a complete fiction

I do
___ care
I do ___ care
I did once
eye nose eye dead
I so do ___ care

luck of luck

sat with long words
-not his
sifted footholds hung
in a balance

the same sea it also
always hung in balance

but she had left words
behind and backwards
what was the matter

a curious man with withoutness

I’ve lost, I’ve lost I’ve lost
I’ve lost
I lost, I’ve lost
what cost, what cost what cost
I’ve lost, I’ve lost I lost

blood goon

my battery is dying
it’s crying
it’s fats away
horatio, it’s dying

mercury slew venus
and mars stewed mercury
earth doing her best
intercepted a digression call
her moon falling

where for art thou, oh moon
you died too soon, poor june

trojan moon

I could build a
high in a sky
when you smile
a mile long
and make a mad dash
to turn the southern
to look at you
when you do

an artehago

my hands r upturnd sorrows
dinosores in wilderdnesses
vaander vith me and sknees
shallow hallows of gills
on flat plains
possum turnings, these r yearnings

pro commotion

we take missteps
to filter a perception
to break a train of
thoughts in turnstiles
symbols on a tambourine
talking deliberate
terminal positions

anti poems man, step it up!

I googled anti poem
and found a pound
of doom-ed dust
rust bones
of bad pomes
without a home
pregnant and disgruntled
ambling bowleggedly

who’ll bathe them
who’ll save them

David Bowie-Drive-In Saturday (1973)

let me put my arms around your head

gee, it’s hot, let’s go to bed

-Don’t forget to turn on the light

-Don’t laugh babe, it’ll be alright

pour me out another phone

I’ll ring and see if your friends are home

-Perhaps the strange ones in the dome

-Can lend us a book we can read up alone

And try to get it on like once before

-When people stared in jagger’s eyes and scored

Like the video films we saw

His name was always buddy 

And he’d shrug and ask to stay

She’d sigh like twig the wonder kid 

And turn her face away

She’s uncertain if she likes him 

But she knows she really loves him

-It’s a crash course for the ravers 

-It’s a drive-in saturday

Jung the foreman prayed at work 

Neither hands nor limbs would burst

-It’s hard enough to keep formation

-with this fall out saturation

cursing at the astronette

who stands in steel by his cabinet

-He’s crashing out with sylvian

-The bureau supply for ageing men

With snorting head he gazes to the shore

-where once had raged a sea that raged no more

Like the video films we saw

broom, broom, broom

we were brooms
bereft of banter