, myself.”

Swept up all distant insights

into a pile of hard word-dust

Calcified & on some seer's shelf


Tho telescoping sight, I still can't speak

Seering vision, still can't sing

Why do i not give, this caving siren?

How much EarHeart blood to give?


Why don't you believe, The Negative,

In your greatest & final hatred,

an eye tooth or a gut-diamond

In your roughest roughs, 

a starless night dissects

the black dog still whimpers inside you

behind all that big mountain stuff



The little voice of fear has been festering

Why don't you give?!

Why do I not give, this liberating atrophy?

The flame of my voice is the swallowed firesword

that cuts & heals throats at once

The grains of dust stuck there

have their fiery friction yet

Why don't you give, this praxis stagnation?

The expulsive riddle of Stag Riders

The numbness debris pieced

out of where your failures have blindly roamed

a stampede of spectres tilling pastures

In these natural bodies of my history's art

As I become less to become more

There sucks the iciest air in my

learning to fly, humming with a vacuum song

from my bypassed mouth of mouths

It is this seductive doubt,

this staggered impediment

I fuss around in asking

Why don't you give?

Why do I not give, this fooling of all fools?


The preached-up girl is meekly lying:

Dis ease is doubtless true as falseness

But there,

learning to fly, organed with a piledriver

on your hand

I give myself

all those voices mishandled

Why don't you give?

All oily, orby worlds

stagnating hermit's freedom 

When I whiff The Hermit's music

a cave of stochasm rebounds

~ Mirrored fargaze raven's pupils ~


Dilated to understand the hole,

Giving a learning to fly, 

quivering inverted shudders

in ears burnt by altitude's blacksilver wind

The crystal flake of this white tongue

doesn't have the yelling mouth

to learn to fly, twitching with an orphan's

trembling of a gravel breeze

& silicon showers

Why don't I give, Silenus's wine-stained hills?

To a horde that's fearful held

in fun morality's grandest shills

If petty head aches & shrapnel wind dusts my hair,

Wrapped in lust-tearing veins

In my ears of hair-aged sigh

It is not there, I give

To rot, impair Minerva's sieve

Where falling through "I Don't know"

Ungiving questions sprawling fair

Jade virgins kindling for Hephaestos

Molten culture's cauldron brimming

And so I say, 'So what?'

Warmth!


For tonguetied voices 

abusing bile, 

It is not there that I give


Why don't I give, this metal gust?

The cold expanse for exploration

A shadow of a fainting goat


Within the Satyr's mirthful hearth ...

It is not there, that I give these choices


Untaken I only give

A knobby turn of raw potential

Pounding hard in foundry night


Forging in this cauldron womb

The Forger of a forgery

To trap the learning how to fly,

charred night white-hot fullest cheek

In vortices of fading stars

Farewell to any thing that's meek


Baking an empty desert inside me

It is not there, that I give.

I only give an ulcery digression

Of the vastest I Don't know

Of the richest potency

Of orgastic unbecoming coming



True to Form



Before ...

A few years before

The split & torment 

Of our war, 

Your moralizing holy war, 

And my vulgar lust for doors

I was higher than I'd ever been

Making lushest songs galore

Writing essays truest still

In love with a baby girl

Blowing bubbles, down tranquil hills

Student in absorption's shore

Air thick with cicadas song

Waking up from underground 

And I from lifetimes of depression 

But still in our poverty 

I texted you to wait & see

What we could do, exploring more

"There's more to life & this aint livin'"

And on that Indonesian cruise

dulcet gamelan's gold clang

Prawns with bigger eyes to see

I exposed my deepest meaning 


To be true to Form

To stand under wild forms


But I don't think you understood 

And then the teetertotterer god

Lifted me high while you sunk

I tried to share experience 

(Which up to then was my depression)

Trampled into underground

To alleviate your pain

Drain the abscess of past sorrow

But myopic all you saw

Was lying law of a man splain

And ambience of ole' gaslight

An afterimage, epigone

But that is not my light at all!

My light is diffuse & sharp bends

Refracting through a stranger maw



The Winged Vortex Heart


Infertile virility 

Virile infertility


"Those on their deathbed

regret not having done more."

"...Said Yes to life."

