electric evangelist

electric evangelist
sending paper airplanes on sparks and wires
you’re on the
same side of a different coin
a flip that gravity claims
you call heads
as it thuds
in the mud
slung
fat jackal
irrational practical
you should try to have the unshakable faith
of a paranoid hypochondriac
and the tongue of Jack Kerouac
you fidget with the truth
if you ever knew it
yeah,
you blew it
 
your charisma ecstatic static
burns down chapels
makes man wanna eat
the apple
your plague of fumes
they fucking arc
art paints your christ
with a trademark
but you send the charge
that flashes blind
the corroding terminals
of all mankind
lied
and what a shock
nobody waits
nobody rises
no body waves like the starr’ed flag in the sky
we commune
in grounded gavels
electric evangelist
please arise.
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Published in: on May 28, 2011 at 2:13 am  Leave a Comment  
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Chew it Slow

We’ve all got a lot on our plate

Typical American gluttony

Swallowing time like cheeseburgers

Every serving, a heap too big

To go right back and fill it up again

Shovel it in.

Go here, do that, volunteer, cheer, soccer, career

We can’t afford to sip the drive-thru latte slow

GO!

“Serve us seconds of wind so we can go again, again again.”

It’s the 5k we’ll never win,

(someone forgot to tell us there is no end)

Viagra, super-size me peckers,

4 hour erectors,

it ain’t no good ‘less it’s a marathon

Unwanted commitments are stacked buffet high,

and washed down with half-assed accolades.

We’ve all bitten off more than we can chew,

and we will choke on the ambition.

Me? I want to relish each taste of each minute

slowly quenching my soul;

every morsel of every millisecond dissolving on my tongue.

I want to feel the wind blow through my hair

and pause long enough to ponder what it means.

If you can’t taste it, you’ll never be satisfied

If you can’t pace it, you’ll never savor life

If you run the rat race,

at the end, you will find

somebody moved your cheese.

Published in: on May 24, 2011 at 10:49 pm  Leave a Comment  
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Geriatress

my grizzly bones
bound in this thick pulp
lumbering, laboring through this mill
grinding, shaving down
paper thin
remold, reshape me
into something useful
I am no sequoia
reconstituted
but a disposable particle, bored
reincarnated, someday
to something useful
my timber gone
a missing tooth in groves, green
my grizzly bones
bound in this pulp
bound in bark
withered
disintegrating
pecked
my canopy, sun-baked
dry
leafless
and ready for the first cut
Published in: on May 24, 2011 at 10:38 pm  Leave a Comment  
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The Present

There’s no time like the present
the present is a gift
it’s the gift that keeps on giving
the gift is living
open it up
play with it
until it bores you
’cause tomorrow there’s more for you
keep breathing and there’s more in store for you

Published in: on May 24, 2011 at 10:33 pm  Comments (2)  
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He Loves Me Knot

All I have left is love and shoe strings

Shoe strings make for a great noose

Published in: on May 17, 2011 at 11:26 pm  Leave a Comment  
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Well Kept

I will keep my mouth closed
so that when I finally open it to speak
my breath will be warm
and not cold and bitter

I will keep my mind open
so that when I finally share it
it will be free
and not merely bound by my own perception

I will keep my heart open
so that when it finally feels
it will have braved the worst
and be ready to discern real love

I will keep my legs closed
so that when I finally fuck
my depths will be clean
and unchapped

I will keep my hand open
so that it may give freely
and take without asking
and slap when I am solicited by the one
whose legs and mouth are open
and heart and mind are closed.
Warm words do not work for those.

Published in: on May 10, 2011 at 11:22 pm  Leave a Comment  
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Your Muffled Mistress

I’m a bright bulb wrapped in a wet blanket
a cherry in the pickle jar
a rainbow in the smog
       
I’m a map in a snowdrift
a whisper at the club
pearls on a hog
    
and should you want this heart of mine
all pickled in lime tinted brine
just prick me with the rusty tine
and slice into the core
         
I’m a watch that won’t give you time
a punch with a hook, but not a line
a suicidal valentine
a church dress on a whore
Published in: on May 9, 2011 at 11:42 pm  Leave a Comment  
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