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"The Valley" "Where we played as children"
The bubble burst for banks that play with cash
encoding phantom wealth, made real by crimes
that promise a course of escalating times;
who’s truth is based on no more than the ash.
So now we want reform to bind wall street,
pull economic power from the few
who rule the money but do not renew
the social pact, when they with ease may cheat.
We say no more on a global scale will we
let companies so grow they may not fail.
and never more will we affect the bail
or listen to their slimy, lying plea.
Sweet iced tea
Served on the window ledge
The close warm air
Second floor breeze
My sisters asleep
The front window open
Me and mom hanging out
Looking at the stars
Of Main Street
Puerto-Rican chrome
White leather seats
"Hey baaaaby!"
"Ooooh, Mamacita!"
"Old Sailor" waltzing
The Drunkard's Strut
Bouncing off the drugstore window
Mom called the cops
The ice caps melt and forests burn,
And quickly the planet takes new shape;
The angel of death does not pass the righteous
Who have smeared the blood on their doors.
With nowhere to escape but underground,
Throats are seized with Armageddon-
There is no call from the glorious creator-
Thou shalt preserve the primal land.
I’ve seen the thing
belching in the garden like a sick toad
poised in the dark, breathless as a hound.
Three stub fingers in a crooked groove,
a commandment held firmly.
Her Word a scythe over the wheat fields,
still eyes smoking with lunar fog
The suffocating aeons of spinning stone pillars
Gravitas above a black aeon’s body
far away and ill lit. Faith is in eyes
punctured and still. Her eyes grind dust,
the stars from circus balls bleed out,
Embrace me with your intellect
Inseminate with your skill
Implant the sperm humanely
With wisdom let me fill
As we share intercourse
Of courtly love and such
Takes just one seed to sate me
Fruition will be much
The evening sky lights up
In brilliant flames of orange
Turning hazily to gold
As they go to caress the sea.
Approaching islands of clouds…
Sweep quickly overhead
And each island, catching
The slanting rays of sun,
illuminates in sky!
stuffed like manicotti
diaphanous girl
a headless masquerade
her black lipstick and shivering pearls
giggle like earthquake chandeliers
festooned buttocks
curves a lyrical hell of desire
pocket eyes
dead suns
aloof
yield vacant split azure vault
a fetish horror
zoomorphic and headless
a thrilled non compos mentis
her mouth widens
like a line turning into circle
turning into a jagged city
of twining red wet mayhem
We Nailed This Word,
Isn’t it Ironic
more than a little bit absurd,
that man first creates,
then becomes the meaning
of a word.
That word being pestilence,
with all it’s horrifying fame.
Man’s good book just pretence,
claiming a devil was to blame.
To blame for all the carnage,
by murder, hunger or disease.
Causing man’s horrid inner rage,
to spill another’s blood with ease.
Remember me
When you go to bed
With thoughts of me
Running through your head
Think back to the day
When we were wed
So many things left unsaid
While looking back try to smile
Wasn't it all worthwhile
Wasn't it all worthwhile