Tight Rope Turns

The windows of the train are chalked with the stains of old rain.  The sun shines, not unwelcome. It is winter in Denver land. And I am riding a lunchtime zig zag. A man full of brass and grocery.bags belts responses to his periodically tinkling phone. Hello. Why you hang up. What. You called me. Laughter. Fewer than ten souls ride in the car with me.  All spaced like oranges concerned with breathing room and color. I go to the limit of my hour long leash, to return ugoods recently found to be unneeded. I can only assume a safe return, only hope for an uneventful trip. It is the unexpected that spices life, and the surplus of which poisons it.  A bucket dipped in the well should not bring death, a stroll should not ellicit fear.  My stop approaches. I am nearing some junction of choice and fate. Ever another twist of the knot.

+ = -

Be the cause, all is analogy.

One equals n.

Some eh, casions solve quicker than others.

There was never a person, Druthers.

If you've heard the name, you made the same.

Be the cause, the tree, ...and me.

Fiction is reality.
Fact is rumor.
Psychotic breaks are for kids.

Silly purple rabbit.

psychological mirrors

Psychological aberrations, exhalations, investigations, waystations. Thoughts lying about thoughts. Eyes closing themselves. Automatic denial systems activated by blue streaks of truth. Calculating chimes tick off the last hour of breeze. Motion noted in time, by reference, by rote obligation. By psychological mirrors I keep here between breaths.
Written from an underground missle escaping the Loop. With strangers beside, fresh from clocking out, clocking on.

Item

Something will need to be done.  Some thing will need a construction.  A construct given more than a hopeful frame. A frame holding more than glazing. A sight, seen, a cite, scene. A joke told backwards, the punchbowl spiked after the rumble. Come on pony boy. Find the fence and break the bottle. Come on memory, find the lance and break the ladle. Something is in the dark corner of this world's room. Some thing waits in Jamestown. There is one of us not named Jim. Come quickly. Come again.  Do you hear?

At A Remove

Remove your eyes from what you see
Shed your skin of touch
Note not the echoes in thy ear
Tongue the empty atmosphere

At a remove All is gone
Allow the foundations to crumble
As summer shunned leaves from the tree
Expose the wood naked and humble

At a glance
All is chance
Our Passion but debris
Seeking the holy dustbin

All at once
All is double and thrice
We must yet fight chaos
And I still prefer rooster sauce with my rice

Your Forgetting Place

I want to go do something else. To build things. To make crazy wayward things in my tinker room. Perhaps buy clockworks and rearrange the faces, make them do strange, errant things in perfect ordered time. I want to bring Illusion back into the weekday. I want the stories to never end. Let each be our sequel to the previous, and not merely repeat. I want to make stuff. I want to be a paid artist. A mad scientist with machines that go nowhere and do nothing but strike the eye and the apprehension. I want to let my hands run wild. I want to waste afternoons and forget the important things until after night fall. I want burn the midnight oil and wake up drunk on the fermentation of new ideas and possibilities uncounted. I want to leave my eyes behind. I want to make kids’ toys for grownups. I want to teach things I barely know to the unaware. I love her. I want to buy dozens of kites, fly them up each in turn, and tie them off to poles, trees, stray dogs. I want to be prosecuted by the State for excessive kite flying. I want them to chase me. I want to be protested and supported, and then see those sign carrying passionate fools suddenly switch sides like Orwellian drones with two feet down the memory hole. I want to play with robotics. I want to burn board games like witches at the stakes, and then write long apologetic histories to document the atrocity. I want to be a known unknown. I want to wear a black swan on the back of my black motorcycle jacket. I want fear and loathing. I want to party with Hunter S. I want to not feel wasted as I waste me. I want to know the secrets of women and the dreams of children. I want to leave the bullshit behind. I want to pay off the house and then walk away. I want to writhe and speak in tongues, to convince the leaders to abdicate, to free the power deserted masses, to hold mass without churches, without prophets, without lavender. I want the storms to be rolled back into the nothing balls of butterfly wing disturbance from whence they came. I want to see a live mastodon. I want Russia to accomplish this and then invade Nome on a big, hairy, trunked cavalry. I want the bees to be ok. I want us to think for once, and then maybe for again. I want to pair pears with pearls. I want salmon butterscotch. I want rainbows at night. I want lives immortal but brief. I want the demons to give it a rest. There is no sanction, no sanctity, no super sucker black hole in my heart. I want you to remember this place. I want you to realize there is no past nor future but this shared space of transfiguring meaning and misinterpretation. I want you to find me hear, to here me. I want you to wonder if you’re in hear too, some weird close, some plankton nearby, singing sweet subtle sounds on the Sunday of your forgetting place. Of the Sea, Sun, Soil, And the terrifying trench of Time.

