blues heaven

when all the blood runs out
i want to be bending a wild string of moan
falling on the close cool bed of blues heaven
with the last utterance of broken idiotic song
i will sing at the top of my lungs of hot rod yellow
and smear golden lust on my face in blues heaven
when evening rays beam a final burst of light
while i make love to my screaming empress
i will orgasm high into starry blues heaven
when my body creaks and breaks down in dust clods
my hands will strum the spanish guitar
pose in front of the snorting bull in blues heaven
when agony paints a wicked stroke
across the dew draped morning with gun in hand
i curl blissfully in the arms of blues heaven
when i’m pounding out my best song
to the jungle of voices in the night
there will be no worry knee deep in blues heaven
as breath recedes and turns to black stone
i will run on grunion beaches and fosse fluorescent oceans
splashing in gospel church up blues heaven
in halloween mist as the reaper stops me in my tracks
i will hang from the feet of flying blue heroin
yell down a beautiful verse laughing to blues heaven
treading water out beyond the waves beyond reach
on one summer dawn on a pacific bay
alive alive in the salty current of blues heaven
when the endless torment sleepless night
gives way to dreams that dream of dreams
i will wake and write the words to blues heaven

drizzle

dusk aborts the moon
a drop of oval white
into the night pool
rings push out
ripple star infinity
space ribbons highway
mythology growling future
i shut my eyes
in mothers arms
i hold my breath
and cross the waters
i bask in sun dream
warm behind closed eyes
lids of orange red hot
distant cello
peace of pure moon
dragging over heavens desert
stones skipping over
glassiness and heavy blood
forest of solitary hearts
gnashing teeth
caught in the system
the tide of sheep
puking out cycles of years
bile staining the floorboard
abortion of pale moon
i choke on
i catch love in the drizzle
in the desert
as it evaporates before
i can touch
sometimes i hear
the wind of souls
oval white
in grandfather skin

the only indian

under the singing sky
and winging hawk
the snake the only
indian left hunting silent
prairies legless armless
listening hard to the earth
inherited misrepresented
forked tongue still
hapless and marked
for extermination
by madmen and cars
in the camouflage
of destiny

eyes of spring

day flakes off
and scatters on
gnat wings from
the creek where
masterpiece silence
glows on blades
of heat that has
perched on the
backdoor bobbing
sideways in childish
indecision the planet
is lost in the grass
the eyes of spring
advertising in bonnets
plum blossoms herald
the market is open
dogs sneak away
hunting for tires
in the dirt chipped
mirrors and ash
touching the speed
of rust hearing
the dandelion yip
a day could be
missed a page
in a book a sound
in a crowd
but if today were
my keys and i lost
them i would
search franticly
the eyes of spring
for the trouble
to replace them

broken city

spray paint the broken city
scales in black radiance
falling widows falling smiles
roadway lined with vacant hearts
pistil whipped slaves trod
stagger day through day
in the pathetic whitewash
satellite dish serving up sorrow
spray paint suburbia excited
dash it with orange blue
dash its brains out
senseless return to the kitchen
hold the flame extinguished
cold wick backend thing
vibrato guitar swims through the streets
swims in troubled doors
cliffs and grenades ride the merry-go-round
blinking fast in the ravaged sun
dashing night red eyed fox
reach out the falling windows
that frames your blue seas
wasps and tornadoes fallow
humming a melody
run so fast run with white horses
with hoofed bent roses
aluminum time
nothing behind the paint
the silver fox
dashes into the underbrush
leaving the
broken city

for the mask

caught you stomping
feet bare on red tiles
feel of ooze between
toes where the mask
crumbled and ran with
hatred and joy while
the sparrows flew
circled your head
penitentes heard the
commotion the
breakage and knocked
you stared at the floor
in broken pieces
timelessness in your throat
warm taos wind
snuck in painting
your hair jumping in
the sports car
stepping on the highway
checking the glove box
for the mask