Sunday, May 26, 2013

vitamin and silver for our fetishists

Then, moving up the last flight of stairs, the way prophets and fools want to reach the stars, X, a blot, mostly durable, faces the idol, stares, one foot raised, face lugging, heaving towards monstrosity. X holds history of space and history of form. The idol, beyond every bridges and islands. Cold breeze from fogfucked shores.  


5 hoots



 House by the River.

everyone sat, down, to eat.


Xylem -phloem through tree of head

Cosmic tree outside


Cat inside stares at cat outside

Cat outside stares at cat inside


The numbered other

O my stamped friends

Killer Monday comes

Me tied to tracks

Beaten, beating

Beautiful world, kill-hoop of dreams

The last sound of time and destiny and creation

Runs towards

New month

New light of mind is green, attributed

Break more, hold branches,

Smooth, flowerlove

There, another tree

Cold ancient friends from first forest of world

Gathers around spine of fires

Of Universal stay

To eat fingers and bones.

of rust.


O God. Dimmed,

Eggs. Remember, nostalgia

Human X, sweaty, wants to catch

 cold swan

from river.

The river is old.

Break actual nature of swan

Feast in duck-meat. Fires lit by fingerslit canopy.

In love with soft sounds of cooking,


We return to our old kitchens

Loving you, I did. Dot of light approaches

Keep count of sunsets.

Do you remember me, nostalgia?



No one in birthshadowed solitude

Other shadows are outside

Tigerlit dawn through fires, tiger-shadows on walls of world.

I lay down my sword

I kneel

I weep.

Run to the pieces

This me. How to return without you? Flames, leap,

from fields.

Sounds in the wind.


Beautiful, once, this life, you know I run. kill it. gouge eyes. slit wrists.

I move up

I move down

your solitude, love, loving,

we awake darkness, sounds through silence,

our sounds of love move world of cars and doors, cupboards fill

slaughterhouses fill.  

O my mauve soldiers of sunlight

bright kids,

bend to hooks of sunlight.

beautiful rice and love.

there’s no light here. we become reptiles, we crawl towards us

whatever was inside.

cat being,

night. and again and again

we wake up to sounds of rice and love. they punch all tickets. they move along endless rhymes of the city. whoever comes, beautiful, and looks at your eyes, never leaves.



dense light. life-faced smell comes back, to grasses and heaving flesh, return

to Rubicon,

look, fireball, wooden singers are free,

Minerva motorcycles stunned behind minarets, some say, blood goes

armies swarm to beaches of life

marks that become words, signs and vendetta

kick the molasses away. kick them strong and sharp

keep your glasses on, keep reaping and sowing, copper-dreamed boiling

of blood and muck,

kerosene and political.

Tathagata, our children

seeds asleep

Marquis Retina,

you’re nothing other than this. New youth ahoy, seeds of light on wick. Seeds of life on love, death and immortality.

And then, failing to awake dreams and imagination,

whole dives deep. arrange the moments of death and dying. make the corpses strike. art was born.

rabbit runs along strip between here, now and there, then.



these won’t shout

first, I’ll speak of a situation

huge moon rises  

name of house – mother-capitulation.


in the land of futility

protein hormone and oxygen

milked cows and free-fall. in the land of faded glimpses, sailorman eat gaps between lacksymbol lactomama. Horny beasts in moonlit shores,

shooting past chromosome of heads

then, blast and overture

of flags in the in-between land

where few dared to venture

moving through dulcet proofs, notmoving through riversleep,

goldface February footprint.



glassmooth hats in mirror – clearly, another forest, charmed here, I knew

knowing. sheep and shepherds glide down this road. touchbodied mayhem in portico,

that valley. springday stuck to window like head. distance between two moving points.

distance between teeth and nipple.

