Bedsore
Social stigmata bleeding
breeding skyward, outward
flailing motionless
bringing foam in buckets
old witch-like figures
all soot and wicker mist
cackling in stringent tones
long stings of 'em
lined up and passing through
a door in a vacant home
filling more than full
like clowns in tiny cab
bloated, wispy
lactating in unison
for all the world to see.

Mere Tatters
Horse hair brush stings lightly
on Glen's bare buttocks,
memories he'd prefer to forget.
He titters and drools
screaming obscenities,
picking at his pant folds,
grimy, he stinks
the whole bloody scene stinks
that brush stinks
I'm leaving!

Never
Blue glass filled to bursting
with rust-colored water
spewing with mud and such out a
Ronald Reagan shower head.
Like vomit from the wrinkled plastic mouth.
He wretches on me nightly
concentrating on my back
he's just a molded plastic head
but I'll kick him where the sun don't shine
come morning, if it ever comes.

No Good
Strings of sordid laughter
helicopter down
from the tower on the lonely hill
where hellish sounds of demon wails
had been heard the night before.

Slim Chance
Fingers cut
with paper slices
lineman blinks and
rolls the dice as
the mustard coat
sucks wind through buttons
ham and eggs pretend.
Butter cups
of crispy mutton
manifold and
country struttin'
Chachi Mitchell
sits worn and haggard
somewhere near the end.

2 for 1
2-headed baby
has a way with pairs of hats
that far surpasses
the nasty cats
that howl near night
till dawn comes lumbering,
crashing into parties
plenty high on scotch
left for dead at dinner
knocked alive by 3.
Force the nun to stutter
and cough up blood for fun
last night we're together
I'll treat you like the 2 you are.

Booze Chimes
A weight that flimsy boys can crack
a silly cinderella
the new boats shine in
sun dried shacks
where moose heads hold umbrellas.

B's
Budget bayonets
build buildings
by barnacle-barbed
banyon boats
benign bystanders
behind bare bones
begin by biting
buttons bouncing
begging batter-buttered
buttresses banging
bucolic below
bippy-bibbed bimbos
bitching bottle-bated
bicker battles
betrayed by
buckskin bandits
belittled, bugged but beautiful.

New Spark
Pink wigs fly high
over spiky mint surprise
alive and so intriguing
in her knee-highs
the smile, the stare
to snare the beast
to soothe the mottled soul
and smooth the stubborn creases
that hamper sweet surprises.

Distractions
Floaters fly past
and blot out the Summer sun
cascading down in rhythm.
The hose lies dying
in green grass dribbling
and bubbling in lazy mud ravines.
The cobra caught something
and we could be next.

Amiss
Chugging on some joy juice
the geek's wife gives a smirk
the line forms 'round the block now
when the miners get off work.

The clock up on the church's top
chimes like hell on fire
the monkeys ring it all day long
'till eardrums statewide tire.

The geek he shaves his name in hair
that grows upon his back
he does it with a mirror view
that's hindered by some cracks.

The fortress that surrounds the town
is older than the bark
that clings right 'round the ancient tree
used for Noah's arc.

Portions
Rose water spews from the
open wound she wears proudly,
as the shadow of her fleeing lover
finally disappears from the stained and peeling wall.

Newly Annointed
Off in all directions
goes the spirit of abandon,
every moment as the last
and every occurrence like the first.

Sometimes
Owl Creek looms distant, far below
as I dangle so precarious
like a frosted Christmas ball.

Lucky
The lemonade jumped twice
as Uncle Earnest (the kindliest one of the bunch)
looked on in rapt delight
realizing his grandson's powers
were as real as morning sun
and hoping they would last long enough
to pay off his mortgage and teeth.

Bovinial
One day I found myself
eating a hamburger,
wearing a leather jacket and leather shoes,
and drinking milk
I was becoming more cow than man.
Haven't eaten red meat or drank milk since.

Such a Night
The road overflowed into the toppling night
into the carpet, thickest of shag,
new, soaked in sugar water and heavily stained,
a living room embellished,
to send the neighbors shivers
twice in one night
who'd have guessed such a night
to bring such horror
who'd have guessed tonight could be such a night.
All screams and charades
the family fled into the family room with
sky ripping through,
the hole that the couple mistook for a tunnel,
the light at the end,
but they didn't make it.
Lying in the deadened room,
technicolor with rolled back eyes,
who'd have guessed such a night
to bring us such horror.
It cooled down quickly.
The cold sun rose and swept
up the darkness,
afraid not of sleep and evermore.
We have no instincts left.
Who'd have guessed.
Such a night.

Fanciful Deceit
Sailing, flailing
even dog wind bailing
into the setting sun
most visceral
I hide in cloistered vistas
too close to nowhere
somewhere inside a fortress of false beliefs
mind sour from too many thoughts
too many bumpy rides
down useless trails of faulty logic
stuck headfirst
in a muddy cove
just off Biscayne Bay

Crooked
Something's crooked
I can't figure what
the table?
the couch?
the floor?
The walls!
The walls are crooked.
What am I to do?