To go do something else. To build things. To make crazy wayward things in my tinker room. Perhaps buy clockworks and rearrange the faces, make them do strange, errant things in perfect ordered time. To bring illusion back into the weekday. The stories to never end. Let each be our sequel to the previous, and not merely repeat. To make stuff. To be a paid artist. A mad scientist with machines that go nowhere and do nothing but strike the eye and the apprehension. To let my hands run wild. To waste afternoons and forget the important things until after night fall. Burn the midnight oil and wake up drunk on the fermentation of new ideas and possibilities uncounted. To leave my eyes behind. To make kids’ toys for grownups. To teach things barely know to the unaware. Love her. To buy dozens of kites, fly them up each in turn, and tie them off to poles, trees, stray dogs. To be prosecuted by the state for excessive kite flying. Them to chase me. To be protested and supported, and then see those sign carrying passionate fools suddenly switch sides like orwellian drones with two feet down the memory hole. To play with robotics. To burn board games like witches at the stakes, and then write long apologetic histories to document the atrocity. To be a known unknown. To wear a black swan on the back of my black motorcycle jacket. Fear and loathing. To party with hunter s. To not feel wasted as waste me. To know the secrets of women and the dreams of children. To leave the bullshit behind. To pay off the house and then walk away. To writhe and speak in tongues, to convince the leaders to abdicate, to free the power deserted masses, to hold mass without churches, without prophets, without lavender. The storms to be rolled back into the nothing balls of butterfly wing disturbance from whence they came. To see a live mastodon. Russia to accomplish this and then invade nome on a big, hairy, trunked cavalry. The bees to be ok. Us to think for once, and then maybe for again. To pair pears with pearls. Salmon butterscotch. Rainbows at night. Lives immortal but brief. The demons to give it a rest. There is no sanction, no sanctity, no super sucker black hole in my heart. You to remember this place. You to realize there is no past nor future but this shared space of transfiguring meaning and misinterpretation. You to find me hear, to here me. You to wonder if you’re in hear too, some weird close, some plankton nearby, singing sweet subtle sounds on the sunday of your forgetting place. Of the sea, sun, soil, and the terrifying trench of time.

Go do something else. Build things. Make crazy wayward things in my tinker room. Perhaps buy clockworks and rearrange the faces, make them do strange, errant things in perfect ordered time. Bring illusion back into the weekday. The stories never end. Let each be our sequel the previous, and not merely repeat. Make stuff. Be a paid artist. A mad scientist with machines that go nowhere and do nothing but strike the eye and the apprehension. Let my hands run wild. Waste afternoons and forget the important things until after night fall. Burn the midnight oil and wake up drunk on the fermentation of new ideas and possibilities uncounted. Leave my eyes behind. Make kids’ toys for grownups. Teach things barely know the unaware. Love her. Buy dozens of kites, fly them up each in turn, and tie them off poles, trees, stray dogs. Be prosecuted by the state for excessive kite flying. Them chase me. Be protested and supported, and then see those sign carrying passionate fools suddenly switch sides like orwellian drones with two feet down the memory hole. Play with robotics. Burn board games like witches at the stakes, and then write long apologetic histories document the atrocity. Be a known unknown. Wear a black swan on the back of my black motorcycle jacket. Fear and loathing. Party with hunter s. Not feel wasted as waste me. Know the secrets of women and the dreams of children. Leave the bullshit behind. Pay off the house and then walk away. Writhe and speak in tongues, convince the leaders abdicate, free the power deserted masses, hold mass without churches, without prophets, without lavender. The storms be rolled back into the nothing balls of butterfly wing disturbance from whence they came. See a live mastodon. Russia accomplish this and then invade nome on a big, hairy, trunked cavalry. The bees be ok. Us think for once, and then maybe for again. Pair pears with pearls. Salmon butterscotch. Rainbows at night. Lives immortal but brief. The demons give it a rest. There is no sanction, no sanctity, no super sucker black hole in my heart. You remember this place. You realize there is no past nor future but this shared space of transfiguring meaning and misinterpretation. You find me hear, here me. You wonder if you’re in hear too, some weird close, some plankton nearby, singing sweet subtle sounds on the sunday of your forgetting place. Of the sea, sun, soil, and the terrifying trench of time.

