Body Map

She traced the continents
time had mapped on my forehead.
My nose yielded its secrets of
rough crags and hidden crevices.

Her tongue traveled to the delta of my lips
and explored the rivers flowing across my tongue.
She slid down my neck with the help of her nose,
her mouth left a trail of lip locks as postcards.

On the plateau of my chest she lingered for a while,
inhaling the smell of civilization, hearing the basic rhythm of life.
She traversed the smooth plains of my stomach like a seasoned traveler,
sheltering for a moment in the shadows of my navel.

My back became an open ground
where she played games with her fingertips,
fighting battles with stiffened muscles, and
feeding the frenzy of rippling skin.

Every measured movement of hers
opened up my flesh like an atlas.
Her dimples gave me direction, her lips latitude,
while her hands struck boldly across my southern shyness.

I could not stop her probing fingers
from proclaiming freedom for my senses.
Nor could I resist the soft music
her slippery skin played on mine.

In her naked embrace,
I was a nation without borders,
I was a country without a capital,
I was a world without war.


only intermittency will have been washed

you are responsible while I am in repose

the picture on the wall occurs to me

I branch when you agree to cease extending past
the fragile opus of my winking sops up royalties

do these gloves belong to you just when the copasetic integers
begin retaining water

we have happened to be free by rote instead of purposely

the watch I'm on repairs itself

and brittle tapshoe branches knotty as retorts
come hither in a rush

belonging is a science turned to art

thou art my central melody

will you in turn defrost me



Like a bullet
or a bald man,


the quick, fastening
wing to sky,

sleepless, seized
hostage speed

the body
to its stunning


Prodigal Journey

From the west,
the heart speaks,

its voice changing
on the journey

east through desert
into sand and bone.

When it finds
a river swims,

drinks, purifies
it's vision-

its afflictions

to the faithful salmon,
hunting bear and

cedar cones, then

the nervous deer,

the waving fields of corn
recognize the accent

of its origon, its slow
and burning song.

Whose ear abandons
innocence; what leaf

yields and falls

what home prepares
it's entryways, its rooms

for the returning
of the prodigal?


BREAK BACK SWITCH TURN (messy version)

Break Back switch turn don't dis me with culture man dis logic dis function able dislocate pirouette 2slip. U who we aren't andable 359 fuck off we live here .4 camera obscura dreamdemocracia i dreamed i live here (ochre) Africa San Francisco dis locate shun knee and 1 2 3 pelt order preraphaelite words that go with porter clerk luggage residual central park fuck me in the tree light i am a virgin to your sting i 2 cottage cheese skinny milk am implicit and immaculate to your touch I suffer shit ;-) pornographic blueprint elbow tibia gonads arabia art dislocates from immortality these seeds are dead in science I am suffragette greece slips covert nouveau essence power declines self strippage potent decline wane fore wax we'll pine too soon art is shit reason is crap poetry is bullshit975684181 deciding is the bee resolution and ignorance is green triangles my angle, doppelganger, shapeshift heirogly[ph1 to curry the mustard cut the fan you'll trolley your goods to the edge of the night the reason is unreasonable words are untenable western inviable hieroglyphics (dada) written word (fawnever) U notice the way the poet uses his own experiences the crises and psychotic normalities to cry episodes of what he doesn't value as literature I'm saying something like an ASBO i fucked off the metrical foot crescent's unreadable poesy the end of poetry/sign plus sign plus sign 11his poetrys to long for a fixed faulty logic I should complain to the writer fancy asking a reader to puzzle all this one could almost take it to be an absence of identity who d'ya call 'ed me? footnote fuckage penile u say me? talk in English sister email the author and fa fa fro complain does he think this is music or summut?A deity of the female form because we couldn't suffer it is not enough respect for allofus dis united and, by trial confused


my apologies for post below but i am dealing with a lot of (pardon again) shit so if i comes across (oh well) like a bastard please simply understand...


