He was told to cover his head

He was told to cover his head

Strange things would fall out of the sky
First it was frogs
Then a slew of bullhead
Gasping and whiskers flapping
Then mudpuppies
Plastic buttons
Thimbles
Jacks
Corks
Feathers
Chicken wings
Olives
The golf balls were quite dangerous
He had to dodge then as he ran from the office to his car
What killed him were the refrigerators

The button and the knot

The button and the knot

Tread upon
The desire to form an action
Words of the high one
They seem like babble
The stones of the tower
Rock and fall
As you reboot the system
The roots of turn
Words cannot contain
The meanings of the sounds
Influencing the feel
Ergonomic slit
The little girl drones on and on
About her fabulous pussy
She is convinced that it was meant for god
I tell her thirty bucks is thirty bucks
She said that I always remind her of god

fire hardened points

Fire hardened points


Carved into the wise
Look up and see
The stars
They are gone
But, still we see
A heavy pathos
Without revolution
Every stacked exodus
Needs more
Fabled and flea
The ankles together
Dead away blown
The shore, the horizon
They blend into one
You see it all
Like in a vision
Butchered
Bones bare in the sun
Thread of song
Daily bleed
Aristotle’s lament
Distended heart
Nowhere to turn
Stopped my ears
From hearing the truth
Today, you made an enemy

fifty black birds

Fifty Blackbirds

I saw it crack open
And out flew fifty blackbirds
They fluttered about and cawed
Threatened looks for the others
I counted each one
And gave each a name
It is my way, claiming power
Over nature and nurture
And all things in between
They asked me if I’ve seen any cats
Knew of my conversations
With a mean spirited tabby
Who was hell bent on destruction
And finding the new life
Beyond the pale moonlight

down

Down

Down to the ground,
ask for fifty cents,
pretty, pretty maids,
they found your gun.
Shady looking loser,
as clear as the sun,
caught in a landslide,
no escape from me.
On a downtown street,
got it some more,
get out of the way,
broken down angel.
Bring it down,
back to the beginning,
shadows did fall,
all around us.
My punk rock date,
she’s a little gothic,
with fork and spoon,
ready with the needle.
Round she spins,
in her chair,
nothing’s ever wrong,
shush don’t speak.
Just you shut your mouth,
put it in the middle,
piercing the skin,
a little trickle.
I mean tickle,
one wonderful ride,
beyond your illusions,
past your foolish pride.
You are my last cry,
more than I can take,
hollowed out motives,
running through my head.
My arms extended,
chest puffed out,
see beyond my blindness,
hear only a shout.
Into a fine dust,
you are beaten down,
cornmeal of desire,
flavored with a little salt.

Dashboard Jesus

Dashboard Jesus

Your dashboard Jesus swims in contempt,
flexing forward with a revealing smile,
with that sick look of obsession.
He lifts his finger and points,
at the twenty-one gun salute,
a gift for the ballerina.
She has loved him since she was a little girl,
back in grammar school when she found him naked,
sitting on a park bench reading the Sunday paper.
Her looks at her with swollen eyes,
and a tongue that darts and slithers,
he runs it along the instate line.
He shows her his scars,
the spear, hammer, and nails,
exhibits for the traveling show.
Nightly there are miracles,
better than the primetime lineup,
more effective than lobotomy.
He thinks about his checkered past,
his time in Hell and the cold grave,
the nightlife surrendered for respectability.
He reminds her that he died for her,
to free her from her endorphins,
his gift is freedom from your addictions.

broken out paddy blues

Broken Out Paddy Blues

so much fury and power
blundering and fumbling
veering wildly into traffic
sucking in the world
passing by faces
drops on the skin
disturbed by the air
followed by silence
a captured piece
adamantly inclined
to be held and touched
she wants it more than glory
trades her inner fire
ways to rationalize
the beans into trees
a once claimed dance
obvious frayed edge
never could see the shape
coming around the corner
the dart flies to its mark
we watch and ponder
random consequences
boxers as trees
waiting for the fall
the axe against the trunk
grave questions ignored
my lifeless foyer
swept clean by digression
loose putrid dreams
a small wonder of august
this humbled place
jet freed dance
tying up the years

© 2009 Deep Piercing Cut

the prime method

The prime method

bellow beyond
taken to a measure
the rocket’s glare
smoky eyes
and old lungs
wave good-bye to random
grave bewildered ochre
shaken to the ramparts
the beleaguered simplicity
simple solid bonds
bound to us
mostly forgotten tendrils
they wither and age
my transgressions count
like the prodigal son
as the lead poisons your mind
above the broken silence
the fatted calf
tastes so good
like a god with reflective shades
I can’t see your eyes
but I know you have been crying
a bare unfortunate grace
the smell of truth
opens my eyes
it always does
every time
I once was a titan
a bringer of fear and hate
now I see through dim watery eyes
red with the butcher’s intent
and my forgiveness
I make
just like my past and future
I have harvested the fullness of Saturn
dreamed into august lives
a conceived swagger
centered lines of being
back to the beginning
when you wrote about love
and shared the treasures of your life
a drawn blue solution
the conversion of penetration

© Deep Piercing Cut

two charms in my pocket

Two Charms in my pocket

should be so much more
tied up like a canal
just after five
in the afternoon
sun striking cinders
turns them white hot
just like a fix
lay down and cover my eyes
see a vision pull away
holding back the green walls
from time to time they cross
just talking outside
with their few minutes
a burst of sudden silence
unsure of who I am
where I’m at
half-gouged wall
it has something written on it
I crawl a little closer
remember it says
rigid jutting corpse
smiles and points the way
Narcissus at his horror
perception empties it’s contents
into a small wooden box
the evening temperance falls
down the stairs squealing
kicking the base of the skull
one virtue after another
leave me
like a whore with my money

© Deep Piercing Cut

come down from your tree

Come Down From Your Tree

no homeward spiral
imagine the Mississippi
the laughing woman
of lollapalooza
tripping back
down drunken hallways
an inarticulate mass
seeing reality
as you want it to be
past poodles and broken lives
they pool together
like dead flies in a windowsill
love songs and sad scenes
the dreams of farmer’s daughters
few and far between
the legs of promiscuity
they clack like iron wheels
muscles than never relax
they hold you in like a pasture
fields of erotic dreams
taste the tender calf
boiled in it’s mother’s milk
there is no disputing the facts
we can plug you into the machine
suck out your inequalities
make you whole again
the all-American boy once more
all we hear is the orange laughter
of a warm moist place
atomic screams in Dolby double digital
you waiting for the painted future
finding heaven in your eyes

© Deep Piercing Cut