all so meaningless
these vegetables in the grass
rowed and timed

yet for each I am
yet that is All
no lyric, media, culture
is a mechanic of meaning
so part of memory and eye
like the hoard back home

in an upholstered cave
so deep of earth
thinking rock thinking best
while we reckon the stars

is it our way
is it theirs
is a choice real

our time wavescope
the ear its hairs our lines
to the room inside
where silence should rain
then a single lamp to pull

who knew? 
am i so blessed
so damned
last of the naturals
before the exhaust of artifice

a wonder for all genera hence
hence being recorded

x generation 
without name
the all go rhythm
in the old equations
setup within set

last of the last pioneers
willing to die
just to move on

for what

what you call fate
i call script
if this is a program
  a computer, a circuit set it up
in a metal world

between galaxie(s)
  whose dreams are just as
contrived as ours

welcome back stranger
  music is a ladder
to the right
from whats left

forget your lines

old verse (re) found

country poets
scurrying for hurrians
harrapa & their pot frags
for millennia
to build a ladder to the sky
in the heart

above the flames
& the Mass where he is
screened goggled & hunted

we hope to a time of peace
yet model those at war
& tire of the peace between
minoans ma'dan ciccians

narrappans joy in
peace for a 1000 suns
before invasion by the peaceseekers

then to greece
a place of islands
where their mother
the nearest biggest was
left forgotten until nine ten hundred

should i love sophia
it is more of a hunger
a need from inside dark
replacing not someone
and no thing

coming from before
the turn of the chain
residue rendered
pure by lives so much before
they do not happen yet

but circle around my
mouth open to the deep
and nary any food
for a belly

the wounds
the hollows wont protect
neither the words

out on the rock
under the talons
and the heart
yet unharmed

going forward
for the past is green
memory that hurts
and clouds the day

we're alone 
and before

a rough hewn morning
sounding vowels
fleeing from symbols
to cloud the sky

i see mu
everything in the friend
in his dance
following his walks

lighting the projection box
unlocking the cinema

the film unreels
before the light
where is my seat
where do i sit

where is the bulb
this room, a house
the sky

waiting scared for the ambulance
and a trip line

1970 lit a sign for the end of feudal cultism in america
after a brief but continuing enlightening

jim sat in the desert walking from school
zarathustra in the sand where ring tails scurried

an emptiness forced a whisper
i am a lizard's king, i could do anything

to noone
it was hot but he could feel a wind

on a road
under white necked birds of prey

you can carry all kinds of dope
pushed up in a sax

heat rose from the crushed rock road
where his fallen eyes dwindled into tiny holes
as my love exclaimed their exit

from a cinema shattering that morning
its film of our shared past & miracle friendship
with a script we could not frame otherwise

sitting alone now
pushing letters for empty books
whose reading does us little
and critique likely more

two lives ended that last night
begun with rum and wine
between islands of curved ecstasy
through morning pools of hue and hymn

until without stop
our morning’s boat roared 
toward a beach never reached

in a film these actors drew
of character against resignation,
ending in battle and joy
our unfailing strength

yet venture had not failed us
its loud heroism and finale
in flight, spinning and cheers
toward a call never forgotten

seated alone again
this master for a shelf
and reels never read

where there is no good night
for a fight that was good
i will not rest & do not sit
despite the dying
ever running for the light 

all the characters in & with,
faces and canals
my lungs, entrails &
hilly wrinkles above

my ears feeling waves
lens hair ankles
brushing earth
breast stirring wood
sphinx nosing over the nails

what a wonder
what a wish
bathing this spine
each night on stage
before the counters