ragweed
   pollen count
  on
 a 84
degree
  day
in
     San Francisco-
summer
  comes in
fall-
  remember that!

some robot
   mind
left
     the perimeter
meted out
gains
    and steadied
the accents
  an apoplectic
      psychosis
          stole
into
several
layered
   ruminants
and
and
and
  the venal
props
were
    sent
   to be
marshalled
   in Fremont

alligator 

  wine 

    mix it 

  up 

but look out for 

mice!

                

the 

craft world 

the lovely 

crafted world 

 a beacon to 

the light 

of nights

stowed like 

 a raccoon 

on a hi speed train 

jack kerouac'd 

to death

  some sonic 

misapprehensions

 like a rat faced 

insinuation

to a starving ghetto

blaster 

eating 

pupusas 

by candle light 

in a bombed out building 

 in Gaza

with the tv on 

 and no electricity 

how do they do it 

don't ask

still the mice 

are in the 

cabinet 

and we shine the 

polish

 on the police cars

 talking 

about 

this or that 

it's another day

in Brisbane, CA

and we have to go 

pick up the 

marijuana

drowning in a sea
       of stupidity
               say,
wtf
     oh it's not
    tear open the package
     who ordered this
         you did!
   no
I didn't
    did you have the
foresight to see
      yes
yes I did!
oops
more lies


   

dried out 

sequins broken 

               on the floor 

                       six vodka tonics

       the sunlight 

                asks for 

           nothing 

            

                    

he said no
ear buds
   c'mon down and check it out
he said it's not like it used to be
   I used to go there and
  have breakfast sitting looking at the bay
  they had this big long bar inside
  it was a giant empty space
    i think it was a dance club at night
    but I only ever went for breakfast

                       the world's
worst
     thanks
i made it myself
       touched by a janitor
            the
     lost writings
of a
    beat sorcerer
          living in the
       real world
  unfazed
  by
esoteric
   messages
     (gadfly)
              he had the
hoarder
 gene
   collected
       takeout
containers
   NO WASTE
      but that's neither here nor there
             somewhere a Winchester house
is being built
in the back of your mind
   

  klunked 

the 

                              head bone 

  on 

one dismal 

    day

         itchy 

 scratching 

            worried 

                  - not fun 

 somehow
    seldom
     reading
the
news
  blues
            still
wtf
     

the quiescent 

mind trick 

                               sad eyed lady of the

     stormy meanderings 

 in remote control 

landscapes 

 barrel riders 

and hoop dancers 

       we pledged the worthy

 sacrosanct 

                            duck and cover 

                                         kiss your ass goodbye

  nuclear pledge 

                                    unchastened by kool aid 

                                         and cherry pop tarts 

 stinky 

     bottles of booze 

               tiparillos 

                          and lids 

                       of weed

    qualuudes and snorting 

speed 

      fucking around in playgrounds 

      sex in giant cement 

pipes

  we did that 

                 and watched the cops drive up

                        fuck it and ran

                stupid fat cops 

         cut your hand on the fence 

laughing

           and scared

     

            

       

    

there was no
 casual explanation
      you could blame society
you'll be ok
maybe not
  still
it's like the Batman
  theme
 POW!
    BLAM-O!
       CRASH!
 it's too hot in here
       J frank Parnell
never said
  what
fuck that
   
   

I threw

the 

I ching 

and got 

                Dog Day Afternoon

                         "Sonny. I can't do it!"

"Okay, let him out. Let him out!"

    still there 

were other possible 

 meanings maybe 

The Plugz

                              or a quesadilla with mayo

something's not adding up

      a photo from the 295

       backside 

                                                 where the rubber meets the road 

said the man from Goodyear

 or was it Firestone 

throw the sticks again 

muchacho

 

 

the 

faceplant 

caracole -

      the 

                    cuauhxicalli 

on his tummy

   Chacmool

   moments 

      in the moment

                seething 

                                    there's a fly in here

           hamaka 

   sleeping 

             so long Garci Crespo

con gaz

     don't drink 

   the coca-cola

signs

       everywhere

at the 

Boca de Tomatlan 

                                    the road goes inland

              dogs wandering aimlessly 

    ridiculously underfed

                           ribs jutting out 

     silver rings on trays

       

   

 

             

static
on the bedstand
   bleeding cups
      and torn
books
    fog and sun and rain and lightning
  searching through the notes
"a reciprocated dormant equilibrium
is calibrated in non-effusive stasis"
huh
  the blinds are
halfway up or halfway
down
   still
  I'm wearing socks and sleeping during
the day
yawn
  banging at the headboard
     sending postcards
to Maine
    writing but not reading
time to change
  it up

shopping
in the
   quagmire
  being led
down passageways
 to raiders shirts
    for twenty six bucks
  sized up
and
down
   old pumas
   so dirty
in need of retirement
   salespeople
hiding
 in the wings
     a gate opens
      they fly away
    we escalate
  to sales
floors
   trying on
 the old face
    for a new
smile
 but the security
device
on
your face
   goes off
   purple ink
    everywhere
 you run
 and get tackled
   by an elderly woman
   in the accessories dept
she buys you tea
  and you talk about her
niece
who's at
Bennington
studying communications

 

stuck in
mobile
    sinking
like an
 aqueduct
    the river runs
off
yer back
quack!

some
grasp
 at straws
    others
spill the beans-
 coffee beans -
  others don't have
their meds
  and stand out in the middle of the street
at 6:30 am
  talking to themselves
     and then follow you into the cafe
       and make Ali cry

the ostrich 

   ran past 

  the party 

     you swore it happened 

  Aunt Rachel 

       said you were dressed nicely 

    which meant she 

   probably thought 

     stripes 

     and polka dots 

 didn't belong together

     

maitre' d of the
 orange juice
      stationed
like
  revolving arcs
      petty bourgeous
tap taps
 the swing is full
     we sleep beneath
the jungle gym
  and the stars
throw headlights into our eyes
       

prying
the flowers
from your
eyes
    with sturdy
manipulation
   you broke a glass
threw it
actually
at the waiter
 the police were being called
 but you paid them off
with hundred dollar bills
   and then we went to Arby's

the beach was 

like a refrigerator door  

 that wouldn't shut 

    we sank into our places 

 in the sand   

the sun 

was blistering 

   the laptops frozen

    we called for lattes 

 but no one heard

        someone 

down the way 

had a radio

playing Maybelline 

   over and over 

     we built a fort out of driftwood 

                                       and Pringles

  but the philistines 

kept coming 

the buoyant dreamer
  Swiftian
   using the drooping eye
as a failsafe
  avoidance technique
rummaging through
cantilevered prognosii
 in a maze of linoleum hallways
   "is there gas in the car?"
overhead
   the smoke
 from fires hundreds of miles away
 in a heat wave
 cars honk
   people sweat