Jungle Fevers

pong grawls eif douanier
a little shelf pitched window
the nightwatchman rolls along
his soft wet feet like fox hair brushes
inundating the fog to about
four billion be sea
because she was tossing them out the door!
each child that came into the little attic
down at street level where the classes began
if Madrid for Goya was an empty frame
hung on a corner in the alley of fireflies
the douanier had fallen asleep these ears
hung in a thriftshop eeries theramin for violin
picasso still toasting our sweet football rascal
but turning the key at each station in the fog
perhaps it is the unities of bodies and themes
thems pong grawls windows
the american rag time band
black car
streetlight
pasture
tel
from all the faded purples
to the upright crumbling oranges
a nightwatch
a nightwatch
a transparent grey castle

the nous objekt's krypteia within the critical forests

Herder Herder
were only the graveyards
all herms
of gesticulating robots
the sun you
no smile my
stolen cattle rattle rooster
this Broch is no
Hermann this
instrument no bone
when eyecup the cubs
your buttocks painted
drained
upon the convex sides
odd alien bent chattels
eyes on your buttocks
your body rattle
blackfaced they hide
by the road
rattus rattus epebia
within an oaken
torso
rudder

to Posthumius Terentianus

in their silence a thieves' ergot hung 

between them and marked by the lonche 

of longinus stood in for the contraction

of a knot into diagonals and sword or spear 

sublimed it appeared wound up upon a pun 

transposing a riddle for a name whose 

sacrifice would suffice to render the buggered 

angel as a touch to invisible spaces aye a cry 

best laid in focus where inversions put the 

chorus surrogate in singular and complex 

order lo lie lay lea loo la leh but a hyphen 

or a hylephan cant breeds and a sphinx 

cant listens

Alfred Kreymborg's Advice from a Caterpillar upon Mushrooms

the sliver is perfectly transparent,
and our knowledge of it trans-apparent,
its existence being made known
by a cluster of inconsistent experiences
loosely titled pain which spread out
over the conundrum in a line
whose surety means conjecture,
and as its form is radical, or hyperinflected,
its aggregation spread wide so as to
propel its name up into the higher classes
of an endeavor, a granulation spreading
Ozymandian rubbings of rubbings, so too
is this lowly mechanical sibling also
radically constructed, its name leveraging
its path slowly, not as parasite or symbiote,
but as blind and accidental invader, purely
mechanistic and unmanufactured, and yet
wholly manufractured, for its consistencies
are cultural, and its birth, the dropping of a vessel
on concrete stairs where its body, its radical
poly-undulating-fulcrum-that-I-am-when-I-
enter-your-skin-so-that-when-you-walk-I-
tunnel-ever-deeper for no reason other than
the shape of my self or name; see then
the poet, an immaculate mechanical sliver
standing in for being, and being distending
to become that thing, but being not that
thing at all, but always that thing,
a transparent invader.

Riddle Hymn and Riddle Herm, For the Middle Way is Closing...

Les pantalons sont à venir 

pour les plantes tandis 

que les perles sont drapage 

de la noirceur alors 

que le témoin des marguerites 

se déplace tout vers 

un groupe de statues 

à l'ombre d'une déesse 

de fusion si brillante afin 

feuillus si complètement 

couler leurs pieds invisibles 

pour le verre transparent 

le torse de chevalier qui fumée 

avec de l'or pourrait 

dire son propre nom comme 

un paria de la valeur du harnais 

qui les clients adorent 

plus que les assiettes 

qu'ils détiennent 

et qui les détiennent 

respectivement. Il ya des bougies 

rouges diriger toute conscience 

de la célébration.

BABYLON!

BABYLON!

in Qumran we touch our cactus tusk selves in abandom

make way for the goddes(s) of hey

for the(y) come

from a snake-like PAN-KING..

the adobe' muskrat caterpillar is swiftly chewing

as it peers over the tickertape of usury

which is the grapevine

of our finest ages.

A drunkenness of things

is easily translated into every language

and yet still so

poorly understood.

The troll sings to the okra,

and the okra wages dodge

upon the yelling

care all night

knot's victim

chapter one

RANSOM

pun

as Kthontic

sacrifarce

bleak but positive

even smelling gasoline on the air

romances poison

its nile

of black rubber mummies

in memory's mommy sleep-pons

the red slide-rule

is wrapped in velvet

the pillars are shorn before the temple of the eye

and the great black cricket of petroleum

is NERO the blue

rendered in ambiguous

obsidian fiddles.

NO SIGNs is ESSO

This is my next painting.

In all innocence I captured its phrase

from the great river, along with all the old heads of gods,

their phone-numbers,

their silent paveries,

and trilent savories.

tell a faun to whisper.

to a faun to know.

tell a faun to prosper.

tell a faun to grow.

Imagine one massive red column,

Diogenes wearing the Marsyasian skin

of Oedipus, and Socrates' head

as a monstrous ocarina

of gold

filled with snakes

which vomit coins of frozen blood.

or flat saucer uniting blanknesses.

There is a little beauty,

and much beauty, Rodino,

your Pea-pong turns away in vinyl boredoms:

place 

place

place place

place

CYNAR

CYNAR

PSYNARR

PSYNARR

thigh boots

thigh

the Banderole of the David:

IOOOOOOOOOI

There is a chicken dancing atop the bulbous topiary,

and instead of a head

there is a little flagpole

and a flag

a black flag

blazoned

with a white sun.

