Builders! Builders!

Lengthways!
cried the builders
of the horizontal tower
over - under - beaming sturdy
beaming strong
it won't be long - it won't be lengthy
til our vision sees fruition
shaking handly
shaking boldly
builders! builders! of my tower -
ever breaking by the hour -
every stone is like - a flower
scenting sweetly - so concretely!
Remember - Stan?
who fell -
from grace -
onto his -
beaming -
smiling -
face?
Oh! the gkirsh -
of head implosion - brainymelon! tired over!
gkirsh! gkirsh!

It's windy work to work
alength the horizontal tower
but - I like it - yes it's lovely!
ever breaking by the hour!

Hump Day Haiku

Hark! For pork shank scent
hath reached unto my snout length.
Me? A wolf, wolf, wolf.

Hump Day Haiku

Hallelujah Jim,
Our nuptial agreements hold
More venom than shit.

Hump Day Haiku

Flacid Penises
Flopping down the mountainside
I drink your milkshake

Common European Ash Mountain

My grandfather used to sit me on his lap
“Grandson, somewhere, beyond all your tomorrows, lies a mountain.”
He never got further,

his denture glue wouldn’t allow it.
his wrinkled face wouldn’t allow it
his hairy ears wouldn’t allow it
his nagging wife wouldn’t allow it

Now I know what grandfather meant.

I think

Please don’t quote me on this

Beyond everyone lies a mountain
Not a real one, figurative
It could be love

Or drugs

Or coyote sculptures

Or cigar-store Indians

Or island tikis

We all must
climb the mountain
Bloody, briny cunts that we are
We all must transcend the monotony of the rat race
The demagoguery of life
All represented by the mountain beyond our tomorrows
Mine is made of ‘75 Chevy Camaro’s

Disney World

Let my people free,

From this horrid nothing-scape,

The continuum of shotguns,

Firing shit,

Into the heavens.

Four score and twenty years from now,

Will the cantankerous cries of the weak,

Outgrabe the unwieldy asses of the privileged?

No one can tell.

No one, that is,

But the spring peepers-

Who rest peacefully,

Quietly,

On my shoulder blades.

Water is the Curse of the Drinking Classes

Have you ever seen a man with two dicks on each dick?

I have

Have you ever seen ghosts that walk like men?

I have

Have you ever heard the smells of sages long dead?

I have

Have you ever fallen in love with something you can’t comprehend?

I have

Have you ever gleaned the teeth of the bishop?

I have

Have you ever praised the devil that mocks your life?

I have

Have you ever planted your seed in foreign soil?

I have, many times

Have you ever gyrated to the disco beat with prairie dogs and coyotes?

I have

Have you ever read true love in the pages of Dickens?

I have

Have you ever blasted snot from the caverns of denial?

I have

Have you ever plunked out fantasies of lordship on a sitar?

I have

Have you ever kissed the walrus prince?

I have

Have you ever rapped with an ancient Hindu god?

I have

Have you ever laughed at monks playing on a jungle-gym?

I have

Have you ever schmoozed about with harlots with harts of gold?

I have

Have you ever felt the breeze run through your mustache?

I have

Have you ever seen my manhood?
I haven’t