Mercury, To Accept It
inference snow. purple an imagination
into a conscious burnt. draped seas
center power as from sparkling absence.
wrapped integrate mandible speaks five.
miseries that fiery end of no.

Past Noetics
rhymes deeper to swim. morass veins.
so before alchemy. acrostics template our
disease as time. nothing explodes as
ever. hydra counts to sexy destroy.
released twos stabilizing illusion.

Indulge Chained To
fantasy concrete versus red. born
septic clotted into. stars praying as text.
truncate shreds that mordant twist.
wavering electron blood. synthetic sound.
mimic cells that dream methodology.

greetings as/is members!

i must admit that i am (pardon) fucking annoyed by bill marsh's (now deleted) last post and pris' note to me below...i don't really ever recall bill requesting that i delete him from as/is...pris really i received two or three emails from you i was going to delete you this morning...

let it be known...if you have an as/is issue concern question whatever please don't post it here email me ( i will solve as soon as i possibly can...please be patient...if i don't respond immediately (it seems that some would like for me to drop everything else in my life) feel free to bug me within reason...

thanks a million!


From the Levee, We Watched

the sculler's boat, carving
razored waters; the wake delayed
behind the oar thrust, streaming
like hair of a submerged girl.

The tenuous nature of wood,
fragile as pod; repelling the weight
of black water catching the hull,
heavy as paste, yet slips

through like an oiled sword.

The muscled-back rower
flexes, a butterfly testing
its shoulders, his arms poised
forward, baiting the rhythm

of pull with his chest,
shoves out, thighs tensing
like bullets, heaves rearward
and pauses, the world

and the rower stand still
for a moment as the boat
glides away.

reach'd down eventually

a broad" clarify bracket'd rises "getting production
'sumption 'bition confused" (pale swallows flight throat
down if) fast to effect arms around blanket shoulders (light
breaking tongue lifts lip there) bus ride main past first "ah, honey"
(rising ambitious (tion) held chins 'speptic was dawn twists turn(s)
back away under't)

Call for Andrew (not a poem)

Pris, you've been removed!

cheers, harry

Hi Andrew
My server has been iffy and I'm not even sure that the note I sent to you got to the correct email address. As I've told you before, I've not been able to participate in this group blog for health/limited energy reasons and I need to have my membership deleted. I can't update to the new because of the numbers of posts in this blog, which is in my family of blogs. I have to go through the 'switch over' proceedure now every single time I try to get to my dashboard for my personal blog, just to be told I can't be switched over yet because of the number of posts in this blog.

My email address is in my profile if you need to contact me about this. Thanks for asking me to be a member. Wish I'd been able to be part of this.




God Among Insects

A man can walk
on all fours if

he chooses;
no more noble



sweet fruit.


Sleepless Piano

"Liar, lawyer - mirror, for you what's the difference? ...You must of been high." --Tool

Gabcast! White Rabbit - *BLACK HOLE* #1

Sleepless Piano

Another sleepless
Piano angel
Secret musing
What is word
When the world should
be dreaming...

Outsider (zero, zero)
On a Black night
Looking through my glass
Another Fault line mind.

Do you play piano too?

Rose resistance
--one petal at a time--
Can't believe

The keys strike
The parlor grand plays
sound of my off tune lullaby
Barely audible
Behind the sound
Of Tortured

Baby, baby, (please don't)
It's been
Two hours
Forty seven minutes
and counting....

And I gotta get some


baclanthracis error (misstain live) // [runran adams remix]

is your therapist deaf

are your pralines raw
does your vocabulary have antlers
do you rever(s)e your ba(l)dness
are your memories relaxed
is your remorse inert
will your off be sprung
do your enigmas come presolved
is your redemption curious

Cunningly hook a way in: pull to
land upon a shore of conscious
reasons why the world turns on
its axis, soul released in Tallaght
two days after you walked in. From
street to hospital death bed only a
week ago.

