WHERE LOVERS HIDE

Within the grasp of a cuttlefish
who swam from the center of Eden,
a murderous symbol of nothingness
grappled with somebody's life.
This somebody was a woman,
naked and young and yearning.
Her thighs held the wines of a festival
that the sea otters called in the dawn.
Her breasts were the dreams of an octopus
who danced through the dust of the bay
and who sang of the love of the unarmed girl
who was swimming in from a whale's back.
She had caught a bird of paradise
flying up her dress and cried:
"Don't pin no unborn saviors on me!"
And pregnant with nothing but her own immense desire
she danced a tarantella with the wind
and flew through the night to an island
where the giants rode chihuahuas
and the battles all were ended by the dawn.
It was here she met her lover,
a young ruffian whose kisses were wild cherries
and the tear drops of the moon.
His horns were made of silver
and his claws were silken acrobats
that pranced across her flesh.
Together they explored the oceans,
swam the gentle air,
and immersed themselves in fires
of squirming rose petals
and snakes.
No world was left unturned
and the vast and passionate upsetting
flowered with all the dreams of those
who understood how lovers hide
within true revolutions...

A FLUID BUTTERFLY

Consider a fluid butterfly,
a purple star that flitters through the night
upon the feet of porcupines
whose tarantella dance
eclipses both the sun and moon
when the oceans offer daydreams
to children who have sparks for eyes.
I watched this languid creature
spitting horseshoes at the sun
and turned its wings into a mask
that sang in harmonies as varied as
the contours of your face.
Its shape was like the twelfth dimension
of a hair that grew on the ass
of the most beautiful baboon.
And this is how I found the secret
that was dripping from the folds
that hid behind your undulating
earlobe

THE SPACES BETWEEN MORNINGS

The spaces between mornings are the lives of inter-galaxies of doom.
They wail like midnight winds chasing alabaster dogs across the sky.
I believe I saw them talking with a wombat made of amber
as the rose of attar danced upon a plate of sweet potatoes.
It was a feast of undiluted wisdom drunk with the symptoms of acute miosis.

SLIPPERY AS A PEACOCK

Slippery as a peacock
I went sliding down a mountain
of tears.
I had travelled through the sword fields
and gathered cocktails of ants and sheltered honeycomb.
My mother turned into a statue of cheese
and spritely wombats devoured her
before a collapse could say, "drown me in chocolate!"
A thunderstorm blew its bebop dirge
in celebration of this unsettled earthquake.
And of course, I went dancing in mad masquerades
while a hatter appealed to the stumbling of ice
in a tourniquet made on the moon.

UNHOLY PRAYERS AND ANTI-SERMONS

The fog of religion

continues to hover

over the earth,

its poisonous fumes

smothering freedom

and pleasure.

How often will we

have to kill god

before this bloody specter

stops haunting our dreams

and turning this world

into a nightmare?

*

I have watched brown vomit dripping

from the mouths of politicians and

putrescent preachers

It blends with the bloody wine

of their divine and patriotic

drunkenness,

toasting to their

sacrifice of someone else’s youth

and joy and life

for those stinking turds

that they call god and country.

*

The windy sails

of a gypsy parasol

dance on the roof of a

mastodon’s tusk.

The ancient finesse

of a poet with switchblades for eyes

and a tongue made of virulent hammers

is smashing through

the shadowy prison bars

of your desiccated

god.

*

Simpering fools

devour their dreams

like a wren in love with a giraffe.

I danced in the volcanic butter

swinging through trees

made of fur

and wandering through the graves

of those gods

that form themselves

from the feces

of earthworms.

*

Wherever the withered

cunt of a nun

deposits its fecal dreams

for the heavenly charade,

an opiated dance

of divine cock

swings withered from the trees

of a preacher’s rotted tongue

and desire finds its way

through a corridor of blood

to kneecap some protestant

pope.

*

“We shall always and gladly be dreamers”

This is the cry

that pierced the vagabond night

of orangutang rebellion

when the collars of priests

were made of hemp

and put an end

to their joyless

braying

when the badges of cops

were switchblades

firmly planted

in their hearts

when the institutions shattered

to the roar of unfettered desire.

