Rain in LA; Sun in Helsinki

Watching a man cry,
might be as disgusting
as old toothpaste

I'm afraid I have
undone the last
corset strap

Hell is full
of icicles
and heaven is

obscene - no
water, nothing left
but apples and snakes.

Our New Dog

my dog, she wakes me everyday
when I desire to sleep
November morning, burst and brae,
atop the bed she leaps

now I roll-over, pull the sheets
and there she stands and waits,
above my face, she pants, she weeps
she cries out for playmates

"Ok" I say and scratch and yawn
and rise right to my feet,
hops off the bed, as quick as dawn,
she dances with a leap

she follows me, I wash my face
and waits with tail a-wagging,
her eagerness is full of grace,
her groan shows "grace" is nagging

no stillness but with pedigree,
the leash attached to collar,
she dances there impatiently
awaiting morning's holler

and as we step outside to walk,
the sprinklers yet to sprinkle
she pulls me while the front-door locks,
it's clear she has to tinkle,

now this is nothing new, you know,
she does this everyday
like taxes, death or undertow
even bills to pay,

It's clockwork that dependable
on daylight savings time
my sleep clearly expendable,
when she's made her mind;

now squirming on the morning grass
she walks with steps of grief;
then squatting, done! her morning fun,
her fresco, her relief,

And there I stand, wait idly by
as master makes her work,
the grass was green and so am I,
she looks up with a smirk

her look, it says, "Now pick it up!"
(the smell too strong to stand)
as I unfurl the plastic bag and
scoop it with my hand

and hold my breath, this pile of death
encompassed in a thin plastic,
will smell like body bags procured,
enough to make us all sick;

now clearly I must love this girl
awake at this young hour,
to clean her work and smell the world
long before I shower

We seem to do these selfless things
when no one else is watching;
If God is master and I am dog,
I hope my art's worth walking.

ghostdance

the boat with
no oars
rocks on
morning tide
glass tide
long grassy
fingers slide
along the hull
along the side

mist, steam,
air; wispy
streams of
water's hair
gliding down
the lagoon's side

like the
swamp was
never bare,
never there

a ghostdance
of white nothings
on the lapping lips
of shore, clapping
one two three more

that cave that
can't be seen
above,
her water filled
with mouth, her
roof with hanging
moss like chandeliers
we'd never doubt

that underwater cave
exists despite the
morning light and
even when your
doubt persists
just hold your breath
and fight

fight the need to
breathe again,
you'll never take
a breath, like
morning crows to
sleeping hen, the
sun, the air, has
left.

Hard

At 25, the leaning crouching
slump over my laptop has
turned into a kind a manufacturer

an overwhelming fist-clenching
fighting stance - for freedom,
the poison in the veins

I've become a mouthbreather
a form-feeder; a great destroyer
like Kali, her hand holding my head

the computer is buzzing at me
much louder than it should be,
so I unplug it and type

while it's off, hoping
somehow, that these words
are still hitting the page.

Investment

Let's place the
bet on US, and
let us bet that
we fail

we'll make
money on our
own failure
and then we

we, us, will
be a success;
while you
weren't looking

I turned war
into oil, oil
into food, food
into soilders

poof, alacazzzAM
they are rich
for putting the
money on Goliath

Unfastened

my movements might
be simple, like
a bee or a snowflake

a falling fractal
image of its molecule

I might be the copy
of my DNA, a double
helix sitting in front
of a laptop

my fingers hot from
messages that claim
to be the word

oh Father, oh Bother
thanks for your toil
your concern, it's
noon now, won noon
two three for, four
three two noon won
now Lord

undone, unrun,
slung these puns
to grasp at emblems
of the mind; twine
matches and turpentine

"oh I feel fine.
pour me something
real. something I
can really drink - not
that cheap shit. Somehthing
from underthesink.
I had a long hard
day and I want,
I deserve to,

de
com
press"

(If you're as lost as
I am, why, oh why,
did you invest
your time.)

The Window Shade Has Fallen

disappointment,
that itch geared
and locked in
unsettled cells

a molecular and
metaphysical toil,
our snowglobe spun
like water and oil

but wait, without
a force seen or
stured, our window
shade, caked with dust

falls, unheard; she
lays along the desk
with her cables splayed,
her hooks unclasped