ecstasy

i want to be on you

scraping secretly across

as a bow, low on bone

long and jagged

like drunk teeth

on aluminum jaw

absorbed

 

i want to be on you

in the south face

of surrender

rootless trader

on the silk road

of salvation

where the moon drips

below the violet ocean

 

i want to be on you

walking sheath

unscripted and saintly

bridged in every

boundless suspension

of the wreath

 

i want to be on you

creeping into crevice

and digging gently beyond

the surface

and then violent

overwhelmed against you

in the return

mad gnaw of sail

across crescent sun

 

i want to be on you

ripping grains against

foolish sheets of wind

panicked into perspective

where we are reminded

of our erosion

 

and when night

recalls my lips

bellows for my breath

i want to be in you

chiseled into submission

like the selfish sun

hiding in its happiness

with my open eyes

you cannot draw a straight line i know this because i have tried when i locked myself in my room with the metal stool propped beneath the doorknob at an angle drastic in the sun artificial even though i was alone in the apartment trying to draw a straight line pulled out the pad of paper from the steelcase drawer and began after four hundred eight lines i pulled out my microscope from the middle closet shelf and began to examine the straightest of my lines described on the page the shortest objective on the nosepiece thought it did oblige the middle objective was still of little use but after a final twist on the nosepiece  the largest objective granted results and i saw the problem the pencil line was too thick and bled too much and the line looked as jagged as the dirt my father raked on saturday mornings sometimes i helped gather the rocks and put them in my fossil box i bought with my allowance from the whiskey creek restaurant gift shop in bishop on our morning way home from a weeks fishing trip at convict lake and i immediately took the stool from beneath the door and walked outside into the sun and down the street seven blocks and when i reached the liquor store i asked the cashier where his thinnest pencil was but his answer was clumsy and i really did not want to take his only pencil so i scoured the store shelves to find no luck to myself and so i walked down to the grocery store three more blocks down the road and once inside i asked the bagging lady where her writing utensils were located and she pointed me to aisle four when i found nineteen different pencils but i realized i did not have my microscope to examine the fineness so i found the aisle where the grocery store houses the hand mirrors that my mother uses to apply makeup in the morning and in the car on the road to the restaurants at night and before my father comes home and held each pencil package up to the mirror but all appeared to be too thick and knew that none would suffice for depleting the jagged edge that haunts me still to this day and i began walking home despondently until i looked at the yellow button on my cowboy shirt it stood out because all the others were translucent and i remembered the needle and thread my mother gave me so i could sew a new button on because i wanted to do it myself when the old one fell off in an epic battle of cowboys and indians i was a cowboy obviously but i didnt win the battle this time because i was too hasty in my maneuvers and the indian took his spear to my liver and i slowly bled to death in the backyard next to the haystack and i really pretended to die like they do in the movies and when i closed my eyes i looked for heaven and the darkness slowly started to turn red because i was staring at the sun and then i took my hands to my eyes and pressed them hard against because i forgot i was dead and the inside of my eyes turned to bright blue again like the sky but when i turned my head where i knew the haystack was it was still blue so i knew my eyes were closed and i wasnt dead and when i opened my eyes everything was bright enough to be my birthday the first one when i was born that day when everything was bright and shiny and new and not the dull colors in my parents apartment because when i get older i will never paint the walls browns and borings i will paint them reds and blues like the colors of my eyes and i rushed home to affect the paper with the needle but after running the needle into the yellow paper with green lines perpendicular i inspected the line closely but found again the line was jagged just as before so i began stabbing the pencil into the paper out of frustration because i had run out of options to make a straight line but the stabbing gradually eased to very light and when i poked the needle in the paper ever so slightly a single dot formed that could barely be seen so i put the paper in the stage clips and investigated because that is what the scientists are doing when they look into space because they are actually looking at the pencil poke in the universe or looking for it where the male plug is in the female plug like the christmas lights that are not on in my bedroom because they are looking for a straight line too but they do not know that i have looked already and havent found anything but they can keep looking anyway if they want to because when you want to find something you will keep looking everywhere even though you know it is already gone or at least temporarily in hiding because now i am looking for the edge of the circle i drew because they said it hasnt been found yet but i think they are wrong about this one too because they must have stopped drawing straight lines because they have been looking for pencil points in the universe because i just drew a jagged line straight through both sides of the circle three hundred twenty seven times and the circle is practically all filled in with lead and even the outsides are full of lead too because i can see it with my open eyes