Every image

is  a cape,

and every cape

a caper.

The eye of mind will witness

a checkered cleaving

near the pillar 

of leaving.

Its stain is lean

and hungry.

Be still my weary MOLERUNGAN

for my homunculus has become woolied..

In the seventh month of 1986

a snake moved out into the clearing,

and there it bared its white vulva

to the eternal forking

of the dreaming skies.

Who has called for red candle, here?

plauses in the pocession

(take hold of my paratext, greeting)
to board smear when how for foundaries take hold the prisoners all declaim 
how the douanier's ek-oilskin sheds a fogdog camera of milling silent drops
 or silhouette just crazing the cream may with rounded a forking corners the
grey folded fabricant whose tongue gilt ladders periscope along a blind alley
 of transparent hallucinating worms leaves a standing blunt for escarpments
 gone fishing for friendship's smooth jade kirin the body darker than the head
 and the whole form smoothed like a pipe handle from the kisses of acid dusk

(possession is confirmed by gravity)
an onyx symbol laid swaddling in fine grey linen
its constellation of hovering opaque lenses
performing roses upon the gateless gate
no plausibility exists to button

(as are ghosts)

hole this boot in ear

a fluted branch whose song

is a single silver leaf blade

which replaces the empty cage

whose spotlight of pseudopods

at once goes clowning

(within the careful layers of disorder)

ontology

you are solar fellation

which I blind

with my popcorn tiara forehead visor

the great chain of being

alas

is blonde

(the rubble of names sheltering a were-ness) 

Śūnyatāsaptati 

Vigrahavyāvartanī 

Vaidalyaprakaraṇa 

Vyavahārasiddhi 

Yuktiṣāṣṭika 

Catuḥstava 

Ratnāvalī 

Pratītyasamutpādahṝdayakārika 

Sūtrasamuccaya

Bodhicittavivaraṇa 

Suhṛllekha 

Bodhisaṃbhāra 

(gravity wills a trojan horse decorum)

my dog is overflowing

and the svelt pert ballerina

is poised upon the rickets of balcony

the inner POE

whose forehead

sprouts

a delicate crosshair

of Amontillado

(a crazing notion whose vision)

episteam

your blurred machine

if cape you locoined

if capon

by distance

we sleep in transparent blue chicken heads

our skulls pushing silking threads through goblet snakes

hyphen to 

your bubble masts

and drug wax mast head cannons

paper drifting

into stilted cathedrals

of paper

to be rolled on styx

detects an exterior mapped upon our boundary

a yellowed fur

we enter or leave

making brisk symbolic motions

in praise of heat

but to average its penciple's pressing deed that

We dew not one

we sphere weeds

for anarchy

ontology

fellating

semiotics'

whole

at-onts

a bulge through the line

could be anything

even an impasse

which qualifies

quanta

as cant

Why is there no red hot iron statue of Prometheus

glowing in the night?

salad hovers

singing through these canals

made of rusty horse shoes

(star tyger and star aerial)

the great sentence

in all its plastic Fredness

pulling

sucking

saliva from a muscle

the CELTIC peeple

all wearing mohawk sponges

sometime in the past

newspapers

had made me crazy

X-OF

ilsbanf nasnii

a tea of lavender foam

for helmet

and salamanders

for ears

I get no good gravy

but notice

my grey linen suit remains

but all the onyx

is horses

PEGASUS

you

are the 18th century

for a contemporary

RUDABAYGA

a blue velvet mask

for an invisibble mahn

the terse hippies of germ any

brightly clad daisy

your nurse

to a tea kettle

(just drop it they said)

but I push OHN

thru

Gravid teases

looking above

my own Bertrand Deborn this way

for signs

Whose ROMANTIC DEVO?

whose Samurai suddenly

Philadelphia

in lace

stained with

resonating masks

this heavy mask

speaks only to children
whose black asides
are lost
in cherish mote

Ahh Germane is Germany

the HOLY a HYLE and a GULL

an Ophelian minstrel platter

sent to test the guests

their verve

for raising hands

and arms 

against it

(but who comes first?)

It is a brat

no worse for wear

but always

pushing

its grey jacket

to the gap

How is this ever okay, exactly?

There is no significance to anything,

nor lack of significance.

Water is travel

awaiting

your most elegant kiss.

read the words

and suffer the revolt

the journey will define itself

whose amorphous blue door

is the tranquill zebra

of effort

THE LEFT HAND PATH ENCODED FIRMLY

in the joy of motoring

and style

a little bird owned me

tugging too and frow

on a candle

of shadows

The Great Work

is the pause.

this is no child murder.

this is no nudity.

I move to conjoin

heaven and earth

with a drainpipe

of clearance sales

upon a temple

to

mild dew

(gravity is itself drawing, the poison in and out like breathing)

Why CANT you, UNDERSTAND

The thought is a room

and the instrument

all scattered

beyond it

this prayer

is a grey jacket

i find by feeling

in a dark room

a shadow

feeling for shadows

near an oily macrame' bulb swing

depicting mutant owls

whose feet

are green faucets

Alchemy

is

Kedds.