Native Speakers Unite!

the enormous
manitou-sized
zit on your
middle-back
is full of
tiny cellphone indians
whose ringtones go
woo woo woo
and
hey nah nah
or just sound
like an enormous
taiko-tom-tom
ponging out
the great spirit wrhythome
in the rhyzome
of your between-scapula

it is not ready to pop
its head of white noise
like beer-foam
hiding in a hogone

like a bone-white
bygone antenna
telescoping
as a shrimp-tail
fingernail
envisioned
by Brancusi

it will pop
and be a lily
brocaded with blood
a leer jet
modeled in blubber
and set to sag
on a pedestal
of brie

that thing
will be free
a milky cougar paw
of yuck paint
and I will smear it on my
cheeks

and I will auto
mate
the poetic
with my how-how hand
to mouth O

thusly

WOO WOO WOO
wave to eyes
in eyes that sigh

there is no part of you
i do not adore
you are a shaggy totempole
carved
by a blind dribbling Whitman android
whose sits atop the deathstar
in a glitter thong
dreaming of wierd wired and wordless
porn
inside of a totally
badass

architectural pomegranate

O manitou cellphone zit
COME ALIVE
and spit horny toads into my eye

be a grasshopper-crawdad
doing squaredance
in a sorcerer's circle

be a Lamborghini beetle machine eye compass
an oracular soulphonism

eructing
possible
tronbulite

for torrid
zero driving
hay makers

let a single feather
come out of the hole
and let that feather be a soul

dressing
in green chrome
macaroni rumba

and crying

ADVENTURE!