retned

retuning the hinterlands once in a while i have to go into the wilds
just to get in touch with what consensual
reality is all about. chat this up, a post card
from zurich, a colorado ski mask on an austrailian
vacation, the way the canoe almost tipped
across the tops of the trees in the wild river aboriginal.

so many adventures in the land of language.
how it feels real enough to make you smell the paint
on the rocks ten thousand years old, an armadillo
come to live in the hazel eye fractal, the shout
of a young man coming into age, the yell of an old man
coming back to youth. memories get louder
the shorter time grows.

anyway. wish there was this common place
for the girls to meet. spa time talks and painted
nails. comparing sizes and diets and the latest band
aids. also the way love moves in auroras. tried
chat in wide open forum, with debbi from down
under and a passel of aussie girls oggling the local firemen's
uniform
thought man, i forgot to bring
my bottle of tequila to the partay o!
where is poetry, where is banter, where is salon
and mystery here in the web
cam privacies, in the aftermath of winston's smoke
and mirrors, this huxlitopia we're creating please
someone pass the soma. a hundred hands reached
out holdling scripts. a thousand
fingers of normalcy stuck down my throat.







*(8








he plays guitar with his eyes closed, looking
for a zone of unshackled notes. a revolution
of influences, an influenza of remembrance shudders
across the strings.
i release a slow virus into the air. it's shaped
like the opposite of his. then we speak of immutables
and other myths. what tone deaf means.
schizophrenetic colorblindness. i've peeked


at the black mountains and found them
to be a lot like me, trying
to hold it together with gravity
bongs, tarot fumes and a magic oven mitt.
i peek at him and smile, cuz the music's sweet
and the future promises roller coasters enough.