Teacher Training

Sunlight drifts away
Underground tunnels subsume the day
Drab colors roll out
across the Beast’s breast
while mute voices cry out
from abandoned soul-depths.
The Procession to Salary begins.
Marching slacks ascend stairs
parading the Great Compromise.
Howling shatters glass
from centuries past.
The clock sweeps minds up
and spins them around
dead numbers.

I land in Doughnut Land
fat tempting borderline stomachs
justification of ideologies ignoring
the illuminate sun,
Immortalized words etched on green walls
contain screaming demons
drowning out sincere voices
lost in perpetually fleeting time.
Breath burns the inbetweens
warping nothingness
with the substance
of lost dreams.
Pages turn, minds burn
screams screams screams
all I hear are screams.

Red streamers drop through the sky
Alabaster arcs form eyeless statues
Hands grapple for thick necks
Confusion glosses over eyes
turned from mirrors of love.
Digital highways clutter w/ significant/insignificant
information consuming calculating brains
spilling foreheads paints
that never find the way
to shiny dark shoes
stepping over minerals
divested of lost Earth.
Shitckicking boots
lash faces fallen into cartoons
as music rises from the ashes
in apocalyptic furor
where a remote god
is held captive
by imaginary skies.

Starlight zooms across polyhedral skies
leaving renaissance dreams
that carve science from mysticism
chemistry from alchemy
astronomy from astrology
anatomy from witch-doctors
still roaming the demon-haunted world
vaulting creationism back back back,
beasts clawing for truth,
protecting the philosopher’s gold,
fear of the unknown
surging through burnt nerves
to dark justifying brains
spilling gas, oil, chlorofluorocarbons
and toxic waste
where once ran fluid rivers
where once trees grew from breath.

Electronic devices catch electromagnetic waves
universal vibrations separate the glossy surface
from the deep explosive web
frequented by criminals, vagabonds
hybrid hackers
and stoked minds
infiltrating the mad flux
of voices vying for position
to shine baby shine
on super silicon screens.

Does Moloch really wade
across hellish waters
underneath the stratum
of deep space?

Is God aching to burst
through each soul,
or frowning in dissipate skies
or kissing the foreheads of human angels
while the masses cut him down
limb by limb
nail by nail
particle by anti-particle?

Latching onto meaning
in a world lacerating meaning
in armies of dead flies.

Cylindrical bottles spew fuzz
separating ionized chemicals
in an unapproved laboratory
run by monsters in human suits.
Runners slip
down bottomless hallways
treading through thick air
under artificial lights suspended
by planetary skies.
The talkers keep talking
chattering teeth fall out and
accumulate in gibberish mounds
rising through the far reaches
of the desert, splitting
the boundary of mystique.

Wolves howl over moons
and swallow sunshine
transmitting dreams
from evolution’s warped mind.

Sweep sweetness off the stained carpet
Butcher dead heads
spitting up cornered space
Strip materialism from the surface
and bare the soul toward God.
Jump into the abyss
because death is all there is.
Invaluable limits transport platitudes
to keep the machinery running
the clock ticking
the facade growing
tired, tired, it’s all so tired
it’s one fat balloon
floating over hollow eyes
leaking saturated fat
displacing the suddenness
of transformative instances
with the putrescent skeleton of time.

pure light

A blue ocean spills
across the living room floor
carrying a severed head
and her diaphanous body
to the stale grass
where fat black birds
feast for luminous worms
deep in rocks of earth.

Red paper fans out
across the changing sky
inducing cracker jack explosions
whose cylinders of light
contain the faces of lost poets
endlessly reciting novels
for quantum corners.

Purple smears of atmosphere
infiltrate my throat
forcing me to choke up
a monument from ancient times
divested of my gut.

It’s all happening in the sky,
the levity of souls,
the brush of mathematicians,
the never-ending dancers
and the sweetness of deep stars.

Running and jumping and flying,
that is me, no it’s a body,
flung back to earth
by an invisible lash
I can no longer circumvent.

I peer into the blue bowl of soup
where demons yank my eyes,
screams, screams,
death-defying screams
that wake up the senses
and restore pure light.

Middle Sky

The stars sleep over the Earth
and the facade of day
relegates madness
to a forgotten corner
where painters erect universes
and conformity dies.
Revolutions transpire
in tethered dreams
where men fly
disaster is common
and paupers rise
from meager beginnings
to convulsions of ecstasy.
An explosion occurs
in Middle Sky
spewing out colors
of unborn selves
and dust from other planets
for star seekers and charlatans
to collect, codify and distribute
for a modest fee.
Sweet routines are interrupted
by statistics.
Doors of death are opened
for the unknown.
Tired waters collect mysteries
and the mermaid rises
for one pair of eyes
at a time.

The Shadows hide in sewers
and suffocate drivers
forcing their minds
to careen off the road.
Guts are stabbed
by long swords of glass
inducing endless vomiting
of processed sugars and fat
as addiction is curbed
but not defeated.
Two animals fuck
and reproduce!
Carcasses are transformed
to blood and juice
and gnarling teeth.
An idea occurs
to forever change the world
that loses its impetus in a notebook
that is recycled
with the other trash.
The birds call the humans,
but the humans don’t respond.
Humans impress each other
with silicon devices
unable to resist
the temptation to play God.
Religion usurps and is usurped by
the magic of Science
and its next of kin
Knowledge.
Everyone wants to play.
The shapes, the images,
the sensory perception,
all run their course,
and like the butterfly,
flourish, fly
and die.