Industrial Indigestion

And there I go again

Getting caught under the market awnings

Swept off my pretty damn damsel feet

By the pavement cement and glass

Material commodity everywhere I go,

Civilized!

Love-Sex, everywhere

Every where I go paths to tell me where to walk

How to get home

How to get lost

Who laid these down 

To cage the grass and liberty

The wild is the only space

Left without capital-labor fuck

The wild is clean

But THIS is the market

A nineteen-year-old female

Who has not showered in one week

Moreover, who regularly rides mass transit?

Socialist! going un-crucified. more so, liked!

DIRTY 

Surely, this can be resolved

Pick cattle from the crowd 

We can lie down

Play house, the romance of private property!

Purchase battery-operated brains

And procreate

Barbarian 

Inching irresponsibly too far into the feeding pool,

A wild heart prone to suffering in the streets

Smiling and sighing

Pulses ricochet undisciplined

Beating blood barking through veins

To know you are alive

Do you not know?

Did they not tell you?

Come to your senses. 

chivalry

Handful of young ass just skin fat tissue animal cells blood
But he had to have it
BABYGIRL ass
BABYGIRL skin fat tissue animal cells blood
She knew the way her body felt in the palm of his hand
She felt it
All followed by a firm squeeze from his muscles nerves brain
SIR PLEASE!
pussycuntvagina
backwardsbentoverallfours
Verbal diarrhea,
Stunk of Maker's Mark
Got her in a corner
Spouting out the 'babygirls'
BABYGIRL C'MON BABYGIRL
PLEASE SIR PLEASE
Handful of young ass
A red toaster
Newest model automobile
Shiniest, toughest foil for food
Shirts that smell like the store hangers still
Had to have it
Couldn't not have it
She knew it She felt it
Only begged, "SIR, this is just another body"

IN THE WEEDS

Midnight
Good Morning
I make coffee more fearful than ever

Exhilaration? 

arrival and departure

MISTER Robert Flores
MISTER Thomas Leonard
BLUE BELL TRUCK DRIVER
(with thick country accent & southern pride),
Please tell me where it is you are going,
What mountains you are about to see!

Long night?
Long travels ahead?
What does HOME look like?

OH!
The Grape Vines! The Mojave! The Appalachians!
Blue Ridge! Smokies! Rockies!
I am dreaming, again.

Went & forgot your name.
You got so irritated & hurt.
Just wish you could understand.

Please come back soon.

Ecocide

The ends of fingers have gotten heavy
There are no ridges of sand at the bottom of the water to feel
And if there was

The ends of fingers have gotten too heavy to lift and touch and experience.

They have been landlocked for years in the spilt insides of the Appalachians.
The interstates and accents and God make the water stand still
So no body ventures down stream, through the canal, out to the ocean;
Though, brain cell fog and heartless optical nerve spite staying and loving.


Simulated fish swim away from each other in frenzy.
Salt in the water breathes righteously, 

knowing simply and fully all of it, everything
The creator, tiny and infinite and CELLULAR.

fifty-fourth avenue parading by

you know you know you know
primates to robots,
what do you know?
summer has to come

 

that male's profile does not over joy me

it is clear 
leaving and being left:
i remember
in love condensation
on this late winter night
but what do i do?

funny
the scheme of things

robotic thoughts 

set to strip malls bowling alleys and stoplights

primate feelings

set to centuries of the primitive wild

we leave it and let it leave us

the audiotape goes to scratch
it's the way the conversation goes

let it pass

all the trees are dead

what to look at in wonder without thought? 


scribbling in the backseat of a car,
all you can say about that one
is silent in the subliminal design
on a white truck
of a popular postal service company

there is no wonder