now dash away all!

i'm sorry  mr transition
2012's scheduled armeggedon
has been cancelled
due to lack of funds.

and i'd have believed
at least half of what spilled
from your hazel eyes if


it wouldn't have taken at least
three lives to do all  that spilled
from your mouth.   maybe

the fox and friendly
mulitple personality
syndrome triples time.

fema, fabricate, decorate.
delusion has become your daily
routine. i don't have the energy

to repaint the walls in the colors
you need. placid sunset over
adironacks. you'll have to

get there yourself.
i've already put
my boots back on.

jupiter eating her own heart

these conditions are so extreme
hydrogen pressed by 40 million atmospheres
hotter than a sun. all my babies
need this heat, i
am the sun.

wish i had
a mirror
for my storms.



*)&(*


outside my window
blank, green, red.
wings swimming.
in the air, lift : a matter
of ratios. entropy is what
i crave, turnaround and fungible.










*(&&7

i asked  tarot about
me and the last taboo.
she tells me judgement is at hand.
redemption or rebirth
 the helium river decides
cutting with king's sword
to the juicy heart, where i can sip
or sup, my choice.
i'm maybe not there yet or
all this shivering's the snake rising.



a little voice whispers from the deepest
part of the river. it's already gone,
dearest, sunk in the absolute zero of fire
but my trusty want will wand the magic
needed for the taking. my knight in methane .

the past is an empress gone to seed.
never harvested, her dreams are roots
and dirt. a red eye, swirling,watches
future pull oxygen for fuel, another blade
this one made of time.

not quite to the part of the coaster
that thrills, i climb stripes
and suspension bridges
things are about  to blend
in perfection's pond.
just add the right amount of delight.

the worlds agree
even janus, that two faced bitch
a word i use with love because lovin
is what i got, so sublime. control
these rivers? how two can you be?
just go with the flows
and don't block the changes.

and here a wild card emerges.
seven river cuts
 seven bands and seven sluts.
which is the one you willed and which
is the one you choose?

the fool will lead you by your noose....

desuetude

i ceased looking out the window
and the world  disappeared

time collapsed on itself
stopped moving.
you called and reminded me of  fragrances
and small t shirts. how you know
everything. except how to really live.

well if you don't keep practicing
it'll be over
before you know it.


when you hung up
i was ten years older
and the cat wanted out.

for christmas this year
i'm writing   because
you said you  wanted 
to remain friends.

i hope your children
 are doing well.
mine are almost
grown and gone.

anticipation of separation. you have
a long way to go yet.  but i'm
 in it, garrulous and green
with envy money christmas spirit.

no, i have not been drinking.
i got the pine mind.

say hey, what's up in the land
of your daily rebirth?
 loved you /gone
 off  learning the
 disremembrance dance.

   fire sifts softly thru  ashes
reburning. a pulse
 in the brainstem
recurrent and agey.

 lateral moves
gain yardage against all logic
and rules of the game
because time  pushes us foward
though mathematically
 we can never arrive
where we're going  .
\\






















&*^























&*^








in the soft florida night
inner thigh warm and reconditioned
he tells his sister in law "a good woman
makes a good man
want to be better. i mean
she gives  him something to
strive for, somehow gives
him purpose". he's struggling
to articulate, there's so much more
the booze and weed  bring up
but they stifle his words. she 
feels the sincerity as his embrace
of the placid air stirs up a zephyr
to fill  his  open arms. his wife
is in the bedroom threatening  divorce
over a  missing angel.
they've all had a wee bit too much
to drink.a stumbling search of the house
reveals a sleeping baby, a desulatory teen,
a student nodding over books.  his wife's
getting upset,  tapping
her foot. hand on hip. where is it
hisses thru the vines.
he turns to his sister  in law explaining
 how  the last  time he was stoned 
he rearranged   the china cabinet and put the angel  in a more appropriate place in
the doll  cabinet.  yes, the doll cabinet.
she smiles, he's a good man
and she makes him better so listen sister
i don't want you ever
smokin weed with him again.
you hear me?

following the scent of where you were

outside my window, palm and patient
sun, the small tweet of caged birds.
 
inside the room, world beat and heart sore.
agape love on the other side  of the door.



presents to wrap .on the floor  a silk skirt
crumpled, quilted scraps , poems, dirt
receipts and more.




i pushed your button. 

now you have to wait
 things you teach me,: mutton
wine and cake.


of course you'd want
control of the situation
but you asked for help
so let it go, detente

and  infatuation














*








man this last time really fucked me up.
i wanted what didn't want me.
made him think of elysius and brie.
hope a dream could delude the flesh
but i guess mother knows best
biology, food and rest.

solstock

in the middle of pinellas county's
long concrete stretch to  the beach
lies magic's place. not many houses
have xmas lights up, the recession's
hit hard in this part of town.

if you drive with the windows down
easy in the florida pre xmas
paradisical night you hear   drums
maybe a woman's vocals as you pass.
if you're in the know stop by.
bring a covered dish, your drum.