the ossuary

broken bone jaw

crushing can clap

her voice

ten thousand barking dogs

damned into the night

cherry jubilee

scratched skin across the wetting floor

red sail of the sun

stared blind and bid farewell

 

obscure is her ocean

cryptic under succession

her endless stars

carried down by horses

and deferred into the tide

my plank division

corroded tip of time

when blue returns to eyes

 

bleak board of particle dust

drop as if nature is being denied

her haunt

in the vibrations

on the doorstop

where her caustic flesh

is found and turning sail

 

return to me

in the void of the array

her captive tongue

rubbing sand for tomorrow

but from this marrow

digest our defiance

 

student of samsara

releasing waves from rock

the borderline

only dreaming of

what it is to take a side

daffodil

            looking at his reflection,

            he vainly said to the face

            in the water, “I love you.”

 

Intermission, or Intersection

boom, the steel-beam cross

drop top hydraulic rock

peculiar prostrate part

drifting in the sea

of swimming metals

through synthetic ruin

jesus christ incarnate

to carry myself

to disallow you

 

Introduction, or Influence

daffodil decadence

dandy in design

the pool we sink in

summer suns

and soak in

recreation

to drink myself

to forget you

 

Internment, or Instrument

concrete calypso

bruised in cement

planted step rhythm

mistake in step

the blood among us

free from apparatus

to see myself

to take you

 

Intermission, or Intersection

splash, the hand in theft

of waters dark

dripping deep the void

our metal yoke bent within

our plastic machinations end

quick the days of light are plucked

for cross-eyed lovers

left, carried off in plight

to leave myself

to echo you

statistical thermodynamics

the air conditioned universe

this lemonade tree of mine

when they are poured

or sparked up

like a simple

cigarette

they melt

for you

to live

behavior

logarithms can be so bleak

but the expedition is implicit

and the ending is surely irrelevant

the beekeeper

the girl with the bee tied around a string was a resident of mobius.

she walked to class carrying her books bound by a leather strap.

when the boy in class sitting next to her asked what the bee’s name was, she let the bee go and said “hah! now you will never know!”

the bee flew out the spring window and began reassigning the pollen.

after school, the boy followed the girl home, trailing her so she could not see.  when they neared her house, the boy ran past swiping at her books and yelled “hah! take that, bee keeper!”

the bundle of books fell to the earth and onto an exhibition of dandelions.  the bee was crushed and the girl was always right.

aether macabre

       to: albert abraham michelson

 

the sun, spilt so drastically

across the sidewalk, concrete

window, the way a shadow creeps

beneath the eyes of a child

the skeletal impression

between the cracks

where are our thoughts suspend

in the doubt of a circle

 

but if i am a circle

then let me bleed out

deep and within

as if the sea has breached

the shore

and speak to me

as a brother of the night

on the steps of our lotus crypt

and reveal the unrest

 

the gothic sun, setting callow

in the grocery aisle

ribbed in infancy

zenith and scarce

a parking space

hollywood and vine

in the arms of orion

chance leaf in the wind

exposed in her hair

split from definite seam

 

and so i, the sunshine

cast my fervent gape on you

lighten the corners and smile

and for you

for it is in you

in your barbaric gold

from my augment

the naked eye

to bend the space unseen

in tandem and rise

coalescence unbound

salvia

the propane vibrations
at my window
and how the chickens run
their heads into the ground
planting droplets
its last breath
a gasping air conditioner
hanging on the sill
just a seed of warmth
all but imbued

that last tic
before collapsing
onto the fiery grill
port swallowed too,
into the mouth of my father
his rotary blades
against the coiled earth
sprouted and salted
with its organic

i eat the oxygen
and i bleed the sky
with the hummingbird
thrusting its breast
in the louche
of the lamb belly

i dont know why i did this, but when there is nothing to do at work….

LOS ANGELES ANGELS SALARY BREAKDOWN
	2008 Salary	Players	% of $	% Players
Outfield	$59,857,500.00	6	58%	24%
Infield	$  7,847,500.00	5	8%	20%
Catchers	$     840,000.00	2	1%	8%
Starting Pitchers	$18,533,333.00	6	18%	24%
Relief Pitchers	$16,333,000.00	6	16%	24%
Total	$103,411,333	25	100%	100%