Distances between Things, or Pounded

 

Like a Hook into an Eye

An open eye

So picturesque and mythical

Smeared
print: Blurred lines and grey Flecks

How else to Describe a Reaction

Some gasp of thought

(step step step step_

And your right there

Mouth covered by Leather
To strangle Words.

Hi, an impossibility

Lined by drowned Stumps and long Birds

This is my mouth, this is an O

It begins, it has an end,

But words and Syllables are not Part of the Picture

of Dry moss, the blackish and Then the graying–

That’s what I saw, in that Stare…

 

“What the Fuck do you Think you’re Doing?”

Hello is not a Kiss,

Hello is Not what’s Needed

 

I would! The boring rhythm of doing.

Practice again, again, again

At the Whorled texture of his Square Finger,— Earth under,

Sparking Flesh Across my Mouth.

Simmering me carefully,

The World Refusing to reveal its verbs;

Looking Hard and up Close at the Small

Flick of a Tongue, just barely! Just Barely!

 

The days are gone. Merely one day remains, The one You’re in.

[No… ]

Hello is Not what’s Needed…

 

Yes, you said. The Bed.

And then a Sigh 

Carried up the Way, All to Heaven

[Their Glittering Knives in Salute]

A long Collapse into my Self,,,, with one Great Wonder

 

(Just How is It

         That you Can Walk Across my Life

Like it was Water?)

 

-The End-

 

————————————————————————————————-

Hand me a Feather, I’ll fan you Warm.

 

Sipping connoissuer of street-light eyes,

(Spaced and Every Twenty Feet)

 

The Shadows are Empty, the Sliding Internal.

 

Angels Take’in their Time,

 

Yeah,

 

Drawing your Final Breath,

 

Pencil in the Air…

But

 

Care? Bear?

 

Oh the Burden of hair

 

—Speaking, Rabbit, of course

 

(Not the Dead things growing out of your Head)

 

{Yeah{ Your fucking Head is a  Cemetery}

 

{And There’s Ghosts in There} Probably Even a Few}

 

But… whose counting anyway…

 

A Tongue like Head-Lights, straight into my Eye.

 

(Or was it my Throat?)

 

To Busy, and Oh Well,

 

Drinking 100 Proof Tears in the place All Light comes

 

Nothing but

Dope-Fiends Fuck’n in The Streets.

                     …

Come to me, Milk-Nose. I Need a  Loan of the Quick.

 

-Thend-

I Am Not Richard Nixon

 

 

Under

An Idle habit

Of collapsed dreams and Disobedient nights…

I Disguise my mouth in Brimstone.

(White and Texted Gold with: Camel)

(And Yes, I am,

                         an impenetrably reliable source of Ashes, Quite.)

Continuing on,       none-the-less broken and fearful of birds

I step

Down,

past three wood planks, a Bed

of Absent ones and progressively disturbed flowers.

Finally (Five seconds of useless eternity)

Outside I watch as Measureless semi-nocturnal matter

Embraces unruly and mournful quantities of Air and Half-Light…

The sky: naked, shoeless and radiant

Cries softly.

Just lightly enough to feel…

The shadows at my feet tremble.

[  Obviously   ] out of excessive passion {For my mingled presence.}

(Which is ironically enough, the very thing that gave them creation)

(Does that make me the God of Shadows? Or Would that be the Sun?)

Who cares at the moment though,

For I am a metal Wind dressed in Hunger…

(Maybe Hummus for Lunch?)

(Or that Wild Salmon?) (Could dice up some avocados)

To early to decide…

I try spitting at the new born sun…

Not completely sure why…

(Hereditary warlike urges Or the Inheritance of Smoke?)

(Maybe just boredom?)

Oh well,

The important thing,

Is that I Missed.

 

I Think to myself. silently. how Church Hymns have always been sexual.

-Gospel Song –

164- ON MY KNEES BEFORE HIM

 683- LET HIM HAVE HIS WAY WITH THEE

342- JESUS IS COMING SOON

 684- LET JESUS COME INTO YOUR HEART

I Tell you now

I

Am Also Coming,

just,

It’s not
into Your Heart.

-Thend-

 

 

 

-The Middle Finger of God.-

 

T

Ti

Tim

Time

G

Go

Goe

Goes

B

By

Bye

.BYEBYEBYEBYEBYEBYEBYEBYEBYEBYEBYEBYEBYEBYE

Bye

By

B

Goes

Goe

Go

G

Time

Tim

Ti

T

 

 

-TheEnd-

 

Its weird having family here…

They’re sitting in the living room talking about the End Times

And Jesus Religion…

Outside its Nice though, The Smokey Mountain Fog is So Thick you can Taste it.

