there's nowhere to go now
everything is here
on the fucking internet
grandma's house ain't grandma's house no more
it's a bed & breakfast
where Abe Lincoln may have given a speech
see? all the people on the porch in this photo from 18 something
fNA in my dna
do you have any idea what you're talking about
no
but it doesn't matter does it?
it's almost better if you don't
that way it's not so complicated
oh but it totally went viral
that used to mean a lot of people got sick

it could be problematic,
the funds from the mustached pumpkin
were promised for the festivities
erroneously it seems
and so it goes
day in and day out
one hack session to the next
some get a new dog
others sunglassses
some have children
some quit and are seen smiling
the following Monday
but it's hard to believe they would submit a
styrofoam pumpkin
it's not even a real pumpkin!
wtf?

smoking weed outside the kilowatt
waiting for the pats to lose
shouldn't that guy be in "prison"?
now drinking a german beer
laying in bed
listening to the peaceful breeze
blow the silk tablecloth
I use to keep the neighbors
from seeing in
Ya volg herr commandant
alles klar?
the chain fell off the tandem bike
riding on Halloween as the jew and the Arab.
and then off to Pedroville
Dave hit the floor
just fell down
I've never seen him that drunk
passed out on Jeff's bed after the cabs
wouldn't take him home

sometimes
you just want to shoot
an arrow at your heart
or drink till you are oblivious
forget the
pandemic
existence

on the back chance
that any of this
is at all relevant
or even worth bothering with
the confessional
of the laptop
trying to make something
"palpable"
from
what? a life of underwhelming ...fill
in the blank

emptiness
folds like a cinnamon bun
sweet and sticky
xylophones are made
somewhere
in a factory
in a xylophone factory
there's a guy who works
there
he's on his break
the whistle blew
he's in the break room
eating a cinnamon bun
emptiness goes on working
unpaid

as time marches backwards
the sand of the rivers is counted
grain by grain
the tiny holes on the ceiling of 1962 volkswagen bug.
How to count them all?!
and time marches forward
into the wayback of scratchy industrial wool-like material
and now I'm surrounded by paper
a river of paper
flowing in and out of the pauses
in my sentences
flowing in
or somehow dammed up permanently
and unable to voice a
a phrase
but still
"yum-yum"

Aphrodirty was swayed
her tresses in disarray

"who's got a smoke?"
Flirting from the edge of the
water she slipped from Pans gaze and
surfaced with a laugh

"what manner of god are thee?"

on the north side a herculean effort was undermined
by the glance of a demi god
"pshaw"
"Let's eat the mushrooms."

a gratuitous bequest
at the request of the henchman
in furs
moseying forward with uzis from the colonel
and bemoaning sub saharan internecine
trivialitites, like a solid gold smith & wesson
or virgin watch women
bodyguards of the soul
for the afterlife,
a painful shot to the forehead
a cry for mercy
after crawling from an irrigation pipe

as the sands of time slowly move backward
erasing what is and what was
and the smile on the sphinx at
the thought

something slipped
from the wallpaper
the nose of tristam shandy,
gore vidal and
Barbara Billingsley

a convention of practicalities
weathered by white noise
the static of scenery
a doe, a mime,
dick van dyke and Buddy

startled from some kind root beer float afternoon
slaying a ground squirrel with a .22
flying in the face of adversity
and wondering how he does that

A Cristol ship of
sparkling wine proportions was sailing
from the Port of dreams on the coffee table

Dr. Bacchus was in his office.
His nurse came on the intercom.
"two men here to see you from the CIA, doctor."
Bacchus opened his desk drawer,removed a vial of tablets, opened them, took two with water and cleared his throat.
"Tell them to go fuck themselves"
"Yes, doctor."

effulgence
is binary
motivation
for the erstwhile
transcendence
promoted by the vagaries of abstruse profligation,
in other words "Back it up, Bonehead"
Mister keester brain has taken the backseat to an adventure
in stereo
and a remote sensor has indicated a stop at the Taco Bell drive thru
is mandated
"Forward Thinking" that's what we need!
His glove box was not without it's faults

Mr Time marches on
wendell the earth clock
is breezing his life away
what a dog!

as the underwhelming feeling
of corporate
monarchy
pursued
a logical tangent
mistaken
for Hive-like
borg-esqueian
ravings of the tempered
steel and under duress
concrete waves are broken
by sub harmonic dissidence
and the folds of existence march to the tune
of down syndromes
and we the people
e pluribus unum
and other
methonic tutelage
creeping through our tv's and are you going to eat that?

pre dawn earthquake
woken to a jolt
now eating some
kind of non gluten
flakes
and low fat soymilk

ahh the end
newspaper clippings
and stacks and stacks
of
boxes
filled with the seeds
of the trees outside the house

