...stuck like lines...

dusty glaze on walls

have not picked you up

out of time and tune

nicks along the neck

small dents in wooden

body curved like hips

full and low toned

hands lie on inlay

and try to pluck

strum and play

but song does not come

so easy

stuck like lines

in the throat

unwritten and unwilling

vibrations along the bridge

and words that rhyme

with string

...seek threads stained blue...

seek threads stained blue

stand tall thin through

true to you

glacial falling

glottal stopping

global failing

these are what is true

there is no more you

seek threads stained blue

...the union is fucking dead...

the wick instead of the gas.

the stroke instead of the pluck.

the angle over the angel.

the in-motion over the stuck.

the kindness under the madness.

the strongest under the weak.

the daily image of fragility.

the costs of unsettled speech.

the county over the state.

the state over the fed.

the warnings lack transparency.

the union is fucking dead.

...warnings against passion...

don't love that too much

it/he/she/they will not bare it

Smother is your mother with an S

puppies will dominate you

don't love them too much

same with people you don't care

about because their opinions matter

most they don't love you

don't find passion in books

art, poems or song either

find them only in cooking

in making salts

making sauce

please

please do not find

passion in something that is

compassionate

you just may fall for it

..O...

O new this year

O throw this last one away

O shit there it is

O last of the rumors

O last of the civilizations

we we we

will will will

eject our overcoats

throw balls of rice

O shit that's what we forgot

O we will O

O shit there it is

O last of the rumors

O last of the civilizations

...returning to darker forms...

nice to see you white

page turned black with back

inking and slaughtered

to create the darkest dye

nice to see you with

your pen in hand

waiting for the next

message or signal

to leave marks upon

...waking feet...

with these dogs

aching and these dogs

waking you up

when will your feet

rest from working

we only have two feet

you only have one

dogs have four

they are better

than some

...equal...

you are either

in or out

there is no between

or betwixt

no kinda or sorta

no maybe or baby

you are either

in or out

those are the rules

...rain through...

still beating droplet

left untouched

unsounded by echo

left disturbed

in the natural

aqueous state

...new era...

we all need

the family discount

even if we haven't

been familial

in years

...shorts...

shorts show

short on money

pockets

that are empty

when cutoffs

slice deep like wounds

empty sockets

worn joints

seams holding together

only to keep your

junk about you

from losing that too

symbols of slump

economic downturn

we never inherit

full pants

always just short

...ninety-two at midnight...

of oppression

this thick warm blanket

of heat bricking

on us like a house

hot and moist

a deadly sadist sees

the heat in waves

the street

curls and cracks

the roofs are no use

the night is nothing

but dark and heavy

ninety two at midnight

is just not right

...two years ago today...

the back of the menu

had the names of all

of the night's acquaintances

but not yours, and that

is the only one I needed

...sans cloud...

sans cloud

sun mood

in flight

movie moody

stuffed stubborn

like butt-born pigs

them pregnant trees

sun move

move star

across the pie

the entire pie

...no other truth...

when the harmonium

plays we can hear history

as a clear signal

not the cluttered mess

we find in the books

we read or follow

as truth

there is no other truth

than music

...held court...

on the grass

the ball skids

a little

and the kids

slip up drinking

cup along

the painted lines

to be fair

it was a sprinkle

little bits

of rain

...city ocean...

to shake things we had not

shaken in years and not

stirring but shaking

like the waves collapse

or the beat of the drum's

kickback, echo, location

on shore

...auto-erotic...

in all repairs

aiding the band

still bleeding

leaking oil

breaking down

needing a tow

to the next gig

still managing

to crash into

the same garage

each and every night

...backlash...

the kill mission leaves

no words from the target

in that silence

the fear begins to rise

and the backlash

across the skin

is the true test

of the choice we made

...stop...

we can stop

fighting now

right?