It may be Lonely in TN but it does have its nice moments.

Squeeze the Trigger Once… Perhaps Nothing Will Happen.

 

It’s Eighty Degrees Out                                    His Breath is Still Cold.

Exaggerating monoliths              My Eye’s

Have Become Lips…

Impatient                                 Asphyxiated                                       Gutting

I Smash the Sealed Glass Of Between.

And

Without Knowing It,                                        Head-Long

I Am Skin-diving into Nature’s Gimmick.

Surrendered                                          Chopstick Dizzy,

The Danger                  Of Irresponsible Legs…

 

Several     Crumpling Moments                 Later          and

Some Admired Justice,            Half Bliss          Half-Condensation…

I want to Teach Him,

Whimsy                        Transcends Ambition.

Just as    A      Flash

Of                   Peacock Eye’s

       Make                 Even The Devil

Feel             Surprised.

 

Fire Ants           Have  Nested          in my Heart.

The Air is Crowded             in Stumbling Moans

Licking Miracles,              I Stand Before It

Thirteen Hours.

God Waits.

He Cries.

 

Each                                Moves

Through this   Persistant    Vault,

This Wonderment of Black Sheets,

As if     Off            the Other’s Breath

That Shared Anguish,

Like a Wind ][         A                        Fog

[Flowering as Sweat,           [Scattering Tension

It Rises…

A Makeshift Pulpit. My Scaffold of Whispers,

Internal,      And         Always …               (Surprised)

Strangled   .                  Inconsiderate            .

A Preponderance of Squirrel-  Like            Knockings

Hushes           across [the Wall.

Past the Window    []             Into the Court Yard

I Hear Muffled Thoats…

Which have not Yet                     Been Assigned

There is Life Here…           There is Life…

 

It’s Eighty Degrees.

His Breath            is Still                         Cold

  My Teeth           Have Frozen

There Are   Butterflies         [Inside.[

-thend-

 

(Time is Time, and Therefor Chaste for a Reason)

You Arrive from There, With the last Man that Falls, No more then a Day without Hours

 

 

 

–

 

      My Voice always Seams Lost

 

           like

 

     In A Morning Fog

 

                  (And Maybe Far Away there Are Birds Chirping

 

                                        And Maybe a Dog,

 

                                                       Only Not Chirping.)

 

              I Count The Flakes

 

                     Sputtering, Kissing here and There (Skin)

 

                                 With Sharp Tingles

 

                  Intimate And Maybe,

 

                                 without moving, dancing.

 

 

 I See a Car Drive By

 

          [A Key Interaction

                         for My Morning

                  Hot Chocolate & Cigarette Ritual]

 

         I Imagine a Garbage Man,

                     This Morning

 

                           Found himself

                                      drawn to the Wal-Mart

        For Reasons

                Unknown

                                  Even To Himself.

 

                (But The Drive was Pleasant>

 

                              “She’s The Queen of my Double Wide Trailer!”

 

                                                                  Swooning From the Radio track)

 

                         And Then and Here, Arriving

 

                                 He Found Himself,

 

                                               Standing

 

                                   In A Lonely Bait Aisle.

 

 

An Old Brown

       Fake Hair Lady

              Standing Huddled in the Corner.

 

 

         Strange Jingle Wangles,

 

                Coming From the Paper Bag

                                                                     

                             Clutched Veiny Between her Fingers…

 

                              

                      But He Doesn’t Really See Her

                             (Except Perhaps

                                         Out the Corner of His Eyes)

                  

  For Unexplained

            Even to Himself

                     He only stands staring Upward;

                                       Half hour, upon Half hour.

 

                                   (the plastic crabs!

                                                The fluorescent shrimp!

                                                         The Odd Dildo Shaped Worms!)

 

And My Cup Finished.

               The Filter Bare.

                            I Return Inside…

 

                                                    –      For Only Strangers

 

                                                                       Sleep

 

                                                                    In my Eyes.          –

 

 

 

 

 

Dubstep

 

 

I’m currently In-Love with this genre of Music.

If you’ve Never Heard Dubstep before

Check these out. as they are The most Easily Accessable.

