In the morning we hotwired the volvo
and siphoned gas from a car parked on the road
the dog came with us
we had no way of knowing when or if George was coming back
we found plenty of canned goods
and we took a share
the house had been in fine condition
we were there for three days and no one showed up
we took the back route
through the hills
and the dog was happy

The Wars of Tecate had
left boulders and buildings
across roads
and San Onofre
split the sky
with torn aching
cries
we breathed smoke from the burning refineries
and stole a motor boat
went up river
to george's house on the hill
but everyone was gone
except a hungry dog
who we fed and then he fell asleep

when i woke up to
the sound of dribbling rain and smoked too many cigarettes
got dressed and
went to Oakland
worked eight hours
calling Tennessee
came home and ate Ethiopian at a restaurant
and a glass of red wine
came back home
and it is still hot
and still air
and no rain

as the
spent
weakened
boring
snoozefest
m'fuckers
stare
at the ocean
you order a
a hero
with oil
and peppers
and
a
diet coke
the car
is smotheringly
hot
and the
ac
is
not broken 

I have no memory of
what I am
the cells reproduce
I am drying out (if only)
maybe it will rain

I captured the foamy essence of your soul
it soaped and steamed
slipped in the tub
now it's towelling off

"towel off you sod!"

binary motion in flowers
candid ellipses through social media
epistolary reoccurences of carniverous cephalopods

I've fromed the frigate
frigging
frackers
frealz

crisp hunger while smoking in bed
wearing underpants and the window is open
there is no breeze
I'm hungry

charting the flox
furgettin the finer furry
freaks
meandering
in rythmn guitar chops
the paint was peeling but
it wasn't a bad day
70 degrees at 3 am
i had to go
i couldn't listen to it anymore
they're ruining my life with their blather
i'll look at pictures
and think about leaves

cough expat
reminder down the try
 harooom
biggity
my       stop
                  set
point
collide

haha beers maybe are

in order blue
button down
 
but sweating
in the sun and selling mangoes
sliced (in bags)
sweet sticky

and delicious

mozambique messiah
of the misery
a million legacies and a thousand hungry voices
the dying are not heard they just die
and the tv stations bark like dogs
forensic footballers falling and fading
heads bite the dust but the money rolls in
are you with us captain
the streams of our youth sullied with sardonic empire
sullied like the cane beating the slave
this not thought out
we are all slave dealers 

flar
'

flar         flar
flappity

flar
'

flar         flar

jupiter

flar
'

flar         flar

fucking

flar
'

flar         flar

ice cream

flar
'

flar         flar

tomorrow

flar
'

flar         flar
flar
'

flar         flar

from the breaker
he saw a storm coming
the fire he built had gone out and
probably a good thing
he had a weeks worth of food
and zero ammunition
the cold would come on tonight and he had to find someplace dry
he checked the snooper for orders and nothing
their response was 10-96 Lay low
he had hoped to be picked up and transported to Central
but there was a major action in the lower central coast
and every carrier was busy freighting
he found an old barn and bedded down for the night when heard the rain start to come down
the hay was comfortable and the barn was dry
he feel asleep listening to the heavy rain

checking the coordinates on his snooper
Rafael sensed he was being watched
then he saw it
a Miasma Drone hovering at about 800 ft
it could be on a standard recon or it could be hunting
being so small they had to get fairly close to make a kill
he turned on his scrambler to block any microwave location capabilities
and he set the trap - a palmsized "jumper" with electromagnetic targeting
he set it for six seconds and started to run
drones like to hunt on the run
the jumper went off as the drone started firing
a .23 caliber bullet tore along Rafael's calf as he rolled into the cover of a cement divider
the jumper blew half the drone to pieces and the rest landed about thirty feet from Rafael
the machine gun was still firing into the ground
the operator had turned on the speaker and was laughing and cursing Rafael
in a dialect that sounded like Mamean 
he fired one shot and put out the speaker
"fuck you wingnut"
He sprayed cureskin on the wound and headed to the rendezvous.

and then again time moved in mysterious ways
seemingly backwards on a glance across the room
but no, it was just a shift in perspective
General Bosephus was reading a copy
of Mexico City Blues (242 Choruses) that he had found lying at
the bottom of the bombed out bunker of enemy officers quarters
he had also found a green plastic toy pistol that shot sparks when he pulled the trigger
Occassionally he would raise the pistol and fire
time passed backwards again as
he read