Snake walk night on Strong Brown God 

Mississippi otter slaps brackish silverside 

Threatened by our conjuring 

Musicians who have drowned in flood

And considering unkultured bargeworkers

And the way your yawning, glassy eyes 

rarify to appear as the thrilling ur-image

of a glossy black & white horror film

When I kiss you by the viscous mud

Our first infernal night’s infertile promise

Underbelly pestilence of pitiful virility


I asked to see the doctors note

Buried somewhere in the vault

Under miscarried industry of trauma

Signed with invisible ink

Lil' chip off a life's cool shoulder, 

Or a dusty mote


Tinder hoping to make sparks

But we caught fire cus we’re kindling

Dried-up hardened carbon stuff

Diamonds scratching in the rough

To etch their sharpest, finest marks

...

Watching the weeds grow

...

Balmy porch arguments about the dead

...

Fucking at the workshop saw

...

Loud music


A vortex heart?

It ain't like you to play the marm 

Alright, I admit it

Fine, a vortex heart

Yet what exquisite cruelty to rub me in it

Bloody resentment again / again ...

We never went to Duel Island


Fertile invirility

Invirile infertility

You coulda kept it

Raised by Darger's lost girl army

Raised in performance's squat hearth

I wouldn't know if there is love there

I wouldn't know if it's a tease

Or mythic authenticity

While I make like a baby & head out

While I get swept up back inside

A Vore Lords nest inside my mind

And then in my faux-life all tracks

Are laid broken by faux-woken ...

But none of this really matters

Ornamental bimbo-himbo chatter 


We'll always have The Hacking Hack

An Anti-Farmer in Brick City

We'll always have pandemic spring

That virile fertile opening

Light breeze under canopies 

of prolific hackweed trees

Campsite of the bleached deerbone

Morning woods for dawning laughter

Lovers tent erection, 

Tranquil carving walking staff

Where Narcissus hunted alone

And Echo tried to rescue him

From temples buried underground

entombed in black effluvia

An angel of death in mutest scream

A lustrous leather bullroar song

Carved & jagged on ebony edge

Brought back to the halfest-life

TBD if it's for long


As a child never standing but always apart 

I was a great defensive athlete

But now headlong & unconsigned 

too old for resigned defeat

I breakaway & chase the storm

I voyage through this vortex heart

Transplanted there by who know's what

To reach new goals that aren't the norm

And on this voyage through black holes

And timelines warped & wrongly lived

Just as once a Captain said

Sometimes you just have to punch through

Not wondering what could have been

Without all these abortions at Millenium Gate

And reverence for an unborn state

And the state of our love?

And the states between?

More likely I am now an Echo

Babbling nonsense to myself

Spectral haunting VR caves

Dreaming what I want to mean

A sylvan frieze of letting go

A Sylvan Frieze on Delphic shelf

A love half-lived that unstill raves


Abandoned Pen


The night: never black enough for The Deserter

In its limitless mirrorskull: lights of various brilliance
Phantasmagoria: refracting to virtualize a new dawn


Only when its dark enough to see it


Always appearing as walking away


Jade exits Seven times

Splenetic, museless, cobweb-roaming

Committed mother of distraction


Or was it the Doctors Daughter?

Spying, scared voyeur of art



Upon a cyborg owl screeching 

Through Arachne's confused web

Long abandoned unused threads

Not yet dead, exploding circuits

Taking in it's winged dread

Silken threads too finely spun 

Catch dirt-soap bubbles

Blown by plenitudes of hot air

Distortions spangled & spread-glare 

Across the membranes through the rubble



Or is it wasps gathered round my tomb?

Buzzing about contexxxt


Abstract quiptificating in the womb?

A stillborn Omega Seed?


Lightningstorm of "I don't knows"

that embarrassed heavy looms?


A tapestry of "No's" 

Sagging overhead that lows?



Work will save me

Work won't save me

Born without a shield to lose

Paralyzed no sword to use

Hung up on the shipwreck walls

Stranded in a distant galaxy

Displays of retired warriors 



Now where's that forger disappeared?