*

Eleven dancing bluebirds

paid a visit

to a pope

They vomited

into his mouth

to drown the sacred

sermons

They showered him with

the finest guano

leaving stains upon his robes

which took the sniveling

toadish shapes

of his shit-licking savior

and his bum-fucking

god.

*

Floozy primed

like a grey giraffe

goes running through forests

of priest’s legs

The spreading of cheeks

like feathers on a peacock’s ass

can see into the distance

of time

This is how a crater

volcanic on the moon

went dancing with a god-like

hyena.

*

Suffer the little ones

to vomit on a halo

despising all enforcement

of prayer

The sacred is

a slimy eel

wriggling from the anus of a god

whose favorite pastime

is buggering dead rats.

In his putrid temples

the worshipers leave offerings

of shit..

*

Our father who art

a dismal syphilitic fart

vomit all over your own shoes

Your pathetic cock hangs

limp and festering

caked with the crap

of your own anal mouth

You are the putrid

rat-sucking simpering spook

adored by a billion debrained lice

If it weren’t for you diseased slime

I’d stick my turgid sword up your

crepuscular anus

But no

better to vomit on your

empty pointed head

*

Feckless Jesus,

stupid cuntless dog,

you make me want to spit nails

through your melting skull

flaccid as a putrid rotting slug

your cock slipped off

and crawled through mud

toward your vapid virgin mother’s

rotting vulva

skull crushed like a walnut shell

in the personal desire

for the collapse of mindless vampire fish

that swim up your anus

with switchblades

and slice the putrid slime

off of your syphilitic nose.

*

Sickly spirit of righteousness,

your limp and rotting cock

responds only to the harsh stroke

of the whip.

You whimper now before the fierce upbraiding

of a child who shed the false cloak of innocence

to shit upon your sacred head.

Her laughter is a knife wound through your withered tit,

a deadly poison seeping through your melted brain.

You are the god of breathing corpses,

seething in your own morbid juices.

The echoes of your horrid word

sounds precisely like the music

of an elephant’s fart.

*

Bilious patterns of righteousness

vomit their vile and godly toxins

over utopian dreams

of marmots and rope swings

and feathery caresses

corroding their joy

and transforming the succulent fruits

of a luminous dragon

into the murky sludge

of the holy word.

The joy of explosive possibilities

that dances with serpents of unfettered thought

is drowned in the mire

of dogma and unending judgment.

I hide the glowing sapphire of my dreams

deep within the pocket of my lust-encrusted rags.

It is the sharpening stone for the dagger

that I’ll plant within the heart

of every hateful savior.

*

Crapulent Christ

the demons of your own guilt

bugger your pustulant wounds

taking in such foul infections

that their cocks fall off

like maggots

that writher and wriggle

over your shit-encrusted toes.

The cannibal feasts of your faithful

poison minds

until they melt into

a toxic soup

fed by gloomy reptiles

to the children of the damned

to ensure they never

learn the songs of monkeys

or don the vibrant robes

of ancient birds of paradise

which would transform them

into mighty rebel dreamers

greater than all gods…

*

The baleful eyes of judgment

cast their putrid poisons

out across the world.

The swirling dance

of golden monkeys

pauses for a moment

and the birds of paradise

shudder in their undulating trees

as this pestilent shadow passes overhead.

But upon a thread of iridescent silver

two lovers are embracing

in an intertwining dance

of sweat and passion.

Devouring each other

with an octopoid love

set aflame by their utopian lust,

their fire dispels all judgment,

for these miasmic fumes

that escape from dripping rotted eyes

are nothing but the stink

of god’s putrid, rotted corpse.

*

Wedged within the veils

of a rabid donkey’s dreams

a very green potato

was to sing of all the violence

of god

The marinated song

descended like

a rain of frogs

upon the bloody oceans of

a wounded albatross

Within the quarter hour

a church collapsed

a politician choked on babies’ heads

and a cop melted into peanut rust.

*

Frivolous anteaters

dance through dark dawns

like the bullets that aim

at heads of state

A flashing dark antelope

leaps toward the sky

defending the lovers

whose marmoset eyes

flash lightning

into the abyss

Within the circular

dance of our gods

this is the flame

that destroys all their power.

