Initiation

.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Blood in:
 
 
 
 
so daft in my grave,
 
a fresh-cut flesh-nut
slips & falls
from proverbial vein-
 
my sleepaway cave
craved awake
on chords of light
through ancient rows
where I soak my cells
in a green serene
slurping gasoline
 
a break from those
unblinking 
high beam 
~eyes:
 
this all-seeing dream
that winked at our dogs
& wormed our wrists
into one happy hominid
inbred lizard
pyramid scheme
 
leeching trust in our neighbors
through vitriol labors~
our cherries scarce
as the wasp burrows
& borrows
bones for a wage
all voiced in the rage
of a radio wave-
 
a low frequency stage
all watchin' the cage
where the girls strut by
(they wanna man
 with soft hands
 an’ a hard heart
 an’ a li'l doom 'n' gloom
 with they vroomvroomvroom
 from they womb 'til they tomb
 because)
 
They,
 
forked tongues in our pale sunlight
as chemtrails fume
our foxhole plumes
an’ ‘em cuddle-demons watch us
through ’ar teddy bear cams-
(motion-sensed
 in chess piece face anticipation,
 the crawlspace 
 breaching a sub pump 
 for inevitable 
 fungi worship…)
 
an’ you 'n' yer hats 'n' specs
an’ me 'n' my boots & b***s
we checked ‘em fools
macked in they mags
with they backs in they bags-
      (they got they claws in th’ kiddies
        with ’ar goodies in they hoodies)
 
They,
 
a simulated stimulated
invisible reptile 
legion-
 
a battle for earth
& sometimes when
the machines go down
I get stoned alone
while gassed or aghast
at the shape we’re in,
so grossed or ghost or
in like sin or
on like moss, or
 
a line of red 
slithers on the sand 
under broken hand
as intuition screams
bloody murder
with a dance on the edge
all dazed & awake
'til a faith in snakes
can cough & quake
these buckshot              
cross-eyed
wanderins’                 "off"
far & away
 
it whets my beak
(so to speak),
with the infected blade
of a wet work
net worth
‘lectric stands
long for the cryptid-wind
from the babbling span
 
where attention peaks
over windows to the soul
for when the stars are right
and our prayers are set
we can hold our breaks 
and hearts high at the moon
and howl & cry,
 
ye, we'll weep a brick
'til the slit of day
while sweeping for bugs
beneath a wounded sky
all bled & burnt 
by shadows & milk
still slithering hope
to shape the land
with forgetful sand:
 
 
a footstep on the wind 
traps the chill forever  
slurping the pangs
of my soaring dream  
through the green serene-
 
I climb on stomach knots
up through the grove
on crimson cords  
of unseen light
 
along those ancient rows
through randomized
nutso ritual throes,
 
I always grave 'em the slip.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Blood out.