mortals

Night after night coyotes wear human masks
Mixing into the quiet tangos of frozen bank accounts
Dwarf towers bring garlands of headaches to big-eyed animals
Whose bones never shine to anyone except a tinker from someone’s childhood
It is enough to skip a breath and there is no reason for
A goddess to share her teeth among sleeping mortals

 

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19 thoughts on “mortals

    • Do not worry
      Next time i’ll bring you jim jones himself in drag
      Holding a sickle and a hammer in his gnarly hands
      He has spent enough time in the otherworld
      To be totally platonic
      Jazz critters are losing their admiration in advance

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  1. hollow spaces beneath the admiration lost
    the mass-murder choir
    TABLOID JAZZ
    music with or without gallop
    music consumed like soothing syrup
    rumor has it that you pay to keep your secrets secret
    the ragged margins of romance—codebook sex
    in between sessions… fist-fights and WordPress
    pinball sounds in your shorts
    autobiographical

    Like

    • Music is like bones
      A procession of skeletons that would make laugh
      Every decent tarot reader especially a charlatan
      No they would rather consume pure disgusting sugar floating all over the ocean

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    • You should try to change your wordpress password 57 times in an hour
      And let your church choir sing those words and numbers this sunday
      You will never be the same after that

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      • are you trying to say.
        “THE NOCTURNAL TURNING TOWARD DAWN”
        press pass 57 is code for ketchup
        and ketchup is code for blood
        nothing voluptuous about antique breasts
        old melons outside essential romantic notions
        both better and worse—2 in the sac
        the courage to accost Robert Frost
        excruciating poetry and endless imitations
        raking words like leaves—amateur poverty

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  2. the laborious task of stringing words together
    with the lights down low, you tidy up your thoughts
    the lesbian librarian with the big knife on her belt
    is still mad at you……….enough said
    she does have a touch of other-worldliness
    quibbles and innuendoes—not mainstream

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  3. GRUNTING TO RASPING TO WAILING
    BABY BIRD
    you got a shiny saxophone
    the fingernails of tradition
    associated with the avant-garde
    poetry outside the stretch of feeling
    critics used only one term: REINTERPRETED
    OMG, how many times in one night
    can one hear that word ?
    ARE YOU HAVING FUN ?
    The Postal School of Poetry
    asks you that question every day
    no one mentions the linear dialogue
    that you have with your horn

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    • No i am not having any fun
      I am drinking green darjeeling at the sheremetyevo airport
      It’s 4:49am here now
      While they are opening the dia de los muertos exhibition in colorado
      With all its beatiful beautiful bones
      My phone is half broken and all miles davis’ music is lost
      Till i come back

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  4. SHEREMETYEVO HAS THE LARGEST AIRPORT TAPEWORMS
    IN THE WORLD
    it is true
    sorry, but you have tapeworms
    “resist but probably not annihilate”
    you have claimed to be impregnable
    poets claim all kinds of things
    the worms leave a persistent pattern
    in your commode logs
    tapeworms with pseudonyms
    fascinated by themselves alone
    the worms seem pessimistic
    ————–I know you’ve hooked up
    with gougers and castrators
    the embroidery of family
    no love making
    no interest in love
    the sadistic sting
    when you pee

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    • why should i care
      these creatures constantly travel from one body to another
      leaving no trace behind
      the same way a dollar bill which is now in your pocket
      is going to be mine very soon
      any kind of resistance is futile
      don’t you remember what jesus said:
      “do not store up for yourselves tapeworms on earth
      where moths and vermin destroy and where thieves break in and steal
      but store up for yourselves tapeworms in heaven”

      Like

  5. I am shocked that you are quoting the Bible to me
    Good Lord, June Bugs in October !
    Jesus said a lot of things
    but he didn’t write “MOBY DICK”
    some of the major questions
    circle his genital apparatus
    a local librarian claims
    that HE was into pharmacotoxic orgasms

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    • this is strange, but apparently god hasn’t told you
      that every possible utterance is a part of his holy book
      moby dick is no exception
      now tell me how i can avoid quoting the bible while talking to you
      as to june bugs in october, this should be just a minor mishap

      Like

  6. thank you for the comforting words
    the slow connection to the immediate GOD
    can I blame it on a broken circuit ?
    have been having dreams about digging up
    the bones of Kerouac and making a soup with them
    I might add—a calcium rich soup
    in the future someone may dig up your bones
    and create a new alcohol
    “booze for noble minds”
    —————————–
    everywhere I go—hobo poets
    mental ward poets
    street people with shopping carts full of stolen books
    library books with pretty pictures
    victims of fissures of the psyche
    —————————–
    all rich people are treasonous spies

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    • sorry i am not competent in circuits and other electronic shit
      but in case you wish to know about the fast connection
      reread the book of jonah for example
      there were times when i was a young soviet idiot and hadn’t even read that book
      noble minds used to drink disgusting bolshevist port hiding from the militsiya in the shrubbery back then

      kerouac is nothing
      you should try to locate the bones of jack spicer
      bob kaufman jack micheline or osip mandelstam
      this is a proper task for truly inquisitive minds

      Like

  7. I find that if one starts reading the Bible
    TROUBLE arrives in Nascar fashion
    26 kinds of angels freeloading
    then the dark side takes up camp outside
    then the neighbors complain
    they and their pets
    become beaten, oppressed, and dehumanized
    demonic naked children
    perform grotesque parodies
    from SNL
    the FBI start examining your blog
    microcosmic focus
    anything with soviet fragments
    they know only to well
    the influences of language
    (God help you if you ever attended Harvard)

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    • I only know that all decent writers of the past
      Are living now in james patterson’s and stephen king’s digs
      In the shapes still allowed to them
      And (surprise, surprise) behaving quite courteously
      At least the neighbors don’t complain

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      • the idolatry of Patterson and King
        I never got a scholarship to them
        perpetual words
        like leaves
        for Robert Frost
        never cease
        or so it seems
        poets performing
        in a theater of cruelty
        dallying with words
        suffering explanations
        ———————————-
        HOLDING THE HOOVES
        OVER TO THE SIDE

        Like

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