The finer the blade the lesser the iron

Slicing up with paperthin insights  

Feral insights, lessened peers


But I'll lose the paper too

And leave the pen for someone new



Disintegration


No one asks the bit of swill

the meaning of disintegration


No one cares for one lost bird

in the spectacle of flocking


Yet drifters drift against the drift
 

Exiled tents attention rapt

Outside the city breaks the levee

about to storm intent it quivers

Gath'ring might ... deeper purges

wild scrambling upon hearing


Amplified a pink noise sky

heard only through our somber lies


Leather knighted mares lost high 

ducking shrieks from captive skulls


Fearful of abject descent

drooping levees ... anxious minds


That pulse with fear that may ignite


The ululations for a flight

No anger triggered this discharge

Potential of a swarm's delight

Why was their appeal denied,

looking at long lost each other 

during the mass inflamation?



Midst sacks of cackles, savage condemnation

Flickers all the greenfire behind stonewalls


Now squat in your Stonewaller's silence!

foreboding, built among the tents

Foreboding bricklaid speculation

That rots expecting rising rents


For where wild mischief lurks

Or the gleaming lust drifting for vengeance


Outside the walls it calls aloud

Insistent pleas of betrayal

Briarblade meets paracusia

A choir crackles frozen through 

enchanted glass beyond portrayal


An unknown instrument resounds


Refracts through every shard 

Through every fragrant field,

true voices are hacked & hard

Only fading pales of rain

Beyond the ethereal arch 

of human excrement now sated

with bodes of savage satisfactions

snuff'ring blighted lamentations

And electrolarynx screams

Craving lamer protestations


And that is what you sadly get 

for outsourcing imagery

to a Drifter's Net of lies


A web, drifting as a virus shackles 

Roman highroads ... spectacle of self-assembly


The swill peers in through shardy meshes

velvet vespers whisper comments


Like an electric scarf

worn by the grounded



What is the elixir that produces

accelerated dissipation 

that cums common recitation?


Stretched out on a prism strand


The shackles seem to be a burden

Steams of sparks glide cross-horizon

Blinking black scars on dry hills

Blanching wheat & scorching still 

The tissue ashes falling play 

Blanching children that are heard in

Envious mouths' sylvan knocking 

with prism-shards from Vore's lost Son


Automating, mating automatically, 

hyperlexic bot ... hypermnetic light-slivered 

dusk of projected life


Refugee in city caverns 

drowned in motes of history ...


Above the sunset an animal grumbles

Attracted by a baritone syrup


Fear: reflection of the Fear


Accumulation of neurotics, 

locked in mazes made of breadcrumbs 

Convoluted mazes rented


Fear of confinement,

fear of distraction, fear of concentration ...

Into an abyss the post-miraculous escape


A panoply of idioms, pseudo-theories, 

hyperconscious workarounds of consciousness, 

half-introspected truisms & vague platitudes, 

abstractions syringed & reproduced 

from cocoons of olden days & days never been or ever will be.


Paratactic to the core

Parataxis-core


And hyperlexic:

As if the only path to transcendence

Is the poisoned barbed wires of complexity


And hyperspecific to the core

Of disease

Of living hell

But not nothing ... not no more


It's not of selfish desire

But the flutter of children's nightmares


Of fear

For a landscape of bleached stagbone


On the cracking lips of dessicant prairies

Of desolation preserved


On such a hymen-broken shore

is found the doorway of fearful awe


Of Crowd-clutching-crowds 

where once was churned flame


Now churnt out

Now burnt out


A fire where once stood complacency

A private bonfire for lazy forgers



Retrieval


What mask is this jealousy?

What bag holds resentful arrows?


This gut holds moar adventure yet

Fortnightly visits to vomitoriums

Spewer of image-riddles


And yet!

Collecting the collectors


Roiling belly of bellies

They gyrate deep inside

To walk is to ped

To ped is to peddle

To peddle is to pedanticize

To pedanticize is to pederast


For effulgent hearts, no new nations

For effulgent hearts, no old nations

But found: the sighing signs of pregnant larks

Exploring the feathery cords

Where unmeasured pleasures pulse

Reaper of the skinny moonbeams

Pushing, poking, searching ulcers

Crescent slivers shining bored


Laughing at the straining spewed & 

Straining spews a last contagion

Spreading wide all stinking laughs

Assessing agonized inflation

Cuts open beration's belly

A vellum from the finest grafts

Eclipses longings of The Lovers

In afterhours of history, 

exploration with its druthers

Await with all expectant mothers

A smothering & turgid gorge

Extracting all torment from growth

Echoes expelled from engorgement 

Fumes then weeping marbled waves

Clamoring for crimson redress

Reaching, eking out a searching

Lifting straining to remove

Retrieving what is gloriously gilded

Oozing with a lavish oil

Mildewed budding revolution

Still life with iron efflorescence

Revolves with golden dust

Repeating its friezen self

Falling on exuberant cheeks

Forgetting dissipation


Lost & Found


You know what it takes

But don't got what it takes


What you got?

