Dry 

aching 

 Day

  Like chaparral

    But maybe 

              A bit more deserted

                           Sowed the seeds of change

       With Billy Jack

 And then drove home. 

      

 There was a partly murdered

       Shape of storms

           Centered in the escalating tributarial 

                 Out back by the woods 

                       Thought patterns

 "Hold my beer"

 I got drafted

Into the army

   Of one eyed sad centaurs

      But my feet hurt

      My nose was running

         I had any number

 Of television commercial

     Medication ailments

    I asked the army doctor 

If I should take them 

  He said stfu

      Can't you see these centaurs 

Are ready to fight for their country?

   I was ashamed of my poor behavior

 And hid my shame in a shoebox of 

    Whiskey bottles

  

 She

He

We

They

All

Of them/us

Us/them

See

The color 

Of no forgetting

 And call it

 Us/them

We

 she

He 

They

  

 

She laughed

   And made a normal face

       Outside the Villon

                             Underwear store 

        He bathed in cathode rays

               And argued with the 7-11 clerk

           Then he told a story 

       About the time a guy threw 

                                       A fully loaded hot dog at the cashier

Mustard and onions all over his 

7-11 uniform

       So what she said

 And the sky turned dark

  And God was watching

 Can’t 

 Compete with THAT

     So don’t even try

                          Sing a lousy tune 

About a BROKEN moon

           High on kite strings

       And boxes of old radios

 The steadfast 

        Muldering moan

                 

Steep

         Steep

               Step

    

       At breakneck

    Breakfast

        Slippers

     

          The coffee is on

     I can smell it

          

         No soda pop walls anymore

              Not in brushed aluminum tumblers

The car in the garage

     Cold 

          Old 

                Faceless

Shaped like a

     Brick 

     With wheels

    A sort of off white

           

          Get the paper honey

 

 Tribecian 

       Trim

Slipped the

Ajax

      Steadfast marauders 

     On Tom Waits fingers

           The ladder in the loft

     Before my time

  Sold 

       And sung

 Slung

On the indoor rope swing

          New York was a beautiful time

       Before the chores

Aplenty

    Laid down a plastic 

Tennis sneaker

    Backyard junk depot

   And the moolah 

 Boolah 

    Bookhouse 

          Caresses on the avenues

              Junkies 

And drunks

     Turf stores

       Slaves to the sun

             Corner stores

Rippling in the 

Restive afternoon

      Ride the bus back 

To grandmas house

      And get some sleep

 Treat the wind

Like fire the sound like empty

Lots

 Lock your hype to

    The frozen frigid

 Man den in the mind

  The time for 

Certainty 

Is unclear

     The stable rationale

Of the 

Ersatz

Brigadiers

   Wait 

What 

La dee da 

La dee da

 Blistering

    Thru 

       Back canyons

           For fol de rol 

   Of the street view

             For an old gal

                  And a dog

           Sensing the ghost

                    Disappearing around corners 

                           Sounds too

                    The houses like great artifices

                               Of grotesquity 

                                    In seventies decor

The cement is my 

       Companion

              With bags in my pocket

Gollum awaits

               

 You captured some itinerant 

       Notion of the way things are 

       And now 

The train is pulling in to the station

     Where's that ticket?

In your pocket

   

 Time is a big taco

    Filled with my brains

         I have no skies

        No lechuga 

            Def no rice

                    Just cebollas y cilantro

And a cold beer                    

 Klook 

    Rebuke 

The puk 

    Plopped

  I pledged a synchronous star sound angel rag barrister brag

Bucking the tier topped trends

 Or triadinous treks in Marble Mountain

     Bear track salamander skies

See the forest line echoes

      Sitting in the sun

            Saddled with sewn stylizations of 

  The rattlesnake right in the middle of the trail

Triads 

     Hark ye harbinger of the Past

        Remembrance of what wasn't somehow

But still is 

    I guess

 Asked 

Of fortune

   But not forgotten

Demi relations

   To the causeway

   A double martini on the veranda

What? 

Oh fug it

     The horses are chomping at the bit

A bit

  A wee bit 

   My fortitudinal Mac n cheese ideas

    Like a dressed down version

 Of the swamp rabbit

   That attacked Jimmy Carter

Yeah now you see

It's not complicated

 Sheesh

  Need a smoke

      Out to the back porch

Like a gulag

      Siberian polar winds

Biting my ass

      The pets don't follow me out here 

They follow me everywhere else 

    Here they stare at me thru the window

"What's he doing out there in that cold? "

I come back in and they all think it's dinner time

   

   

Light star server

  On planet RX-7

In the Mazda Cluster

    Captain Burt "Chacho" Reynoldski

 In fine fashion

    Veteran Pflugfeister of Echelon x 

  Can't remember the other guys name 

But there they were

    Standing at the door expecting an invitation in

"Have you guys had your shots?"

 Grouped

By the 

Token

Sentiment 

He didn't finish his pork bun

It's just not okay 

      Suddenly I'm very sleepy

Like Roger Moore

   As James Bond

             Empire at all costs

Oh wait

M is that my paycheck? 

     

    

               

Steep 

    Ambiguity 

     Stop

 Read the writing

       Start

Of the staged 

          Effects 

Of traveling

    Glad you feel safe! 

I fucking don't

   But I'm just me

 So let's not worry about it

    I have enough caution

           To undue a lifetime

Of  anxiety

   (Or stupidity?)

         Sometimes it seems that way

                C to G to F

     Thanks 

    For the song

           Sweet pea

Weird 

Sounds 

   Though 

      Wondering wtf

     That is

   Beautiful day for banana fish

        What happened 

To all the other 

Pets

     Meow 

Meow 

Meow

      (I made clams with linguine)

White wine

Lemon

Garlic

    Butter

   Just looked at a recipe on my phone

       When can I get the fuck out of here?          

 Aberdeen

     Stem cell 

Theoretics 

              Bracing for

The pie eye

         In the sky

 Pornographic drawing

     Of a now reclusive junior strongarm 

 And his wayfaring biscuit eaters

   Woof 

Woof

Woof

        Time for a lovely 

Pint of Guinness

      As the neighbors scream about the dog doo

  Arafated 

And carafed 

      Snyderlian 

      Echoes

Of 

Isolation

Theory

   Green grass

LSD

   The Buick 

Is not

In the shop

 But we'll

Drive 

To Berkeley

Anyway

 Said 

With

 The greed

Of 

The 

West

 Stood

On

High

Proud

Waltzer 

Of Brahms

Puddled

Like a

Crying

Tourniquet 

In the shadow

Of your lust

Sweet

Broken

Baseball

Bat 

And 

Dreamer

 The mezzo 

       Munch

        Defunktous 

      Spried 

        And spoken 

      Like a good true believer

             Sending Jesus waves 

 To the furry creatures

            Of Narniatown 

       Cycled back and forth

      Back and forth

        While the cat mewls loudly

      And hops 

Like a kangaroo rat

   At an EST seminar

       

 The sanctity

Of pro-fractal

                   Derivations 

I and

I

In creation where one oh I forget

People creeping up the stairs 

Me worried about 

      The pandemic

       Like an old man 

W type 2

      Diabetes