locust songs twist silver slivers
on the mattress on
the floor in the
fight to the death winding against
wet pink feathers

I turn my imaginary arm back
from cartoon space and We're
****** since arms are extinct.

You are song,
Rain dropping on still pond.
You are sky,
I see Heaven in your eyes.
Your are peace,
A garden above the world.
Your are grace,
The gentle path of the swan.
You are knowing,
The wind that whispers alone.
You are star shine,
The dust that lights the plains.
You are vast ocean,
Mother to the Fathering atmosphere.
You are dancing light  .  .  .

I feel the shrug of the passing winds,
That gather beyond my solemn place,
Where indifferent birds fly to and from,
With only lost dreams, real as her face.

Deep in the shines
Of cobalt blinding suns,
A cold traveler is bound, lost,
With only pointed starry night
As print to slow circumnavigations
Of her ****** heavens, visions scope,
Cardinal points are ever reaching
Towards ancient regions of nether,
Pharohs deltas, negations and delight.
Twin stars searing, burning, burst—
And in the exploding nebulas of iris,
Celestial oceans of aquas rise, cries—
Eternal blue laid of cerulean skies
Outreach and reel, lot vacuums vast
To outer lands, riding stars chariot,
With such spacial years of light,
Only in eyes of her.

Words, utter, deconstruct,
Pure truth is now, tainted.
Always two ways of seeing,
Right is mighty and written,
The blinking stars, warning,
Over heads of manly stone,
Silent testimony unheeded.
Faith, the hearts perdition,
The exquisite supplication,
The tyrants dream so freely
Spun for turning heads tips
As baubles do when moon
Is full or the sun is searing.
Is the world really flat? Are
The angels already among
Us or do birds surely winter
On the moon?

Seashells and castles,
Imagination, holy as the skies,
Sea sprayed our faces.

Burnt leaves of autumn,
Drop, slanted in a brisk chill,
My heart is falling.

Drinking like savannah beasts at rivers edge she
is left to ferment
lethal like wine in an hourglass

she denies death and is weaponized
she defies god and is made a woman
she aims and in doing perfect harm is made

stricken with regret your running target stems
consequences whose stomach is filled by feather
memorials bound by leather turmoil

Shells in my face says Henry the eighth and Rome
will burn gladly on
a nest of Palestinian violins

O. Pool raw island or line vineyards
action stripping the shifts in throat lobes

co operative fraction guillotine manual or
glandular matchstick subtracting certain

matching breeds already beneath accidental
mathematics in estrus clothed by fractions

                                        II

Aural syringe laughing lineage captured
glass cultures Where I feel revered by newborn

lands of guilded dementia children from vapor
quartering off portions of soft cornered rockets

off soft dabs of round cornered minaret orders
I fire the buoyant mind with fractioned black butter

                                       III

The hum of fans
the gunboats dealing broadsides
raw meat and bound feet
moon is withered grape
flys gnaw thru our cellophane
intent to devour our brain
The mythical hiss of salted throats
dissolving like fermented aphids
milk amidst the purr of confused
****** onlookers

The Princess of our burlesque
appears with her sun red triplets
Three clairvoyants asleep in their
eggshell bed each with three eyes
one just within the foreheads

Spotted light on lake,
Plaintive cry of single loon,
Full moon in his voice.