A nebula of constellations

Parched bouquet forget-me-nots


A flushing run of broken promises

Only ever quarter-made

By a halfling quarter maid

Deep listening in Quartermass

Halved & shelved for future kisses

A desert of corrupt abstractions

Snaking their unwaking death rattles

Beneath night-frozen redrock glistening

Lichen-lickers poison addled

A code etched on jade tablet

Lost & found & lost again ...

Strung-out strands of melody

Mirror gold threads fantasied

Unraveled across all land

Production perfect threnody

That lacks vulnerability

Distanciated dissonance

Murderer of consonance

A sylvan frieze of arid movement

Dessicant emotions rent

A mind that freely rapid spins

On micro-meso-macro levels

Milliseconds rough divided

A generator outward sins

Dispersed in stochastic drift

Splenetic threads that span The Rifts


Beta Bits around Lordosis

Kicking, screaming takes all piss

Throwing down what's left of body

Words become long to nobody

Truer still I got no body, 

but as my Father speculated

"Nobody's perfect"

A Potential God, I am no body

In age of electricity

Parried charges of the positive

And positivity's negation

The God of Potential tensing still 

in an orgy of waiting

Unseen, unperceived

In my so-called golden years

I wandered in solitude

Aloof in Appalachian residence

Stalker of the coldest streets

Ambiguous to all he meets

Electrified potential hums 

Inert antenna that just hints

At possibilities unseen

And without a single strum 

In the highest altitude 

Erect into the sky it glints

In ole' Mildred's mildewed house

Shacked up, hacked up rustic attic

Sleeping beneath nets of bats

Beyond art girls desperate in cabins

Who'd crowd my introspective bed

Who's brood & nervous cum would cramp,

weeping bequeathed breasts for brats  

my spiral stretching wretched head

Fertilized with batcave scents

Bewitched again by icy tones

Poured out through waveform transmissions

From ancestral ghastly presence

I: spectral synthesizing glass 

& adding up my nightly mass

Fourier analyses 

of all remixed Phalansteries 



Jezebel


O you appear to this idle daydreamer, 

Spiderlegged Jezibel,

As an inspiration of wickedness!

Tell me all your tallest tales

And adventures of immorality


Or perhaps your fantasies are more compelling?

Or are there deeper fears,

hidden dreams & icy tears

beneath experience more telling?

Just beyond & standing under

worlds of shadows & all doubts

You'll have my rapt & addled ears,

vibrating with unholy clang

From Jez who rings her wanton bells


The Runaway


Everyone just get behind it!

With blinded submissions

New ploughs & blades all pushing forward

For all fingerless cliches

For all writings o' doom

For all mores o' gloom

For any found grotesquerie

For stoneblood splintered sectarians

With confusions over-pic'd

You'll make any exhibitionist cringe

With your whining fingers

And your whiney frail eggshell egos

Over the pages of your so-called epic

Its brute shades of unquestioning

A pale flood of pseudo-sages


Blood sludged with civilization

Eternal frosting coats the veins

Strangling ropes of victor's cud

The final fighting chance is nearing

With your muffled laughter slain

I can hear your echo veering

O'er whimsical beration

Whimpered geriatric voice

Spitting babble labeled seering

This ring around your palsied finger

That only fools pull out the mud

When given free there is no choice


Gatheround for sighing blowout

The wassailant's last temptation

From bottom of the briny barrel

The way your pictures turn that ocean

Keeper of a sea less moist

For mirrors sunken & malingered

All lies of authenticity

Wonder eyeing Mock King's shins  

The jargons of sincerity

Lips that part for ersatz rations

Smiling shuts beyond the foist

Of laughing cinderblocking feral


Weakness of the fishy lips

Weeping purses marming shouts

White gloves on decades' archives' pens

Its fingers going cold with lashes

Ringers round The Sleepers tinker

The business, flicks, & facts of gout

You can't beat him

If you're just a hacking fake

Or merely someone's severed limb

His teeth will melt your half-ass ships

And your strangled pulse nervetips

Your faux-divine veneer of reign

He's got what you've got, You.