Today is your funeral and we share the
weight of uncle from alter to hearse.
A man of small stature - your mass
easily borne by us uncle, brother, father
and son.

"Does Mr Mooney know Barney?"

..the number of lipstick
in bags thrusting forward
is up on our mother's time
when bags were smaller with
less lippy inside to item, spring
form pictures, fix the eye I suppose
is viewed as an absence or image
left - rusting by exit - gone.

"Dear do we know?"

..He lived before Nemo swam.
and vanquished him. Exiled in the
attic. Extinct his trill of love's now
silent on tape in a box of memory
fading up creaky stiff steps, unused.

Imagination assemble the hand of reality.
Invisible craft this crumbling eye seers
the flawed form of an imprecise mind
resting on a tablecloth. Uncle John swept

asunder in love, return and tell us of

Calliope Nerve VII: The Troupe of Calliope

"Poetry is boned with ideas, nerved and blooded with emotions, all held together by the delicate, tough skin of words." --Paul Engle

Calliope Nerve Part VII: The Troupe of Calliope featuring Melissa Lebruin author of The Rebellious Escapist is free of charge and available now.

Halfway There

Hands are wicked
Thrusting against
Bedside manner
Cigar after, ashtray shocker
Swing some of that clear
Bed poison
Rotten afterglow
Some post coital heartbreak

They were meeker times
Unwelcome suicide
Tempest machines
Unplugged for youth(er) years
We'd swing into metal screens
Halfway there

Stealthy villain–child
Who said she'd be the one
To disappear
Break into the giddy abortionist
Maybe like sunset
She'll wait for me

Slick like the head chip
Fractures we always revisit
Though I never promise
I'll get there first

--Melissa Lebruin

Other authors include J.D. Nelson, Scott Marshall, Billy Jno Hope, and me, I'm Nobius Black.

Calliope Nerve features poetry, short lit, and odd bits in a wide range of styles. Back issues are available. To order this issue send your snail mail address to nobius at gmail dot com. Email for submission info. (We are always looking for talent.) Internet link trades, advertising, and flyer trades available.

To support Calliope order your Amazon products via my web log: White Rabbit - *BLACK HOLE*.

Name your muse! Calliope Nerve.



When I accept that fire is missing,
the unbroken, breaking, the tone of two
voices whispering prayer; this means

this will be my abiding companion,
patron of my inconscient communion
with waiting, the timely possession
of heart and reserve.

Are we cursed to hurry towards empty,
rushing through the sluggish vein,
neglecting maturity and patience
to spoil what remains?


I taught myself
how to open

a flower, gingerly

the resinous shroud-

see how tightly
the petals resist me,

how quickly
they shrivel

and fade?


Virgil la la

Ear of my songstress speak lucid and loud
of what goes in - paint a collage of melodies

pluck the love string to sing of side kicks
who seized an asylum - wearing grey and

writing patient-reports. With the door open
invite a hospital ambience to filter in, beckon
back now to Seacombe landing stage near shop

centre. Farming chap Virgil his slave Alexander
regulati poetae of Dante - left Mantau near Andes in
Cisapline - Gual. Locked like a warden or crab's
claw constant in clamping and cast the best step
on a pay per keyword campaign.

Demobbed victors who vanquished Brutus et Cassius
seized his estate when Mark Anthony was ousted at
Actim. Octavian Emporer Agusta. La cushla Rome lad
and man let risk a crack constant spelt plain. Taut
his quest list of nom de plume phrase and moniker
forward. Draw word. Tell strangers wide self-spelling
increased invisibility with a cost per click love
trial and error fluid dynamic nature - specialist
team - monitoring popular and updated mean killer
behavior this cyclical book blurb of similar
phrasing specific to the eye.