THE ABYSS OF DREAMS

I dream of encounters

skin touching skin

a fly’s breath and reverie

revelry

subtle wine drunk from the lips

of one who draws me

into her own magic

I have dreamed of dances

naked hilltop leaps toward the stars

gibbering songs of exquisite joy

daring escapades of love and chaos

We howl our fire out into the night

and the stars grow brighter.

*

Someday an armadillo

may crawl through the windmills

of vast oceans of sperm

Then there will be green fountains

spurting through the warm breasts

of a vampire dog

whose grandmother

sped like a horse shoe

through the doors of my own

little fart.

*

While werewolves roamed

the fields of despair

a little man

with a crab for a head

snapped off the nose

of a corporate shill

The resounding effects

of this mermaid-like orgasm

are still found wandering

through the deserts of New Hampshire

where fish have begun to eat pasta

and my grandmother to suck twat.

*

Are the eyeballs of situationists

so round that they fit between

the gears of a historical moment

that rode in on a half polluted marmoset

and shouted out the challenge of a pelican

against the dull façade

of a grey dawn?

*

If I flipped you on your back

amid the flaming dreams of swordfish

dancing for a swift albatross

would you see the vital signs

of a florid coral unicorn

that swept away the flowers

of a rattle snake in heat

whose mother danced a tango

naked with the concubines

of a solemn polar bear?

*

There are dreams that dance

through great disasters

hidden in the wings

of a fruit bat

They wander over crescents

that tattoo the feathers

of a yellow-bellied coot

And they feast upon

the drainage pipes

that twist into the sculptor

of an island made of coconuts

and fur.

*

Remember the gypsy albatross

whose fiddle was made from

the thin hair of a titmouse

and strung with the wings of

a rabid dog

From its mouse-shaped body

he caressed the most feral melodies

dancing apple trees

that coupled with the dusty desert wind

and fell like an old tomato

on the lawn.

*

There were dreams in my suitcase

when I came into your town

There were ocelots and rare snakes

made from strange perfumes

that I had gathered from the wildflowers

of a tropical Siberia

These treasures were my labor

and my play

And yet this did not stop you

from declaring them a menace

and demanding that I turn them into

tokens for your subway

that carries only rancid milk

and the suffering sheep

that you have fleeced

But my dreams have exploded

into tigers of wrath

and dragons spitting poison

through the nightmares

of your wretched

public safety.

*

Poetic endeavors flash like lightning

across the midnight sky

or swing through treetops

like a gibbon in heat

seeking a fruit made of teardrops

While a million stars flicker

in their deranged eyes

a thousand dancing girls

swirl into the abyss

singing aleatory arias

of solitude and dreams

This is the sign we’ve been waiting for

the reason to run through the markets

laughing like great apes.

*

In the stark light

of a burning cop car

my faint silhouette

takes the form of an icicle

hanging in fine resolution

from the nose of a drunken

orangutang

The fine cold fire

of my passion

seethes like a dagger burning

in the heart of a politician.

*

It was the theft of the spiraling dancer

who leapt with chimpanzees through jungles of snow

that led me to howl with the dolphin’s strange glee

as I grasped unhinged legs

that scampered with antelope fury

through the head of a pagan leaf-muncher.

*

I race like a chipmunk

through saturnalian dreams

devouring black pineapples

in the screaming heart of a hurricane.

I gathered the afternoon daisy crop

and pressed it between telescopes

that focused on a galaxy

deliriously dancing

as my mother played trombone

in my bathtub.

*

I run like a peacock

over rabid plains

where the howls of icicles

pierce the starry sky.

Here I have seen eyes

with kaleidoscopic fangs

that chew the hearts

out of dinosaur eggs.

Where myths explode

such monsters have their dance

and howling laughter pierces through the winds.

NO MONKEYS ARE SOLDIERS, ALL MONKEYS ARE MISCHIEVOUS

Abandoned to the unicorn of pleasure

whose gilded hoof is a chipmunk

saturated with the almonds of disgust

I begged to penetrate the anisette fortress

which dances like a pendulum

within your cunt.

I lick it with a tongue of cabbage fish sauce.

*

Stickers of silver

embrace the piercing scream

of a maiden intoxicated

by the magic files of apes

that grew within

the solemn rapture

of a single night.

The feast of vibrant elephants

emasculates her unborn child

and shoots a scone of rapids

towards the moon.

