install a mod for plants and feels

2015-08-23 01:49:49

downtown i walk and stare
up at buildings solid like in
video games:
inert pixels
covered in dead windows glowing
with looped lights.

if i can get inside i'm
somewhere else,
a level outside this space and time
surrounded by NPCs who stare through me
and repeat the same sad days
whether i'm there or not.

every inside is a place
separate from its exterior.

roll in with a katamari
get so big you tear the walls
into yourself
and see the void surround.

somewhere else, walls still stand
like shitty western sets made volumetric.


in the bathroom, a bored metal clanging

2015-07-31 17:37:50

the living are the flesh and blood
ghosts of the dead
shouting nervously and
scaring the silent buried.

we'll talk about it when there's time
and gray enough to cover
years of skin
stretched too thin
over the unspoken.

dead moss remembers the sun that caressed
and the piss of baby deer,
and layers of dead butterflies,
and the tall trees turned to soot
as it passes back
into soil.


SYNET072

2015-04-27 21:22:21

ride fast and sweat past
birch ignoring the trees' coy pleading.
find oaks bottom and glide past
goths hugging ipads playing
youtube snuff on stolen wifi.

grimace knowingly at the poet
sipping fanta. soar through sun beam bars
and suck flies through baleen teeth. choke
in a glade.

it doesn't take much to make a deathbed
blooming rotted joy even when sandwiched
between speeding subarus and warehouses full
of country echoes.

rub your skin covered in dead things like
a road trip wind shield. wetly crush
mosquitoes while crouched
at the edge of traffic.

make an oozing camouflage on your flesh
and sing sweet psalms
to the cadaverous twilight.


up and out the charnel stack

2015-04-02 23:46:23

i spat wine and black globs
became ash became ants streaming
out of toilets and pooling
around me:

a black mass glistening and
writhing like the alien from Alien,
threatening without hate.

oh frightening mass:
i consented to fuck you
but forbade you touch my feet.


do not touch their clothes for they are clothed in poison

2015-03-26 17:01:32

sit outside and stare at a suit. look
into their eyes and see how they fail
to see you. try to think of them naked
but remember that would kill them. see
through them and into time and see how
little they've changed: ahead and behind
the suit is just
death and wealth
death and wealth
death and wealth
death and wealth
smeared carelessly
over the earth like
pats of continental breakfast butter
grabbed by the handful and stripped,
crinkled gold discarded.

do not allow yourself
to become distracted.

to dreams,
distraction is as deadly
as a white man.


poetry gleaned from staring at a wall of ephemeral cyberpunk haiku generated at random intervals

2015-03-06 14:24:09

for more poetry like this, check out my cyberpunk prophecies series

and everything else
coming in on the phone lines
the body would die

not my department.
the turrent swung back and forth
and she was lonely.

like badly spliced film
but now after eating poor gurdle?
there's twelve of them

he had no armor
gathering the wild forage
i saw the screen

i need custom work
he always wore his spacesuit
she didn't say a word.

he told the soldier
i will own many shiny
you ever seen that?

but i said nothing
and then i held him away
extending his hand

i owed him money
my mother always taught me
dna death code

himself exactly
the dog was still rather gaunt
look at the weak tree

cry yourself to sleep
i went out on the surface
clanging of cages

She worked quickly now
I was filled with peace and hope
as bodyguards should

“I know what you mean"
"You intend to destroy us"
"Unless you join us"

Same in Galveston:
spiraling out of control.
Glyph 3: The Robots Revolt


angel's rest on a crowded day, or, #rudeteens

2015-03-03 22:30:40

all i want is to piss
alone on this mountain away from rude teens
and arguments about hash tags.

i'm not sure how to summarize your day in
run-on witticisms.
like the trees and rocks and
flowers prematurely blooming
i don't love or understand you but
i at least accept you.

suggested hash tags for your day:

hash tag i'll be dead one day
hash tag i hope my body is fodder for flowers one day
hash tag my life is a foil for the steadfast infinity of rocks
hash tag my god is my self and it will die one day too
hash tag when i feel a soreness in my limbs i feel a particular kind of loneliness i can't digitally convey
hash tag i have at least two copies of every friend and i no longer know which copy truly loves me
hash tag great day outdoors


the strange life and new life in death of a sentient car

2015-02-17 23:49:10

i was challenged to write a poem about a sentient car so uh here you go

my mother: robot shrill drilling my parts together
while dad and dad and dad and dad
made sinew out of molten metal.