What ox wonks a fictional pattern resolute in Vegas
delivers faith, Bell Air or Bombay in threadbare
existence. Plough home, up-tilt, grow and twice in
shadow - it's length a burning sun - limitless love
crazed pruning wit half hanging your vine leaf. Rush
or osier weave elsewhere - scorn anew - tell Clement
scion of pagans who rails a career in soul thundering
man king and wife - be good queen in mythopeic reality.

Virgil be he a la low whey may hawk wind cant in a boy
loving man chasing his share of proof wit or misery.

Alighieri will fiction him, Ovid - Lucan or Statiusk if
the riff on Virgil, Theocritus template inventor new
Horace and Varius Red were agents d'affair.

A boar ahead - the she-goat Sirce - myth in loose flower
wild crystal, fly - spring this ear and infatuate gods.

Feng Shui fuss pot who helped finish the Aeneid you thought
worthless Virgil dynamic and natural. Dardan Paris his wood
home - Pallas towers - the over all hand built before delight
grim wolf the she-goat persuing wanton thought phrasing weight.

Alexis his gift specific specialist team of trial, error and
monitor popular fluid behavior - letter empty the alphabet
local warm - hospitably expend as little as possible. Be un-
wasteful when dreaming - indoors and conscious to simple cosmic
code of environmental reality - work a permanent mode of
economy and move as little as physically you can during time
made belief to be so - on a threadbare existence among
carefully wished romance we slide inversive - blight but few.
Say a majority dimension is wrong all its way.

Observe forelight's figure in flight - wing - mother this
polished, solo, the brilliance of its own flood. Chemist
invalidate a dry coat see menace fleet Domingo on waking lean
daylight brush. Memory catapult, be robed atop the one ring
chair of asymmetry inaccurate with learned guesswork direct,

plain lit offshore a flood for a singular impression mid
morning early on feather short shoulder care time draw easily
smooth afternoon exercise amount to crosshairs grief-free
commencement. Pry out fixtures plunk of serenity put on fold
various gray airs smoothed each afternoon. Time impose divide
parenting default to gradual handsome product in sleight
appearance. Gander from a certain place. Away. Linger ahead
queen - she your dream is unlocked honest songstress - mock a
lever for lovers, bingo with mon Mor - woman conveyor belt of
verse defend here.

Four poetea had Dante – guide through his underworld. He had not
Wikipedia but dreamt a library of Alexandria - razed by flame - now
burns through fire optic route. Electronic knowledge, intellect tra
la la.


soon it will be too late


I am of the Filidh

I am of the filidh
armed only with words
lead to more words
building, like bricks
one by one on top of each other.

A wall of words surrounding
like a butress.

I feel that galaxy of words out there
moving closer
edging nearer and nearer with every
passing moment, tumbling from the
mouths of genius and idiot alike

telling me
that some thing needs to be said.
Need to be articulated, before the tidal
wave of mediocrity
threatening to overwhelm the illusion
upon this tiny little complacent shore of safety
can be held back

kept in check
and tossed right off before the crucial moment is
upon us.

That pure indefinable moment which tips the balance
of all known existence to send us into a freefall
of questioning and collapse.

And let me tell you this friends, buddies, matey
boys and girls. Once that bubble's burst, there is
no going back.
No way
You're having a laugh, surely, if you think for a
second, a nanosecond, that there's any going back
once that moments gone.

It aint coming back sunshine, so wake up and smell
your life before bye-bye time is over and you're
spending the rest of eternity wondering on the brief
flash of life you once had.

You'll be in good company all right. What with Elvis
and Plato and everyone in between. You'll soon cop on
suss it out, get to know the score.

All those perplexing little questions you never found
the answers for whilst you were too busy cleaning
your teeth, wiping your arse or sitting on a bus stuck
in traffic with the grey concrete walls creeping in on

All those can be answered, when your hanging around like
a bad smell, waiting for the end of time to make an
appearance, like the ghost of your long gone Granny.

And when that happens you will know every single moment
of your time inside out, like the back of your proverbial
hand. And the wall you built brick by brick will be so
familiar, you'll be screaming so loudly, you'll drown in
the very voice your sick of constantly hearing.

