More Hobbit Talk

things get in the way, things like
someone says, they're not human,
they're chinese.

Kramer Buddha
is the arms on an airplane
this traditional bullshit
pomo poem
they review sometimes

in rows wasabi grows
among the river
dark pirate hair
its lover
the pirate in the rising sun

the sun
with a knife in its teeth
goes down to the wooden

and ambulant garden body
that large wooden trojan man
with a skylight full of Cryptomeria

merry crypticism
that bullshit pomo poem
not Samurai at all
not

AD
BC
or anything but
Marley Blue of Bone Street Hangurel
their side pipes went glass through wrists
of vehement ages
their statuary fixation
went broken fingernails through walls
of gendered stone
a thousand motherfathers wide
when the condor

in its Samurai outhouse
fell like a stone sun-pirate
into the teeth of the sea

when meddling platitudes of seaweed
who trusted no one
went up into the special gangster bar

when the special gangsters
showed us their monkey loam counters
whose curved beard sausage radios
would poot such supple opals
grieving like candy toads inside the infinite stone
of terrycloth terrier tarrying
territorially among the terror-stricken
Tarahumara which

in a bullshit pomo poetry way
sounds like

Terahumana

or deformed humanity
my only polity

Kramer Buddha
Cryptomerica, United States
of

immaculate grasshopper

get stoned in Oklahoma.