out of the belched black smoke
of a factory womb i rolled
onto trailers overpacked with
siblings only i could see.

i can't forget the smiles
of the men gleaming cold
on showfloor after showfloor eager
to usher another stranger
into me.

you found me and i hated you.
you ground me down and stared through me
and only at me to judge and pick and re-
configure. my insides boiled over
at the whim of your careless stomp.
i sang the songs you taught me strangled
over wires and wanted to spit them out.

i saw the
truck
coming.
i knew fear and joy and you,
then, more intimately than ever: i held you in
my
mangling
embrace.

at peace now i rest your tool no longer.
in pieces i am whole; in pieces i am total.


say your words and do not worry

2015-02-09 18:28:44

tell me you love me and make it hurt.

our ribs are a spear bridge
tearing from me to pierce
into you and it hurts
but we love it like rainbow road
because it is beautiful and deadly
and has no railing.

let's hit boost pads
and go through loops
and look for power ups
and fly radiantly off the track
and die in the stars together
at the back of the n64.

tell me you love me in those stars.


optical mouth

2015-01-19 11:26:35

i've burnt every memory onto dollar store
cd-rs and around my body built walls like
snake skin into an upright coffin.

blue and purple are the imperfect reflections i see
of my face on every side and every angle.

in here i am deprived of everything but
myself. i'm in love with false narratives
and dead dreams staring back at me perfectly
preserved but irrationally written.

to molt: i cut the corners of my mouth
and slide each disc in scratching lines
of misperception with my teeth on top and bottom.

my stomach, sick with corrupted checksums, waits to
regurgitate lossy thoughts again tomorrow.


love letter to literally no one

2014-12-27 01:10:43

oh, sweet avenger:

fist my face and pull out my anxieties tarp-wrapped like a river corpse and
mashed together like black mold balled up by shaking fingers.
rub it on the walls and write a poem that smothers
this place with inner filth like waterboarding in reverse
and in slow motion.

now, touch your lips to mine.
shotgun the fetid air from my lungs and
transmute it into perfume designed
by one who loves scent
in the way only a blind person can:

i will love myself like that one day.


frazzle hack

2014-12-23 00:40:13

you took my picture and gave me a soul.
you put it on facebook,

but it was a ghoul soul decayed
and rotted upon upload.

pitch over your pinterest and pour me out:
i am not your arts and crafts,
i am not your beautiful wedding,
i am not your year in review.

delete my tweets from your computer:
i don't want to be in you.
take out your disks and ram
and disembowel them.
bury out back the remnants
upside down backwards and re-
polarized.

but leave me on your g plus page
empty and sepulchral
for google bots to grope and pull,
parsing nothing but mistakes.


comatose matter floating in some kind

2014-12-19 03:05:46

friends: i say that i am and ask, where?

the sick nurse is exhausted and has been woman
working full time on his case. I with offer to take
over her shift. She waist-long brightens.

I am explosions. Is this what's wrong? the nurse copies
earwig-like insects that feed on rooms.

she teaches me what to do, explaining each time hair
in that i will kill a bug and say the white hospital
killed a bug in the nightgown.

all this is just Virtual Reality dark anyway
crying and shaking and trying to quit
my self has bathroom divulging impossible.
i up the game's menu.

soldiers jump through a warranty
we just keep track and crush the bugs and and
crushing them i realize increasingly disgusted
to everyone.

work fast. eye contact now. don't damage with the brain piece.
it has to go back in us. "go get some sleep," the nurse
leaves and i stand there:

a glass container full of brain:
comatose matter floating in some kind
of land, green and preserved.
why disgusting bugs
wriggling and waking?

bugs' absence moving forward breathing,
it seems straightforward,
but best most professional possible guarantees
that this was enough basically.