Bong 'o' Fury
Kenneth, all enticed, entwined
searches aimlessly, endlessly
bare bulbs strobe down a dark brown corridor
his knees buckle on a quest so consequential
he smirks, so influential
as his eye spies a florid doorway passing
all crouching, encumbered
he moves, his mind asunder
into halls of splendor
paved with diamond shine
so near, the bong of fury.
It sits on peds and pots of pollen
breaking records with its glamour
he stammers mumbled songs and reaches
as leaches dig for blood
drool hangs and eyes tear, blinking furiously
the grail so close and smelling sweetly
there it sits, the bong of fury.
Cylindrical and yawning
ripe to kiss with breath euphorically silent
it calls for Kenneth, yearning.
His head aglow with wonder
as the Zippo does its work
the cherry fires friendly
spindly fingers gripping tightly
he sucks, the bong of fury.
Head spinning
filled with smoke and splendor
thoughts splinter
sending shards of waking barbs
that stick in spongy walls.
So small and primordial
Kenneth gurgles eloquent and collapses
overwhelmed with enchantment
and enhancement of his senses
rubbed raw
exposed and soaking dry
in the bombardment that is living.
So sits the bong of fury.

Doomed
We're falling fancy
without a 'chute
and one day we'll all hit
and sink to six feet under.

Bum Heaven
Steam clouds fill the alley
billows breaking waves on brick enclosures
hot dirt-wind blows, blinding
bodies bathed and prone in steam
fighting icy breezes breathing down
Heaven, bum heaven
don't breathe the hot wind heaven
Bum heaven.

He's Not
If Larry sings the bullet song
and eats the mustard seedlings
he laughs and coughs up biley breaths
with a fucked up sewer smile.

Luminous
Gloria wore a fetching frock
that seared feint hearts away
with neckline plunging
her breaths made laymen scarce
and skirt men fully flustered
for the longing hurts a bloated heart
near bursting from the turmoil.

Cold Hearts Awaken
Baking in a bucket seat
trench coat draped like Lancelot Link
the motor quit its belching.

Magnifying glass
burns ants in dashboard marches
bored out of mind and money
branded vinyl apocalypse.

Delco blasts quite dimly
rattles panel shrouds
mantras meld the moods aloft
2 pm and laxatives kicking in.

Cold brown door sits closed
and steaming
never budging
clouds descending
moon calls sunny home again
brimming with ambition
burned into submission
coughed and camel-humped
brain sand sifts within.

Oh Bobby...
2 walked in, all strutty and stuff
loose change jinglin'
bright blue bruises on thighs and cheeks.
There's something going on I don't understand
and my memory is bathed in dusty drapes.
I woke up here about an hour ago
nose all bloody.

Peekers
Floating busty booze hound masses
fan fat cat mustard gasses
mood-sucking laughers
joking loosely in sickly sin.
Peak beneath the tent flap
fat lady squinting, moving bowels on dwarfy loins
squirming, sweating lightly
the turtle boy stares
sickened to the verge of ecstasy.

Late and Sweaty
We left The Shoebox about half past 1:00,
me and Charlie Pappas, high on big tits and brandy
laughin' big fat belly laughs and spittin' out stories
from the underbelly of the shit pool.
Then, along comes Charlie's wife Mary,
pissed and huffy, she launches into her same old rant
about the tit shows and the brandy and the stink of belligerent men
stumbling home at all hours.
So Charley just turns to me and says:
"You know Tick, I sure do like cheese,
but when it goes bad, oooooohhhheee does it stink!"

Aces
Dream girls float down from the gilded rafters
of the Hoffbråu Haüs
I and my saddle-sore pal Dingle sit placidly,
watching the bubbles rise from the giant
champagne glass in the center of the royal room.
Class comes in all shapes and sizes
but if the john don't stink
the joint's aces in my book.

Falling
Just another bag of seeds
to drop on eggs from bended knees
enthrall the light on yonder pane
to touch forbidden fruit's remains.
The night crept slowly towards the day
chisels waking till it frays
and breaks, a snap so seldom heard
as sleep descends without a word.

Down and Out
His legs are bound in cauliflower rags
bent light bounces high off seersucking trousers
grease-soaked and shiny, cut short at one knee.
A mud-red vest drapes dirty on his shoulders,
denim shirt stained nearly black with all the
tire dust and soot one catches when dwelling
near the urban ground.
Begging through a vicious scowl, he hasn't laughed in years.

The Final Straw
Slipshod cabin
Fire cracklin'
Skipping orange off wood-worn walls
And in this slipshod cabin a wicked woman dwells
Heaping evil on the town below
That damn Dodge has been dying for forever
and tonight it stopped for good.

