I am bothered by the billboards,

telling my back-mind what to do at 4:30 on a Tuesday
morning. I feel hammered by the spike-driving captivity fighters; jovial
squandering imperial madhouse money machine lust machine and
soap is hopeless in pure light.

Now, in the blink of an instant,

eight-arm durga riding tangerine tiger through time’s blue hue
like a ghost moling throughout the entire dirt of being
dancing in soma-song circle outside naked
knowing more than ever and knowing nothing at all
in happy madness.

Now, shout in ecstatic language:

childlike Pythagorean rational my self bearing
realigned ancestrally channeling creation
two-headed serpentine blistering hallelujah tambourine
six letter jumping jack torso-faced, thousand-eyed
whispering devourer
slipping on rings of magic science
bobbing for worlds in the tin-sided omniverse
jumping in puddles of time in the forest worlds
exploring the crawlspace of subconscious past-life
angel kid whose blood pours in slurred oracles toward
big stick fallout shelter fat cat who’s
regretting the bombs once trailed by confidence
marking the planet with lines meaning nothing
is nothing if nothing is anything?

Now see in circles the comets recycle exhuming heart from murky

shared shamanic suffering a terrible long natured Ra almighty
blinding only those who stare, and
the mycelium society—welding no arms—lost under George
his minions discussed in other words
as the warheads destroyed the war
and the rain turned purple with thousands of winged swine.

Now standing in backwater flats in the darkest alleyway in the looking

handing out freedom in containers for sanity (what little is left)
now in a tent with midnight lamps burning
on sofas speaking of a mind beyond a mind beyond
smiling in heartwarming friendship sharing laughter
tapping the electronic pads in a love-circle
with good inattentions under a large light organ
and all the well wishers—hey
have you seen these I’m a monk do you have any money?
—speed off cackling in cart chase
throwing up dust behind a world of shapeless illusion.

Now! Raise high arms to symbolize praise

we only are fractions in this crazy backwards tributary
arbitrarily pumping oil ex machina,
so break my art with a candy cane whistle
shoot my mind with a blackberry comb
eleven rolls over to make room for ten
and we all roar together
commercial two-eyed Jupiter reptile descendants,
one more consciousness as old as rhyme.
The offense rests,
and I continue…

Now, realizing smallness from an airplane window

wise agers listen intently patient with us ever so
the kid whips out some gadget and dials up the innerwar
we’re nothing without our juice they say
real ones slap skins in funny rhythms
and sink back into the reality behind
with no words left to express
this ever strange cognition.

Now, in the green-lit room perfumed girls dance clumsily in tight skirts

to doo bop breaks
shady fellows slunched smoking in corners
rooms of banjos and djembes
long line for bathroom
the wine bottle kid vomits with rainwater hairstyle
marker-faced in elated one life party rage—now
in between place among the rafters
so quiet you can hear the trees drink and feel them grow.
This is their world, too.

Now! Extreme novelty approaching, poverty encroaching

ignition Yin energy milk mother rising
love-minded life-feeler shadow-herder earth-worker
wisdom whisperer sister brotherer jack hammerer
low sparkler wish wonderer dude bringer atom tingler
shaker up drumbeat we all die too bad
dancing in the sky with everybody
a beautiful passerby left these keys for you in the attics of
unconscious eternity
laughing once laughing twice laughing, laughing gone…

Now! In sex being life worship,

we stand
howling away the injustices of humanity
the cruelty of a dying nation
screaming for all that ever was, ever suffered, ever loved /
all merciless compassionate shit
just faceless nouns eked into existences by some cosmic shell of
streaming previously unknown colors into primal heart-feeling
vibrating low enough to stay together separately
building complex pyramids toward graceful sky
flying holy intense astral ladder structure godhead mastermind
exploding sinusoidal climax screaming fractal shattering.

I now see other nations, glory warriors heeling mercy-words

Herod-like abstruse mission-hearted macrocosm
gray open-headed writhing in blue whale freedom wave
driving wild-minded screaming through the forests of Brendiban
jumping through the open window of illumination
riding on the high-crests of novelty
old sannyasin breathing the Great Rhythm
contemplating the night sky through associations of words
wandering the infinite caverns of the mind
dreaming prophecy through numeric logos
now a peaceful and ready
spirit pushing the void
falling silent in the gathering dusk
releasing from happy insane-room demon-headed trouble world—
God knows the last time I had a moment in which to be.

—first appeared in The Nomad, 2008

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