"save and quit."

i am bearing a self terrified to quit
without saving a door thanking profusely
a crowd that may drink champagne women
moved into another room and finding
some kind of shrine.


a death at one hundred

2014-12-01 20:52:56

In 2014 I was born
And one hundred years later
I die:

Cut my brain and trace
The strata of radio signals
Layered deeper than the ocean.
Age my flesh by the layers of
Grime and smog and peer
Through my eyes to study distortions
Burned and worn by the rivulets
Of twenty four seven news cycles.
Trace on my fingertips the keys I have
Caressed from birth.

Scatter my bones like birdseed
Across the landfills and the wreckage
That they might find the screens that once told me
I was loved.


in oklahoma the trees were dead

2014-11-21 23:38:08

who flowers in death?
leave me your secrets:
carve them on your bark
skin and leak bloody ichor.
when coldness takes your petals down
i'll collect them in my ears and mouth
and make a vomit mosaic
vivid and bright
laid out until there's only
the sweet brown smell of rot.


emergent behavior

2014-11-17 18:42:43

My flesh laid out a scheme for me
Into which my fractured bakelight bones
Do not fit comfortably.

My eyes are peach pits desiccated
And spitting tears of slime and mold
Onto desert hands whence life has vacated.

My mouth is a graveyard tasting of decay:
Sticky bittersweet coating teeth and tongue
Morbidly resisting attempts to brush away.

My feet are burlap bags of broken glass
Stumbling, slicing, and grinding
Their way in circles over yellowed grass.

My body is a metal worm
Stimulated but unfeeling
Waiting for science to confirm.


conversation within contractual boundaries

2014-11-09 12:42:41

I got a new job
As a head,
Severed and sitting
At the top of the lighthouse.

I'd love it if
You came to see me, just
Click up the spiral staircase for
Seven screens and, oh

Make sure you got the iron key
By trading the nightcraft amulet
For the bag of gray walnuts to feed
To the many-headed hydra you caught
With the gleaming rainbow flower plucked
From the hair of the principal antagonist
Whom you taunted with the despairing
Sandals you got from the blithering knave
Who was really your undead son
From the future.

They could fire me, though,
If I make it too easy to find
The silver statuette you might need
To get across the flaming gorge. Really,
I don't think it's in the chest behind me,
Nor do I think the lock can be picked
With the metacarpal hidden beneath me.

I didn't care for the other
Players who made it up here,
So I saved my best dialog tree
For you.


o druidess

2014-11-07 00:55:48

take me as you would an oak:
soak my limbs in lavender
and hew them with a golden sickle.
hang my eyes with mistletoe.
pull out my ribs in pieces
and cast lots on green earth
beneath you.

dream of me inside your oxen
bigger than the boughs
that spread above in darkness
masking moonlight and our stars
crossed by iron crossed by bronze
and the falling pattern of bones
torn gently from my hands.

meet me in the bog
beyond time where perceptions murky
swirl slowly touched not by wind
but by staves pushed half
heartedly by the bearded men stuck
there on solid ground.


the death of ritual

2014-11-06 04:14:50

there is a myth that humans don't grow hair.
instead, our skins are bat wings
showing arteries that trace
maps to nowhere.

if all our blood was collected
would it be greater than the ocean?
though we build statues ever higher,
our refuse outstrips
the science we've neglected.

when quiet space we do conquer
what truly have we won?
to Mars though a ship may spring
what internal peace can we sequester?


satellite story

2014-11-04 02:36:08

a mother teaches her daughter the constellations of 2092 and they are all
made by human fists pounding on computer terminals
telling robots how to manifest their needs and desires and cravings
as airless blinking panels that market illusions around our sphere.

and the mother will tell her daughter that the shapes of tonight
won't last, will flicker out and perish into shooting stars
as costs exceed returns and new protocols replace old
and the bacteria of Io continue to stagnate, promising
evolution that never delivers.

and the daughter will grow and see the dying
power, the collapse of the clouded sun,
the day the outlets go dry and the lights fall from the sky
and are replaced by stars who have forgotten us,
and whom we have forgotten.

and the world will see, at least for one night
clouds that part and depart and reveal
the sublime novas unseen for years by flesh
foretelling this and every end
of us.


machine of hours

2014-10-25 16:50:54

From air and æther
I make ghosts
Out of friends.

From the null ache
Of dry lipped eye sore
I make statues crookedly
Staring at the heavens.