Bent
Here comes the crazy farmer
set for sticky doings with wriggling eels in tow
sounds of knives getting sharper
sharper than ill deeds deserve.
Woodsman and hunter
he's come to set things straight
with the new boys, invaders,
intruders in his God-fearing town.
But tonight he is God and they will do the fearing
for revenge takes the bentest forms
in dark corners rarely seen.

Not Really
Cracked Hamlet
egg wall-mounted
scooping up his disposition
from an earthen urn of nevermore.

Damn!
The girder fell swiftly onto Earl's exposed head
Hardhat off for lunch, bologna everywhere.
Burl sits dumbfounded, ears still cocked
to catch the inside scoop on the fifth race at Sinopee.
Someone's always yanking that brass ring away
at the last possible moment!

You Don't See That Every Day
Honey Dijon rivers flow over the old Indian woman's face
as she whispers tall tales of flying fish and howling wolves.
Riverboat queens peer through buffalo snouts
urging her on with chants of meek encouragement.
I'd only been there a few days, but I know odd when I see it.

Barn Talk
He started in whispering something about lost luggage
and taxidermy bills long past due
And boy-howdy did he stink!
So I said: "Speak up son! This ain't no house-o-God,
this is a damn barn, so belly-up and speak with
the force of a man with somethin' on his mind."
This flustered him to no end and he sauntered
on back to the other side of the barn and got all fetal
suckin' thumbs and arm meat and just about anything
he could reach.
Meanwhile just outside the flaking metal door
great aunt Annie devoured the fresh buffalo carcass
like nothing was amiss.

It's All Relative
Goonie had a spur in his foot-thing
so he called his fat dad-guy to yank it free
But old Lucy (the sister-one) burned his head-part
with an ember-tipped fire stick
and the spur became the least of his worries.

Knowing is Believing
We met a shaman named Beptopoop.
After we told him the meaning of "poop" in English
he said: "All the better!"

Broken
A sun-dappled room
fetid and contemptible
the noise of conflict now settled like a stagnant pond
an ugly third wheel has rolled into the room
its name is silence but far from calm
it is agitated and heavy as a boulder on my chest
an impenetrable wall of dancing sunlit dust has descended between us
forever widening the gulf.

Monkey Shines
You put pickles in the ashtray
I place poundcake in my pants
On a wrecked asbestos highway
the workers start to dance
And somewhere off in Singapore
they say she's your's to lose
Falling swiftly towards the door
it's time to softly snooze.

Doodle
Keep it off
and keep it often
hollow me out
I'll be your coffin
Roll one up
and smoke my reason
follow me down
you can pick the season.

Itchy
Cooled down from the irradiated peach,
Fundle puts on soiled socks and makes
his way to the 5 and Dime.
He's off to buy another alligator-shaped back scratcher
'cuz he wore another one out.
Sleepin' on that ant bed has really made life tough.

Calling Mr. Lorre
A gaggle of severed hands grab my ankles
and jerk me from my canopied bed.
They drag me down the dark brown hall,
past the statue of Prometheus,
the labrador umbrella stand
and the sign that says "one to grow on"
Formidable plans have been layed
by this hairy hand gang
and I am prepared for the worst.

Segment of a Dream
A company spokesman announces to a group of children:
"I've got good news kids, two of our Lincoln Log
characters are now cinnamon!"
I put on a green and brown plaid shirt to represent my new flavor.
I am a Lincoln Log character, and I am now cinnamon.

No Where to Run
Terrified by forever
he ran in place, hovering before takeoff
like a cartoon escaper.
The striped chair in the corner
sat laughing, creaking, coughing lint,
and crying in off-white oblivion, defunct.

Backyard
Blank sky blankets the yards of green and brown
while the Funktons cook raw cow till burnt,
bun-bound and bleeding catsup.
Winter cookout irony falls deaf on Southern ears
where the sun shines relentlessly and dulls all
the senses to all but mild cold.
Father swats a mammoth fly and curses nature's filthy chain
with colorful words that mom tries to avoid.
Just above the emptiest chair,
I float forlorn and fantasize
that I am still alive.

Heat'll Do It to You
Poorly suited to the hot humidity
Harry loses sanity
strips off all his clothes
and urinates on his co-workers.
They were shocked, of course,
but somewhat relieved.
They knew something was brewing
in that over-heated head and they feared it may be worse.
If the yellow shower had been cool
they wouldn't have minded at all.

Monkey Man
And the butcher drinks blood from a blue porcelain cup
as a pink ballerina does small pirouettes
on the brow of a pinhead named Alfred J. Muggs
too slow to realize he's a monkey inside
and the suit that he's wearing is a clown's uniform
not chosen by him but his owner
to be worn while he smokes
big cigars in his cage
an plays songs on car horns
like trained seals at Sea World.

You Never Know
A sunken treasure was found
in Captain Larry's swimming pool
and the fin of the shark who was guarding the spoils
had a ripple effect on his chest hairs
as it ate through the captain's stomach and such.
A scene such as this is shocking and should
be avoided for the sake of all involved.