Godosomethingelse.Buildthings.Makecrazywaywardthingsinmytinkerroom.Perhapsbuyclockworksandrearra
ngethefaces,makethemdostrange,errantthingsinperfectorderedtime.Bringillusionbackintotheweekday.Thestori
esneverend.Leteachbeoursequeltheprevious,andnotmerelyrepeat.Makestuff.Beapaidartist.Amadscientistwith
machinesthatgonowhereanddonothingbutstriketheeyeandtheapprehension.Letmyhandsrunwild.Wasteafternoo
nsandforgettheimportantthingsuntilafternightfall.Burnthemidnightoilandwakeupdrunkonthefermentationofnewid
easandpossibilitiesuncounted.Leavemyeyesbehind.Makekids’toysforgrownups.Teachthingsbarelyknowtheun
aware.Loveher.Buydozensofkites,flythemupeachinturn,andtiethemoffpoles,trees,straydogs.Beprosecutedbyth
estateforexcessivekiteflying.Themchaseme.Beprotestedandsupported,andthenseethosesigncarryingpassionate
foolssuddenlyswitchsideslikeorwelliandroneswithtwofeetdownthememoryhole.Playwithrobotics.Burnboardga
meslikewitchesatthestakes,andthenwritelongapologetichistoriesdocumenttheatrocity.Beaknownunknown.Wea
rablackswanonthebackofmyblackmotorcyclejacket.Fearandloathing.Partywithhunters.Notfeelwastedaswaste
me.Knowthesecretsofwomenandthedreamsofchildren.Leavethebullshitbehind.Payoffthehouseandthenwalkaw
ay.Writheandspeakintongues,convincetheleadersabdicate,freethepowerdesertedmasses,holdmasswithoutchur
ches,withoutprophets,withoutlavender.Thestormsberolledbackintothenothingballsofbutterflywingdisturbancefr
omwhencetheycame.Seealivemastodon.Russiaaccomplishthisandtheninvadenomeonabig,hairy,trunkedcavalry
.Thebeesbeok.Usthinkforonce,andthenmaybeforagain.Pairpearswithpearls.Salmonbutterscotch.Rainbowsatni
ght.Livesimmortalbutbrief.Thedemonsgiveitarest.Thereisnosanction,nosanctity,nosupersuckerblackholeinmyh
eart.Yourememberthisplace.Yourealizethereisnopastnorfuturebutthissharedspaceoftransfiguringmeaningandmi
sinterpretation.Youfindmehear,hereme.Youwonderifyou’reinheartoo,someweirdclose,someplanktonnearby,si
ngingsweetsubtlesoundsonthesundayofyourforgettingplace.Ofthesea,sun,soil,andtheterrifyingtrenchoftime.

