trees only sing
at the right time
of night in the right
kind of weather
and if the witch
happened to
cast some wayward
spell in the throes of
her nightmare

i have to live in the river
until the sun makes me sparkle
and the trees beg me to
come climb them again

And this time I know I lost a lot;
the mountain and the sea.
I only breathe a little bit,
and it costs a fee.

the woods cleared
and then i came to a river

it's like I was thrown out of the woods
straight into the river

only eight inches to go 

till im six under 

i've given up drinking wine
now i just bathe in it with my
entire body

i wish my black thing
that's in here
weren't so velvety

i'm carrying around my
glittery thing

but my black thing is still here

very bad decisions
almost every day

the secret of the flowers
is being spoken to the
bathos of the mist

dead charisma
winter wine
broken lock
and smell of pine
five feet under
five feet back
keep on going
and never look back

sometimes i feel that
all i need is a good
beating
by the river and the sticks

if only i was numb
and seven feet of
winter snow
could cover me up

it would not be made better
this time
by being on the beach
or rich
or healthy

but men are women though

and if you were in me
then we would be ok

one in I
is the one in you
i know it is true
because it flows
out of me like wine

Maybe I shouldnt complain like this
its only going to bring me trouble.
but what if complaint just flows
out of me like wine
I should keep them in
so they turn to diamonds
or blow them out
so they fall like rain

i think they thought
i needed to learn something
that ten thousand sandstorms
could never teach me

you could not tell
that I never was talking
to you, but to the
Black Shadow
because I was sent
as a messenger from
paradise
to relate something

little did you know
that you are in a black
well, full of monsters
mold and dead rats
and I am an angel in the sky
and I dont even have to have
feet or hairs I just
sing to the moon
and she sings to me
and our faces face eachother
with our eyes closed

cat turd stupid
shit i have to do

ass crack stupid
wipeshit
weighing on my
heart and mind

so stupid
dead pancake stupid
butt stupid
thing on my hands

Her winter's
almost over

this year

only five miles left
but i dont think
i should run them

maybe only the red river
can understand
and wash me

maybe if I go
to the river
it will turn red
at the touch of
my foot

unreliable
bility

just I cant help
that my left hand
and my right hand
are different

once a cherry
always a pit

on one side of the moon
there is something
&
on the other side there is
something too

baby
ice
aint exactly
wet
you know

although I'm sure I dont know how to pray
I feel perhaps I'm praying now

if I was born a bat
or a beaver or something
i might have a community or a
branch or a something to chew on
but i'm not and i dont.

it already is nighttime.
do i really expect it
not to be dark?
it already is winter.
i cant complain
of the coldness
when it already is cold.
one cant complain that they
dont like the ocean
the ocean is bigger than
one, right?
if its dark and its cold
and then I  just

Maybe what I need now
is cold water?
with sunshine in it.
Or warm water
that is part of the ocean
and the exposure that comes
with beaches.
Maybe I just need the exposure

I really dont know
if I can do it or not
this time.
I'm not sure about
the way green pines
or firs smell.
I dont like not getting
answers back.
I dont like to think of
myself as needy.
I like to think of myself
as rich earth.
As clean dirt.

I'm a black cat
at best
I think.
I'm definitely not
a grey cat
or an otter
at least.

I'm glad I looked like hell on the train.
I hope those kids will grow out of saying nigger.
I don't know if I should put myself to sleep
by taking a sleeping pill either even.

I'm glad we had dinner together.
And you just drank
and I ate things that I hoped
would get rid of my headache.
And you left early
and I stayed and waited
for a more important and worse-yet thing
to happen to me.

he drank himself
to death
in only a year
and his family
was quite put out

O I could have used
some of the chicken soup
I heard you ate for dinner
with a
happy couple
that made it for you.

To tell a cloud
you're so very
unhappy.
Or to tell the
ocean you
dont know what
to do.

only
poisonous
red temperature
reader
tells the truth

i could
be a swaddled baby
or under a river
or inside lots of things

I'm donning
all the wrong things.
I think I have been

an old man
walks into a
shop and sits
down on a
rock and
might as well
be crying

very stinky
mostly
and also
strained
so much

a hard moon surface
with nowhere to even
sit comfortably

the crater hole
came back again
and there's no
flower or rose in it
or dust even

back to the
raw black stuff
I keep around
again

cry
like a
baby baked into
a pie

then smile
because you are
warm and
there are cherries
all around

cherry cherry
ode to cherry
plain or
in my pie
on my cream
in my drink
on the rocks
with fizzy fizzy
love my cherry
red and merry
eat it in a bite
very cherry
flavorful

a dipdyychhh

until the end of the earth it will be
will be
like a ship on the sea
all strong
like a large thing in the water
like a mystery
it will be
it will be
like the thing in the wind
and all the energy
like a piece of earth it will be




bubble gum
bubble gum
i love it bubble gum
small gum
small sculpture sooo
wonder ful
i love bubble gum
i love it i do
it is cool
it is rad very nice to shake your hand
put you in my mouth and love you
bubble gum.

baby duck on an apple

just eating little gnats

he loves the little gnats

the baby duck doesnt love you

doesnt know you att all 

it thinks you are a shadow 

or a monster 

or them all! 

baby duck is so stupid 

and so hungry and so good

long live baby duck

and long live food! 

the kitten
it might cry
but for just a minute

and then it re-pounces
and bounces and hisses

she sits in the kitchen
on an old stool

and regards the wood
pin while she stirs the stew

the vapors they rise up
and wrinkle the paper

that sticks to the wall
and cannot escape there

and dance in the
river
that dances with light

and live in the rushes
with all little mice

and pray in the garden
like sweet insects do


and call to the clouds

and look at the moon

and sing your
sweet name
and swing on
a swing that
was hung from a
twig
and fall on the dust
that lain under
it