expression

is it butoh
is it kabuki
is it you
is it me
the sad's still
wrinkled
wearing out a
welcome never
extended or
expected to
last this long
where have you
gone

celebration

the sky is angry
with songs of dead
men grotesque
formations in
wounded attention
the mechanics of
collapse dance
'round sounds of
bottles broken &
cats cry hunger
towards the un
known stepping
thru pain & feelings
masked in obscure
expressions with
portents murky
in depth & splash

valentine's day

what is wrong with a
fish sitting in a tree or
a bird swimming in

a lake today i
dined from a nigerian
plate & drank coffee

strong as the snow out
side the window was cold yet
hinting of mango

etching

swinging on a swing thru
a psychedelic night so long
ago i'd almost forgotten
warm in the knowledge of
eternity & the ego of now
& the lake not far away the
mysterious lake like an
ocean to a land locked kid
& the sky an infinite canopy
preventing soul's premature
ejaculation into the harsh
dawn of reality & the cold
air of responsibility that now
almost 40 years later i can
still find the link unbroken
smelling the metal
of life like blood at the
end of a dream

daguerreotype

i looked at all the pictures
studied all the lines &
creases & the way your
hair colored & made your
eyes stand out & the smile
that you didn't mean &
the impression you'd been
given & i gave back how
it seemed & how it made
me sad 'bout missing
your in between but how it
all turned out is all i want to
hear 'cause the rest is only
pictures on the wall of a
house you no longer live of
a life you're trying to forget
& i got enough forget
of my own

equilibrium

a plastic spoon
in old age mouth
& cottage cheese

a chin coated one
haired beard
uncombed

a brittle cork in a
bottle of wine
sedimentary

a leaking bag of
failed pieces pooling
under the seat

a desperate person
passed out on
suspicion street

where
no one hears you
curse or

sees me steal your
wallet
now we're even

avatar

i am evident
one of the ten
can you not see
have you not eyes
do you not feel my
presence

i am vishnu
part & parcel
the creator & the
destroyer
that's ok
i forget some too

lament

down in the crypt
the sky is a hole
in the dark that
smells of dead roses
& new turned earth
occasionally intruding
a stray shaft of light
to tempt the cold &
remind me of loss
there are no mirrors
here only time to
reflect amongst the
tangled roots of
ancestry & the thunder
of life overhead with
nothing to fear but
black echoes
whispering
resurrection

fragrant cabbage

climbing ominous stairs
darkness getting darker
death scrawls the walls &
blood puddles the steps
drips from wounded pipes
staining the warped wood
in shadow from behind the
damp air sucks upward
towards oddly numbered
doors slowly congealed
of liquid whispers beckon
like rusty crones crooked
fingers cooked of all life
waiting for mushrooms to
blacken into maturity or
social security which
ever comes first

keep the change

talking to myself in some
barely open bar watching
the bartender watch the
clock like he’s waiting for
loneliness to leave i think
i missed something / some
thing important between
last call & ‘close that fuckin’
door’ so i got up & walked
outside & pissed against
the alley wall drowning
out the sound of footsteps
the sound of traffic watching
the yellow river flow from
the bayan har mountains
to the bohai sea & thinking
‘damn / this graffiti shit got
it all wrong’