Ribbon Room

Tied up in this ribboned room
Left triggered, double mute
Who needs children, you are my child

Evil, Grinderman, in my ears
Never time for an oath
Double breasted, an inner layer I boast

All this was said
In the hair salon
In the parlor parley
Miss tone
Miss under footed

Fought to blue
Fought to blue

I Met Her

I want your mother to be my mother. I want your father to be my father. I want your brother as my sister. I want my father to be your mother. I remember your cousins as they stood watching the introduction. I remember the lies you told the clerk behind his counter. He will believe them forever. I see the sky when you look up. I left the past in front of me. I know the aims you seek. I heard the sound of shrieking. I become what you need. I form my arms to separate you from the world. I left all the truths with the other toys in the box. I know silence is serious business. I fell from the ground to a walking man. I gave my crutches to circus performer. I met your mother in the morning. I knew what lusts befall the favored men of the clan. I gave tremendous pittances to the conflicting style of statement. I wonder aloud the things I should say. I know the cat’s eye. There are three things uncountable. There have been four perfect pieces of five. Temperature is the motion of the movable  Rough dogs bare their teeth easily. Finding the key to the lock is the last step home. The sun never moves if you see it but once a day. Once a year. Once a lifetime. She thrills the skin, or the thought of skin. There are no crimes betrayed by evidence. I know the speaking of sighs. I remember the day I met your father. I left the cottage alone. I am followed by bears followed by mules followed by humming birds followed by Triffids. I think I left the pen beside the paper. I know the lives of terrible people. I know the glory of the golden eyed. I tense with the memories. I forget to forget. I need no tattoos to know the depth of the questions before me. I met you sister outside her home. Leveling the sand will begin well the path. There are dark eyes in bright spaces. Suddenly, the same thing occurs as predicted. Sadly I rejoice. I wish the show would end within minutes of our arrival. I react poorly to it all. I keep mostly cool in the heat of their presence. I hear them singing, singing, singing. It is happening to you. The town closed over in walls.  In caves of glass and plastic. We are going to drown here. The waves will not slow. There is no high ground on the ocean. The ocean has come. I met your sister’s sister in a far flung novel. I knew the knowledge of you would change everything. I left the truth in my tool belt. I’m naked but for the rhyming smile. I know the fish you caught found you first. I forget the ways of humans. I found the ball far off on the lawn. It ran from me because it is round like the world. Together the falling. Separate the brake. The cultivation is endearing. I’m growing toward death. I find you disconcerting. It is not a special condition. I know the world through the sole of my shoes. The laces tighten with my smile. Hello, don’t trip. I will help you. I am gone. I have left for the coast. You have come with me. The trees are different if you are a tree. I will leave no children and no name. I cannot despair. I am leaving behind the truth with the map of/to our home. I've buried a key beneath the agreed upon spot. There are words for this. You must know how it happened. I never saw it coming. I can only see it all going away, down the memory hole, the well of faces. I threw the orange at the wrong angle. As it rolled away, she said it doesn't matter, we don’t eat the outside. I assume you read English. I met your mother before mine.

Want your mother to be my mother. Want your father to be my father. Want your brother as my sister. Want my father to be your mother. Remember your cousins as they stood watching the introduction. Remember the lies you told the clerk behind his counter. He will believe them forever. See the sky when you look up. Left the past in front of me. Know the aims you seek. Heard the sound of shrieking. Become what you need. Form my arms to separate you from the world. Left all the truths with the other toys in the box. Know silence is serious business. Fell from the ground to a walking man. Gave my crutches to circus performer. Met your mother in the morning. Knew what lusts befall the favored men of the clan. Gave tremendous pittances to the conflicting style of statement. Wonder aloud the things should say. Know the cat’s eye. There are three things uncountable. There have been four perfect pieces of five. Temperature is the motion of the movable  rough dogs bare their teeth easily. Finding the key to the lock is the last step home. The sun never moves if you see it but once a day. Once a year. Once a lifetime. She thrills the skin, or the thought of skin. There are no crimes betrayed by evidence. Know the speaking of sighs. Remember the day met your father. Left the cottage alone. Am followed by bears followed by mules followed by humming birds followed by triffids. Think left the pen beside the paper. Know the lives of terrible people. Know the glory of the golden eyed. Tense with the memories. Forget to forget. Need no tattoos to know the depth of the questions before me. Met you sister outside her home. Leveling the sand will begin well the path. There are dark eyes in bright spaces. Suddenly, the same thing occurs as predicted. Sadly rejoice. Wish the show would end within minutes of our arrival. React poorly to it all. Keep mostly cool in the heat of their presence. Hear them singing, singing, singing. It is happening to you. The town closed over in walls.  In caves of glass and plastic. We are going to drown here. The waves will not slow. There is no high ground on the ocean. The ocean has come. Met your sister’s sister in a far flung novel. Knew the knowledge of you would change everything. Left the truth in my tool belt. I’m naked but for the rhyming smile. Know the fish you caught found you first. Forget the ways of humans. Found the ball far off on the lawn. It ran from me because it is round like the world. Together the falling. Separate the brake. The cultivation is endearing. I’m growing toward death. Find you disconcerting. It is not a special condition. Know the world through the sole of my shoes. The laces tighten with my smile. Hello, don’t trip. Will help you. Am gone. Have left for the coast. You have come with me. The trees are different if you are a tree. Will leave no children and no name. Cannot despair. Am leaving behind the truth with the map of/to our home. I've buried a key beneath the agreed upon spot. There are words for this. You must know how it happened. Never saw it coming. Can only see it all going away, down the memory hole, the well of faces. Threw the orange at the wrong angle. As it rolled away, she said it doesn't matter, we don’t eat the outside. Assume you read english. Met your mother before mine.

