amish swans -eternal return is the heaviest of burdens (tungs)

this car casts no title

lifes a beach

but ya dont die

just always pushing

whales back in the ocean

there dead but doesnt matter

the parks police are coming

and theyll say its disorder

and theyll put you in the heat

oddly smithy

life is

random

i think therefore i

-maybe baby

could have read all the books

in this hole world oh

what difference sudowood it make

if i leapt in - front of a

frying skillet for you

a belch poem

oh aisle never

ever be what eye

supposed to be

weather i believe or disbelief

it is incarnate

having imagined quicksand

too early in life

as a factor

and then missing the after maths

dream dispersal poem #1

artehago:

I’m standing in a street,
it’s a big city
there’re stoops and stairs
on gas mask housing;
lined up in rows

I am looking for you
under the yellow lamplight
falling wetly on the
mashed asphalt;
a degree of danger
sits on me
and I hear lazy laughter
from a sequined white house
window;
a Raquel Welch
2nd story byline

you’re
grass on the carpet
I step through
clouded quicksand
to keep you,
your hand is a soft trolley
pulling away;
I love the amber
lights
talking to me
telling me lies
as I let them leave
it’s a harsh hello
as we zip my trousers

they sell bacon
off balconies
on cantankerous
courts in this
dank and darker
district bistro
bathroom

yesterday
they killed a man
killing a pig
feeding him
so he fell from
the ledge
no one asks,
just pick their parts

I still can’t find you
through this
crystalline curtain
hanging still
in this bathtub apartment
where I’ve lain
too long fingering
the knob on the toilet
waiting for a man
to let me in

the day dies and
I attend the funeral
nothing gets better
in dreams on Sunday
nothing gets done
on the run from the moon
on a mission of dispersal

dissolutions

pencil mans in hand stand stance

breaks dance

posey sposing

that rains a brains drainage

damming

or is he upsides down hanging

from the ceiling

sealing fates

selfie portrait

dont have much left

-in me

but to reblog

and maybe baby

thats just a lye 2

ima rug sometimes youve said

like ima hurricane and love

gets soggy -is so original

im sorry

oh but wholl give two shites

to what we say anyway

aint it funny honey bunny

what words

artehago:

I imagine you wasted
like boulders rolled over
shoulders impressed
white shirt open hands
outspread
men with muskets
blue shirts buttoned
barreled smoking
lives and deaths imposing
red and dead on the floor
making more

artehago:

happy birthday brother

blank poem,

cause I don’t know

all I remember

was that

you sat in the sun

already Steve McQueen

artehago:

starbucks coffee poem

oh romeo

where fort artehago

wooden box be

aperture partitions

there ghosts who ghosts

juliette forgets resets

draws a knife drawers tulips

brainspotting

the ugly beauty

of anything could be

anything

as i remember

minding myself to remember

the space always

always seams the same

like virtual boxes with trees or wall

or with water spillin over

i car crash into yr car crash

or mad dash in to road rash

as fast or as fast