Ars Memoram (rough draft)

And now that we have completely become rent asunder unto ourselves,
And now the sword hangs from a golden thread over a silver throne
And now, not now, now
And always not now, always never
Pick it up, dust it off
The aperture of entropy
Vocabulary; I learned all the words I use from women I hated
Barbs on which my tongue caught
now there is only the muscle memory of how my tongue
traced those fruits, caught the water condensing on gems
Soiled, leaving a taste like rubber, tongue corroded the pathways of taste
Necrotized soft palate, dripping with validation
Dripping, spitting your scent blooded, foaming down my chin
Dripping, your sweet vindication, cold, closed, saccharine, sanguine, but
Drop me off on this corner, I can just walk away from here.

Uplift your arms and unattach them

Take it by the wrists and shake it off
enjoy it by the ankles and in refined cadence
Find time to regain ominous metaphor
while often gory, each item is best exhibited
dexterous and sullenly drips a horny hair
in here, he cares and can’t and site’s ‘em
you’re there, he’s dear, fears he can’t bear to
caress, much less find the means to put
a notion in his jeans under duress.

Untitled #11

As a blind blind draws
and crows amuse themselves on the refuse of others
as ink injects through and through
as oil in milk
and you, fucker?
And me?
Crowley’s clambering shadow
and Xeno’s expert architecture
how droll, and rank
the stink; growling degradation
as blood, as skulls crumbling like dust
as coiling entrails, steaming twinkling waterfall
as curdling food rises to my throat at the thought
And you fucker?
How does the bile taste? The ephemera?
How does it feel to write a poem and smile?
How does it feel to sing and dance and fuck?
How does it feel to snort, smoke, inject?
How does it feel to remain unsatisfied?
And you fucker?
Sit unchained in your easy chair
Sit me sad outside a door, knocking
Sit before a broken typewriter
Sit in the wilderness, in a log, buried in mud
as the dust
and the putrid
and the exhaustion
and you fucker

Your friend Mike called. Mike Ock.

Baby spleen turns my shit green
but it turns back to brown
after I’ve swallowed it down
Wonder how turds
can be so absurd?

Skullfuck (The Dead)

Kicking dirt off my boots

make it hurt, broken tooth

Climb out the hole,

something’s wrong with my head

I ain’t got no soul

Skullfuck the dead.

Dead girls are easy

they don’t give a shit

pop one in her skull

and slap her around a bit

Diggin the hole is the hardest part

dig up a fresh one, and eat her heart!

Dead bodies, their all the same

But I only want what’s in their head

I want to fuck their brains!

Skullfuck the dead

Skullfucking’s easy

it don’t take much skill

pick out a corpse

and go in for the kill

Skullfucking the dead

it’s awesome as hell

Pop your load in a cold one

if you can stand the smell.

Deapsea

Sometimes it is sad to see you

even when there is no trace of you around.

Invisiable Son

Spaceship crash landed

somewhere round Pluto

making its escape

I’ve been branded

with the sort of hope

that predates shape

When they take me apart

they won’t find you

When they take me apart

they wont find you

Finally, there’s nothing left

to do.

Spaceship empty

contents vaporized

something having to do

with whoever sent me

the path I was on

my uncovered lies

When they take my heart

they won’t give me you

When they take my heart

I won’t get you

At least there wasn’t anything

left to do.

Stuck now on Pluto

with the ghosts of

cosmonauts

wringing my hands

at the thought of

all I’ve never lost.

When they take me away

they won’t bring me to you

When they take me away

they won’t bring me to you

I’m done.  There wasn’t anything

to do.

Jealous Motherfuckers

Piss sits in booze jars

Booze jars sit in corner, hung

over locked doorway.

Defense, Defenstrator, Chronic Masturbator

My ghost triangles, grows confounded tangles:

grasping dangling hounding new-fangled iron

shackle, imagine intimate immaculate, arrange

the glamor hammer cackle, spackle space for

imagined pantry mantle.  She says:

get a handle on it, you newfangled mental vandal!

Clean the spider’s finger rancor, mangle space and time

and bang your head till empty space can fill within the crime.

Undaunted, eye wanders fancy through the hazy maze of pride,

handy signs for where to saunter simmer through the present I

meaning haunting meaning, high like someone’s gleaming hustle

Try and stop the running taunt, running from the blinding bustle.

Ode to Deepsea

Your absent shores ignore me now

boring how our plighty resentment,

how callous our investment, insight,

lure me down, fighting Naruda blue.

Invite me into you, I’m stuck outside-

I never was alive, and never untrue.

Deliver me, Deep Blue, reflected in the sky,

the sun, the moon, a lie.  Recolection,

mirror in time of deals done, fear,

reach, sigh, enliven me or else I die.