want your mother to be my mother want your father to be my father want your brother as my sister want my father to be your mother remember your cousins as they stood watching the introduction remember the lies you told the clerk behind his counter he will believe them forever see the sky when you look up left the past in front of me know the aims you seek heard the sound of shrieking become what you need form my arms to separate you from the world left all the truths with the other toys in the box know silence is serious business fell from the ground to a walking man gave my crutches to circus performer met your mother in the morning knew what lusts befall the favored men of the clan gave tremendous pittances to the conflicting style of statement wonder aloud the things should say know the cat’s eye there are three things uncountable there have been four perfect pieces of five temperature is the motion of the movable  rough dogs bare their teeth easily finding the key to the lock is the last step home the sun never moves if you see it but once a day once a year once a lifetime she thrills the skin, or the thought of skin there are no crimes betrayed by evidence know the speaking of sighs remember the day met your father left the cottage alone am followed by bears followed by mules followed by humming birds followed by triffids think left the pen beside the paper know the lives of terrible people know the glory of the golden eyed tense with the memories forget to forget need no tattoos to know the depth of the questions before me met you sister outside her home leveling the sand will begin well the path there are dark eyes in bright spaces suddenly, the same thing occurs as predicted sadly rejoice wish the show would end within minutes of our arrival react poorly to it all keep mostly cool in the heat of their presence hear them singing, singing, singing it is happening to you the town closed over in walls  in caves of glass and plastic we are going to drown here the waves will not slow there is no high ground on the ocean the ocean has come met your sister’s sister in a far flung novel knew the knowledge of you would change everything left the truth in my tool belt i’m naked but for the rhyming smile know the fish you caught found you first forget the ways of humans found the ball far off on the lawn it ran from me because it is round like the world together the falling separate the brake the cultivation is endearing i’m growing toward death find you disconcerting it is not a special condition know the world through the sole of my shoes the laces tighten with my smile hello, don’t trip will help you am gone have left for the coast you have come with me the trees are different if you are a tree will leave no children and no name cannot despair am leaving behind the truth with the map of/to our home i've buried a key beneath the agreed upon spot there are words for this you must know how it happened never saw it coming can only see it all going away, down the memory hole, the well of faces threw the orange at the wrong angle as it rolled away, she said it doesn't matter, we don’t eat the outside assume you read english met your mother before mine

