Six things in a ring holder
Like a six-pack plastic
Black nodding dog
Wrinkled bark of a tree
A birch, no
A dancing pool maid
Ripples and chipped teeth
Chipmunks cut out of a book
Folders that sense an intrusion
Waste basket
Church contusion
From an awakening
Exclusion
At last
It’s colder
Revolver
Silver solder
Fusion
Owner’s manual
A fickle cannibal in a rain storm
It’s being born
All cut in cubes
Liquid spraying
Like the desperate praying
Made to fuse
Made to be obtuse
Sliced to the floor
An angel is produced
Is it a boy?
Honk your horn
Posture galore
Hang to the floor
Pages of cheese
Like a foul breeze
Free car wash
Free marsh land
A quick marching band
A Quaker’s hand
Eating’s a chore
It is no more
It’s like sand
But it is
Chicken sicken
Keep a little
Your stomach will whittle
Piddle
Look for a distant shore
Ship slip slaughter
Water or an ink blotter
Accident
You are out and surrounded
Your imagination’s a mongrel
Your soul is pounded
A hunting hound
Is near
Between your ears
In your rearview mirrors
You have no daughter
By dry land
The evil mystery man
A pickled can Spells
Regret
Self hatred
You are forsaken
Cooked bacon
Cryptic room
Nostrils bloom
Nothing stands here
No air so beware of your environment
Upside down
Blood rushed sound
And of
The telescope’s hair
If it sticks up and talks
Like fingernails and chalk
Growth
The wind put back
The chimney’s soot
The sheet was ripped loose
And nailed down with boards
The gutter was full of things
That lost their grip
Drip
Leaves and
Squirrels things
Underground tomb
Gourds
The decent was detached
And floated across an open pit
Waiting
A cross
Fell
Over
The grass
The trees were blown over
In three neat stacks
The flowers
Were marching
In hoards
Up a hill
With death on their backs
March
The animal
Was cut in half
Right above the hip
The stovepipe was filled with someone
Trying to escape
Stuck
Together
The east and west merged
To go off and rape
Wild fires
Created an understanding
Meandering pockets of flames
Meadows of liars smoked out
Brutes
Pinched
Prodded
Cried out
Stepped out
Shook out like a rug beater
A poison filled birdfeeder
Hitting the side of a barn
Untold harm
They couldn’t see
They were responsible
No going back
A Clothes line
A jack-o-lantern
Only start from scratch
Spray the weeds
Dry the seeds
Light another match
Popping coals
Pine trees
In my dreams
And acidic needles
Spread around
They don’t fiddle with overgrowth
They’re like a smothering coat
They keep things to a minimum
They kill what’s left
Dandelions
Creeping Charlie
Uninvited guests
What’s spread by the breeze?
Disease and weeds.
Blind
It turned and went in circles
Spinning like a gear
Like you going nowhere
Like a ship climbing up the hill
Grinding the countryside
Things and trees
Were plucked like mad hair
And mashed to a stew
Misplaced rage
Hasn’t a clue as to its destination
It takes the wrong path
Talks to
Inanimate objects
Like a giraffe talking to children
Cursing their names
You are a drill bit
You sit at the bottom of a pit you created
You waited till you couldn’t wait
Anymore
You slid across the floor and batter
Like a crooked sail
Or a dirty sheet
In an uncomfortable wind
A mixture of pepper and lime
Like drinking bowls of gin
And blend in with the shavings
Melt with the ice of this place
And rattle that beautiful sound
Of a glass
Being converted
To a dizzy current of a typhoon
And pass out all over the room
All over this bliss
Of poison
Now your head is noisy
Picked like a boy picking candy
Out of the car seat
Or gum off the carpet
Under your sticky feet.
Sick
Throw a rock in the water
And hear it ring
Each skip sings
The stones shiver
A violin with a siren
Get out of its way
Your emotion shivers
You’re pathetic
You are a naked ghost
A pig on a roast
A smell of shoe polish
Only your pain is honest
Nothing to cover up
Beat the light
Pull over
You are as suave
As a boulder
You look older
Than your license
A mice infested field
Don’t fight the gut instinct
To sink at that sound
You are the sound
You mistreat
innocent
The trees wept
The colors bled
The derelict side
Of a spider’s mind
The breath of a furnace’s vent
Roaring up from soft cement
Stick a shovel through its ear
To cut the baby snakes
To head off what they might make
Brass bells
Half in the boat
And half in their box
They won’t ring if there are full
Of the rocks
From the lake’s floor
You stink
You are weak
The best time to explore the bottom of the pond
Is while controlling
The devil’s magic wand
If the cobweb can hold rocks
You better run
You’re not a special son
If you are alone
And they make their own throne
To execute orders
And slip under borders
And collect the blood of four dears
What’s going on here?
That is evil
That is real
They will have it for a meal
A frog shirt with goggle eyes
Give them back a stare
To rip their bones bare
You have to find the will to
Overcome
Sounds like fools
The kicked around gutter bum
And dirty paper palace
The putter
The malice of a black list
The wrist of a song
Taken somewhere wrong
Doing what’s wrong
Tell me the wordsYou don’t belong
Capturing the naïve
But don’t breathe
They’ll choke you and leave you
In hell
It’s not really your hell
But it might as well
Eventually
They will sink
And no sirens will blink.