Green marrow

in the bone street

You drove a hopped up Camaro 

And we smoked marijuana

And drank Molsens 

 I carved a likeness in chocolate fudge

But the fudge wasn't cooked right

And didn't harden

But we ate it

With a spoon and licked the pan clean

On a hot summer day

In 1973

 I opened a forward thinking consideration

Uh oh

That's one Pantera's box you don't want to open!

Ben Stiller might come out

And say hey you stole my joke!

 I had a memory made of teeth

But it always needed to go to the dentist

"Are you flossing?"

"Umm"

"These two will need to be pulled- 3rd grade

And when you were on unemployment at age 31"

"Umm"

 I gave a thousand fucks

Everywhere I turned I gave a fuck 

Until they were all gone!

My pockets were empty

The bank account of fucks was depleted

I tried to write a check 

But the paper crumbled in apathy

The wind blew in startled derision

The moon howled 

 Down "there's no mercy street"

On this map 

Of the moon

Your plasma driven aches

Called forth a song

But it was forgotten by the wind

On an icicle moon bird

(See instructions on page 7)

 Dreaming of Christopher Smart

But that's neither here nor there

A Giant Ray burst forth

Twas an explanation

Of scales and cloven hoofs

And what to have for lunch

 Green was an idea

Long ago when the washing machines were new

You tasted the divine

In a casual sense

Believing that it was enough

Until you saw the heights

Of Daedalus 

From afar 

Your wax wings didn't melt as you went higher

The cold made them harder

And you flew on

 Realms of the fortunate failures

Belied an inopportune cohesion

Between the mind and the non-mind

Dressed in hickory hues

And wearing a beaver/hare fedora

Taken from the Napa Valley Theatre Company

It was a scramble to God

Through the poison oak

Bedlam and an album by Prince

 There was bright star

In a frozen yesterday

By the 7-11 

In a car named VYL

 

 I moved the broken turmoil

Who broke it?

It's not known

Some took credit

"I did it!"

But they were glad handing the wastrel prophet dwellers

"See it was on a Tuesday, my day off work?"

Their shoes were a dead giveaway

"Go to your doctor and tell her you have a misstep in your parallax! Now go!"

The broken turmoil

Was no longer broken

 Twas a ménage a zero

No one took part

Seemingly indifferent

To the passing phases of the body

Like a giant flower of death

It bloomed in the night

And smelled sickly sweet

We stood and watched 

Mesmerized by the nothing flower

Blooming in the night air

 I had a spoken word crime

It was unhatched in the early nineties

In times of very cold weather

And streets of crack

There was a meanness to the nights

And it caused my thoughts to turn to crime

Be there

Be where

Be the one

Try the sky

Turn to burn

See the sun

Turn in its home

Be left

Behind and 

Worry no 

More

The Forest of Belief!

 

 It's weird not having any booze

Sitting around thinking

Thinking about nothing

Not doing anything

Thinking about not having any booze

 The green pie

Was not heavily traveled

Are you weary?

Were there flowers at the time of dinosaurs?

 The Moon shot a long shot

On the dark side

The silicon based life forms 

Sang their communicative individual songs-

The songs wrapped around each other

And formed conversations-

They lived hundreds of thousands of years

and their only goal was that no others should ever know 

Of them

 A career of yearning

The pay wasn't good

And the hours were long and hard

They said hang in there 

Promotion has your name on it!

That was ten years ago

Now I'm rich and retired!

Everything works out!

 I grabbed a fence of disbelief 

It was sharp and jaggedy 

I walked into the forest after and sang a long made up

Song about William Blake of whom 

I know nothing about

A cloud came overhead and soon it started to rain

I went to get eggs and bacon for breakfast