to know this secret measure of the world is not enough

if they come when you call will you trust them?

if they come when you call do you dare?

salival incremental - silence


i ripped from my vegetarian soul this: my conscientious objector status

and took it blazing, held high a promethian ideal scattering
care in its ashes
these asinine twilight days, slipping
ever onward across the barrens -
the desolation brought
by abomination
isn't visceral enough
doesn't get the gut involved
not dropped on our laps with a splat
and a thud, not thrust feet first in the boiling
or the mud, we've built shadows from our silhouettes
and cut from them our introspections, insensate sacraments,
ritualized indoctrinations built from sacrosanct abstractions, confabulations


.75 oz of soul
& a meaning machine
parsing history

the horrified realization
that something has been lost
organisms have a hyperdimension

the nature
of the soul the essence with/
draws from matter
(to be with mater)

america the motherland:

her beautiful conflagragation, her tears
moisten goddess lips from ruby
ridge to WTC, From OKC to Waco,
to Columbine, Columbia streaking
across a wormwood sky

rebuild the temple (third time's the charm)
with lasers and bags of hot air
and no one notices
or cares




"...does not necessarily mean an Introduction to Poetry class should carry a warning that poems may be hazardous to one's health," he said.


i don't
what I'm doing*


ma:she strips
these wounds from passion
these wounds from
these bandaged
strips shame
i peel away
by light of reason
these layers of confusion
gravity & apathy:

the waiting
on the world
pulled us


concretize metaphor to tap potential

pursue ideas solely
until they become trees

so thus rooted, made manifest,
& acrowned w/ laurel
the pursuer goes


some of these words are frozen, waiting for the spring
and with winters end, the shadows peel back

vibrant, there's greens running over the sidewalk gray,
dandelions, poisen oak, black locust, moonflowers

with dawn, our souled bodies react
asleep, the light still stirs us


with each moment
tailspun collapses, redefines
worlds in the ashes


after a storyteller was telling us about applause (that
    people clap
    to drive away the spirits, breaking
the spell a performer casts)

    our haunted house
blew out the tranformer down the street

later, we listened in silence
and candlelight
as he sang


yeah I got balls, got them right out in front
like to juggle, keep them rolling around my fingertips
keep them suspended, move between them, vital worlds spinning

glimmering in the air a jungle of morning dew wandering the trees
at dawn, I'm strolling these back roads with a pea coat
and a pen, some foolscrap and an acrilic sphere

thrust up against what border
what lies
what hidden
what incomplete
what falsify
what defraud...


I'm (pretty) Sure I Meant What I (think i) Said

were we fasioned of dust,
breath. words. A few simple sugars
        refined, embroidered
        context to pass the day
        behind the wheel,
        burning with desires
this world of fire
supportsobliterates artists
& saviors in its wake
in its ash
and in it we burn
that others mnight see
(by the light of our compassion)
        the shadowsthey themselvesnow cast


you give us the war,
we'll give you the photographs

Hearst Castle
hosts ghosts

(even more than Theorosa's Bridge,
Stull Cemetery)