HAPPY NEW YEAR BELOVED ONES
Free Thought
Prolific Pulse Press Social Justice Inks is OUT!!!
tough skin
like a tree in the dead of city
tough skin is what i need
to think about myself
as standing tall and without bend
tickling the sky with my leaves
tough skin is what i speak
through the chirps of tawny birds
and the billions of bugs’ marching feet
along the branches of my trunk
eight and three is 11
8 moons and 3 Sputniks
i see tonight while standing
outside deep breathing
the news shows
bleeding from my neighbor’s window
tomorrow i will rise
get caffeinated
and get on the road
to imagine what it’d be like
if i could fly in outer space
high voltage
let us praise sweet baby Jesus
for this liver of mine
these combat boots circa 1989
the fuck you nose in the air Lost Angelina flair
thank my lucky stars for me growing up between the nickel and old school Hollywood
i like a mold among the sparkly tinsel glow of all of those who have come and gone
but i am still here, ha!
and to the goodness let us thank you too for gifting me the shadows of Bukowski’s foot steps his words and his bungalows over on the east side
thank you universe for allowing me the courage or something to taunt my teachers with the scratching of my internal she balls
and my mohawk and knee scabs after countless drunken skateboard falls while attempting to take a calculus test
thank you God for the life You have let me have and the free will to let me feel the punching caresses of the days gone by
slumber, i’m here
slumber, i’m here
see by your
side 50 years
b’tween oh what
the shit we’ve
seen words fed
me like a
bird later i
met your friends
among podiums raised
to you old
man western Blvd
we walked the
Hollywood falling bridge
west scoring beer
with publishers checks
me scoring in
other ways but
i got the
gist of you
don’t try you
said i said
let me see
you liked whores
i liked bus
stops pigeons in
the night we
both liked dive
bars hard boiled
eggs at half
past nine tough
you challenged me
but not before
the ham on
rye beer on
tap my imagination
enochian LA
through my fingers they speak
flutter swiftly laughing
translucent and sometimes wicked dark
nonsense to me or you
yet in my dreams
the tomes of history explored
poured out the morning after
through my crooked fingers scrawled
spider tongue speakers
spider tongue speakers
where are my words
how did they just go away
speakers of spider tongues
multiple eyes mega thunder
sounds with meaning
ancient bird collides
the boulders of lies
nature in pixel flat
air an element to mean bullshit
times have changed
heralding the sweet nothings
only heard by supple machines
in the night of the web
tulips land like ticker tape
bees in tribunes
held up in polyester silk production
we have a meta face against the will
of the living
high tail
it
could
go
either
way
no
heads
or
tails
this
time
i
will
walk
blindly
the little freedoms
not this morning nor any other time
has silken hair been a concern
old jeans black ashy tee
worn grimy chucks
red painted lips not for me
scab marks on fingertips
smiling face collecting things
at the antique store
thoughts of politics tea and scorn
stopped in track by butterfly songs
flutters of black orange magic
words less spoken 