(In That the Beat isn’t So Slow, as to Throw you Off the Beauty of it)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PAfE4ISsPG8

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9hI4bSCy9iE

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KoAbMfg9_Uk&feature=related

If I Could Discribe it, I would say its Like walking into the Best Haunted House

(EVER!)

Like Watching a Fritz Lang Film, in 1934, Before It had Been Used Up Culturally and Replaced.

Exactly Like watching the Beauty of  Metropolis

Or Dr. Mabuse

Or M

Fresh

Its amazing how things go Full Circle.

We Want Fast Cuts and Blazing Beats,

But The Most Amazing thing Currently Happening in Music

Is The Return         To the Beauty          of            Slow.

And Just Two Beats,

Walking with Each other.

(Like a black and white Film)

Love is a Skeleton Key, A Ghost Through The Door.

 

<(*.*<)                                                               (>*.*)>

 

I’ve Been Listening to Burial All Night

So If your Going to Read This, Check Him out,

It’s Like Wandering into the Most Beautiful Haunted House on the Block.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EPwbqb6DZ9g

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bmW_r3XK2HA

 

<(*.*<)                                                               (>*.*)>

————

 

Hived ‘n Thick my Hair, your Smile at the

Love lingering Between

Curled Fingers  and These Lowered eyes

Welling and swelling as It bears in the Tide

Of Current’s Ends and Dripping wings

Of What Fearful heard on a distant hill

As the wind

And What Floats Downstream

 

And, here and there, a passer-by

 

Love arrives

To Histories Ancient [And Hinges Rust.]

(that love costs all we are)

They tighten up. Just a little. At The

Smile that slides Around the Fear. 

As taste Cries out

 To Return To Where [Once]

Was a Tongue

 

{Like cynicism, that Bloody sear across your Brow}

 

The Gay, the Straight, the Preacher,

Speaks to mankind. Come to me, here beside the river.

Oh, forced on bloody feet

All Those Praying for a dream

Mold it into the shape of your most

“My life ain’t heaven”

‘n

“My life ain’t hell”

Bauble of Stolen kisses.

From a poet to a poem

Love will waft it Till it Rises

And That made all the Difference,

For

Love, is Nature’s

Hardest Hue

To [hold].

 

A Lockless Door

 

                                          -The Long Wait

                                                                    Before a Knock. –

 

-thend-

 

p.s.

The Brackets are Houses, The ghost moves through, and through.

DubStep Indeed…

 

 

I

Had

a Lover once

“I am The Cigarette at the End Of Your Lips.”

{And That}

{Was all He Said.}

 

 

 

-Thend-

 

 

—

 

Chronicles evilly Between Arnold Schwarzenegger

Resembles a Dirty Condom Stuffed Full,

with Walnuts

Vehemence! a refrigerator fillatio    phillatio, continuing hardily my cigarette contrary,

 

Enlightenment Is just a Word for a Thought

That you Don’t. Yet Have.

(House That For an Aphorism)

Asshole!

-thend-

😛

Those words Spoke me,
It was Not the Other Way.

(And Apparently the Ghost Of Yoda Haunts me,

                        When I have Been Long from Dreaming)

(up All Night, On a God Damn Mountian)

—-

 

The Child Only Cuts

Its Parents From Its Life

Because It Cares.

-thend-

There!

           another Rhyme About Cutting.

AND THE INTERNET —WAS— COMPLETE!

-THE END-

No less absurd than arrogant. The Dark outside can’t Hurt you.

 

God I am Restless Tonight…

 

 

——-

 

 

Like the tongue of a wet dream, there is something over the sky.

 

Soaked red wings, the dampness of drowned naked day.

 

He looks over sighing

 

 

“The Wind has Penetrated me, Does that count as Fornication?”

 

 

I Sip pomegranate tea and stare blankly.

 

It is a dance, this.

 

Only Red and Lusty Syllables know it,

 

It is Nothing,

 

It is Shadow.

 

The Sky itself is scarcely moist.

 

I am waiting on words to come— Divine —

 

–Violet– and –Brutal–.                                                               (no n)

 

Devil Grin Adjective Sounds mixed with Verb Color.

 

Words to Swell Sheets, Close Curtains

 

And send teeth biting into Wrists and Arms.

 

The rain is Invisible Water.

 

The Sunset Wildly Drunk on Itself.

 

Cloud’s Bite Deliriously into Soft Hued Blue orange chunks,

 

The Moon –Alone– Fights for its Place, Impregnating Stars with Reckless Abandon.

