That weight you bear your burden a
Endure. Ascend that faithful hill
If even angels come by day or nigh
Offering sweet respite before the
By craft to render Spirit’s subst

Across melon rind billboards
The renown snake oil dermatologist
And his clueless starlet
Sell lizard skin to aging sex symb
Across the vine eaten

If you’re running late I wouldn’t
If the table graced by your mind i
If you’re wearing boots and a flor
I’ll always light your cigarettes
If you bring some books and two fi

Like Paalen’s paintings
the mirror confronts me.
Peering out blue-rung eyes,
digging through diseased gums
for the lost Image.

For what else rose fair humans fro
But Truth to reverence, one anoth
By Love the fragile flesh adorned
That rare, meek bird, that lost en
Abandoned all, they sought her in

Through mud and spittle,
a blind man
saw (as Christ saw)
men and women like trees
over the earth.

Like Van Gogh’s gospel
the water of my sermon is a fire o
For Babylon a lover left me to he
my earmarked re(a)d: return to sen
Her faceless sons who flank my pyr

The field lies fallow.
Go sow it with salt, then;
eyelids heavy with the lead of day
Knowledge. Madness.
Babbling of the broken leaves.

What waste, for what? Us two, eac
To hear the posters peeling from t
Pick at the label on your bottled
No love lost (nothing gained) with
With Life outside, while Day burn

I can see you have a radiant soul.
The afterglow could sustain me in
darkened anonymity of backseats
or loveless apartments by the high
Say nothing

To know and to love only one fragi
To choose among choices a singular
Refuse not its wine nor flinch fro
To die on a hill in the rain as it
Looking long fleeing far seeking i

My kindred rebel poet spirit frien
You spoke rude truth in a world pr
We traded books and anecdotes of s
We wore the line between our minds
We rambled wildly the market place

The suffering of the daily grind
Gives one a thing to sing
Olives, wine to beggars then
And coffee grounds to kings
Those poets rolling cigarettes

Grizzle-jawed doomer
biting down his burning stick
perceiving an infinity of “weltsch
beneath an endless beanie shade.
Eternal Masochist

Those known as prophets far and wi
Named poets in the Hebrew tongue
By songs denounced the Powers’ pr
By sign pronounced a Kingdom Come
They lived among the ragged poor

Oh to sleep away the ages
There are emotions for sale
Drugs for the waking
Paint me in a warehouse
Assign me a companion

Before day, before the blade of da

It is good...
lost on the interstate,
is the firmament shrouded with fog
Are semis swerving
(red-eyed

You become quickly accustomed to c
The cities of the North, such as
At night I gaze out upon the city

How the sun shines for me
and the rain my own tears
earth returned to me.
Symphony of dharmic movements
(night follows day):

That shining world it shone with l
Let Love who’s blind take out my
Let sinners see the snaking priest
Get velvet cushions for their knee
Clothed, we laughed close to the f

To make you laugh -
but then you are always laughing;
bitterly,
a gallows song.
Now to make you smile,

With friends you sit
dangling your feet over the precip
spitting on all the cities that we
Where, at that summit you could te
every thought of your mind aloud

The time-piece
on the court-house,
its roman numerals,
and the judges
(their arbiters):

A dove flew. A cock cried.
To all I told I loved, I lied.
What hell: (my cell sealed from in
May Jesus life rise where I died.

1. My position is fixed, static as
2. Every now and then you hover by
3. I am always glad to see you. Y
4. There is a question, beneath yo

I woke into a world of pain.
Truth blesses by her sting;
bliss by ignorance named.
“What truth?” asked Pilate washed
That truth you bled to bring

Slicked back with motor-oil:
a glimmer of gin across my teeth
also winks
back the Sun-glare.
Perceiving the world as that sickl

Loved ones left to me as ghosts
All hover at my bedside
I killed the one I loved the most
Sleepless at my lonesome post
Hollow eyed, my tears have dried

One day I left home. A home of an

The spitting image of Nebuchadnez
looking away from the throne
(a misstep into sanity)
through a vortex
the self’s death rattle

Skipping across the rooftops
I make my way to your window.
Tink is nodding out on my back,
her tiny arms around my neck,
her head slumped onto my shoulder.

Droning like a funeral dirge the h
my lonely lot in Adam’s penance pa
How life’s heavy millstone saps my
a hairless, grey-skinned drone bes
eyes sewn open, long since neutere