Sicily, 1932

Colluding on the pleasant beach
With three well-known Italian murderers,
I, haloed, spiteful, gazed at the vermillion
Wonder, Italian sunset. Wandered, I,
To foreboding palace, breezy hotel lobby,
Loitered, went off praying in evening tones,
Head bowed, I - listen for sun-dried tomato
Seller, homeward, solemn, saintly. Saintly,I
Am my knife: deadly, waiting for the Lord.

My Side Of The Mountain

Sam Gribley is
very clever because
he figured out how
to burn the tree
to make more space.

He was also
clever for training
Frightful. Sam was
clever for not getting
caught.

Sam was
independent for living
alone with a
few people once
in a while.

He was independent
for being able to
live alone
which
for some
people is
hard.

Sam is
very
adventurous for living
in the woods with all
the animals.

He was
adventurous
for having
such an amazing
adventure.

Reanimate Me, Friend (A Plea From The Dead)

If you should find me rotting in the wood,
Beneath a moldy mound of brown decay,
My head a mushy ball of nothing good,
A'mingling with the earth on which I lay,
I pray that you would sew me up with string,
And stuff my corpse with meat to make me full,
Devise a voice machine to make me sing,
When on a tiny rope your children pull.
But if I should begin to fall apart,
Or stir some mental sickness in your wife,
I hope that you would hold me in your heart;
It's hard to keep a carcass in your life:
But know it's harder to forget the face,
You melted in your family fireplace.

Martin J. Legrande Tours The Old Museum

Sun go up, Sun go down,
Martin J. Legrande's in town.
Stepped off the train at twelve o' three,
A cape, a Stetson, so carefree,
He saunters at a stately pace,
With haughty grin upon his face.
He's off to tour the old museum,
But first some coffee – sugar, cream.
No modern art, far too obscure,
His love for nudes just can't be cured;
He eyes the privates, length and girth,
His hands are shaking, full of mirth.
But Martin J. cannot resist:
He gives the marble crotch a twist,
And snaps the sausage clean in half,
And pockets pieces, for a laugh,
And laughing through the city streets,
So light and airy on his feet,
He puts the marble in his mouth,
As he wanders, wanders South.
Sun go up, Sun go down,
Martin J. Legrande's in town.

Alien Outlook

Forty Years from now
Will I have enough soul to lift one leg
High above the other
And kick
At my greatest fears?
The forecast calls for aliens
Or so says the bald astronaut
On my alabaster television set.
Wonder if they'll bring treats.
Barks the dog.
I haven't an answer
A single clue.
A single drop of creativity in my rusty
Lusty bones.
I don't questions anything anymore.
I simply follows my gut.
Follow it down the hall to the kitchen where I
Eat shit made out of skin.

It won't be until I scramble all the meat
Out of my hot iron stove
That I shall return to my alabaster television set
And find
That the bald astronaut on the television,
He was an alien all along.

Alien-Abraham

Star-craving Scientologist,
starving, raving
mad lover in bed,
stabs his son for Abraham, the alien
from an adjacent
time scheme.

This is my home planet;
my porch is scorched
with liquid fire from
alien-Abraham's molten mouth.
In Him we are unfazed,
unafraid of human lazers, eyes.

Abraham is framed
on the running wall,
running red with blood.
Gravitationally inclined,
walls fall apart and time
expands, relatively speaking.

De nada 23 In E Minor

Skin suit
zoot suit
Laundry chute
Old red boot
Grandad's panflute
These are the things that will kill you.

Sharing Is Caring

Hello my name
is Cpt. Hank Johnson
I am here to destroy the universe
I am the Destroyer of Worlds
and the maker of pizza pies
hark hark here comes Roger Minderbilt
Prince of Darkness and Roast Ferret
Shh – silence in the presence of a king.
Castle walls – high castle walls
dark cold night and the ghost sounds
drifting through the oak door crevices
holy sword stab me through and through
trunkate the masses and chortle with
the best of the dunces.
True story:
painting a landscape of the Queen's
naked body. King comes in
shout and violence, bloody
and sharp I stabbed and fall
I call it:
Landscape In Red (Blood)
Face your fears
these years are tense
night feels eternal
I'm not quite there – the transit
ional period – quite a
reversal
no doctor: I am
not here, but can I be
with a little practice perfect
practice? Nuclear war and the
war of the roses – which came first
Manta Rays or the Deadly Shark?
Beached whale stinks like rotten
human skin, roasted flayed and
under your bed. Bump bump
night is dark and cloudy cloudly
see the wind it's red and heavy with
blood spray vomit vomit vomit in
Yosemite. High class high walls
scale the wall of dignity, Royal Sir.
Share with me your inner secretions.
Blast my preconceptions if you will.
Prejudice is poison poison poison
and I am the golden cup of sleepy
drink. Heaven help me Lordy Lordy
this cabin is cold and cramped and shackled.
Prince of Darkness, Old Uncle Lucifer -
take me to your cave cage and unloose me.

Two-Line Poem

Martin Scorsese -
         speaking in Morse code.