I might need those
I might need those
I need those

check the light switch
did you?
check it again

in the basement are the
ceramics
under sawdust
rat poop
and wood scraps

dig and clean wash and sneeze
can you smell the photo chemistry
and the stacks of photos
she was a professional photographer
for a few years

before the baby

his knowldege of
the local Groceterias
was encyclopedic

which had the largest rubber band ball
which owners were named Mohammed
which would sell looseys
which could you shoplift a cold beer

towards the end he would only speak of the red man
and the time, Halloween
when he had given him
a jumpsuit

before he knew what was
wrong
it was
and he was and
it was
and he felt the need
of chik-fil-a

the font of knowledge
an unbroken chain
rivered in deep canyon
and pulled from
the mouth of
the silver ore
twisting in sycamore
and the bleeding
stemmed from dehydrated lips
twas a remington over under
and cassius clay pronouncements
I am The Greatest
before slowly sleeping in
until the pain
subsided

if the room on laussat bred
beat era dreams
woven in the smoke and cat hair
the
whiskey beer and whiskey
the cigarettes and boom
badda
boom
badda boom sh tip sh tap
he talked to jim Carroll
one night
and left for New Orleans
repeatedly
he used to wave at them out the window
and later sleep with them
running across Market st one night
against the traffic he dropped
his gin and tonic
99 cents at the Church St. Station

chro-mytial
creamora
creosote
and cryogenics
cry baby cry
the path of least existence
morning glory seeds
were said to cause tummy ache
and beautiful
hallucinations
He couldn't cope with a Chrysler coupe
phlegmatic
and phylogenic
he smoked a filtered cigarette and didn't
think about Jack Kerouac

2:31 AM rene: go to bed
g
2:32 AM me: what are you doing up?
rene: just waking up
me: oh I just woke up also
rene: getting a shot in my back this morning
me: shot in the back
2:33 AM like frank & jesse james
rene: for my herniated disk
me: cortisone?
rene: yes
maybe will held
me: well hopefully that will help for a while
2:34 AM rene: help
will see
me: what else?
rene: but..got to go take a shower
2:35 AM getting ready to get out of my house by the first
me: wow
end of an era
rene: yes
me: good for you!
rene: 10 years
me: hasta la by by
2:36 AM rene: lots of crap to throw out
me: i bet
rene: car in the shop
running good again
sell???
me: ???
or store?
you need cash
2:37 AM sell!
rene: thinking of shiping it?
fuck yeah
me: to France ?
rene: yes
me: not bad ...
rene: need a car there too
me: yeah. how much to ship?
2:38 AM rene: ?? got many quotes
800
1400
2000
2400
the list goes on
me: any custom fees?
rene: ?
on the other side?
me: yeah
2:39 AM rene: dont really know yet
2:40 AM me: That might be a good idea =taking it with
rene: hope so
me: you'd look good
rene: ha
me: 5oo bad it doesn't have the vegas plates
rene: they are in the trunk
2:41 AM me: haha
nice
rene: ok got to take a shower
me: okay go
rene: clean my ass
me: have a good day
rene: u 2
me: ok ciao
2:42 AM rene: ciao

from the court of the
Gentiles
irony there
the money changers
the temple's own coin

a stone was
a stone
and it was good for him
he wasn't(stoned)
and the sunshine and air felt
good

tellurian concentricities
parked near the Sprouse-Reitz
and venturing from sporting goods to
bric a brac
he swallowed his fear of used clothing
and pushed his way into
the air conditioned St.Vincent de Paul.
a cloud of ennui enveloped him
it smelled like an old record album
and was shaped like a plastic cover for
something unknown
he veered from the BOOKS section
careened into shoes
stumbled on framed artwork
banged his shin on furniture
lost his mind in wigs
luckily he could see his car through
the glass
he made for it and didn't look back.
he heard a voice as he started to insert the key
into the car door
"Archie?"

Following Arthurian analogies
he metastasized
a druid like
polyp
the sword in the kidney stone
was felt somewhere near his
"lady of the lake"
and three maidens in starched whites
could not avail themselves to
his relief
Undaunted he, in purple and dark crimson,
drank a dram of meade
and passed out in
the barnstable
toward morning he espied
with clear thought
Ganymede's steadfast unity
and closed his eyes to
worrisome dreams

bedraggled
purveyor of scrabblesian
aramaics
His half shekel existence
was eroded in arctic fashion
a sno cone vista
apanopolic down comfort
for one low price!

based on reports
the sense of urgency
was heightened
chronic doubters
were steadfast
in their pursuit
that evil had ocurred
at some forementioned locale
and the demon was sought
and vanitized
as effigy
and myyrh

s'mo tig
s'mo tiggle
smo taggle
smo too

I'm drowning in air
and so are you


s'mo tee
s'mo tie
smo tinkle
smo bye

I'm living the life
and I'm not even high


can you catch a bus?
can you ride a wave?
can you read the stars?
can you sit in bars?

