Neighbors of shit, death and hate
Playing with words like dirt
writing to a new place
swimming to a new place
through roadways filled with mud
and soft silent admonishment
from ghosts and mothers and drugs
(the moon rises over the dark
hills)
Enthrallment from sharp cognitive
sound
and a mordant abbreviation
swirled with
internal televised selves
and spread over the tracks,
spaced out over the vision
and opened to the velvet gloves
of mimetic monsters
riding high in the limousines
pulling strings of lucre
screaming
(the water flows and gurgles
throughout the night)
Into the arms of Morpheus a smoky
rain beckons
falling into the fresh and
virginal locus unknown
a place disentangled from demon grid,
stuporific & cut unkind
through and away from field and
fences and the ego pushing tongue of vanity
gone away from the unwatched mind
of myriad insignificant victims, raped by fat
(the wind blows leaves out of the
tree)
The lord of the river purrs
invisible shadow, a net of jeweled mirrors
while skull trucks and the wall
of fear resist loves summon
all the while raging and
poisoning and cutting
away, away the inevitable crackling
roots &
the slow serpentine growth of her
subtle immense persistence
victorious & eternal
(the red line of lava flows
silently down the mountain)
Pathways enduring through heaven
and hell
breaking down the self’s assuredness
and conviction
faith and belief, like the melting
snow
like the raw flesh held wounded
with nails to wood
or a wheel in a war zone spinning
after the bomb &
crying tears into a chalice
floating in paint
(the sea moves and heaves and
waves endlessly)
Oh pointless meaningless
utterance I adore thee
like a vast conflagration of self
gratification
you are untouchable and turning
the graves
turning the burning pyres of the
last wanton angels
into freedom & bliss &
succor
and their inexorable grace
becomes an intense salient evocation
of diamonds numbing the wordless
spirit herein
(the rain falls onto the grass)
Passing through flesh
True absence and love and fallen
wings over the wind broken tumble
of this one thing unknown
Her hair golden and the crest
of passion before vast nature of
rivers deep & carved canyons
moving
running through life without
leaf or goal or future want
Seeing only the road spilled
before thee like blood
sand in the hand
never ending cistern
holy and empty of effort
Written in sky and thunder
written with the night eye
words of dust dirt and wonder
create me beautiful time
angels sing my song
each moment peeled and passing
and faded and gone
before the light and inside it
was god
beyond thought
Hymn to Allen Ginsberg
Weather
the combs can balk or talk or fly back up and around this weak flesh going
further into the desert flower star of
late Junes speeding road delight or towards heavens final hour as the cocks
blow and these days are now remembered by the bullet by the distant phone by
the locked heart box of mothers shadow dipping her ladle of tears, spreading a
milk of dream stars with powdered golden dust left out to sing like a gunshot
spreading
And
the thrill of speeding high spread tires shining across microcosmic gasps of ant
canyons and mathematical values lost to mental word spins covering up the sum
covering up the seed of divine infinite empyrean of electron sunsets slipping
over the waves of color and limited boundaries of the flaming word the burning
bush the sinning girl calling to your exposed free and open flesh shooting hot
while time jams the nut of expression
Too
work for it anyway without regard to the cliff the fall the drop and
inevitable ending to your rush of blood like water blitzing away in the day in
the center in the pole unmoving like a mandala awoken in the dream of an old
man while everyone lives and gives in mundane vacant voids blank and staring
rehashing the repeating government nozzle aimed at your brain neurons scamming
the new satanic fate inescapable
Except
it isn't wasn't won’t ever be but a page to pull away and crumple the ugly bags
glowing and heaving and burning breath goggles under the ramp of dignified mud
dignified dust recycled atoms of endless beautiful human interfaces expressing
towards lean dazed and pain free molds holding over that hum they hear humming within
a working script bleakly pining for its sweet immaterial paradise its clean
bell shaped desert crescent
So
in closing the bards and gods and sweet young innocent gays writing in time to
me and I to you and out farther than either of us can crawl or throw or imagine
like laughter and a thousand tears a trillion stars and souls watching
unconditionally rolling down its silken cheeks to bare its radiant breast to radiate
its white light and carve the words of gratitude in the stone in the endless
neon pulse of eternal freedom is always free motherfucker
Driving winds
Spit into his own dust, he rang true
not noticing anything, no longer noticing you
only the flow, until the awareness of it stop’s it cold
and the wanting back in it, the desire for it
keep’s it out
broken mountains, don’t need no stinking rules
jagged aloneness, mating the bad weather nobody braves
but always
plan to one of these days
crust of the wind and flesh of the melting sea
this merciless unnamed shadow
this forgotten unthing
it laps the tissue of earth everyday, every damn day
from here I stand to back yesterday’s in a line so long, so
crazy long
we get sick
in it, we die in it, and nothing need make sense
swirling about it, stringing it along
living it living us
down deep, down deep in the black of the crystal heat
the cammeleon beating the grass and dandelions to break the
street,
to crack
the sidewalk, slowly, slowly
everyday while nobody is looking
beating the ice to crack the walls
beating the rot to eat the wood
slowly, slowly, while nobody sees
and it adds up the times to sand it
to lay sand on it, to fall, to fade
to whither and blow the dead end days full of sand on it
broken plastic and glass, bits of teeth
decay of the stars, blown like sand