From you
I make myself
And all these machines
In between.


touch my back

2014-08-22 14:07:32

touch my back.
write your name
in looping cursive

with your finger tips
with a blue ball point
with a splintered stick

carve it with a paring knife
trace it with a velvet glove
clean it with ten grit

burn it in with a soldering iron.

burrow into the small of my back
and curl around my spine,
to hug it when it tenses.


i am playing counterstrike with you

2014-08-20 09:46:54

i am shooting you over
and over because it is an intimacy
obtained by my perspective
and yours.

i am looking at your ak
and you see my mac 10
and i know that you are
a seeing thing, looking at me
over miles of trash talk and
internet juvenilia.

here there is no yolo
and only holding my fire
makes me feel
left out.


movements in an office building

2014-07-03 11:43:18

a gnome at desk area
the janitor at second floor lobby
a computer at cubicles
a gnome at ground floor elevator
the janitor at cubicles
a computer at cubicles
a gnome at desk area
the janitor at second floor lobby
a computer at cubicles
a gnome at ground floor elevator
the janitor at kitchen
a computer at cubicles
a gnome at second floor elevator
the janitor at second floor lobby
a computer at cubicles
a gnome at second floor lobby
the janitor at second floor elevator
a computer at cubicles
a gnome at second floor elevator
the janitor at ground floor elevator
a computer at cubicles
a gnome at second floor lobby
the janitor at desk area
a computer at cubicles
a gnome at kitchen
the janitor at ground floor elevator
a computer at cubicles
a gnome at second floor lobby
the janitor at second floor elevator
a computer at cubicles


have you heard my startup pitch

2014-01-24 10:30:08

they walked together by habit
in only filthy coveralls
with little more sense than a rabbit
speaking of defunct protocols.

the stuff began to twist and writhe,
spilling over and draining out its side.
this was a most illicit enterprise
like netsites in roma provide.

they flung it into the gulf:
a pillow upholstered in scalp.
hands stained like the muzzle of a wolf,
they resumed kicking along the whelp.

like businessmen draped in the pelt of an art nerd
they turned their backs on this poisoned world.


alone, the run could not be completed

2013-10-27 11:02:24

it was fucking hot in florida,
coming in on the phone lines
with little pauses
in all the fields of dark.

the agony continued,
taken out of porn.
the leftovers from the robot girls
glowed pink with infrared heat.

featureless,
it’s hard to look at anyone
sanded free of logos.

if there were other netwalkers
who stepped into this oven

i guess she knew why.


a union of metals, a marriage of wires, a fusion of decks

2013-10-25 22:52:48

i crack the seal
and half the kingdom.
besides, the place is just
a ratmaze.

inside, the hat man pulls off
his night glasses,
and two icons follow.

i saw her death coming
masturbating where the best could manage.
the hacker was taken care of.
his cuffs were straightened.

i was married here,
where the guard was back already.
she’d grown extra arms
and her dance was undulating.
bitterly she said,

"i pay them a thing
in miniature,
a hatchet faced girl
dancing on stage:
our little baby
and our dirty laundry.”

it is her icon
supposedly long retired
activating your self destruct routine.

it’s dark for me.


the dataset was adorned with pills

2013-09-23 12:34:08

the look of someone
with no dreams
is media trance
and hurricane static.

in the new burbclaves
scowling into the ocean wind
longing for a bit of fun

a monster suicide rate
put pressure on the santa
monica morgue.

the metacop suggests
it was a second batch of the virus
and desperately hopes it’s true.


all that remained was a flashing prompt

2013-09-23 12:34:08

the failed academic
of clove cigarettes,
a couple of cats,
and famous landscapes
took no visitors.

she was the light of the place:
her oblivion chase
crossed both beauty
and squalor.

when he ran out of ideas,
he said nothing,
and sank in the same fluid.

the blank screen
is up to four:

impossible to make out the end.


at the museum of unexploded munitions

2013-09-23 12:34:08

the noise was a monster
from a lost era.

wincing at its bite,
the guard asked
about the knot in her throat
and the socket in her neck.

across the flat water,
sparks of static and
little anxieties
reeked of lichen.

her artificial eyes,
the unblinking eyes of the moon,
went wild.

