07 July 2014

Tokyo Drifter

I see you're really going.
Patchwork shadows in the long goodbye suffuse
Bluely. An elder
Enters and places a phone call from behind slats,
Bars, where a woman waits.
Your first trip. I'll write a wire.
Already, too soon,
I'll phone later from under the scary tree.
Windows frame the longing looks.
Old men tend to at first give sage advice
Lending the later betrayal
More bitter
Under the blood-red cat's eye moon.
Take care, Tokyo man.
In the yellow bar are low voices
And people getting ready under advertisements
In narrow back rooms.
Help us.
The entertainment is about to begin.
The anxious questions get asked and nearly missed.
From under the gun.
From under the yellow shadows
A song descends the stairs.
Blue songs smoke the snowy train.
Trouble over a new territory?
I came to a bad place.
Dishes break but don't feel
You have to help us.
Incense burns
And Tokyo men have come and more are coming
Though fires burning in the snow.
Pipe down,
We have a guest.
We have a hotel with a red lantern
Managing fine without help,
The silent bridge drooped in shadow in the deep drifts.
You will warm yourself and your torn blue suit
By the wood-burning stove.
A man who looks like you will wish you in hell.
You will come to a clean white place
And you will move on.

03 July 2014

Nicotine Love

Queen love the bird brigade. Shadows mount
The love. I bring confused bards to the table
And mount a showtime stunner of weakly epic

Prepositions like a blind seer in a wrong migration.
In a car a ride goes inland to the blue hiccup,
An empire seeding itself among itself.

Nicotine speeds the patterns into a pitch of pitch
Smeared all over the dethroned queen. That love
Is a lie is a shadow steered into fashion

And who knows what the truth is. I'm just
Another mouth at the table, full of the moths
Of the month speeding to its blue conclusion.

18 June 2014


TV bubble issues forth in froth.
Electronic means target the useless surf

In which I await death.
In one form or another,

Basking in the precision coma,
I verify my passcodes

By means of decades of loose data.
All this breathing

Has gotten me here, one upload away
From some TV-ready dissolving

In reams of zeros.

31 May 2014

Wrecked and Missing

For a long time you are trying to get home.
The cold is a real thing, with complex dimensions.

To describe it is a fool's errand, but it's possible
The world is full only of fools on errands,

What else but the wrecked and the missing.
The night sits heavy like a busted husk of truck.

When the night falls it just keeps falling.
You chop at the wood but the wood just gets smaller.

26 May 2014


In an autonomous community
Drift through that which the sea birds circle.
Better to sail with a moody good captain
They say before they die
And everyone else dies.
Exactly who has which authority
Makes bubbles rise in the local grog.
Chiming with harpoons,
Administrative limits
Are a sad fact of limited life.
The sad facts of life
Expound exponentially
In all manner of rich language.
Bird sleep is the sea deepest
And is flying in less than an instant.
In Barcelona all the castles are made of bone.
Brochures between the lines
Make you aware of certain facts.