My Market

Is down on Broad again, it's roof is breathing skyward. The joists span east to west, burn and ache like ribs is winter. Don't ask me about the basement. Should you stutter by on the sidewalk, on your way to inquire about a cash advance, you may want to come in for a lime juice. The lights are out at night and this ship has moored. Clay Market is brave and hopeful.

Roach & Kiss

Night’s pucker to the pillow’s odor,
The garbage vents fumes, visible even in dark

The spiders knit traffic barriers
From juniper to juniper across the sidewalks

Caution, love’s cantata breaths the roll over
Airs, sawing looms, depressing rhythm

Of the open mouth & sinus, the teeth trumpet
Out a menu and the hollows around

Us ease to chitonous motion, dark alien movies
Of my dreams. One, she comes to kiss me,

To love me in the dark, to tickle my lips
& eat in the smell. I wake to brush

Soft fingers over my sticky mouth, slick shine
& waving away at the wing-folding darkness.

Yes, Dennis, I Do Like My New Camera

Wires of the Holy Specter

::::::


Tremble like the night's burden. Seize them or organize the origins: Patterns abused to cloud. She meets me, the coronation blends to sky through branches. The wires are infused to my self redemption through the holes in my forehead. Then they place me on the alter and raise the dose of television hours. She complains not. A little more and I shudder.


::::::

Subcutaneous Prayer Box

Moored to the weave, we bound the city walls in luxurious wax, the saliva dripping from hours of chewed up arguments, childhood beam walking and balances thrown to the halls of faraway street top. Between the structures, so many distances below, the street grins and opens wide to carry the cars, to grind.

Blanched and Cast

::::::

In the head we find a simple mounded insect dome craven with thoughts and worship. The legged ones carry the impulses, while the larval currents share deep sympathy with past lives and the other, less creased brimming, wave crests and Delirium Numina.

::::::

Nebulous

Pronominal compounds cluster, with fatuous gratitude’s, just where you predicaments arise and seem, by virtue of these clustering, to warehouse. So that compounds arise just as the slight tendril of comprise seems to coalesce with easements. You are assured to witness them when, for instance, the car crashes are bonneted upon the roadway and the blind turns are blinking still with sleepy gratitude and hills.

Deranged conspicuous leers fester bold drippings as the laser of wire rips thoughts, or lean and indentured clinging.


Such trepidations permit the long tubes to manifest which allow access of the larval compass to the Numianl stumps.

Which possess us.

The insect brim and wedding procession is performed through the current of the host’s vision as fondness of ones own existence of childhood.

Commemorated in slippage the larval Numina discredited the criminality of the host. He slumps at the wheel.



Long blossoms like red train tracks appear out of the hosts skull and other orifices. These mark the official egress of the holy procession.

Who so beckons, let the tides and their ship worms enhance and thereby consume. The trip wires extend from the palace and its whirling. Obey.

Obey.











.

The Black Rabbit

Worm Gear, Auger Ever Onward.

Swampcore

& Skunkmetal

Hey Man, You Like Metal?

Kiss the Apocalypse full on the mouth and Hang the blessed DJ.
Do it with sawed-off guitars and do it today. Guitars like lightening bolts, Guitars like battle axes. Nails and spikes and gnashing. The gnashing.
Unfold the lacework epic of black blood and bones. Read the bones.
Youth, unfurl thyself, sprung and assume the metal stance of legs
Far apart. Billow thine metal hair and let it catch the wind,
Whipping through the smoke from the smoke machine.

Hell-acious

Rhinoceros Spine-Drive

It's not the worm drive, hungry for digits, that'll get you, it's the forgetful prescense, augering through the air. Squirming, two packs of cigarettes and two pots of coffee. Heaving through morning, breathing under punkrock, coffee for gurgling. It's the punkrock, augering with fingers, that'll raise you in the morning. It's the metal to lay us down. It's the pine sap and pitch smell to mark out each day.

Forget the day, remember the ancient turtle crossing the curvy road. The slender pines and the sand. The rhinoceros, horn lowered, trudging across whatever landscape you dreamt for him night before last. Remember purple and red and mostly green. Remember deep red like a bruise, just under the skin and whatever geographies stretch out beyond it. You are vast and innumerable and you are blood. You are bones with sinew stretched over them. You are your own frame and you hold yourself up. Hold out your arm, your shadow spans great distances.

Solace

Stunning Octoberism

And the soberiety of dying flies. We are green and aware of all our fingers. We float, under the torrent of the shower, hoping never to run out of anatomy. Sickening.
The roof line of the old house beckons, the tar paper beneath us vaguely covers. The bottom forever falls out and we are waiting for the plummet. The season of vertigo and construction
Cranes. Consider a man in a box at the thin point where vertical becomes horizontal. Above the horizon. The belief in metal, it's strength running the frail walls of pipe. Should he even think about it, that far up?
What does he see?

Category Fifteen Roofs

Whose back is bent, whose bikini swirl
posts laterally into swarms of accidents

prone to rejection. I shaved
this and nothing happened

sure, you shaved it all and everything
limped away into the craw

the crawl.

Humpback swirls across the Atlantic

Harmattans a cow lick up and down
the side board, the reel in and gutted

sword fish carcass meant for me

a mailed diversion. Hard mats at home

kneel to prayer, kneel to beheading

bips in the odometers, the circles
swing arm dusting up clouds.