smik smik smick
smickers bar
bare handed back watered
sliding along
the serpentine

The man who put advertising on the moon

We focused laser imaging from simultaneous satellites,adapted the technology to scheduled satellites and using 24 hour solar energy and multiple satellites we generated sufficient electromagnetic radiation, a fancy word for light, through a process of optical amplification based on the stimulated emission of photons to umm, well, shine images on the moon. The technology itself was not groundbreaking just the application. Well, it caused quite a ruckus. Coca-Cola quickly bowed out due to a planet wide groundswell of hatred toward this most blatant commercialization of the beloved Luna. We were hit with multiple lawsuits and the international fervor threatened to cause a world war. My photo was on the cover of Time, Newsweek, Wired, and many, many other publications with the title of the most hated man on the planet. It was impossible to go anywhere. I never thought people would care but when that green Mountain Dew logo was beaming down from the night time sky people went batty!
Needless to say I was forced into hiding and became a ruined man. My wife left me, children disowned me. No one would have anything to do with me. But, really, I have to say I thought it was pretty cool. NASA put a man on the Moon but I put the biggest Coca-Cola logo ever, right on the moon. We even showed films. My favorite was Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. On the moon! Who are those guys?!

Troy DaVinci was tired, Dog tired. He had been working for ten hours on his latest invention, the redactable transmodifier. He had figured out the problem with the antwerp capacitators but he was having trouble connecting the oscillating pinion arm to the enveloping chassis.
As the only living descendant of the famous Leonardo vast expectations were put upon him. While yet a child he had created the screaming nightmare reducer which secured him not only a sizable income but incredible fame and media attention. Since then his inventions had been received with only mild curiosity and lately a certain amount of derision. The Confounding Foundation Flayer had been viewed as failure, as had the Primitive Peoples Perplexity. After that had come the Giant Wonder, which was far from wonderful. A store clerk had lost an arm during a demonstration and his insurance premiums had since skyrocketed. He had taken the clerk into his employment and made him his assistant but the young man was far from grateful and took every opportunity to remind him of his inability to play the lyre which had been "his calling".
Troy sighed.
'Why do I continue on these adventures in futility?'
He poured himself another glass of Ouzo. He hated Ouzo but it was the only thing in the castle left to drink.
From the window he could see out onto the Great Lawn where his current lover, the princess Deltrina Malfosa, was rolling in the grass with Sven, the hirsute stable boy.
'Darn, they have such innocent fun' He thought to himself.
He lit another Marlboro and watched them holding each other in the grass as the sun slowly set.

PV

of all the snow
birds no
one was immune
they were not waiting
for the inevitable
but it came anyway

a poem gets on the elevator

I pushed the button to the elevator
fifth floor
and Charles Bukowski's poem
stepped in.
It stared at me hard for a split second and then looked away quickly, reeking of
alcohol, cigarettes and
the horse races.
"Going to see my publisher" it said. "I think I might be in print next month."
I got out at the wrong floor and took the stairs.

Beat the windows felicity!
cadaver the ingenue

Popeye says well
BLOW ME DOWN
and the
Sox ain't got no Rico Petrocelli

ghastly ruin
burrowing in the sanctity
of earthen ramparts
we assailed the stars
with satiric melodies
and stormed our senses
for an emotion

the white walls
spoke to my sense
of classic humor

sanitariumesque
Lenny Bruce like monologue
from a Diane Arbus photograph woman
with some strange bonnet
and talking at a pace I would hard pressed
to compete with.

sanctity of the streets and listening to
the voices
muffled through walls
a missing Hello Kitty umbrella
and a child told to take a pill

smoke another cigarette
eat a Payday , drink some bottled water with bubbles
on the doorstep
as the housemates friend
with nowhere to stay leaves the
house with her suitcase
at 10:34 pm

Oh what a movie

movie starts with this:
Iggy Pop working at Gas/Mart

driving around the lake
watching the sky
for aliens or Gargamel
firing at police cars
with their sirens blaring
turning into gin and juice
with my mind on my money
we stop to get coffee
and cigarettes
Iggy pop is working behind the counter
his name badge says Iggy Pop
it really is Iggy Pop
we're embarrased by the whole thing and ask him
if he's ever met Todd Rundgren
He says he did in the mid-eighties in
San Francisco
but now
there's a line behind us so we say good by
"loved the stooges, man"
even though I never really listened to them
and we're back on the road
for some reason we start fighting
"that wasn't really Iggy Pop"
"yes it was!"
we stop talking. We're listening to the radio and suddenly
Lust for life comes on-
bomp bomp bomp bu bomp bomp bu da ba domp

'Here comes johnny yen again
With the liquor and drugs
And the flesh machine
Hes gonna do another strip tease.
Hey man, whered ya get that lotion?
Ive been hurting since Ive bought the gimmick
About something called love
Yeah, something called love.
Well, thats like hypnotizing chickens.'

