there are walnut trees on Pluto i think
crystal diamond blue
horizon upside down
center dividers stars in bloom
Ernest H waves from a black velvet bull nebula
shooting at gazelles in heat
downtown city hall fenced off from vagrant free radicals steady to explore
news of the day inner tubes
floating up the ice tundra
teeny tiny core
liquor stores
barbershop
bank building
bikini lounge
margaritas screaming opera loud
golden arches
chicken all militarized
taco toll
franchise whores
open for business
Pluto has one cherry tree
at dawn we read thee Book
thee Morning Star’s dead light
we shouldn’t tell those lies
could the gropers mashers and fiends
grandpa killers darlings of infallible machines (wink wink)
dare to go where print castrates them
Pluto tired just like us
rotates on her side
ferns and fossil bones fuel
glistening surface ice
Charon chases Papa like a Marx brother
down a Cuban blvd
Che comandante semper fi
make a left on Broadway
Pluto grows tomatoes
shipped to Mars
on backs of rain forest mamas
haiku for blushing girl
wallflower
blush
in
the
beam
of
Venus
eyes
hide
from
an
angry
Sun
defcons and goddesses
there are yellow flowers honey sweet
butterflies floating in between
the thorns stick it to the sky
moons on time every month
silver matte and happy
but me thinks now and again
of defcon one through five
911 Cuban crisis kept at bay
yet with clear blue skies
hope
open enrollment
healthcare packages
named after heroes named
what difference does it do when little girls are getting maimed in mind body soul and spirit
today i watched and saw and read and talked to those who’ve climbed the ladders of success congratulations were in order
at the park the pecan squirrels were fed bits of corn and French bread crumbs
and when i turned my eyes to the west
tired with the wind that blows to burn
again i think of defcon one
and how since Lilith and the Eve
my kind has been regarded
but we’re still here with codes
of our own bestowed upon us
by the goddesses Grace Strength and
Thunder
insecurity haiku
love it hurts me so
never knowing where to go
on lines of his palm
Yu
engine speaks in tongues at times
pulls into the soul
stops dusty clotted roads
the time to move was now
like a parade
on protest days
green mile flowers
line the way
sun kisses face alone
under hood hoses roar
radio delivers telegrams
from simpler times
and long ago
trails like waiting mothers
daughter shacks lined down
their shack feet shoed with poppies
ruby slippers anti-Hollywood style
ghost maidens sell red berries
for crows atop the Joshua trees
for me to feed
can’t stand tall
only in awe
dream catch spider web
crystals for tiny arachnid queens
their king hides under the rocks
wind fingers my aging hair
cowlicks everywhere
magnetism from Her core
presses on my mouth
and leaves a score
locked in me
are secrets stored
warriors express on Her behalf
not because they deem Her less
but because She is too sacred
for this place where i come from
in the hollows
warm like wool blanket cream like gypsy wall boundaries with lust but never really captivated some shelter only in the head down the road of night relays morning light squinted are all eyes to cold soggy existence
haiku for Lou
almost
midnight
lipstick
gone
cigarette
smoke
melody
doo doo doo
*happy birthday Lou hope heaven is perfect and smack Andy and Dr. Seuss on the ass for me
dying calla lilies
quiet night traffic far away
every now and then a pup yelps
a wayward bird sings outside my bedroom tree
on book table black pressed wood
furniture of wayward youth
thrift store jar where my heart lives
a pair of dying calla lilies
representatives of shifts in life
into a phone i type feelings that should have been spoken many years ago
supple tender gentle were my hands
reaching up to the hearts of men
and discovered as i pulled back empty bleeding stumps that they had no love to give me
thursday morning
it’s cold
fog morning
cemetary waking up
birds pitch black
mean beaks hell song
yellow eyes like jewels at antique store
flowers stand at ease
giants among the remains of someone’s mother
peace thriving in the land of make believe
worms yawn loudly
slipping in the dew
sky pewter gray
tufts of pink and baby blue
like your dilated pupils
that still seep into my miserable days lowering the golden bamboo blinds
the strong black coffee obsidian in my cup
gaping for molasses
amber golden brown from Canada
Neil Y nameless horses guitars and essence of sand
i sip and i wonder
north beach
i dreaming on the couch
will meet you at Jack’s alley
doo wop were the days
when you let the voices out of their cage a movement of freedom
within the confines of infinite youth
all are welcome and there you go
climbing up the stair to heaven
on steps of words one atop another
city light bay we the beat and stray
hipster pharaoh usher to the generation drunk in experimental experience at night morning sober in stark madness
busses flowers LSD plus the three
i’ll wait in tenderloin scribbling
hieroglyphs on chewing gum wrappers catching whispers in the wind with flowers in my hair
paper cuts betwixt the webs of my hands
snap the jazz between the streets
my shoe untied my notebook knowing
that smile i do when missing you
RIP Lawrence Ferlinghetti
words less spoken 