they watched tv
and prayed.


radio signals still penetrated the dead husk

2013-09-23 12:32:00

under the spell of the vienna coven
and a focused thought from somewhere
i was waiting for a phone call.

at that moment
the opulence of the closed mall shops
held my ability to dream.

i found my treasure
before the machine could chime:
his memories,
messed up with snow crash,

blind and seeing.


tomorrow, in a sewer hermitage

2013-08-22 14:54:56

more of the robot baggage carts
had become denizens of the net.

they drink from the silver palm
assembled in orbit.

their memories are biochemical
and their nervous systems, partial
to the shock of your generation.

down the red wallpaper,
the jasmine smelled like musk
and junkies and prostitutes:

the comet of your disaster.


the cables were buried beneath a meter of trash

2013-08-22 14:52:48

she would have written programs
behind the junk clogged storefront
writhing like a live thing
up geysers of fire.

the city is melting into
cold and silent culture
dishes and leaking
drug vials that move only
as in a dream.

already it obscured her sight
up and down the grid.
eloquence deserted her
so she knelt
and said nothing.

it was tribal, twitchy
and would take some fancy
shadow walking.


young hands doing old work

2013-08-22 14:52:48

it would be nice, if
the gnawing edge of the antiseptic
faded, this lively sense
of the grotesque, this
silent protest.

i like this very much:
the color of old tools
on whom i can rely
seemed reason enough to smile.

the young apollo cast
a calm scent of coffee
from the closed door.

fluttering one of his petals,
ICE arcs from either side,
like coal powder streaks
like the twenty five worst air crashes
like the black chrome of my broken neck
like objets d art.

she will proceed as planned.


i looked at the text and my eyes were someone else's

2013-08-18 15:48:16

she, held prisoner by his will
took the cup held out to her.

how did you know i was online?
the skin feels no different;
i'm not even a woman,
and i don't make a lot of money.

he drew an x y graph
while the program cycled.

their lenses went black again
impossibly cold and distinct.
it's so hard to keep track.

despite ambitious punks
and cut off jeans
the voice came out lost,
desperate and little.


for the first time the lights of the city were dimmed

2013-08-18 15:46:08

the penile implant,
laced through the body of the city,
shaped the course of nations
with its wealth:
the only people to ever exist.

martial law gave
a false sense of peace.
armed fundamentalists
told you it was dirty.

eschewing comfort
becoming so thin as to be intangible
and not bothering to dress
she drops silently to the ground,

raising her captive hands
and teaching the bomb.


a fortress to house every crawling thing

2013-08-16 13:08:16

all sailor soldier types
they began screaming
and seemed to be headless.
they monitored the airport
and replaced it with

office space
any thing.

the cyborg got up
and stuck her hands
on her hips and

radiated fracture lines
around the chemical toilet
and through an unmarked door
at the back of the bar.

dark silk shirts
tan slacks,
all part of a scheme to

blow up
this section.

the Librarian says
it was something pre captivity.
a good sign.
where would the trigger be?


it wasn't ours but we lived there anyway

2013-08-15 06:37:52

at some point,
in the middle of the night,
we had our robot.

it felt more than right,
but the magic words were
back in the loft.

with a leech DIM handy we could deter a world with new meaning.


i saw it on the television and the television saw it in me

2013-06-27 16:54:24

i'd just as soon tackle polokov
and fire an amber stream into his mouth,
slamming into it.

they taught that to children
the codes barely registering.
he'd get something to eat
and burst into flames
and turn towards us
like cruel guitar feedback and
angry bagpipes

very likely for simstim.
i'll settle for glamour
with a view of the imperial palace.


in the glow of the monitors the basement was bright as day

2013-05-15 01:17:52

i stared and he smiled.
from his belly extended
shafts of light, yet he
looked mundane, with delicate
features and thinning hair.

he gathered up the trailing wire.
the data was neatly filed on the net
since papyrus was perishable.

behind the wheel,
moral questions run
together like gunfire.


they traced the wires into the windowless room

2013-05-14 12:14:56

she used her ISDN connection
because it meant taking that risk.
pausing to suck grime from her fingers
she did not understand what she herself had created.

his bones were pulled out, but
he still had his anger, fast
and ragged over the wet cobble
of a giant pump assembly.