I say "yes I have had it in the ear before"
I am just a modern guy

Protagonist wakes with a start from sweaty morning sunshine dream, sits down at the computer and starts tapping

Across the river the Fornicators had put up their ramparts. We hunched in the drizzly rain wishing we were back home. Occasionally they would fire off one of their, what we called, splatter bombs. These were largely ineffectual and usually dreadfully off target. Once one landed in a nearby lake and killed a large amount of fish. That was a good night. We had a fish fry and Rudy played his accordion. We could hear them across the river doing that weird whistling thing they do whenever they sense we weren't completely miserable.
On Tuesday Jeroge said he shot one of them and it seemed to be the case because all day we could hear them rearranging their fortifications and firing their guns randomly.
After the third war the Fornicators had risen from mutations of their cerebral cortex. They were known as the Fornicators because of elevated testosterone and progesterone levels and because they spent about ninety percent of their waking hours having sex. One escaped prisoner said he had been impaled in every orifice repeatedly for several weeks. And, from the look of him, we believed him.

I don't know what I'm doing.
I don't have anything to say.
My life is boring and there is nothing
worth telling. Everything is just ego. some perverse desire to be
recognized as some kind of smartypants.
it has nothing to do with wanting to share anything. it is about me me me.
that is all.

step

step
broken
wood




step
step

on





shotgun
evening





listening to the



sound








breaking 'in the humdity
of perspiration sweaty armpits
n a cold frittata


expired
milk

a half gallon

moo cow milk
moo cow





sitting

in the




grass


smoking a cigarette

and


hoping




hoping


for the


clouds to pass

Muriel left her groceries in the car.
The rabbit was obviously not ticking.
But that didn't mean there wasn't cause for alarm.
placing her hand on an electric eye she pressed
toward the wall. The small of her back was pushing against
the edge and it was starting to leave a painful mark in her skin.
This she imagined. But that didn't mean she didn't feel it.
It was awkward. Horribly awkward. She tried to shift her weight but
there wasn't a position that would be easier to do what she needed to do.
Suddenly with a crash the whole thing came down, ledges, tumblers, davenport,
and the fennel.
The groceries waited in the car.

my partner in crime has hightailed it
but that has not
stopped or slowed me down
probably the opposite

i've taken to robbing thread stores
and wallet factories
the lack of surveillance is stupefying!

I guess I could live my life on the lam
but that seems too easy
I'll live my crime out in the sunlight
waiting for that crisp smell
of the changing season; Fall.

endless
head over heels
breaking wheels
felling insecure
and boasted of a brain
i'm trained
to denigrate
all that which is right and good
sit you down father rest you
for I am the light of the light that has
lighted
the world
are you ready?
no ?
well take the essence of
doldrum
and and mix with vincent
and a toxic dose of ex angst
and ya know
al lomax
would take you to the smithsonian
to show you a stolen anecdote
and dignan is a name
broken family
broken hearts
broken vase
broken time
broke and bored
wm shakespeare never had it so good!
the von trapps live down the highway from the Frosts
all in good time my pretties!
all in good time!

pressing the flesh
for a simpler
season and freedom! but the free
is not cheap
the toll it takes is on one's skin
and liver
a penny memory
pressed to oval
"the new ones come out better"
but if I could be, looking at the photo online,
like you
with space to breathe
and porta potties still
stocked with paper
forgive me lord
for I have sinned

funnel cakes
and biofuel flakes
they're GERRROOOSSSSSS

my fortune waits
with late night yogurt
and blueberries at the bottom

abreast
The Furies,
Avast Ye PRIVATEERS
songs sung to thyself
in reeds of glass
I know my body's electric

United for Defeat

an enormous
head cold
walked into
a protest
typewriter
typewriter
typewriter

with leaves of yellow
amber

positioned for a 64 Camaro
and
spell check
spell check
spell check

I dont eat no fried foods
no more

what with my triglycerides
n all

barking at the unison of
non standard stoppages

in farcical fashion
one must preserve the appearance
of allowing God
to kill

and people oh people
so dependable
we are a violent and stupid bunch
but so lovely and sweet!

night and dei
day and nigh
T
T is for time
stuck inside a BART train

a river of thoughts
flooding into action
behind the corridor
behind the white door
testing
the response
with alchemical aspirations
turning cocaine into sleep

behind the versions
of redheaded stepchildren
which are buying and selling our
future
the GREAT SNAKE has risen
with forked tongue
and a thousand smiles