Angry two stroke mobs marauding in unlit corridors dust eventually settled but the shadows remained nameless he hid until he saw the coast was clear the horizon alight a vintage t bird and a Mercedes suv left in the two car garage , how would he mow the grass get a game of golf lost in a hopeless

Ending seemed like the perfect new beginning 

Purple morning sunrise crests the top of the Montauk Dunes clubhouse. The air is silent and the surrounding area littered with decay of civilization. It had been a week since the event. No animate life seemed to stir. Protagonist sealed in a wine cellar. 

Survivors? Few? How did they happen to be malicious 

Where did the odor emanate from

Systems

The last lap 

Military upbringing 

Firing and 

Factoring the imposition

dobro control

Emanating a cyclic

Blob field of you and I

He felt it 

The lotus in the garage

His clubs

Titleist and Taylor made 

How would he mow

the grass

________________________

An opal 

In the ocean 

Glistening at

The surface 

Light reflects

Bending beings

Fantastical fortunes 

Made in a 

Day

Man an ounce

Too heavy 

On the scale

Rip and tip

The turns

In his favor 

Guided to the

Next place

By a familiar 

Face 

_________________________

Penn station waiting for my train

They seamed together

A dance they did in front 

Of a Hudson news 

Twisting under too bright 

Sterile light, timetable screens

Glistening off their doughy faces 

Their black uptown’s matched 

Step, no hierarchy here underneath

Concrete labyrinths 

Bodies uniform in

Syllogistic synchronicity 

Sameness vibrates unseen

To the untrained eye but if

You slow down

You can hear it 

___________________________

Every night and every morn

Some to misery are born.

Every morn and every night

Some are born to sweet delight.

Some are born to sweet delight,

Some are born to endless night.

::William Blake, Auguries of Innocence ::

____________________________

I want to do some things

Pick flowers for you 

In the spring

I like when they're growing 

Dont want to tell you baby when I'm going

Live my life on the road

A country highway littered with gold

My legs never stop moving

My soul got to be grooving

It's just another day

In an unfamiliar town

A familiar face I catch in the sky

Can't remember who but I remember why

To keep me keeping on

To keep me from speaking tohim

That devils lie I do despise

But he ain't never did me wrong 

Dust belts made of grain 

Lost my mind but I saw my brain 

Tempers flare on the straight and narrow 

Pawned my gun for a bow and arrow

I don't want to miss

My shot again 

Now I'm living by natures law

Saturdays spent in winters thaw

The seasons change without my mood

I kissed the ground told her I'd be true 

That devils lies I do despise 

But he ain't never did me wrong 

__________________________

know gods

just work

cast in the shadows 

lurks the arch

driven director, 

the show loose in its boundaries,

creatively directed at will

by willing participants (either doers

or spectators) eyes on the prized 

possession of creation

dystopian enterprise

13. words fade like breath on window panes

no weight

no measure

the rhythm left

to the devices of 

grand arteries

moving in and out

warm, thick

tepid sentences

gleamed out of 

a perfect machine

the mouthpiece beckons from

a higher source

imploring chaotic 

tendencies to remain

unchained

14. shifting perspectives

so seeing out

becomes peering in

like window shopping

without windows

or shops

casually strolling

in photographic 

effigy, crazier than 

x could be z

but they’re the same

variable, portioned

pigment

15. jingle jangle

plants communicating across

fire escaped nexus

blast off sequences

text reached in

genomic frequents

speak when speech

is your beacon

im a puppet 

in someone else’s

show

___________________

bathe me in a sweet east

river sunrise, running

round corlears hook w/

the air of thugs enveloping

my spirit. inhaling the wind

that beat sails

of ships harbored misfits

shanghaied off to

neverlands, never to be seen again

bones beaten with ill gotten gains

the darkness both refuge

and a danger the streets bear

no names remnants of

repose left in damp dreams

of a demagogue (its only

yours as long as you can

keep it) the unrelenting cry

of the masses more freedom

the request only relevant

in the pit of despair

_________________

homeless thoughts

poverty snatches

dreams like pickpockets

thrifty movements

lost to the

faberge of night

a blanket of stars

refreshed

with a ripple,

waves working

onwards,

emanating

fully freed 

potentialities

a saint

on a street corner

exhaling psalms

while lamenting

lack of sleep

his next meal

buried deep 

in the refuse

of cosmic 

chaos.

looks like

neutron soup

again

__________________

all these humans lost up in the maze

where the streets became waves

when the tides define the times

a city has no name

i came across this wounded bird

flightless sleeping on a curb

an event of change transpired

a mystery carrying allure

a wildman reigns again

left with memories of slain friends

at home in the solace of his jungle

where each beginning has no end

i see him supporting the shadows

carrying their secrecy in his stride

everyday the walls coming closer

but no less is he bound by that lie

good fortunes came and went

and with it the weak were left to repent

but the strong soldier of fortune

knew what nature had meant

___________________________

towards the throne they all strive

it is their madness - as if happiness

sat on the throne

-nietzche

____________________________

i found 

her wandering

along a silent

stream

whispering a sweet

nothing

love’s 

cradle

rocking 

endlessly

— 

take solace 

in your

loneliness

watch

humbly

be her 

servant

— 

love you

inside

deeply thirsting

for your affection

yet 

this love energy

for myself

wraps like

a warm

blanket

i feel 

like a baby

again

____________________

ruby shopping on a tuesday

in a bazaar

close to home

shutters painted

like the sky

+ sea

one blur

of infinite 

jest, 

the wind 

tickles her lips

as she drinks

from a fountain

in the square

_________________________

 tompkins

on grass

smoking joints

chainsaws in the distance

sonorous sounds

of man on metal

skinny girls 

baring flesh

love drunk

with sun

sparrows

taking dirt 

baths

______________________

i kept a fragment 

of her open mouth

as a fractal 

in my imagination

constantly in motion

according to laws

hidden to 

themselves,

what a fun 

conundrum

____________________

she leaves

her trace

lingering 

as a sweet

smell of midnight

like a first

stroke on blank 

canvas

 an orderly 

escapade into

unfamiliar depths

of creation

_____________________

shakedown at ground zero lights flaring

into sunken permanent pits, constant

re-development + increased surveilling

survey, people corralled in

traffic calming robotics. the sea 

swarms too heavy. one must ride

the tide to stay afloat the 

great mistake or lose bodily

function on manicured manic

architects ejaculate, masonry

like lego blocks placed

by titans, atlas shrugs + the

weight becomes ours, plebeians

waiting eons for a new day

unfortunately it may neve r

come. except to that one

stranger stumbling out

the cold with a scratch off

that smirks

he’s one for life.