wantyourmothertobemymotherwantyourfathertobemyfatherwantyourbrotherasmysisterwantmyfathertobeyour
motherrememberyourcousinsastheystoodwatchingtheintroductionremembertheliesyoutoldtheclerkbehindhisco
unterhewillbelievethemforeverseetheskywhenyoulookupleftthepastinfrontofmeknowtheaimsyouseekheardthes
oundofshriekingbecomewhatyouneedformmyarmstoseparateyoufromtheworldleftallthetruthswiththeothertoysi
ntheboxknowsilenceisseriousbusinessfellfromthegroundtoawalkingmangavemycrutchestocircusperformermety
ourmotherinthemorningknewwhatlustsbefallthefavoredmenoftheclangavetremendouspittancestotheconflictingst
yleofstatementwonderaloudthethingsshouldsayknowthecat’seyetherearethreethingsuncountabletherehavebeen
fourperfectpiecesoffivetemperatureisthemotionofthemovableroughdogsbaretheirteetheasilyfindingthekeytothel
ockisthelaststephomethesunnevermovesifyouseeitbutonceadayonceayearoncealifetimeshethrillstheskin,ortheth
oughtofskintherearenocrimesbetrayedbyevidenceknowthespeakingofsighsrememberthedaymetyourfatherleftth
ecottagealoneamfollowedbybearsfollowedbymulesfollowedbyhummingbirdsfollowedbytriffidsthinkleftthepenb
esidethepaperknowthelivesofterriblepeopleknowthegloryofthegoldeneyedtensewiththememoriesforgettoforget
neednotattoostoknowthedepthofthequestionsbeforememetyousisteroutsideherhomelevelingthesandwillbeginw
ellthepaththerearedarkeyesinbrightspacessuddenly,thesamethingoccursaspredictedsadlyrejoicewishtheshoww
ouldendwithinminutesofourarrivalreactpoorlytoitallkeepmostlycoolintheheatoftheirpresencehearthemsinging,sin
ging,singingitishappeningtoyouthetownclosedoverinwallsincavesofglassandplasticwearegoingtodrownherethew
aveswillnotslowthereisnohighgroundontheoceantheoceanhascomemetyoursister’ssisterinafarflungnovelknewth
eknowledgeofyouwouldchangeeverythingleftthetruthinmytoolbelti’mnakedbutfortherhymingsmileknowthefishy
oucaughtfoundyoufirstforgetthewaysofhumansfoundtheballfaroffonthelawnitranfrommebecauseitisroundlikethe
worldtogetherthefallingseparatethebrakethecultivationisendearingi’mgrowingtowarddeathfindyoudisconcerting
itisnotaspecialconditionknowtheworldthroughthesoleofmyshoesthelacestightenwithmysmilehello,don’ttripwillh
elpyouamgonehaveleftforthecoastyouhavecomewithmethetreesaredifferentifyouareatreewillleavenochildrenan
dnonamecannotdespairamleavingbehindthetruthwiththemapof/toourhomei'veburiedakeybeneaththeagreedupo
nspottherearewordsforthisyoumustknowhowithappenedneversawitcomingcanonlyseeitallgoingaway,downthe
memoryhole,thewelloffacesthrewtheorangeatthewrongangleasitrolledaway,shesaiditdoesn'tmatter,wedon’teatt
heoutsideassumeyoureadenglishmetyourmotherbeforemine

Stasis Cracking

Stasis cracking,

where folded again and again,

the material thins...

The Gilderman spots drops of overmuch moisture on the wing

as the nose is pulled downward by mirthful gravity,

the Earth calls for a kiss.

The formless dark of the future looms as a mountain

and may not be topped.

Appears a conceptualized barrier of grasping gnarls,

the lingering fears like February’s bare branches,

the last dormant sticks stretch to scratch at his feet.

Willing the next mountain be topped.

Eyes bright before find less to see

it seems, but only as they can perceive,

as visions fail in the west must follow around to be lost in the sea,

as our candles gutter in boiling tanks of radioactive seawater.

We have left our legacy behind.

We’ve self incriminated as careless shadows barred in pinstripes,

thugs of apes, hairless and flipping off

the mountain tops, jagged and roped with dead adventurists.

The midnight clocks stop as we defy Time

and defile our original rhythms,

extending the darkness, and blacker lies than

Light defeats Night.

And every day there are more faces where they shouldn’t be,

expressive phantoms smiling strange,

winking at this sanity.

with mimi we in tone

just make it stop

for god’s sake, don’t cut anymore

leave me beside the battlefield

don’t wonder

just let me piss in this pot and be done