*

Green

cock jelly spews

like a lustful antelope

pursuing the spreading legs

of a concord concubine

Her breasts demanded

satisfaction

from a shaved orangutang

and her flaccid star-fish vulva

claimed an orgasm of ivory

from an octopus

erect among the rosebuds.

*

Violent, dark and bloody cabbage,

I have kicked in the door

of your xylophone teeth.

With the ichor of green walruses

you have tried to make me swim

through a mountain of sharpened

apple teeth

and I have vomited into the depth

of your cunt.

*

Watery and strange

like the vivid limp

of an arthropod

you go dancing through the tops

of falling trees

Wasted on the death cries

of an albatross from Sicily

you ran naked

through the streets

of templed Africa,

a single feather flapping

in your mouth.

*

Hybrid heroics

jump a fence inside your mind

which a turgid monkey flaps about

for the silver breasts to see.

I stroke their innocent nipples

and suck on the corn

of an elephant’s dream

while waltzing over labia

of shattered, microbe landscapes.

*

Strumming gypsy melodies

as chipmunks dance

we scurry toward the vampires

on the moon.

So many bloody cunts

have painted apple trees

upon its drunken face

and strummed clitoral symphonies

for the purple squids

who dance there.

*

Syphilitic digestion

eats the widowed cunts

of half-crazed octopi

The vibrant arrow

of synthetic infection

dances like a treetop

full of bumblebees

And a rider

on the overcoats of reason

takes out his whip

and howls

in the effervescent dawn.

*

Go sweet fighters

smother all the flying fish

that dance across the waves

in the dawn

Throughout the vapid day

a purple-coated jaguar

will sing the canticles

of a dullard peanut

and squeeze the green petunia

out his indecisive ass

This will herald the coming

of a flea.

*

A cold morning taps out

its morse code of death

and chimpanzees play catch

with a presidents skull

The dark dreams of utopia

linger in slithering jungles

where snakes paint

a glittering brilliance

of dawn with their scales

The succulence of

such meandering dances

is the brilliance of the twilight

of the gods.

*

Slammed in the dark jaws

of a rabid baboon

you go dancing

down feathered abysses

An abscess of time

spins endlessly

through the eye

of a limpid chimpanzee

He sees in the dawn

a nude woman

spread out like the hair

on a dancing orangutang.

*

The labial spread

of a donkey’s ear

erupts like the dreams

of Vesuvius

A concubine tainted

with the purple blood of sapphires

spreads her eyes

over drifting horizons

A caravan here

paints the colors

of baboons

across a most

mountainous sunset.

*

The graphic roars of robots

eat the feral meanderings

of a poor man’s rebel thoughts

The chimpanzees of desire

wind their sheltering vines

around the limits

of a cybernetic slut

Within the cracks

a dream erupts

exploding through the roars

The robots have melted

into tissues.

*

When your teeth

chatter in the wind

rest assured that

a wave of mercury

is passing like a velvet monkey

in the night

*

Once I dreamed of

solemn nudity

slowly trickling through

the heat between your thighs

into a basket

of sweet purple fruit.

*

So we sailed along

a beam of lightning

where a black cat danced

with the bridegroom of a mole

and the festivals of elephants

were ready to begin

when the guided missal

slammed its pages

in a sea of gin

and my flaccid oceans rose

like the green hair

of a porcupine.

*

Do you remember

the night the moon had the pox

and our daydreams were drowned

in the pus of her sores?

Where could we run

as these stinking drops

rained down like dead apes

on our only utopia?

*

It was solemn but hardly the end

when the teeth of an alligator

clamped like a golden thistles

upon the throat

of a corrupted earthworm

The winter storms had

passed them by

and I ran like a monkey

in circling tornadoes

or sperm.

*

Ground to the finest powder

in the gears of a hermaphrodite’s desire

I found myself screaming

with a rooster’s voice

through the vixen teeth

of my vagina

I bit like that revolutionary monkey

who danced ‘til the purple moon

fell into your blue sea.

*

With laughter’s ladder I climbed

into a sunken green chasm

with the arms of a lover

who had monkey’s feet.

She came through

a rainbow trout’s

ventilated twat

and surveyed the dark kingdom

of marinated porcupines

with Sisyphus’ clit.