Monthly Archives: April 2014

mmm 26 brainz

The zombies are

Only us

In moaning

In mourning

And their shamble

Toward whatever

Want the basest

How a quick

Foot and bat

Will come in

Sound thwack and

Handy – almost

Like how

All the signs

Have warmed

Our hearts

Have warned

Us, I mean

Look at how

Well they’ve

Captured

Cursive – curses

I mean, damn

them – err, us.

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twenty/fith on thirtee

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Gods are handing in

Their stab wounds

 

My what a beautiful

Conquistador you make

Your head

 

Among the wheel pile and pull

A farm hands the background

Its menace

 

We dance with whatever

Shadow downs enough east

 

That the sun can calm and clamp shut / On

it retreats back to its hitching post

                               

When the mail comes it is as blue

As your inked finger prints

The idea of prison in them lines

 

& our hides gone

crisp as the potatoes

That brought us here

 

To plant a native seed

All you need is a hole

And the dirt

 

What’s left of this time

Is tile

And tied red round the mouth 

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24th on 30

This parchment strips the paint

Free form slumber you

Are rent free here in one case

Cap thrown and gradual

A strap gold and sutured

To the combing sun, each

Lower register contains

A series of coins minted

Minutes apart – the year

Blazes on in many forms

Go look at what the paper

Lays before us – one thing

Pealing, while all the others

Slight whatever’s blue.

Them gauzy in their gather.   

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23 on 30 – get the going right

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Cause of wave

Reinterpret each impulse

As the grain in street becomes

A loosening of particles

One drain over

All the water it can gather

I am asking the crosswalk for its

Best decision – toothpick

Holding the world down

In place. If we were to list

All of the forms a shade

Can take, would we count

The spaces between

Each curtain of water

Or our steps and the interval

Measuring distant crests

A white hat pulling the grate

Over the moon above us

And to find the sea creeping

Everywhere we stand

So stable on this liquid

We call land 

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landface day 22 on the 29

What do you say

To the face of the land

When it’s trying to kill you

With it’s beautiful browns

And seventies greens

 

Some say

Come here

Little spike

Offering

Their hand

In support

 

The way you can find

Something to drink

A why of wood in your

Shaky palms, the trees

Skating the washes

The mesquite blown

Hairy in the wind

 

One way

To trace

Sleep into

A building

Is by laying

Still – your

Body even

An outline

 

The saguaro’s

Skin means

Business and it is

Hollow—a knock

Full of birds

 

This airstream hunched

At the base of the catalinas

Is only the notion of something

Free contained in a vast

And contemptuous plane

And it is all so true

                (also)

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day to day to 21

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The laughing place of a belly is fire

You touch the stove’s metal face, like it could cry.

Each numb thing sets the dirt to spikes and the sky asks its questions quietly.

Why are we not here now again, setting our number down and pulling the track

Lighting down from its station above us?

I take the bet on the last horse, that its face will remain imprinted

On the towel after it has risen, after the shot

And the curtain calling for this life.

One long way to burn and the emblem that makes it

Alright is a hook and a backslap – the buried parts of our chests

Carrying what resembles a fin or a fist in them.

An anthem yet to write and the locked screen signals

Safe distances, the gun again a speaker to star with running. 

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20th late, later

To lift the dullard in each particulate
one sets the rain on stutter, sets the shutter speed
for the ground to watch with its eyelike cloud pacing

And the needless nose pliant in the sky

If you were to smelt the fame from the land
and cordon off the farm below its lesson
to halve the animals, to halve the acre – grass

Tended to with no leisure, only suits of rain

If we were to approach this dark wing
foreign in our elements, the lip pursed
below us in parental waiting fashion

Hear one line as it crosses out the pass

We are to make time in our image
and mark it with the color swatch
that matches your best idea of furnishings

From the era you were born in, land

One edges the continent before
and after like a mountain being
erased and here we thank the clout

For it is water moved the earth to this 

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