- Dead Dogs Two
From the height of the highway onramp
We saw two dogs, dead in a field
Glowing on the Oakland Coliseum
Green seats wasteland
Dogs, dogs we thought were dead
They rose up, rose up when whistled at
Their rib cage inflating
Like men on the beach being photographed
- Rhymer's Only Room
Rhymer's only room;
Cincinnati lone lie tomb.
Hiding under the ceiling over a cold skull winter bed spread.
Rhymer's only room;
Sweet smelling walk into cartoon.
Hiding in the seaweed on the sea bed breath bloating welter weight land legs.
Rhymer's only room;
still sugar man to the high school crew.
- Rifle Eyes
a murder of mosquitoes, and moths, and gnats
ravage the florescent flickering ribs of a motel lot flood light.
their frantic trajectories perfectly sketching insane in it’s halogen corona.
no collision... no drinking of bulbs at long last...
just a panicked moon drove dance they bang their insect eyes and mind at in the dark.
note: it takes an extended stay
America’s common black self cleaning line of ants
- Son of a Gun
Dying men keep rifles in cello cases,
known with a beer as the deer eraser.
They dress their boys in bright orange
and leave their daughters at home,
stripping meat, stretching skin for their musical men.
The makers of guns will never go hungry.
The makers of guns will never fill up.
- The Keen Teen Skip
I'm sick of keen eyed teens keying
car doors in the middle of the night.
They won't believe their donning dangling carrot cams.
Youngsters today are not prepared
to buy plants or collect stamps.
They won't believe their wearing lead lined pants,
keeping them inert like just a carrot can't,
aging in the space between two magnets face to face.
- The Sound of a Handshake
'everything on top, just gravy!!'
harry fox and his mechanicals bag
telegraphs the statutory rate
p.a. you contract tag.
who knew that harry who? had it for you?!!
'we've never heard a word but