The Ark

My new pants
were cool

for like
a week

and then they just
kept shrinking

and shrinking--

waiting
for the flood.

Drivers Needed

Autumn's goodyear
rips the road

ass open
spawning

mummified
cats by the dozens.

A rising loaf
bangs against

the oven
glass.

The wolf-heart
is looking in

Its face
like a sledge hammer.

If you drive
down May Road

in late
September

you can hear
the grinding of bones,

feel the hollow
eyes of a coyote

Pressing
your spine into Orion.

The Groundskeeper

These trees
have become
my bones.

And the
birds are
going viral.

How in the
rot of an oak
has it come to this?

              Damned to toil.

In the Tesla-alloy Skyscape

I am coming in the 7th density, coming through the fallen ribcage with arm extensions.

Some galaxy in the eye collapses and tears the leopard in half like a rag wraith. I am cata-cata in the unwraith, I unearth myself in attics; twist the capa off the mummified cata to get to the wolf-data, my forearms shrap off the root system, right off of the sycamore spewing ejecta into the ecosphere.

I am coming in the tree-pod swelling, coming to amputate the Methuselah.

Trees

You spiral
like the river

into the grave
yard of trees.

You have seen
the undertow,

been dragged
through the

shrapnel city.

Welcome to
the infirmary

of oak, ash & thorn.
the sycamore

is ill, shedding
at the touch:

What are friends for?

A Soundscape Poem

I'm starting to work on a group of audio poems. Here is the first. It is one of my sci-fi world poems and explores the reality of animal cruelty and suffering.

The Duck Pond

...and what
hurts the most

is that I know
I won't become

a prince
if you kiss me.

I can see
my toad-body

in the backhand
of a streetlight.

Only frogs
are slimy enough.

...to slip away.

Masterbatory

I really
want to light

your paper
 doll

on fire

and fertilize
the flora-funk,

to really jerk off

mother nature
and cream

the purple night
with my

American
dream hammer.

Good News!

One of my recent poems was just published at Clare Literary Journal. Their new website and the new issue was released today. Check it out!

Adjustment

I reject my doll
face in the same way

that two squirrels
spiral up a poplar.

If you squeeze
the water baby

its head will launch into
the bedroom of animalia.

Now get dreamy
with a real plastic boy

your hands on
the patented Soulknob.

The squirrels
are dialed-in,

turned up,
their cheeks full of nuts.

Frogger Me

I spiral around

the compound

on an 87' 

Wheel Horse.

I wear the fallen

like a coat of lead.

*

On the way

to the boneyard,

a frog popped open.

It's what's inside

that counts.

(The things you'll 

never know).

Charm

Break the aquatic

ape at the base

of the skull.

Observe the fruit

spread from the outside

of the jar.

It's more

than it seems--

it's going long.

Spiritanimal

I remember
when the trees

put their arms
around me

and the hawks
ripped the faces

off the bloodhounds.

The Wrack

Orchestrate
the cat sound.

Wolf-rip
the dog-skin.

Body-slam
the lamb sound

or castrate
the spine out.

Roll out
the coffin cat.

Cough out
the blot clot

Wake up
the dog

Christ and
          crawl

           out the
               stained-glass
                   
                    faces
                       of the river.

Icyhot

Throb, throb
bear-heart,

tiger-shatter.

Shadow-bird,
tiger-heart

no, sorry, no.

Today

The cicada
has left the building

in the way
a seedling

eats its own
bodything--

attaching
its permanence.

Guilt

Egg-water
stillness.

Salt
of night.

Dog-face
boy.

Maw full
of sorrow.

Untitled

Today I
slammed the lid
threw up
the last bit
of fake milk
pushed out
the claws
that snapped off
inside of me
the crescent
moon is fully
waning I can't
see your face
a friend is
a friend is a
word for people
who bump
into each other
then go their
separate ways
Abracadabra!
I make the ?s
GO AWAY
the pens
are dried up
even the red
has been bled
The cotton
woods will be
the cotton woods
again the Sycamore
a sycamore
your voice
in the leaves
is gone with the
railroad tracks
pull the ties out
drive a stake in it
put a fork in me
all the best.

Megastructures

This is my swamp theory, my swallow hole, we are--of course--primates baby, love gestures. The megafauna has gone hydrolithic. The trees are a bit off in the backwash fog scrolling out the sea, floor-spreading. I want to creep my hair off, to spiral out of the bear suit, by jove! I adjust the psi in the bear-pod, bear-butt. I'll show you light, lunar, blue wave, white flight, lightning, flora-funk skycap herd-rattle parabird superfugi the city getting squeezed out the glacial mill. I will show you deep fur surging.

Waiting Room

That bird won't
look at me.

I mean the dog
won't even look at me.

My bones are waiting--

Won't someone
pull the sheets off the Yeti.

Ejection

I taste you
in sister estrella,

hear you in the
chupacabra bones.

Feel me out
like a nervous sheet

of eagles--

the brush
stroke of other things.