it was black here, and riddled with tunnels.
the coleopter whimpers in metallic pain
to the distant throbbing of music:
a wave of grief and exultation.


seventy dead colonists

2013-05-11 20:19:12

an icon of liberation:
broken bottles and
styrofoam containers.

there was a silence,
an abdication of the pioneer,
and pieces of a korean pickup.

for a while, they were right,
after splattered dripping drinks
and a jittered laser track.

the alley was empty again
and i must not port
the sick lurch of my thoughts

or see the holo of the princess
that posed a danger
to the other power nations.


cyberpunk prophecy haiku

2013-05-11 03:23:44

"what's that mean?"
bundled like ganglia,
she sat beside him.

--

austerely thin and
riddled with cranial plugs:
he bent the console.

--

Danbala's a program
exhausted by the strain
prickling down her arms

--

to make a feast of her,
plenty of capacity:
a maas neotek


all of the tripwires make flesh

2013-05-10 02:09:04

he looked at the mushrooms,
and of the drug in the jacket
and of the derm in the cabinet.

someone who matters,
assertive air of ersatz authority,
they used that stuff.

security at the morrisey.
with his other hand
singapore is a phone call away


in our own way, afraid, and in the dark

2013-05-04 15:41:52

By way of Lady Grantham,
Ghouls came here often,
Seeing not with any eyes.

You have invited Strallan:
But life is a game, and we must appear ridiculous
With our starts of horror at our cosmic voyages.

I will ask Thomas.
No matter what comes,
Consciousness will manifest:
It is the frightened meeping of a ghoul.

This was not Jimmy's idea;
I like a man of strong beliefs,
But against my will he carried me
Beyond the last rim of the galaxy.


directed cutup with prosaic using Downton Abbey subtitles and selected Lovecraft works.


the terminal is red over black

2013-02-20 15:05:20

the eurocops know who he is:
their blue fatigues were spotless,
enthusiastic.

i'd begun to choke.
but i won't be dead,
the metamartians claim.

another dozen heartbeats,
the glowing girl said,
and then he was up.


tunnels under telemux

2013-02-19 10:10:56

it would have been nice, but
you've got to keep moving.

greta beatty smiled, then
she moved her head.

"i got some spare virching goggles, if
you'll follow me."

cobb could still see it clearly:
the name of the law on
her other hand.


a sizable crater

2013-01-09 09:53:52

"of course, this car floats."
Gabe said politely.
he wondered which star was hers.

Lindsay was afraid, so
she read for a while.
her hand rested on his knee

and they stank of fear:
if you desire,
a war against all.


dredge code

2012-12-03 17:06:56

it's that simple.
your mind is made up.

on the slow boat to china,
threads of impossible heat glimmer in
old fashioned Windows.

she was beaming,
here in the first world.


and through the wires shall course blood

2012-11-12 16:05:04

a woman of influence,
she starts to speak.

"in the flow of the global net,
death comes to all.

this year's model robot
must remove all barriers
and clean the streaks of blood."

the wire
tugs at her hand.


dr. hospital

2012-11-05 22:35:28

loose windrows
come unfalteringly.
Indeed, Algernon;
the patient lay still
with all the hapless silent lovers.


i have bathed your skyscraper in acid

2012-10-26 14:03:44

konstantin sighed,
"no major debris yet."
"not even rats."

"a pillbox in a liquor store,"
laura half laughed.
he looked at her sardonically.

the talking head
would be pleased, as
everyone benefits.

it is permissible to use clean sand:
it is fine now.


once, at a bar in a tokyo high rise

2012-10-08 12:38:24

eliot and hiro look over at vic.
"it's such a strange language."
a cheap and broken bic,
floating in drunk sewage.

it's from Kabuki:
flipscans in the corporate docket
of a burned branded jet ski.
she fished a scrap out of her back pocket.

But she was lonely.
one didn't have to wear a face mask,
to fail suddenly,
but she had decided to never ask.