In exchanging out the lenses

In coops of Chicken Little's hens

He's got what you've got, too

The mouth of someone's grandmother

Stone teeth grill & bbq

In frenzied state of hiccuped organs

Swallowing the pedagogy

Leaking guts out of the hip

Massing lips in front of mouths

Sludge of river black terrain

Waveguide voices echo mensies


Larynx frozen, expodec

Of frieze mouths rhapsodizing roar

Petrified unrest to take

Or sylvan glint an echo drops

Harsher stones will never flint

Screaming stalking rhymes ne'ermoar 

Climbing flowers pulpy fruits

Paper leaves of camping trees

Thickets of austerer gore


Enclosing ornaments in friezes

Haunting fingerless cliches

For tastes of fissures newer-closed

And clothing whispers of the moult

Knifing fingers bronzed & tore

Now singing vulcan moulten scree's

And as he sings, he glassy slips

Into your mouth of mingled spit

Vices clamping up the tongues

Prism eyes refracting red

Anxiety roughhewn & posed

O'erspilled flashing beltsanded

Mass-justified to left & right

Center artificial light

Blindspot of the mollified


Pregnant moment of The Hacks

There's truth in faking running shores

Of mouthing tongues, of eels ores


Justice mother's lovers screed 

Spans reliefs with melted spines

Where faux-activity is hung

Never hearing, painting speaks

Stopgaps singing of their might

Bitter tongues for consumation

But not partaken with elation


Metabrain-burnt soldered slop

Blackened flames of lovers hearths

All lick'd out with handy meek

And then they fell, on a lily, to drown

Their power in guile, the shakes, the smells

Of playing on the grooves of throats


Phlegmatic thrills & novel frowns

Muscling smiles placated pop 

Closing microphoning larks

Then heaving air it flushes out

Still hoping to gulp down some fists 

Or balls of sunken seamen slop 


Says it all dunnit? W/o saying words at all

And in soundless light it burns

A lip of radiance that ekes 


The skull, the mouth, the casting gum

Poured -> congealed -> ornament: Done 

No message, but in bottles rote


The petra eyes & seedling teeth

Of voicesnake coiling overrun

Churning charm, charisma lists


The cheeks to lard & glisten, dazzling

Drips & shims, the cracks & shrines

Mirror all the shadows past


Hope, a mask to pass thru arches

everything he needs

To make him last


How you, stoopping over, undermines

He's got everything bedazzling 

Got it all in elegant lines


You can't beat him

If you're just a fake

Or just someone's wrinkled cycled rings


Your teeth with songs so mute

Swallowing as he sews

Hissing virtual lost his mind


Haze, haze, hazy haze haze haze

Like he just swallowed a bomb

And at that anxious saw he shrieks


He screams shrill hollow screams

From your lost forger's mouth


Familarity can't beat him

If its just a fake


And he's just dying to spit out

The sound of your teeth

And he justly begs you, begging begging you


The dangerous & bold young stud;

She's got him on the ropes

And he just laughs, he laughs laughing laughs at you

And he just laughs laughing

As his teeth swing out

And his smile is like the shudder of a ghost at cosmos-down


That creep, out his mouth, into fine-lined eyes

Nebulas of formulas & hypotheses & hot jargon

Into you, into puffy lips spanning slurping blackness


He will bury your throat at dawn

With kicking kids & replacement parts

When they say that I'm the bitch of a lost cause

I'm walking through the minefield, day-by-day

Waving at bats & spectral syntheses


And she'll watch you, watch, you watching you

So slender, she'll send you bullets and bombs

To make you bleed an audience


And she'll cover it up with just a lil dent

When she shoots, she'll shoot & pause

If she'd thought she could get away with it


She'd 've filled 'em full of holes

And:

It’s my boot

You're smelling now

And I'm sweating, sweating, sweating,

My hair's a mess, my curls aren't smooth


As I bounce into the room, trying to be heard

A storm is brewing, swirling 'round my rubbersoul


And soul-rending chants

And mocking jeers

And smug sneers


With defeated laughs

And hollow shouts

Now ... there's a fist in the air


Hissing like the rest, they're the cheaters

Now she's blowing hotter air

In the shadows of the amphitheatre


And smugging sneers

Slugs defeated laughs


And hollow shouts

Submerged fists in holo-air

Hissing latent with unrest


And mocking jeers

And hollowed shouts

And fired bullets by the peers


And hack-hurled bombs

Into your mouth

And hollow shouts


The king still rules, the king-steel reigns

With one hand on the stainless throne

Beneath his feet lay concrete trenches


So now your song's off, you're just hosing,

washing a sink with acid, 

Snaking down with dumbfound rain

No contest

No chance

No body


Perfection has the microphone

But has no songs to sing alone

No words, just posing on a throne


There's a star-filled sky, the clouds are swirling

Cobwebs of the human night 

And drifting cross pine-needled hills


Echoless a moaning gloams
"You can't beat him"

His voice Is deep, (...deep...)


It's like a sonic thunderstorm, in summer-down on dusted lust

And the mud that's caked on forest floor?

A marsh that's cooked to resin-core


In silver pools, some spades, time quartz

And it's raining, pouring down The Must

On you on you in restless sleep


He laughs out loud, not knowing hope

Echoing down the valleys slope

His eyes brightlined with phosphored age


Landscape of a man holding blackhole

A painting on the wall that gropes
Dominos that shed decay,


That's just how it is

(Now)

They're faux-busy dissecting mannequin limbs


Your licking lips

Your vore sun eyes, your hymning teeth,

Your yawning hips & constrained Wow!


It's pouring expectation

The Must is deep, runs mouthing echo

And if, try, win, try, lose, echo, bore,


So difficult, and, but ...

That army of the vanquished lung

Extinguished by the back hackdoor


There's a myth

The myth of Arthur

And he is like god's plaything


With a shiny gleam in his eyes

And his legs, his gay lil feet, groinspells


Everyday I'm getting heavier and heavier

And the whole world is sliding away from me


The rock is still there


He's just shaking his head at me

And laughing down at the ground


And he's laughing

My spirit's cunt gets weaker and weakens

I'm trying so hard, I'm trying too hard


He's forging newer sets of teeth


I'm getting really drunk & lying on my side

Just looking at the crooning wall


And something that echoes out

Into the empty forest

Of you

And there's a whisper in the room

It's pulling at you from the moon


So touch the lava in the circle


And it will soak into the skin

And then when you breathe it out

It'll fill up newer yous


And coat the things trapped inside

And boiled screams that petrified


Oh, I wish I could call

My poor little brother


But it's been so long

And still no phone, no...

I'll just die


No more waiting, no more nonsense

My neck hurts!

It really hurts!


Like a throng of footballers

shoving their mate into the endzone

Yins throw their weight behind a baller

With gravitas & spirits groan


But behind an evanescence?

A phantasm or an essence?

Or just a menace on the run?!


As I will do to you in turn

With my propped-up hopped-up slapping,

With the energy of churning

All insults, meanness, & failure

Exchanged for scents of them



Adam


Adam likes his liquids

Strong & in both hands

Is tall & lean with manhand tan

Of the fabled Both Toth clan

And breaks out into glory song

If ever silence does him wrong

Rhymes & says the damndest bile

Spewn out from The Forger's vial

Can touch his eyeball with his finger

I think he thinks I am a fool

But as the bestest fool knows fools

Who's drooled joyous appalling times

The party of the life with style

Of his own loving hats so much


I'd plough across the country for him

Careening past the middling west

Descending fast past all the rest

Or host his passion's laughing jest

Shimmed by love of feasting friends

Preening mocking lostest boy

Freest man without a plan



What is History?


Is it the disparate fabrics of so many lives

and cultures that are stitched together,

Or is it the thread that weaves them together,

to make a unified quilt?