after the circle of elements
and the chant,the yule log 
and   wishes burnt
  the communion  begins.
  
magic's a nightengale
drums for the beat
keyboards fill the lushness
juene fille dances with fire
  mesmerises a stone
this is art you can't buy
a poem you can't write
you just have to live it
go out and be in it,
sing on my knees to pray
to the gods of the minute.

strategically mystic

i don't know if it's one moved out
and one moved in that's the problem  or
i just need to get a grip.

every time i have to relearn the lesson
become what i wanted to be when i left
childhood and became a woman. sometime
next week i think.

i  do know that someone's playing loud music
somewhere in this park/ and i wish i could find
a buyer for this home cuz i just want to walk
away from it.  you can have it cuz the rent
keeps goin up. i want to move to st pete or seminole
where the light has  water in it. get a one bedroom
place so the kids can't come back home
home is breaking my back. get rid of the things
that bind me, surely as i rid myself of childhood
the childish marriage and all  memories of the place
i've spent most of my adult life attending.

this is the time to fly. i'll get there.
midlife crisis deux in the  making.
doubt my job will survive.
my hope will be in my new one.

pack your bags babies cuz moms is movin out.

so that was a prophecy.
the story we tell ourselves
is the one that comes after the wave
when we can change it and make it
into what we wanted when we
onced upon a time.


it doesn't have to be just like the moment
recursive , bandoliered.

it's cool to watch the brain disintegrate.
memories rewritten the way you want them to be.









)((

my daughter is a witch.
she wears a white hat with a black band
around it. a man's hat. cocked on the side.
it cost   two dollars
at goodwill. made of paper.

she's angry at me for letting her out
into the world. for not caring
and for blaming her for all the evils
in our family.  she grew strong
when i left the marriage.  she took
my place and  his place and revelled in it.

manipulation of the situation.
but that's ok, to be expected from
a girl whose mother was too broken
to care. she doesn't look broken.
but she is.

if i could write to her again...


dear you,
it's hard for me to plead my case
with you. every step of my life
was fraught with bad decsions 
which ended up harming you,
and that, i never wanted.
just as you love your daughter
that's how i loved you as a baby.
i hope your own love remains as great
as  mine for you, still, today.
i don't let you live here because i owe you
i let you live you here because you need a place
to recover from the lack , the missing, the gone
of your youth. i have that now, please, recover.
embrace your  life,  harness your potential
which is greater than you can know
until you do it. lol a thing i didn't do
but am happy to facilitate for you
because that's what moms want to do
for their daughters.   it's not
about debt and forgiveness
or guilt and blame

the wind blows, time flows
thru a fault of being
that follows its nose.

:)
 

you just have to do it till you're demolished

throw yourself
out there
over and over
hit the vein

pop  standard sunspots
twelve steps
to the bottom.
you're half way
there.

desire drives a red miata
  you keep trying
to smash.
engage again.
paintball decor
rubble floor.

eros discovers fire

in the dark, music drifts
from somewhere but how?
what is music, what is why?
if we have to name
let's call it want, let's call it he.
who is let's, what is she, i know
want but who am i  ?  need perception
a breaking wave, different shall
movement, center and cinnamon.
what is spice what is words how is question?
this to begin:  gravity yen
yang breathes a flute  mountain,
crystal large, multitude mini
   i close the circle, open a black hole
where tabula and sitar swirl  into flame.
 what is sight, what is heat, what
is question? fuel for the yearning.

reminding carol

The doorbell rang, which was a bit unusual. Usually when pushed, the thing would either emit a weak buzz or fail to sound at all. This time, it was the full ding dong, the kind  you hear  on commercials or tv shows, that mimic a sound that hasn't actually been heard  in most houses since the late nineties. Carol    glanced at the tv, It was off. The bell rang again. She jumped like a small startled hamster.     Timidly approaching the door , she saw the lightswitch was off. If she turned it on, whoever was out there would know she was on the other side. She  put her eye up to  the peephole. Moonlight played over the front porch: christmas lights  in a box ,two white wire deers  limned with tiny white  solar powered lights waited to be set up in the yard, next to the evergreen she planted her first year here.  The tree had gained some  growth over the last few years, threatening to dwarf the display.  Branch shadows tickled the deer's noses, dappled and needled corners. Cobwebs shivered like frozen laundry. Why is the moon so bright? No one there. She pulls the chain into the slot,  turns away.

She's only gone a couple of steps when the doorbell sounds again. This time she yelps when she jumps.  She tiptoes the few inches back, fearful to put her eye  to the peephole. She  stands next to it   hands clenched, waiting . Nothing. Her heart's a drum circle but still no  bell. What's the  matter with you? she hisses, tounge against closed  teeth. Does she talk  to herself or the other side of the door?

She lunges at the peephole. The moonlight is almost bright as the sun, corners and shadows sharp as noon, if noon were held in  blue tinted cave. While Carol's scouring with one eye the completely personless porch, the bell rings again. In disbelief, she flings the door open. No one there. She steps out. No one. A peppermint moon hangs in the sky.

