nana buluku

excavating my own skeletons. i wish i could embed this pic somewhere, it's what an underground sunset feels like.



hmmm, maybe i just keep editing this post. frozen core of tomorrow




(*&)(*&)(&()&(&

nana buluku


i eat each woolen thread of your skirt
suck at the corners of a bolivian bowler hat
squeeze your cabyellow purr into a mud flaked salt plain
and drive momma, drive. what about the fleas?
they never brought more than a bit of bubonic
to densely populated areas, the taste of kali
in my pinchers. every skull at my rouge lips-
puckered and sucking the byten flesh

i walk the plank 8 yards above the ground
to a scantily tiled plum and olive bathroom.
the toilet leaks. we only
have to stay one night.
the band plays outside with large brass horns
a rotiserrie of bacteria in musical fourths
and sixteenths, a staccato blessing
with molten rivers for crossing into
the single beds, pushed together
for comfort against the wind coming down
from the andes. the peagent is endless
every mountain with its crowning peaks
like a woman i was or bedded or raped
before my skin began to shred once again.

in the desert, i gather the tribes on the shore
of my last lake. in the mud
we make from canteens and buckets
we couple in teams of twenty
or more,simultaneous orgasm torched
and fallen on the sands. i die but not
before i'm reborn. my hands
caress your breasts. they are mine.



















)(*(&



ugh. damn it. so much interesting
in the world, and i surf i feel
like i'm part of it, for a minute
then i return and try to describe it
and it's ashes and mud on the page.


i want to weave like nat. but i don't.
i make blocks and stick feathers between
the cracks. i plod, not sway.


voodoo is forever outside my ken
it's too close to the lizard brain
i keep on a leash. i like my gods
more civilized, my sacrifices less
steeped in blood. give me a needle
and vial. poppy crop up 22 percent
and the stock market dropping. 16
truths, 32 ways to get
your lover back, 64 free
extra lives but still immortality
means someone else
has to die. let it be earl.

52 cards in a deck and more
in the tarot. love that journey
and the spices it makes. indeterminate
is the way to go. if you've lived it
if you project it on your screen
and have an internet minute
then why bother doing that again?
so many other experiences to try.

edwardian style page. the dracula vs frankenstein
debate. ed wood and his camp of b movies.
mAnt. georgia and her lover come from russia.
the teenage girl with a bomb in her vest
walking the streets of


well, you get the idea. when you gun down
your classmates cuz they dissed you
it only becomes classic if you're the first or the first
in a long time. i need some apple bobbers
and a glass of milk. august must mean
halloween's in the air and i'm craving sugar.







~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
reply


i don't like you
because you're careless
she looks at you
standing in the breezeway
with immaculate clothes
clean white ipod in place, a study
in control.
is she being ironic?


she turns back to her
piles of paper, shovels
through them, unearthing
with a pitchfork. you want
to speak, think you do--
the sound of your voice rings
in your ears. her eyes are focused
elsewhere, as if you didn't
speak at all.






~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~\

if fire


consumable, consumptive
the prayer of our masses.
~
sheer blue panels let the morning
in. you are still up, almost
sleepy now, the last of the music
softly fading, the gurgle of a coffee
maker keeps time, wakes the smooth
river in her eyes. it's not
what you expected, this time of quiet
fullnes, breath of slumber
arising, dawn of sleep.
even the clang and shift
of the garbage truck is muted
and expectant. you thought
something different might arrive-
pine needles or a conflagration.

pour the coffee into steamed
milk, add sugar. sit at
the edge of your bed brush
dreams from her face. she watches
from closed lids, holds her arms to the sky.

set the cup onto the nightstand, an old beer
case from a dead friend. she collects
memories, uses them, so they glow.
dried rose petals litter the floor. and feathers.

bend and kiss her lips, she curls
and crooks, enfolds you, so
the flame.