09292011 untitled (for The Beast)

1.

Opening a heart toward Heaven

All of the people in The city

Who you touch accidentally

to Heaven from

Unravel

The cheerful night song

Bounce (& shake) it around unveiled, darling ( hidden on the inside of the arm, bicep)

The shield remains concealed.

Too, there is no question that

a longer part of the world

Sweet treasures, tall treasures, held high

Overnight work,

black&white houndstooth

above red

Reveille masquerade, from his woman on a horse, Valkyrie

Please help me!

Wet wind, find her

Cheek or earlobe or shin

Or bare-chested, finally.

Wondrous quality of the waters running rushing over the exploded dam

Landscape changing the world

(if he had been given a military assignment from which he could easily have got lost)

No odors from your mouth or armpits

The shiny broken object in the dark puddle in the burnt out house.

Then recedes into the forest deeps...

Seen and fecund potentials grasped

From observations across the precipice

Bottomless, Tar pits

Substance enough to grasp

(from the time when the beast of highest worship had a long nose)

Not long afterward, not long forward, recounted

With new eyes

Ever-new variations, without finding a fixed ideal

No ones gaze bold enough to sustain

Became hermetic and difficult

Migrating into the aftermath, owl wings at thefall of dusk.

(collapse of coherence)

When the tape (cassette or video) was completed, they mourned

Utter contrast, unknowingly condensed,

onto the interior of the window, clear glass, their warm breath (tongue found)

Faithfully recountingthe narrative of; their otherness, their isolation, their desperation, their inevitable descent and death.

"Once there was a little boy and everything turned out alright. The end."

Beyond the horizon of repetition

To continuity

precisely scribbled

Forward held bosom venerated in passing

The fluid a mile deep.

About to come through the other side.

"Do you believe that all men are truly evil, but remain eternally unaware of it?"

& she continued, "...then why do you treat them that way?"

"That old man should've cleaned between his teeth before ever looking her way."

Throw the bird, too

Young to fly, high into the air.

Taken to task...

visions square and hermetic

Foreboding as the song in a dream

Fatal geography, constructing the hours that have been & have been had

"The loneliness of the oracle, the sadness of departure, the enigma of the hour."

Embarking on a nostalgic production?

"Death comes, obviously." (x3)

Heaven rose,

Lace backdrop, it's patterned wallpaper, and illustrated newspaper

all visible from down below

Hole of tooth or hole of eye, "...a wry metaphor."

but what for?

expertise uncredited within this imagined discipline

Then; a bouquet of flowers and some reflection on a shiny stage floor.

Posed as a classical Greek torso,

she spied from the kitchen

Romantic passengers

Dark dark mirror in the harsh glare of a bright Sun

Sunday, no sex in the museum

no bodily fluids and no mirrors, no blankets

Accumulated and organized, as a rupture of horticulture

Within the archive, oblivious to the darkness, She was pleased to see, the maverick approach at dawn

Fiction of coherence, watching through binoculars, including the visiting sister (or sibling)

Since dawn Monday a single strand of Spider web crossed five lanes of high-speed traffic.  Hanging above... Until she walked through it, perpendicular to the fine line (transparent, translucent) it drew through space, above roadblack tar and asphalt. Caught on one of her hairs, then pressed against her forehead by her velocity, all in the moment of one stride

Snapped then drifting, plummeting, through rotation and into destruction

"Following the news reporters and taking their photograph."

Providing the exhilarating revelation that we are free afterall.

"I believe in growing things & things which have grown and died magnificently!"

2.

thrumming

The great machinery of ideals

pursues the daughter of the west

laying, hanging her head on a book

The Smoke

along the back fence

becomes a figure

entering

thrumming keepable

she said, “mountainous space(s)”

he said, “the mountain, the place”

vast overlapping series of scenes, became a totem

and vanished before his last birthday

Silent even, unto the crow was she, (not remembering) even as the crow flew

across the crossroads,
All passions betrayed,

ugly and scabs, soon they will be made to fear

it’s a vision, maybe an illusionary,

tell the story of a man who time travels into the future of the world, and sees the apocalypse. In the process of returning to the present, he is turned into steel by a magnetic field. He is rendered mute, unable verbally to warn people of his time of the impending destruction. His attempts to communicate are ignored and mocked.

the thing it is

the canyon itself is a space

carved by a river, leaving a scar

     do you have a misses, and if you don’t then where’d she go and if you do then where’s she at?

tolling bell, enchanted and devoted realms

journeyed

the manifestation of

landmarks are supposed to be outstanding

asofyet Untitled, just barely, where were you then? who knows?  where the time goes?

thank god for the gentlemen and the fat women, milky secretions

wanted and deep secrets necessary in the alone and the dark

delicately crossed and double crossed reverberating acrosst the entire river.

received delivery, too busy fucking to worry about any kind of rocket ships, or satellites,

for that matter there was nothing else, lusts and being caught unawares, underwater, does the Serpent survive the flood? and why, so despised, did they save his life then, for his continual suffering at the hands of evil boys and the machine, inventing sin together,

dreaming the tractor and the jet engine, warm milk and turquoise, dimmed at the wingtip,

invisible in this dim, dim dawn

“I worry that everyone around me is a spy for something I hate…”

blue is still going on & on

strumming

They found the mystic treasure and a pair of pants changed ownership twice

once the American flag, thus

3.

a.

- arises directly from the spatial ramifications of raw numbers and patterns of logistics.

she hides her camouflage face in the moon

get the lookout and ensign together,

world destroyed, (his here, his heart) by her, on the lines

that empty space survives

undressing for the long black cloud

why try?

"if you say you will, I will love you still"

romantic grapes on the roses' lips

just anywhere at all, pressed against flesh

any reason at all? the secret shared in a place too public

he consults his atlas before leaving

receive and protect,

place the seeds below

to the doubt, Down

There will be only one finale.

"son I need your help with these pests"

all are cheap and dear, but some, the ones, still hold their heads high

chest out

“…don’t worry I won’t bother you now.

The sun is setting

my head is on fire

&

finally, you look so warm, my sisters!”