 

I Look over, sip,

 

 

“The Sky is a Whorehouse tonight”

 

 

Fingers in belt loop, a sudden reply,

 

 

“Well then…”

 

 

Green eyes Glisten —-Holy Holy Holy,         Lashes licking my soul,

 

 

“Should we…  leave the curtains open and really give ‘m a show?”

 

 

I look up, the rain tasting my tongue,

 

Flick out a cigarette, Immolate

 

And Send my Ashes to the Sky.

 

 

-thend-

 

Repost!

But the new is long

and below

And your less likely to read it

If you Don’t Beleive I’m Good.

(And I Am Good)

Trust Me

I Will Worm Into your Soul…

Or Maybe Not

GOoOoD Bye

(Theres an Owl Hiding there, if you look close enough to see it)

OoO

-thend-

 

p.s.

 

Maybe it was a Penguin.

 

p.s.s.s.s.

 

I keep Spamming people and Spamming people

With Beauty and Madness

But they just won’t dance…

Oh why won’t they Dance.

 

(Maybe the Beat isn’t good enough yet)

(I’ll try again. Later. Maybe. Or Tomorrow)

DMV

Teach The Ungrateful Masses of the Internet How to Properly Internet Dance.

For This Training is Officially Required.

I Swear to God this Is not a Mildly Homo-Erotic Ode to DMV!

 

 

A Colt In the Fist of the Devil.

Drained in Boredom or Lust. It was Time.

Silence, and

I begin Laughing Again

As I Throw my arms Around

Him

And lay my head upon his shoulders,

Continuing to Laugh

Until Tears begin to Fall, Rolling 

Down the Lapel of his Suit,

Which is glowing now

From the Luminance

Of the Lamppost Above Us.

 

(From Laughter to Tears, To the Glee of Destruction…)

 

While He (The other) is Speaking now

On the Telephone, asking for more Promises and Lies.

While I

Realize

I Don’t have a Phone;

But Hear him Speaking Regardless.

{Yeah}

My Suspicions Are Scurrying

Hardily This Night.

 

 The Maps

Long Laid

Across My Veins

Are Warping Slowly

Under These… Innumerably

Sick Nights.

 

{But Birds Have no Fear of Madness… however}

 

A sudden Breeze Builds

Inside His Ears,

It Cools Me,

With its Low Hum,

(The Sound)

{Of His General, yet Fiery Apathy}

 

As

Idle Vertical

Worthlessness

Unites;

Clothing

Us

In a Devils Changeless Grin.

Where Upon,

Weaving us tightly to the Seams of the Night,

We are Robbed of Blood

By Lack to Breath…

 

As the Fantasies

Of wanton Secretaries

Are washed to The Streets;

And in Puddles

Pool

And Hope

In Vain

To Forge Illicit

The Shadows

Of  Skyscrapers

As They Fall.

(tumble wobble crash and awe) 

 

While with Lungs

Pumped full of Sharp

Thick Mind

He Tells me

 

“Like Cloud Syringes

                Drawing Up Blue.

Like Darkness

  When It’s Through…”

 

The Taxi Arrives

And We Are Off

to a Cemetery

Without Crosses.

To a Highway

That Metal Fences Shine

Forever

And Screeching

Like Steel Wool Across the Teeth of God.

 

Long Ago

Now

On a Cliff Far Away

He Covers my Dreams

With a Rain

Of Empty Bones.

Which Continues Ceaselessly

Long After

Even Our Skin

Has Been Torn Away.

 

 

{We Are}

{Air}

{We Are}

{Air}

 

Whiskey in His Hands

whispering

 

“Inside these Bottles

Rows of tenements

 are Burning.”

 

Just Before

He Hurls them 

Loudly 

Into The Abyss.

 

(Yes)

I Am Sleepless

With Thirst Or Memory

 

Far From the City.

…

The Cities Are Dead.

 

 

Here Among these

ill

and Far to Pretty Stars…

There is Only A Gun

…Raised

To the Flicker of My Shadow

and my Smile as a Bang

eyes fading

the world ending

 

closing darkness

 

Tee-Hee

Giggles

Mirth

And Glee.

 

 

 

-The End-

 

 

-Of Wet Dreams Always and Just After Dawn-

 

 

P.s. 

I Would Have you Know

That I am Part of a Very Prestigious Line

Of Trained Monkeys.