"they know about your financial worth."
she shook the liquor back and forth.


the golden haze

2012-10-04 23:58:56

light squares swarm with golden haze
over trampled lawns when

that fat prick
slides up and cuts the wire that goes into my skull.

old dead dishes stood
while she fumbled with the toolkit.

she looked at me fiercely
and it got my brain working again.



cut-up piece generated by prosaic from a corpus of 30 cyberpunk novels


a treacherous line

2012-08-26 15:50:24

from these to emanate
their cries echoed dismay
“We are sure that he cannot reincarnate.”
nervous laughter echoed through the bay.

the other two were Exeter
they felt the double strain and tug;
he will be there next to her,
the treacherous line smug.

her very choice:
new jersey.
she’ll read joyce
on the anniversary.

half choked with sewer gas
none save the rats will pass.


simple sorrows

2012-08-26 15:50:24

The grass of spring covers the prairies
with all their simple sorrows
I saw nothing about fairies
in the plains of the poems of heroes.

with a flock of sheep
he now swats the pill
a bleeding heap
dreaming toward the till

he hardly spoke a word out to the southern suburb
an unofficial organ to georgetown
with an intermittent urge
beneath a mustached frown.

perhaps even with the wonderland dreamer
this works with the scalper.


the mindless other jupiters

2012-08-26 15:48:16

Jupiter shall emerge
with grace and tap gold whisky from her crystal keg
and see the whole man converge
cutting the lashing of his waterproof leg.

Every incident should have some bearing on the denouement.
have you ever seen a ghost?
every fiction should have some bearing on our denouement.
what was his proudest boast?

blabbing by rote
an exceptional touch
has been slightly torn or wounded in the throat.
fingers say too much.

pile the words of the earth
to protect him and teach him his worth


an ugly sun

2012-08-26 15:37:36

we turned our eyes to the moon and
the clouds stopped,
the moon an ugly sun obscured.

our eyes are dead, all seeing
the dream that repeats and will
one day replay not over green
but gray when us and them
are cavities, open to space.

linked to me and back,
my spine is drawn and we
don't know yet gray from green
or one from another.

the blue blanket drawn lazily
moves on: slipping, falling,
crumpling from the bed.


press haiku

2012-08-26 15:37:36

PUBLISHERS NEW YORK
A FIGHT WITH TWO WILDCATS
No, he was all right!


SEXT.

2012-08-26 15:35:28

a besieged hot aqueduct
died soon after
the failed conquest of the Celibate

sex will be slaughtered
condemned

Yet
it is
still to be unraveled.


the legless crowd

2012-08-26 15:35:28

Harry's son nodded.
Three columns and two arches.
GLORY MAY NOT LAST.


thick liver

2012-08-24 16:41:36

"thick-skinned, liver, believers

very social blesssssing"

estranged mock
crapshoot.

Inevitably, concedes,
Tinnitus.


depressive effectiveness

2012-08-24 16:30:56

frenetic fame
children

pregnant. motioning,
continues

blurted
speechless

Sluggishness, distored
production.

depressive effectiveness


flower haiku

2012-08-24 16:28:48

when words will not do
undermine my suffering
with just a flower


through steam

2012-08-24 16:26:40

a brown constellation
among black night-hairs

leads not to undiscovered lands
but rather the same

shit-smell &
sweat-curls.

I've come to expect.


morning haiku

2012-08-24 16:22:24

8am platform
pink blossoms and urine reek
better than a car


in the shadow of lincoln cathedral: an elementary text-book

2012-08-24 16:20:16

The bodily heat falls very rapidly.
"It's my lungs I'm worried about," Mary said.
Gabriel, why did you ever set your heart on me?
You had charge of the funeral arrangements.

There was no tribute but their tears.
You had charge of the funeral arrangements.
[Sidenote: Result of the contest.]
He did not want to let Renovales go.

But the contest irritated the king.
That husky young boy was her son.
"Did they tell you, Mariano?
She must stay at home and work for others."


lajima

2012-08-24 16:20:16

Symertoerton
LOS ANGELEyajima
abilityists


marta haiku

2012-08-24 16:18:08

dirty and screaming
a metallic snake from hell
marta train goes by


filipino vinyl

2012-08-24 16:16:00

Although the cargo was taken out,
it was after it had been in the water. more than one half months.

Updated editions will replace the previous one-
the old editions will be renamed.

The soliders were ordered not to allow him
either bed, food, or drink.


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