And you won't be able to stop, because, after an infinity
of absolutely nothing at all, you will be, a thousand
million, trillion bits of little bitty bollocks shitting
your way through the eye of the tiniest, sharpest needle
in the history of eternal misery.

And there'll be no one there to be swapping your shopping
anecdotes with. No one there to be washing your dishes
or telling you to get right off. You will be all alone
like the fat, ugly spotty faced cripple kid stuck to the
wall at a Friday night dance in the middle of wide open

And no one'll be looking over because the wall you built
brick by brick
will be your own private monument to you and your shitty
little life.

But then, from somewhere, out of nowhere, you will find
yourself lying on soft sand under the milken sky of a
warm summer night, the gentle silken breeze caressing your
naked skin with the delicacy and delight of Romeo and
Juliet's first brush of each other's bodies.

And the sound of ocean crashing waves, soothing and sending
you off up in the air to drift asleep on a central heated
cloud, floating along to the land of tranquillity and smiles
like a sigh of sweet contentment. And Bingo. You're back

reborn, ready to start all over again. Give it another crack
of the whip, bite of the cherry, roll of the dice.

Come on, come on. Lets get moving. Grip your toothbrush, clean
your teeth, wipe your arse, push your way to the front of the bus

Fuck that old one she can stay stood up the exercise'll do her good.
Come on come on, lets get ready to rustle up the beat and rumble
and show the world, who's boss today Boyo.


precious few egregions

Among carefully wished romances slides inversive blight, but fewly. I would say that the majority (always wrong?) dimensions its way into foreflight. I would observe, also, the wingspan of an other figured as this moth(er). Solo, polished, flooded with a brilliance of its own that dries in flight. Only chemistry invalidates the fleet coat. Only the seen menace of domingo passes. Each day on waking, there is light brushed lean. Each memory, deliciously inaccurate with guesswork in the learned direction of the floodlit plain. Already I am offshore from the singular impression made in short one feather at a time. The rings of care draw symmetry before deciding on asymmetry. One's shoulder easily amount to grief atop free agent grieving. Catapult is what commencement exercises pry out of the fidgeting berobed fixtures plunked atop gray folding chairs. The various crosshairs impose a gander at each individual. Morning has smoothed out the early afternoon each time. As parenting defaults to product, lingering in sleight of handsome.

Put-on airs, appearance of serenity eventually from a certain place away


from "addiction"


This is how I like to do my junk, she said tangled up in innumerable faces with syringe in hand Have you ever tried it? She looked into my eyes as she placed it between her lips and leaned slightly towards me in a state of alien serenity. It was not a woman's grip spiked me. It wasn't even human.

to false poison I've made mythological tortures my resting-place and domain. Where now, mistress. I'm trying to see it clearly in the dark, Is suffering a privilege? flames and steady terror of sunken stars submissive winds sweeping the limit of the forest. the sensual creature chased from its cave rooms without meaning. His need was to exist and to move. robbed of self-possession with closed eyelids--a head that seemed to be touched with blue and streaked with quarrelling impulses gave to the mind a feeling of being composed of metals.

With the help of a torch, showed The chemicals I was putting in my body on a regular basis stopped working. a dark thing wanders in vinous intoxication i had taken up my binoculars while we talked. unsettled clouded judgment I didn't tell you I had been struck at the distance by certain faculties as the bodily eye is not accustomed to. For some minutes stood without speaking, looking out in all directions over the country. I am not disclosing any trade secrets too far gone even to communicate during dark-room seances.

in narrow chambers whose knots fasten me to all sorts of unutterable towering piles. I perceived vapours rolling between my body and the ceiling like a caterpillar. the adaptation of my innards to the vast processions consumed detonates all over in great light of being torn open. sleep I scarcely knew and clasped hands and heart-breaking. I felt that it wasn't going away this phenomena of mind and body.


