BIG BLACK CAR

spreading her

lies
spreading her

legs

Beatitude

a drawing of
your hand
is not your
hand but it
will satisfy law
enforcement
when bitch
slapping yourself
not realizing
Soupy Sales
died long after
Richard Brautigan
dipped his radar
gun into a glass
of orange juice
there in North
Beach around the
time you shoplifted
that copy of Book
Of Dreams just to
impress the one
and only girl who
ever had a bigger
dick than yours

Be True

playing along with the
shadows more human
than you want to be
nothing to drink so
there is an abacus of
pills not really quite
the same thing but it
will tally the right score
if you count those odd
dreams a prerequisite
for ever waking up

PLANTING FOSSILS

art and science

"on lies on top of
lies on top of lies"

Not Tonight

bad poetry always
reminds me of bad stand
up comedy especially
at readings where it's so
fucking serious but still
pretty funny to watch the
audience sit on the edge
of depression listening
to that monotone crap
praying for the punch
line never realizing they
are going to need all those
precious minutes the
last hours before death

DISCLAIMER

Not Responsible

For Anything

Prayed To A God

I Don't Believe In

Pesticide Drift

you may die a
week after you
read this exactly
the point of not
giving a fuck
lose someone
find yourself
only for a
moment then
it's the blood
clot wine the
porcelain white
pinfeathering
up off the plate
into a dodo's
flight past where
another pair of lips
already mouth
your name

Glossary For An Outskirt

mercurochrome
drying on her
broken doll's eyes,

THE LONG GONE LONESOME

Haggard fishes a plastic
M&M container of weed
from the pocket of his
camouflage shirt, shrinks
low on the seat and lights
a black glass pipe.