Ghosts? She snorts.  There's real things to fear, who needs superstition? The treebranch shadows are quiet sentinels, cutting   the house's siding, slicing the moon's light.  She wishes she had thought to bring a baseball bat. The one right next to the door. And a coat. Some shoes maybe. Freaking cold. She turns to go back inside and the doorbell  rings again. Starled, she squints at the bell's dim ornage glow. The plastic actuator has a large piece missing. How could it even be pushed?  A  large cold gust of wind shakes the evergreen. One of the sentinel shadows touches the doorbell and it chimes.  Ding dong! Carol laughs and turns to the moon and the tree. OK! OK! Barefoot, bareheaded she carries  the deer one by one into the yard, places them in their customary positions, flips the switch. Once again, the snow began to fall.


well not under 300 words, i didn't see that part but

thanks to jennifer and

flipster

she comes into my room
demanding "watch". we tune in
youtube. for the looneys.
she can name the cats
and parrot fuck yous that fly
between mommy and the target
of the moment.  learning to talk
like learning to walk like learning
to fly. she's the queen of birds.

i give her flips  a workout
for my old legs.   put a foot
on her sternum and lift
her the full yard. she's flying
and laughing then falling
onto the bed. again she insists.
again and again she's insistence
hope and thrilled.

what sticks

nude 4 inch
stilletto heels, that 70s
print all dayglow orange
triangles and black lines
blond hair  pouffant
  smokey eyes for the drama

this looks like a  good corner
pink marble under flamingo sky
stone cupid spits water into a fountain
he pulls her hand
twirls   saunter into kiss. 
i like your third eye.

  in the palaza he watches
her glow glazes over glances
bites her neck at the corner
bite to eat, a smoke, performance
art.  what's your favorite
taboo?  she looks over her shoulder

muses a moment
~smirks... love.  sighs a smoke
ring against the wind.

pandora thnx

i guess i shouldn't try to burn the memories
out. we had good times. you didn't lie you only dreamt
you  could be two people or somehow multiplex
into the universe and hold on to the flesh you have.
you would give me different body anyway
to satisfy the thing that craves. and somehow tht's ok
i would take a little tweaking but not a full scale redo
at least this is the skin i'm used to  and i like the comfort
of its synapses, even when i'm full scale microscope ache.
i just don't want the bear claw to come back. i knew hell then.
i didn't know sensation could last that long.
a glimpse into eternity
no wonder the catholics were scared.



there is only this moment. a think i believe and trust.
but this moment contains all the moments. that's what it means.
i've been smoking the green. when you said no time
that's what you were paying for all those years in scientology
time is the edge the wake the bitter pill


  we  are grafitti
the dro in the bowl
burnt and reverb.


find yourself. love yourself.
why do  i have to have
this lesson after every lover? huh?


well it's not easy when your daughter still hurts
in the now from the effects of all of them.
nice job. time to change it to a new one.
yes, the past occurs now
but how you change it is to...
how did you put it?
not be reactive. listen to the other
use the methods of the audit
be the auditor.

odd to me that psychiatry was so abhorred
by  your leader. he absolutely employed some tactics
he just took them further back , caught the thread of the wave
watched on the oscope past future now
bing!













*(&&

things as meant to be...



i guess there is that. the harmony
of the wave without feedback
going  on forever till it winds  down
and disappears. wink! photons have a lifespan.
basic essential physics  . on the quantum level
it all just stops. i can hear her barking
following the scent of where you were]
===========

fast byes on the bayou

the elephant god repeats himself
three  times in the window, winks once.
she's getting over you in a sweet way
one text at a time.
without drama, all the right words
caught in the mainframe, rearranged
and bottled into a scent you
can tell her to byte.

she likes the sex but not the surroudings
however if this keeps up, she's likely
to make the surroundings into a category
of their own. she's never been good
at casual. you know how to duck that.
duck. if she
warns you, duck. don't be a goose
or a gander. you think you can hand her
roe on a cracker and everything's frenz
she'll make you buy more.
and like the expense.


trouble with you is you work too  hard
at a losing game. your choices sound good
coming from the guy at the top of the pyramid
but you're the working stiff they're making
their money off of. you're the sucker
trying to  be honest. believe in the product.
you think they do? it's all volume baby
if ten say no, one says yes and that's all you need
but
it's not. not at your level. you need ten
and they need ten and they need
ten then you can sit back and cruise
   a high altitude dude. the fall is big
when it comes. cuz the bubble seems
to pop no matter who's on top.

so she ain't into changing your game
you wanna work that hard, no blame
you outside? the weather's fine
paradise  , bikini and sunshine
lasts 365 in the state of sublime
grace you can make  in your mind.

smoke lust

flame and inhale
a vaporous trail
seeking ground in body
then exhale. the rise
and fall of her breast
like days when the best
part of waking up
is draw and suck.
through lips painted red
over and over  i'm led
into depths only  i am allowed.
chimerical lover,a shroud
like no other, resistance
heat and succor.