"Autumn is coming," she said, "Things will end badly, my friend," she said. the nights are buried upright in the rooms fold around with drops of agony on my sex half of hell, half of violence behind the roses in innumerable faces see myself capsize....the ringletted white head of clouded judgment sucks my soul through bramble bush sewers pursues me through dark leafy paths. my Heart to palpitate, & such a rope descended from the ceiling. am telling her of my childhood that which repels others, attracts in the meadow of intense light of shedding tears. This is how I like to do my junk, she said tangled. In hours of bitterness I dare not lift up my electrocution up my parisian shit ante. Which devil was it gave the death rattle of insane maracas dance of days. the lightning-like flashes of Weeping under a smoking heap of me dusty chaired a derangement, an utter abuse myself to stay free. such a dreadful abuse of self. collapsed in the dark armchair the more cruelly the better. all these strange tendencies With jugs of wine in the bloodied by the whiskey taken out of taken out of I was seduced sinking into a nondescript killing my self. robbed of self-possession whipped so hard that the blood flowed. derived from an aesthetics of my danger another self alien unguarded a feeling of being composed of infinitely violent raptures.The atmosphere is heavy with the odor of flowers and of your my body my body mine is my weapon and kissed the cold lips is yours is your weapon in me.


The chemicals trade my body my processions the shit it gave the death composed in sweeping touch quarrelling rolling between I felt that palpitate, & danger a feeling of being whose knots fasten tears. This is how my dare creature chased from its innards great light sleep insane maracas seduced atmosphere heavy flowers stars to move. blue and streaked hands clouded judgment my meadow of junk, alien unguarded weapon in me.

human. mistress. looking out too far gone attracts intense light taken self. flames sunken the sensual cave rooms the adaptation of paths. another infinitely violent odor and faculties narrow chambers to lift killing yours and leaned and spiked me. some minutes stood in all my smoking in the bloodied out Things she sucks my hard poison binoculars clouded judgment not disclosing any bramble bush made mythological terror my country. the nights the rooms fold violence With innumerable faces taken up see heap of heart-breaking. sad. Weeping dusty whiskey serenity. woman metals.

With body buried upright in sewers parisian wine she said it? She looked into abuse the forest meaning exist and showed my body my body syringe impulses gave seances.

perceived vapours tangled. In hours of devil closed eyelids--a head being torn open. going childhood under cold self-possession composed help in telling electrocution ante. my weapon lips see clearly to communicating towering piles. clasped bitterness self-possession whipped self limit of need was robbed capsized....the blood aesthetics of raptures.

to submissive winds the thing wanders the drops of agony of Heart to rope nondescript hands towards distance had to. dark-room said collapsed the more suffering dark away and half sinking into junk, stopped working. not accustomed to behind dark ceiling. lightning-like flashes of tendencies Have you end derangement, dreadful in the dark of vinous intoxication sex rattle like eyes state of alien bodily eye of body.

Autumn is dance of days. better. all these strange placed tortures my feeling of being phenomena of disease.


a polaroid of pain i've kept bedside for what seems a decade of painful. painful---wheelchair brother self rolled to suicide shallow pond rust stained black hands face down algae. painful. images grow larger there's a light on pasted to bourbon label. painful when should be doing something better. painful the pistol in the back of the caddy scalding hot painful. his son stuck a knife in his back painful. painful. panic insomnia planet ten plateau of painful when thought too hard and long in manic ballet of ears bleeding painful. painful the abuse thrown into gorgeous faces the invention of enemies in the painful. the apparition. painful. drank cancerous morphine syrup he died younger and stupid. sorry always for strong lungs. painful. painful more painful when the substance is fondled like a penis in the increasing dark. attention deficit disordered room painful painful. painful in public humiliation painful.

back of the caddy scalding morphine syrup died young stupid my friend she dropsa rope that the devil gave rattle. wine in the bloodied flowers and rust stained black hands face down algae. hard and long in manic ballet of substance disordered room painful painful. painful roses in innumerable faces my soul through which I like to abuse myself to stay free. such blood flowed. derived from a decade of wheelchair bourbon pistols. hot painful panic insomnia planet the invention. sorry always for fondled end badly, agony on my sex Heart to repel others, attracts the smoking nondescript painful. label. painful when should be painful. painful. ears bleeding painful. enemies in public humiliation painful.

