head filled with fetal eyes.
eyes sharing lips.
head helmeted with eyes.
head as a geography of pores erupting, waves
there is no part of the head that does not
heads with no non-eye relief.
eyes appearing as the only peers, the peerage
eyed & seek, the rills in the face
layered with bird heads, with ferned serpent
with eye vaginal almond floats.
stay! is to girdle as eye bands are to the
shuffle of the molting head.
granular disintegration of the tufted fabric
of the head.
larval organs dissolving into cream.
say, has that eye apple been spayed?
congeries of eye lines shrubbing into insectile-feelered
thong throng tong-drawn trowel of eyes.
art is to burgeon on its own stem beholden
the stamina of its lines.
mine composed of off-shoot eye shafts through
which I twist,
accelerating through Unica’s fractal
seemingly designed as a Mandelbrot-set zoom
in which I re-encounter infinitely what I have
if genes had faces and bodies would they twist
gripping am, can’t go on will go on,
without centerpole or central pull,
tendril limbs straying into a vanishing varnish
the human configured as part of
the threadwork of
a spontaneous robe of devolving wraiths.
creation as fission. schizogenetic genesis.
no representational nexus.
dyadic primacy of the oldest gods.
gossamer nets to entangle them
so that they ferment, fructify as fruit flies,
buried wasp queens,
millipedal elves moving away from each other
yet still attached by saliva strings, lacy
exposing the white, the gleam of never, into
no one steps twice.
sense of a living midden.
soul as the self buried and mixed with a living
fauna flora particles of an ongoing sentence:
is infinite fracture.
totems playfully wavering, as if about to shift
into double helix, to swim into the White,
to perceive, finally, the White
Something is always congealing, seeking
strata, full wet skirt,
in the cornerless sense of it,
benders, released of starch, but
the locks on
afterlife death this life
deboning the polarities,
poling with Charon in
came into the world as a sick being—in sick surroundings.
was spent in a sickbed; life was a brightly lit window.”
Vallejo: “I was born on a day when God was sick,
night’s indigo carmine lake.
with me, lung to lung. O darling, look!
Next to us, a green
is vampirizing his slumped booty!
Inger’s speckled dress, splotches roving.
hands form an oyster-gray vulva before her dead gown.
holed up in pickets, passes through
a woman’s face whose eyes for an instant
its gangrene drench.
boas by a clump of girls on a pier.
Down through brown arboreal
they stare into the Munchflow.
is the Munchflow? The fetal thrashing of
A kiss! Her face, consumed, becomes his beak.
through their fused bodies: cobweb-thin cocoons..
O anima emanating separation!
him she glides toward the shore,
hair a telephone wire that cannot be cut.
souls are like planets. Like a star that rises from the darkness
meets another star—only to disappear again into darkness—it is the
a man and woman meet—drift apart—light up in love—burn up
disappear each in their own direction.”
devil’s footprints on the bedroom ceiling. Ghosts of the utter
failure of prayer.
soft-horned snail, carrying a brothel on its back.
river encircling Millie, then Dagny, under Munch.
Who called this woman Madonna?
elsewhere eyes, a menstrual halo, cum-smeared breasts!
anxiety and illness, I am a ship without a rudder.”
on the road
in darkness oleaginous as treacle:
a car with blood-red
mahogany groin by a tree husk radiating fire,
whose root metabolism
skulls, crocodilian mulch.
with its fetal wick a burning-bush.
Snow Avenue, asparagus trees, blackening,
swirled in the caul of a wind
Laura sits locked in perpetual, unanswered, large-eyed pleading.
her, a blood flower sucks nourishment from a circular table
whose blood-red patterned cloth
resembles sections of her brain.
of a fresh dead man discovering the beyond
is this world oozing through all its pores
of sky seeping through the path
this shocked O holds his head and screams
by a sky coldly boiling with the blood of all
is intelligible, the slaughterhouse screams,
scream, your sex opens wide,
candle refueling on gusts,
flame in the trench of your sex,
shaped like a live woman holding
head, her face ocellated with screams,
scream the screwdriver of the mind
to loosen the bolt
into it like a pitiless dry well.
A dream tonight of coupled images
whirling in the circus of an empty eye,
hurling themselves against themselves to become
a forest of magnetic needles under my lids.
Everything is a door:
elephantiasis with its violet legs,
bougainvillaea’s thousand magenta stars.
I opened to the pot-headed, lordly and deathless
animals and gods.
O the breeze between! The shiver of
organs lifted out! The blind, lip-clenched
stable of the body to be filled
with solidified light!
All the gods yet to be discovered are to be
in the downward-growing tree of the mother
Her night side is the black dragon of mindless
a sleepwalking sewer of a seer,
I descend, to where the wind
and an albino bat studies
an octopus clock’s
The hour rests
on a chasm of charities.
No one ends at himself.
(Ideas ate the deities
great bladders full of bile—
sanctuary was a dung heap
the dung heap a nursery
armed ideas sprouted
ideas idiotic as deities)
We have caught up to Whitman. His hand in ours,
a Sudanese infant claw.
There is no freedom.
There is only the intensification of the instant
so that one senses forever as one lives now.
To slit open sin, to discover face-before-birth,
bog puss being, leather plumbing
in the nexus of a Her so stratigraphic
limestone and Mars pile into this vocabulary.
Tough as cross hide, the Christ script, conducted
by an iced and antlered Satan.
I lifted my face-before-birth out of its vaginal coffin,
the back of its head rich in salamander pigtails,
asphalt worms, cutthroat
eels, tubeworms that once vibrated in methane seeps.
Then I stepped into the soul pouch
as if into a uniform of water—
Sweet pea appeared, Veronica and Archie,
a flood of Toons writhing like liquid termites.
To wear oneself as other is to hybridize
a single destiny into one multifoliate, larded with aperture,
a siphon through which drips a serpent rainbow
whose center stripe is the menstrual
icing that celebrates our break with estrus.
Ah, uroboric earth linkage,
bloodstream felt as exterior congruence,
no me and nature, no you and X,
rather meanother, an
Olmec infant colossus of
symbiotic meaning cutting through
the representation shellac.
Like yaw in roll with yaw, the poem now
tintinnabulates into auto-yabyum,
happy in its vulvic cap, a six-eyed imp,
madre succulent, Sweet Pea nosy, pater free.
Prayer for Will Alexander
As those doctors invade your
their fortress of scythes
and registers, with
their light raining into
you sterility & recompense,
I pray your body responds
they dig at in you, I pray
the succubus can be removed,
that enigmatic louse with
eighty claws that
has terrorized your constitution.
I pray your ocean responds,
your oars, the whole vessel
I pray that vessel &
current move on,
move in, regeneration of
of your whale & cuspidor,
the light in your speech
dawn glory meter rise of
in the poem & ongoing