Category Archives: Poems

to hack off our arms with his rusted machete and throw them into the latrine
or slip a scorpion under our mosquito net while we are sound asleep
or unscrew the cap to the coffee and in an instant mix it with the bark of dumbcane just in time for morning breakfast

or point out two pairs of macaws soaring bright and high in the overcast jungle sky

The rain was a deafening radio static on our newly erected red plastic cave
(at least the lunch lingering shivering had subsided after being serried under).
We would only see that crimson cover until we reached Las Marias.

The torrent poured so hard and for so long and I shook and shook and lost both of my visions.

forty, two, one, hear the
reverberations of the bass-heavy denominator

a black lined mouse shook it all over screen
all over the back room
eating an apple drawn from static
screaming halloween horses and jack-o-lantern riders

there will be no cigarette smoke, but you can smell a wisp there

Occasionally the triage cases obtain a spot of sanguine, of crimson in the eyes.
When is it good? Per chance is it unhealthy… or maybe it is…
Something that surfaces when the lessons from primitive parents arise and the scoliosis is set straight in the spine.

Bravo, Bravo… Bravo.

I did not know what to think, the termites had bored tubes into my will
And the chemist that had conceited the interaction had more
But Santa had left me a Memorial Day gift leaning against the tree so I ran.

I really didn’t want to hurt you Stacy, but I did not want the nest to destroy me as well.

I bludgeoned a young black cat on the 5th of May with some plumbing that had been sleeping supine by the yellow recycling bin.
He had jumped across the choked chainlinked fence onto the recently seed producing grass.
How could he trespass against me, for this is mine all mine?

The voicemail alert chimed on my cellphone so I gave it a listen.

Crystaline godesses transcended the sunlight
And with their gold tipped hands fed me muscadine grapes.

Grapes that exploded with the tastes of codiene and honey.
Grapes that caressed the inner reaches of my swollen tongue.
Grapes that caused the inner roots of all 27 teeth to moan in orgasmic delights.
Grapes that tempted my feet with feathers and wilted the bars of my inner prison.

I never learned such a language but I was tickled in the realm where I could speak it!

Three kings oriented themselves in the obscurity of the frigid evening tree shadows
Waiting for a pigeon to mark himself as a carrier of credit cards, telephones, and myrrh
Grinning they hustled, unlit, across the coronally tagged bridge and lagged close until the spark was shot.

If only they had no arms I would have not granted gifts of three.

Smoke billowed from a wall of purple Hebrew scripture
And the television zoomed onto Menendez de Ribault’s grave.
On the wall hung an oil painting of a unleaved penis attached to a shirtless man
That was choked by a giant rabbit holding a rubber chicken.

The dancing went on and on until everyone’s minds were nowhere to be found and the robotic parakeet stopped chirping “poo tee tweet.”