the suns scorch
is warm as a torch
the hot flicker light
of zippos not matte black
shoot flames to Pall
Malls and Lucky Stripes
Humidity drips on damp
straps..armpits and
spines beneath field
packs
As the helio blades
start to woop air
and the turbines
whine like eager
hungry hounds
for the air and hunt

crush out the smokes
with worn boots
crouching low and
climb aboard the
magic carpet ride
cradling helmet
squinting in the
dust from the open
door...
fifty cal at idle
rest
as we lift off
"Texas Witch"
on the nose
a lucky ship

eighty four
pounds
no ones speaks
its gonna be
a hell of a trip
but I smile
through the
fear gritty in
my gut
Fresh batteries
for the cassettes

rise above the palm
and wire
happy for the breeze
and view
counting days left
in
and touching the
talismans hanging
round my neck
the last lucks
check
before touch
down

....

a fighting foe at edge of camp
I see your form
then not

ephemeral you are my friend
your shadow slinks
on past

at first I'd swear you don't exist
cerebral twist
a plot

horizon's heated bawdy brawl
the loser is
outcast

such fighting fists of underground
your deathly stare
decreed

at times I'd glimpse a spicy scent
anathema to
my sphere

and then one day you cornered me
defeat would I
concede

if all side effects they tell
how will they their drugs sell
then no one will buy them
none living in hell... ..

do you know a quack
once said
I can't treat your breathing problem ..
but catch pneumonia .
and
I will treat you so very well..
your breathing problem
none will then know or tell
even you will feel better
and swell..

so says the drug dealer
so it seems
Albeit silently....

find the vein
puncture test tube gathering
of jettisoned ruby brilliance
collapsed life
like recycled boxed
lost and tossed

the busy emerge
stretches dusk
hours

Ive stepped beyond
checkerboard existance
tasted Lah Lah Landz
innoculated with righteous
desires
turn me loose
hauling chrome I.V. pole
signed waiver to smoke
in the failing sunlight
quiet with the other
denizens of work and
occupation from Forensics

times have began to elapse
generations seem to have been lost
who is to be in a lapse?
elderly have not made such boast
whom are we to slaughter?

proud is not the nation of today
young has not been found as yet
years of decades have seen a day
later how to be a pet
witness the hate and say
they have laid it and set
why should we give back a pay
all ancestors did was to rest
whom are we to judge?

Only peace sign is on a foreign car
With it, the door's ajar
Asking you to enter,
Come experience the splendor

Of your blood, sweat, and tears.
Never-minding who was stepped on
To get the higher praise after years
Slithering. The regret's gone

As soon as you hear the VROOM
Victory is consumed.
Disregarding the speed limit.
Hardened; Forgetting feces is scented.

Orange soda
rings on a caramel
leather dash
Odometer gives it up
as one fifty eight K
Barely broke in
Florida car
rooftop gunwale
rot
this Interstate cruiser
hauling north
the rainslap wipers
throwing off a hurricanes
efforts
slow drip on drivers door
but keeps dry the iron
beneath the six way
electric seat

In the face of tragedy or disaster
That befalls your fellow man,
Take your moment of silence,
Your thoughts and prayers,
Your signs of the cross,
Your hypocritical sympathies
And condolences,
And shove them.

Take the preachers,
Priests, rabbis, imams
Shamans and witch doctors
You seek out for
reassurance and validation
And shove them, too.

APOCALYPSE OF ONE

how soon it comes
this apocalypse of one.
how helpless when
nothing can be done,
and so it is with all
creatures human:
the soul grieves as
the flesh agonizes
and the spirit languishes
in hopeless longing