on seeing

on seeing, the ground did not immediately

fall,     away

on seeing, it remained still and green

and grass

sway

the sky remained ribbed and

picture

on seeing, the sky was so

blue with the

calm ache

of your your back

to me

of indifference

on seeing, boy you

stretch hands like

you once did on

my lap

you walk with weapons

on seeing, this does not

matter                    , to walk to

own hands

(your hands)

which lingered where they

shouldn’t

on seeing, everything is still

on seeing,     you walk

away from me,

the crime

scene.

and i sit, with the place where

it happened     , wishing

i could

like you

just simply,     walk away

on seeing,         i am the calm

blue ache,

of a body              , invaded.

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on seeing

for the days he hacked too much away (or; pinocchio is told its okay to play with knives, because god did too)

…one day pinocchio \asks me\?
where he came from
so I gave him a \\knife\\
\\sandpaper\\
\\wood glue\\ and
\\danish oil\\
((I TOLD HIM TO FIGURE IT OUT FOR HIMSELF))

the priests make \too many; mistakes
but perhaps it is simply
((CRUEL))to talk of  – genisis – \as if it was\
easy(?)
as if god did not
CUT THE SKY out of his eyes
the sea OUT OF HIS THROAT
as if light \\WASN’T\\BLOOD!
as if he wasn’t just afraid of the empty…

…so it was that pinocchio begun to
;grow yew trees
;chop and prepare them for the wood glue
;attach them to empty spots
\\for the days\\that pinocchio
had hacked too much away

for the days he hacked too much away (or; pinocchio is told its okay to play with knives, because god did too)

roadsidekillings

laying in the strip of grass
roadside
a body sunken
the corpse of a possum struck from the
sky, now flat and resting
settling in for the long sleep
it’s exciting when they change the ad posters
at the bus stops
in this suburb
makes you feel less
deserted
neighborhoods have a funny way of
doing that
they hold you so close and tight
you begin quickly
to feel isolated
nobody really lives here
they are all pretending
to be wives, to be husbands, to be daughters, to be sons, and dogs, and old couples across the street
when I pretend, i pretend to be dead

roadsidekillings

Angel: (1)

when i was a child/an angel fell into my bedroom/covered in eyes/

i din’t know anything about blood/beauty or/isolation/

but i knew about keeping birds/i took my scissors and/clipped all six of its/

wings

angel made no sound at all/all it did was stare with its body of eyes/

i had a very strong feeling that it/was trying to peel itself open/

such a desire to be flat and thin like paper/

 

Angel: (1)

sun god

its very hard to speak when?

your mouth is full of light

open wide and say

I CANT SEE ANYTHING BECAUSE THE LIGHT COMES FROM ME AND IT HURTS LIKE PULLING OUT SPLINTERS

the dentist laughs and puts that thing in your mouth that sucks (a black hole)

then he mumbles

you’ve some nasty green aurora stuck in your front teeth 

he scraps with the scraping thing

you have some solar flares growing on your gums, but some bonjela should fix that up in no time 

he pauses, his hands still

and looks your wisdom teeth are about ready to pull out

he laughs to himself

its finally happening

all of you struggles and shines but hands come in their thousands/hold your mouth open

nobody cares if they are blind///he reaches inside///angles the man-made for leverage///pulls and there is a pop pop pop///you turn to burning other and they scream///the dentist pulling away with the prize of man///then suddenly they all leave and with them the light from your eyes

the rest of your teeth are afraid; they burrow back into your skull till they pop out the other side, and shine shine shine out the back of your mind.

the darkness is brimming

the darkness is so total

YOU SPIN AND SPIN LIKE A LIGHTHOUSE, TO BREAK IT WIDE OPEN

(AKA, a star)

sun god

Line/Lone

the moment is unclear to all but the sand
upon which the line was drawn
the silver outline in/the dark
1am in the morning
the fans wurrr intensity towards it
beer feels like nothing at all but bitter
the dark heaves itself a little
places a plastic bag over your head and says
breathe

you breathe deep/and close your eyes
plastic hugs your face
tender
that’s when the dark disappears/and you see the wurrr wurrr/sand is disturbed flying
FROM UNDER YOUR SHIFTING LEGS
breathe
CLOSER
civilization holds your face
TENDER
breathe
the sand is numb/poison was always this easy
breathe
slowly choke yourself to death
THE DARK SLIDES INSIDE YOUR CHEST AND SAYS!
FLY
LIKE SON OF INVENTORS
LIKE SAND
LIKE DUST
LIKE LOST MOMENTS
the lines the lines the lines the lines the lines the lines the lines the lines the lines the lines the lines and the lone

Line/Lone

meat with beef: food/thought

meat sat with beef on the hill side

and spoke about dogs

he said in tones of grass and sky

they say that where we go to the place inside of what they call a ‘dog’ i see them in my dreams running like a tide of teeth and stomachs to sort through the little bits of ourselves

beef twisted his head and thought about this

beef thought a thought that he decided not to tell meat

meat continued

leaves us wondering what they do in with every little piece of the grey matter in the part of us that thinks about things like sky and grass and fences 

(there is also the tone and smell of a fence)

leaves us thinking thoughts like, is every thoughts that we have a little blade like snip snip of grass that starts to in tiny little moments strung together get taller and stretch till it dies and we forgets; are the dog stomachs really like our mouths how we munch at the little blades up high of grass (that touch the sky) ‘cept their stomachs they eats thoughts or the bits that think?

(there is the hotter tone shill and corrosive, a smell that burns red, of a fence)

beef thinks again, munching on green and staring at the sky

beef thinks about dogs (cause beef’s seen dogs) and thinks about how

the dog might even think about anything

meat speaks again

sometimes we tries to think about where all of the bits came from, but we don’t think we know…

meat lies back the ground disappearing to a sky pealing open like a can

there is a first thought that ever was and it was like this grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

beef stops chewing grass, doesn’t even think about what to say, just says

whats that?

meat answers

the mincing machine

(the tone and smell of the fence comes in waves of heat and static like wuuur wuuur wuuur)

meat with beef: food/thought