Or is it the seamstress who with her judgment 

chooses what will be best for this piece

Who with her scissors cuts out the inessential 

and sees both sides of the fabric,

And above all knows that the thread goes under and over, 

disappearing in every stitch 

To surface only when necessary 

A thread that disappears for eons

And then reappears, articulate


Threnody for The Tired


So tired my last body weeps

My fire's dimming ashes sleep

Sulking into crestfall earth

As mass attracts a smaller mass

Inert I slump into this ground

Exhausted and expiring fast

Reviling this most morose sound

would rather sing a joy at last

would rather sing a song of mirth

That resonates a sunken ship

But all sleep now, all sleep

In broke communion, souls to reap


Wrestling with swarming dust

in our silent union sleep

The clouds will fall at any moment


What year is it?

What day is it?

today a moment's petitioning constellations


Insensitive a rain begins

When clouds fall we know we're done

Written windows cry for grasping

A crystal wonder underwater rusts

Flippant scripts of max exile

Documenting, dreams glide loose


Drawings, workings: insecure

Debating tactful acquiescence

riddled with expiring lack





Bed of Ash


A bed of ash

except time mosques an arch

of fragment's art designed

a purpled vibrant violin wall

Domain of child's author free


Embedded ash

no dance to tell of beacon's pause

Clouds and ghosts and cricket's triangles

from sanctuary clangs a ferry

seen at night's illimit arms


Laughing ashes

welcoming sign, all her

knowing smiles vowed

but runaway whisks loose tiara

amidst clatters of loving eyes


Swooning ashes

of vile guidance glacial trespassed

spikes to road of marching boot

sound of innocence vague echoes

hallowed wailing or sleeping silent


Gone the ashes

on love's highest cables dashes

bound but soaring girl above

backward smoking lungs

sleep begging to wake he holds


Unsettled drifting ashes

she flings up kindest heart of face

in mouth we still slow come

with a language scarcely dialect

cubes of burning ruinous slum


Riding ashes overhead

clouds over her ghosted shrine

motherless with million eyes red

Unyielding herds, to head not touching

clocks that tick to watchful dread




Untimely Death of a Girl


The sun never sets and the sky turns dark

when I am angry

my blood is blue

Look, the well was getting low,

so we began drinking.

in silence, listening

to our feet crossing in the mud.


None asked for this wanderer

caught in a maze,

etching weak fingers

on a changewheel downward bemused


A few translucent joyful hearts born

as the death of a beautiful girl

a star never burns and the sky negated

for a hot death drifting ceaseless

runs indirect and drones,

masters the new mainstream signs

unheeding 


If whales seldom seeing

white smote or a bird now glowing,

peds posting children ligatures:

he ink of a burning, beautiful girl


The star ingressed and sky the sound

like dancing and a coyest wind

drivel pool surrounded

by images continuous

with visible echoes cavernous

of harbors declaring dry lots

stubbed dry from boring sex ablast

and secretes a frontier's fault

a plane's bold crow doors doubledown

the kiss, the girl stiff


Listless flashes.

Installed in the sky

as a camera obscura, hiding

the mocked monster blaring,

swinging mightier unmanned,

ramparted, alone, themed red!

Opens wings as a fox steps, ironic

commenced fast chopping forgotten blood


Burial service rotates, miles forever airing

distracting the grand hotel's vacuum

find themselves final outnumbered,

floating into sound fantastic,

sounding chest and teeth all tickling


Screens switch colors

while guardians redraw shades

dust ghosts twitter feeding frenzied

eternal hung the broken ribs

and falling

illusions off our radared zone

lenses treated by youth toys

to wildfire sternems unassuring

justice thrashing us metallic


Father empties metal,

screaming urgent veins

fumigating blight that drowns us standing

over weeks turned ruin thrusting

forcing process of forgetting

loading its final possession 

as a moment of bliss it passes 

out of our sightline,

the dust will drift, the trees and weeds

fall, and the water will find us

slipping away


No dust to the memory, no tombstone

just blue the heartless sky

The sun's last days

punctured open 

with nothing ever fading in the plain

And love? forever found or gone beyond recognition

love once construed as a

sexy girl with hot urine, pouring chocolate

When they came all covered in sand

later hysteria pressed

shrieking splintered pierced total dark

says dream with window wide's critique