you make the mistakes

that your parents made
you make them all even when you know them
the shit in the way is always ready
to be stepped in
find the realtime on a keyboard that lags
Lag away you hag
you old woman who's jaw moves more then is should
and can;t cut her toe nails
because of there chalkboard fetishism
girl wants nothing more than love
but it's been distorted into shapes
that hate self
and forty pounds

you are a sweet sad thing
a thing
not a man
but a thing
an object

an outside thing

hearts beat four drums
alchemy on internal
passions' fruit
stop the salad
and the good eats
stop the taco bell
stop the felling sick
stop the hell
stop the graceless worries of
life. of l eye F

of life

my mind

Whats my probelm. I can open up
tonight. I need to forget what I thought I knew about
writing and let it all haaang out.
shalng wang fang out.
skylights twilight.
tonight I fight a sleeping droned quiet.
fright fight sight...
kite?

in the sky like a dancing carousel.
a simple relationship between wind and plastic pulled across wood or
more plastic. and string
must have string.

I would attach onethousand and sixfourthee nine kites to a lamp post
to the top, so that the string and your line of sight would align.

My queen. My lesbian queen. the white and black haired queen.

just outside your office.

just outside your reach.

just outside the window and the phonelines and the cloads

I would dunk the kites in vats of colors
to paint the air and the planes and the breeze
the gasoline and the sound of eves
the drip drang drumble in your face
and it would paint your makeup right off
it would make us all the same

just like my ancestors, I will make us all the same.

so come outside my queen
and see what a colorful world it will be.

Ode to the Present

Ayn Rand.
Talk to me from your grave.
tell me why we are. how you
lit a fire of pages
you are nothing but a referent
a placeholder for young white educated
menboys
to shed light on a lite version of
the present
I want your calorie-free
present.
let me shrug my problems off.
smile with me girl.

free me from tomorrow. I mean.
It's only a day away. Right Ms.

Hot chip salt
covered cakes
sings a glass-bowled ring

wait. I got an idea that might be gone.

Singing bowls are something more then they aren't.
They define the sound they are making in two ways.
in two ways.

but I can;t remember what I just forgot
and thought I knew I could tie in

now Aynie girl. Your not alone.
Just sing with your other girls
in the orphanage. I mean we all know
that you are just on stage. but we still
feel for you. and your devote Broadway
of worship.

Mexican to Market

We are the Mexican to Market
the ones who stand in the strip malls in the morning
waiting for work
the ones witht the sideburns who talk talk
when they bring the water at a restruant
cold sliver cubes
we are the ones who jump when you say
higher
hire me for the day or by the hour
hire a man who needs work before a shower
smell the day on me the way
you cry
when you see my face, think about it
before the morning
mourning a land that was ours
looking out into a place that is foreign
little boxes on the hillside
little boxes made of nothing
and they all look the same.

We went to the University of breaking our backs for you
we went to the school of bleeding our children for you.
we went fast, and far, and close and cold and alone
for you.
for U
4 U
$

March, Wall Pee Up

sun, no water, rocks
red rocks, grass and mud and rocks,
no rain, no water
sun's sun heat rays
short eyes long days
say son what gaze
my way.
sheeping
soles the shoes
souls the cups
cold, but no water.
daughter. Sun.