Stalin Never Once Said Netflix

neither has my daughter ever said militia

except when she’s drunk, talking to Melissa

while living among Aleuts

who had no written language

the Russian saint assigns Cyrillic to their audible thoughts

principal

accountant/nail lady

pool cleaner/lawyer

fry cook and I

agree

on one thing

so broadly stroked we

don’t even notice

to encode the sound of a thought

that exists in the mind of an Aleutian

ease on down the slavic slide

where

palm tree and Dairy Queen

translate paradise
cold hurricane, soft-serve

Boca Raton, and 
that’s what I like about Texas

allright already,

with the fixed meanings

what can’t keep up with our

profound expectorate

he disappears when they pass the plate

Young Jimmy Spatula
flushes again

as a courtesy
to himself.
Beast reverb in
this blessed restroom

let us turn now to

page 22-eeee-leven,

for it is well with my soul

dampened by the wall

lingering in his stall

he hums along.

a charity to hum,

who never yet kneaded strange flesh.

paying himself a confidence

for,

never, 
even thru bad skin,

had he groped for bones to clamp his hands

hips and

never, like rinse water,

did he cup the skull of another

as a confidence

let him

touch her lip

stick to hymnal

pages. let him draw the message

to all the girls he's yet to kiss

starring rice, with very special guest...

I’m certain when it’s Ray Charles.
rice bathing in its own milky cloud.
that I can’t
but i will
or i won’t
cascade minor chord!
descend! step over the hint 
of victim emblazoned in highway orange.
End road work

The Girl-Child featuring an all-star lineup including Rick James

Beautiful freak of nature,
if nature = that
which most consider
“the way things should be”
I think we’re good on freak.
(thanks Chic & Rick)
Analysis of America
’s Got Talent
turns dark on a dime.
She laughs after me
in herself
like a survivor
genuinely freaked
at this new depth she has plunged.
10,000 years ago
she might have been branded
a cynic
and I would have admonished her with
multiple listenings
of Herb
Alpert & Tijuana Brass covering
The Price is Right theme song
until she submits,
on record:
I like hopeful people

Three Day Weekend featuring Link Wray & his Raymen

Hurricane Harvey Eve.
Worried about the beating
Corpus is in for.
Patch along San Antonio to Austin
will absorb its 
slow motion renaissance.
and Houston. Fuck.
We’ll get some weather
down here
but...

Teacher across the hall bitching about school getting cancelled:
Means my kids are out of school too,
she says, wait
oh yeah,
you like your kids.
I do. 
I don’t mind.
Not a fan of the board games though.

I dread that lull
deep in the afternoon
when I’ve chosen the
perfect patch of wall
for staring
and I hear
the half-assed 
last-ditch call to scrape
the vein of diversion.
Hey dad?
play this board game?
that reveals its worth
by its intact shrink wrap?
With its fucking byzantine rules?
And zero payoff?
Dad?
Parental guilt kicks in.
I’m busy children,
clicking on pop-up ads

Certainly
I would like to harness the power
and energy of this hurricane
and ram it straight up someone’s ass.
Problem is who?
You get one chance with a weapon of this magnitude.
One chance, and I wouldn’t want to waste it on a grudge fuck.

I mean, damn. 
If I had a hurricane in my pocket?
It would need to reduce. 
Not in its massive force but in size. 
Like a hurricane bouillon cube,
that I could slip into someone’s Lipton
Cup of Soup.
But again.
Size matters.
So I’m at an impasse.

Anyway,
Link Wray, 
play us out.
Alright boys. 
Rumble, onna-1,2,3,4

nutcracker

Daddy are you ready? I’m gonna go.

I’m gonna do it fast.

out there was a picture of him

with two of his closest friend’s

cocks draped across his forehead

because he passed out

with his boots 
on

or around defendant's 9th birthday,

the landlord would store the foreclosed

inventory of an adult book store

in the basement of his step-father’s pizzeria

I’m gonna show you somethin, daddy. You ready?

it was the two ladies

thumbing phones

sipping Zinfandel while

the gentlemen finished

making minor adjustments

on an illegal transaction

(over plates of spicy noodles!)

Eww, my God, she said

the other confirmed the cut of his jib

Watch out, daddy

I’m a squirrel!

I’m gonna get your nuts!

reunion

 Screaming karaoke

until the room is empty

wall to wall

stained and bruised

you engorge

the florid marks

of your bondage

The ecosystem changes down below

in the creek

running shallow

underneath

cathedral ceiling cypress trees

coiled coven snake roots

exhale the stink of decomposing

creatures

fingerling fish

nip dead

skin from my crazing feet

little Vincent lends me his goggles

to retrieve your glasses.

flew off your turn

on the rope swing,

that does not get more complex with age.

we think,

how can we protect this one now

how can we with what little we have

to protect our own

memoir of a footnote

she restrained a fugitive bull
walrus at the cincinnati zoo
with an old pair of pearl
spider stockings.

she preferred silk
as she preferred
the term criminal
to inmate.

a stab
at country music stardom
forever branded her a muse
pure blasts
of immortal morse code

embedded in vinyl records,
spun in the shadows
cast by marquee crooners

 her trick?
slipping pictures
into books
she’d read

worked less and less
as the bookcases
devolved
into wall paper.

getting out of bed—
like unpressing
a hand print
from cement—

upset
the dust
gathered
on her vanity.

payphone voice collection

evening

Motherfucker. you

take life too serious.

you know?

it’s po-

etic sure

but how am I supposed to respond to you?

she came.

again and again

didn’t she?

How was it?

just to visit.

told me about

finding you

in the bathroom.

all she said was, Brown

v. Board of Education

could’ve been

less condescending

and you’re not some serial killer geek.

even if, still

plenty of

inhumanity

beneath you.

yes, but that’s just natural.

death is natural.  so

technically, sure

we’re all dead,

showing up

Half-pathetic

unprepared

shamed by the same

village idiot

who coronates that poor goat

all night long

believe me,

you don't know a fraction

take the heavy lifting,

divide lack of imagination

by restricted vision and

Bingo!

a new color scheme on the

walls of the system

just about ready.

as in Israel and Palestine

are just about ready

why would you hold your breath?

it’s just a figure of speech.

I do too read.

but how am I supposed to respond to you?

broken-hand-bills

whisper
thru drywall in 
the candy striped cabin.
stick it in
high pitch
wad it up for later
under the table
unloading Albert Camus
under-roos
fluffy and warm

perched on a flat bed stoop,
gift of gab
answers
rainbows to riddles,
works his cock into the equation
for eternal questions
of want and woe.
a soiled-soul
cleanser

a ginsu-dragon,
(signature hold: suffocating embrace)
butcher of tightly conducted adventure excursions,
is cut down to
one act.
the sharp wings of Mothra
upstaged his orchestra
blowing lace smithereens

present this flyer for 10% off tastefully blessed partial pardon panties