To lay hands on the molecule
to cut the strip that separates
life from rock
to circumspect the unfathomable
poems breeding in test-tubes
the height makes nauseous aftertaste
to be human is an old prank
played by the algorithmic TV
sidewalks my city veins
to be headway but no meaning
soon to be becomes
mind the vessel of heaven
to
be
godlike.
My only desire
is to see
a stream of existence
fall through azure
at contact point
the intact reserves
of the world
sprouting
like the bubbles
at the end
of your pee.
who needs words
paper trojans!
inky farts!
infectious buzz!
belligerent blindfolded data!
classicist’s hard on!
bimbo parenthetical!
tomboy aphorism!
divorce schism-stamp!
bubbler vituperation!
unconscious monologue!
irrelevant ode!
what more is there to tell
when reality is full of cracks
ready for my mind-bending penetration!
it is in your cleavage
golden mother substance
that I surrender
as a drowning pinpoint
awaiting the thump
at the bottom
of the
rootless
age.
I’m biting off nails
spitting out tails
wagging at the dog
to wring out the fog
my emotion a sort of doppelganger
adrenaline in my poems when anger
is fire of the beast
I’m drinking out of your breast
like sex in the hands of God
isn’t it a century too goddamn odd
when things have no set end
and we’re always mixing a blend
of the most undrinkable guesses
my guess is that we’re like cocktail dresses
ready to be taken off
and then the real fun goes on
the oblique shadow of the skyscraper
waiting for sun to guide the dance
what a waste of wastepaper
this was my chance
to be
me
eating pieces of myself
while the day annihilates itself.
Jet stream of time
squirting months
momentarily too late
to do anything
that will save the moment
history has me by the skin
I am all biodegradable
compost for the unknown
developing
appetite for the instant
that will last for centuries
the idiot
as I am
seeing time
as a machine
industrialized for more
there is fluidity
in this duration
that spreads like a flood
over the coastlines
of my
isolated sojourn.
It’s in the ambivalent
sense
of the word
terrific
that I encounter
the
ordinary
the plain
matter-of-fact
objects
that surround us
like fences
of yesterday
the external
inanimate junk
that seems
simultaneously
a reflection
of the sublime
the objective wasteland
that is
proportional
to the subjective Edens
it is in that sense
of duality
that
I see all things
as
the nascent
finite infinity.
learn meanings
asphyxia
coated roughness
in tender existence
panic so beautiful
you call it
god
learn the noise
behind the word
lurking behind
a search
so silent
you call it
drums
learn abyss
a fall
inevitably soft
dismemberment
asunder
you call it
peace
learn meaning
holding the concept
explosions
ready to kill
the unity of thought
you should call it
jackpot!
SENSE
that perhaps
our senses
make no
SENSE
REASON
gave me
too many reasons
to quit
REASON
MIND
said
would you mind
being out of your
MIND
WILL
I ever
free
my free
WILL
Frenzy
shot
bullseye in the heart
of society’s prodigies:
the quitters
Wild
irrevocable
reading Cioran
blasphemously drunk
or stoned
speed techno flesh
in the early hours
of disaster
Years in despair
the world
a blank bullet
and all the
fury
ready
to shoot dead
the sad beautiful
galaxies
Who will moralize
us
you, automata politicians
pedophile religions
Wall Street noise
or 7 effective habits
for irreversible
boredom
Free
chaos as the
jury
a pack of smokes
while surveying
the world’s cancer
outgrow
our own
The wild fire
of our philosophy
supernova of exasperations
intravenous soul
into our antics
bruised forefathers
in our dreamscapes
a rebel with
metaphysical whiskey
listening to tunes
you’ll never hear
sitting at a bar
you’ll never know
waiting in a night
you’ll be as good as dead
a junkie
a messiah
an anthem
yours sincerely,
Poetry.
I’m all black ink
an exile sketch
varicose vein in the night
scents and trends
lead me to your derelict niches
porcupines of light piercing the dance floor
a thousand shiny faces of techno
human tentacles
up in the air
exit
two stars
over my astray skull
if I could sculpt
this eccentricity
into
art.
Beyond Language 
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