Silkworm of warm, soft music – fond folds of senses; velvet shoulders;

Thus, become mind.




long sun comes out

between finger

bumper to bumper one turnip, two. these leaves,

forgetting and bereavement.

tantalize wrists, doors won’t open

flotilla departed harbor full scrape patterns: a fading of hiptage

ages. urge. this pull, these roots. point them out. thrash them to mound of flesh and love:

pure and absolute,

kung-fu cup! earthen plates fight for god. your dome is full. your eyes shine.  


 blue fly of comely red lodge.

here we go. hemorrhaged, hedgefunded,

mutually exclusive,

until one day, every day was Tuesday.

mango-cart rolled downcliff

between eyes and fingers – sleek, slutty slopes – evolution of neuron and history.


reptiles fly

the sky is high

first caveman’s mother-complex tattooed on  prickly walls. in this garden of colours,

in case I lose my compass

give me winter of salt

o blood. o periscope.




vomit violent love

throb before doors get shut

- our castle of meatsome fear


- our gloomworn seeds, aglow

I invented boredom

I discovered masturbation

I discovered suicide

I won’t act unless I am the hero.

I am the lovemachine of zero.

sparrows on the green boat

dead boatman bled blood

and I thought the river and the river was.

sparrows flew away, sunbound,

searching for the source of this that makes these stick on.



manuscript of silver, with trident,


much spoken, adroit in limbo, find, leaving nebula, strictures of starlight, neobulb,

bitsy birds on cozy nest. maroon geometry sings all along nightroad erosion,

enter the wheels, patterned to crafts of fruit.

nocturn apple – in three syllables of fingertip, softer than the reeds and chords of what lies hidden

behind cracks and trumpets – dead cigarettes on the floor, edges of sonorous relief, many wisdom of wordwombed stretch. Gnash, hungry, bees of fire and cessation. music in the streets: magician left lay: new radiant alloy: enchantment.




Supernova in lieu of murder

count cherry blossom

cosmetic plankton in big market

wipe pathos off forehead

sweet awaking blue notes tones cut to calculation

counterfoil, production of telephones

boiled difference, tolling,

gates close before singsong moonlove starlove

saffron talkies, comes, cosmetic

between legs,

sunlight and shame, pubic balderdash

emperor breaks

beatboxed rain on gramophone

diorama on steeplechase landfill

lorries loiter secret cumulonimbus,

downhill, chimneys from rainwind door

jammed woodbine for flutter and floss,


a pinch.

look across calm light. new life of dead and hidden in water and soil.  


drenched, copper-nailed,

inside larynx that aim at galaxies inside waterfalls father and son swiped Jupiter,

seven-choired coil, city of trees and gun, one or two dots of glowing dark, specs in subliminal recoil, decoy and subterfuge, lightning-pained scape; chromestage annihilation, mascara and desires. may my shadow stick to your asscheek forever. one lunge - storyteller needed for downtown cascade. blue wine in eyes, roofshaked three bronze-brazen hours, head breaks through head of sky, daylight and hunger of splendid-pain lightning, wolfteeth, creamtittied daughters, of decay, unleash static death of moments. take me to mahogany chorus, blurred captions and borders - seminal, fluid –

first conception of crime,

new compilation

bandits of lotus I hear your eggs screaming from frying pan, my belly on your locomotive, birds progress with trolleys of cold fire, one unit, lilac – that door, darkness, go! next, frenzy

waves tic caterpillar,

nostril-column calamity, tell, waterbreath deathbreath –

again, flip through seesaw mammoth pages  

sloth gulping of bulb-ballerina.  
a book of dew.   


dementia, I want to sleep once again. this sunshine.

round fleshy fruits, seedless, like little balls of poetry

stare, get ready for the next round of blunt thrashing,

morning groans at kneebone, formation of antennae and antecedence

from river of women and other lies, you know,

annexure, running through mangomania turbine hinterlands, she plucked cherries for sepia frames of gumboots and overcoat, paracetamol and stoic ammonia, wearing alkali tunic with brave spots, paraffin jostling with mirages, regular like tyrants clerks and grandfather clocks. little magic-rats scamper out of her moon and nibble at the frame, leaving teethmarks on certain hidden flags and sails that move boatworld to cascade canvas, join killer-dots that scream so sharp that roof of world shatters within her phantom-eyes of dusk and penumbra.   

thus, her nursery of dreams.

today will be a lucky day.



saw you, pendulum-rolled, hey.
pegged with concrete and reflection,
you fell

- ad nauseum –
 a bit,
and froze.



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