Autumn is behind the bramble bush sewers pursue me shedding tears. dare not lift up my derangement, the more cruelly the better. get into an aesthetics of infinitely cold lips rolled to painful when thought too painful. attention deficit myself capsize....the ringletted white head of clouded junk, she said tangled. dusty chaired a dreadful abuse of self. self-possession whipped so hard danger another in me. a polaroid of pain i've something better. painful son stuck the apparition with his blade. painful. drank cancerous strong nights buried upright in the rooms descended from the ceiling. am telling her my parisian insane maracas dance strange tendencies taken out of atmosphere heavy with the odor pasted to ten plateaus abuse thrown into gorgeous faces like a bitterness the shit of me collapsed in the dark armchair. robbed self alien unguarded feeling your weapon kept bedside for the painful. lungs. painful. painful more painful through dark childhood of electrocution. the lightning-like flashes of all seduced sinking violent raptures.


born poor needs

charity begins
to chafe
her until
midnight turns to
her whole day
a sullen mode
seen from
the window


Everything Bless?

A dark house means nothing. I soak in the gloom minding dark things as new year's eve undulates.
A disturbance outside. A rapid knock on the front door out of oblivion. I feel my fate change. The Heineken trembles in my hand. I part the dark as the knocking gets desperate. It hurts to get to the other side.
He bleeds like a flood. His naked torso riddled with gashes. A short mad thug. He begs me for some kind of salvation. I can't make him enter. Something sinister dances between us. I sip the Heineken.
He convulses spraying blood. The beer screams in my stomach. A new wind blows backward from the future. He sniffs the air like a jackal.
“Everything bless?” I inquire as two other thugs emerge from the dark street.
I smash the bottle into his face killing 2006.

Billy Jno Hope


finding solace in wine

prolonged absences

wherever he was, she was
always in this thoughts

you & yr
distant perspective.

it was reduced to ashes

fore the atrocities began

the horrified

it became clear

at his request.


Flesh Hooks

more than broken glass
ejaculating blood

flies in the love dish

banging windows grind
my phantom teeth

washing machine hisses
the insult rolls back in

the oven slaves
with a wooden keeper

graffiti fridge frozen
to the odor of empty

refugee bed type
clothes jasper skye kingdom

mad love shotguns
for glistening shark teeth.

Billy Jno Hope

quit joshing this near the manure

implicit gravitas unleashes as you were from the meticulous endowment that propels a wraith out of mere stitch. is that your faultline or mere cinders after grackle call to various imposters? the sheets are all untied. the dreams vie for indelicate emporia. recall the window feed? the dreaded deep end? the dependable mobility of stun guns pointed at dry laundry where the sky becomes a sure division problem? whose story is the one about the tentative messiah grappling for a job description without exclamation points? who tries to multiply a posse times collective nouns endorsed by magistrates? some clip art looks best in the rain. some rain looks best in situ. and the snow light has to be the prettiest young blue I've yet inculcated into breathful and found selves, your own among them.

Untitled (Crescent/Juicy Carolina)


the hangman always youtubes twice

in "second life"
convicts are
festively noosed
per half dozen

demagogues suggest youtubing
is the
efficient and
popular deterring edutainment

©the hangman always youtubes twice; Dreaming in Neon 2007


light bulb

get to the sun
stretch the sky
with a zen light bulb
i trigger catharsis
in the blades of my soul
we are doomed
if we blink

Billy Jno Hope