The world is bleeding

with a bag of dread covering each head

each head covering itself with

the spoils of existence that magical

that magical connection

to silver slicing minnows golden streams

silver elixirs the margins of life

are bleeding so hard they say it's coming

from many directions in different manners

pickin up speed and we can see behind it 

where it was what has happened

what has happened they say 

is a grave mess an anxious hole

an anxious whole

whaling its way starboard

wailing its way heartward

a ball of conscious light has turned 

dark grey rays stream from its heart

center is colder and growing

center is cold and growing

This is not the work of

a mercurial artist

No swift linguistics here

just a slow tongue

slapping the sides of the

jelly jar

worm or eels

squirming around

sloshing the vowels

understanding the

incomprehensible

is an easy day in the sun

don't think too much

unfurl the spirit antenna

open the radar umbrella

Words can be

the string of pearls

worn to impress or gather in

the luminescent sensuality

of agreement or admiration

they can fill a singular locket

then lock it away

or they just hang there

a pendant of thought

a vertical precipice of vernacular

waiting to fall from the lips

like ice chips

or cherries

either way

holds the communication

I am very tall

With streamlined breasts

Alabaster and flawless everything

Long stretches of elegant thigh

And eyes

Translucent horizons

With clear reflected glints

Of topaz and olivine

He is taller then me

His chin is strong

Broad in the shoulder

Not thick anywhere

Aquamarine eyes fine and soulful

Right there

At the window of love

And essence

Midnight shocks of tousled locks

And lips

Oh and lips

He leans in to listen

Hand on my knee

Warming me on many levels

Ponders my essence with curiosity

Eyes on my eyes

His ease his sincerity his caring

Are authentic and in the moment

I breathe him in

We drive and love the driving together

We find all that is simple and tasty

We are enthralled by landscapes and sunsets

All the natural elements come alive in our presence

Animals sweetly approach us

Together we have made a good beginning

At righting Eden

We can stay together anywhere

And be home

Anywhere we can be

We are home

With each other

He does not exist of course

Except in the mirror

In the glass

In the book and the song

And the poem.

Slap jab

flag it and fly it high

These are the miseries

furled up anger

unfurled and snarling

the vicious backwardness

of their low country hate

crawling around

beneath their balls

We grow em here

feed em ignorance

the dumb beget the dumber

their world is flat

and filled with jism

and jeremiahs

They have captured every camera

they have been given

their 15 minutes on a platter

with a head

a gun

and a flaming sword

No one has a better market

on terrorism

then acreage filled with 

men who hate everything 

the have nots

who have not flashed their asses at their mothers

but think about doing it

when they slug down some beer

She thought she saw something there, in his eyes. Something so deep and profound that it swept over her like an arid sirocco, a blaze and a blast of intuition and "I get it". He picked up his sweating glass filled with amber and froth and slid the liquid quickly down his throat, adam's apple priming the peristaltic pump. "You say no, you didn't but your eyes give you away". she said plainly, the surge of her truth making her fearless. "What the fuck Sheila" he said turning towards her, his lips ugly and red wet. " You're crazy, you know that" he continued. "If I'd sleep with anybody it wouldnt be her". He took another swig from the glass, clenched so tightly in his hand she thought it would explode. "You're fucking nuts"  he tossed the ugly remark at her like a basketball. "Besides" he went on "Don't think I couldn't get someone else". He ended it there. The conversation expired like a car crash victim. She felt thrown under the bus, 25 years of marriage and this is the chapter just before the demise. Sheila sat next to him, but her soul was leaving her body, moving backwards, away from him, anywhere but next to him. Her body remained on the leatherette stool, sipping at a thin straw. She saw it in his eyes, but what did she see? What did she feel now? Denial, hope, sadness and the same old vibrating anxiety flooded over her now that the new reality was finally here. She sipped at the thin straw, slowly. She tried not to make a sound. Sound would shatter everything even further. He just kept on drinking.

"Sheesh! Semiconductor stocks soar" says Sam slowly and sadly to Sally,  sitting in the sales aisle stacking short squat stacks of salad dressing, squinting strongly as she set seven atop seven. "Shit!" Sally sprayed her singular sound towards Sam, salivating strongly with sarcastic sentiment. "Shit!" Sally sprayed again.

"Seems strange so many stocks we saw as surely slipshod have soundly succeeded" Sam states succinctly, slapping Sally's side soundly. "Stop that" Sally snorted, sidling up to her supervisor Steve" "Slaps seem silly, but such salaciousness should stop." She simultaneously stroked Steve's shoulder as if to strike home the short strength of her statement.

Scared, Sam soon spoke. "Sorry Sally" he stated. "Seems I started something sleazy." "Sincerely sorry,  so sure semiconductor stocks would slip...so strongly sure semiconductors would sink, not swim. So simply stunned by successful stocks I supposed

sincere sentiment should suffice. Side slapping seemed such a sensual statement. So sorry Sally" Sam said. 

"Stupid Sam" Sally slithered her skin and soul straight towards Sam's startled selfhood. 

" I savor your strong sentiments, you are saucy and satisfying. Let's share some significant, well seasoned sex."

"Sam almost shat his pants."  Shalom.

She never stops moving

Up and then down

She drops hard

onto my cushioned spine

Almost strapped into

This hard beast of a seat

I enter the afternoons

Delirium

With thoughts of speckled eggs

Hummingbirds pulsing through

Sunlight energy

Isn’t it enough

I gave myself on the rack to you

Victimized my soul

Buried by the paws of a scented dog

Denied and stuffed and denied

Wide open possibilities

Far from the cradle

the scrub brush and the hairbrush?

There’s no telling how far it will go

Or where it will end up

It is endless and talking over

Lines that have snapped

is impossible

Drenched in nature

My drug of choice

Stars circle inside my head

Drift down towards the pineal

Sparking and releasing something

So full of hormones, molecules,

magic

And oblivion

Possibility and prison

And the clock

tick tocks

Marching music for the malady

Of the grinding soul survival

And I know my limits

exceed the dreams I bear

Like scars into the cemetery

The great graphics of

the American flag

The 5 radiating points

emanate invisibly from the celestial aspects

The Bars

Red and straight

White and horizontal

Match up and flutter

on those tiny tiny remnants

of the free life

I drag my dreams

Across the cemetery soil

Past the granite markers

of those who have soldiered on

Everyone here has been

Shot through by something

Lived through conflict and laughter

I reach the one I want