FURTHER BEYOND
How resolve a human intercourse that always
changes, never lasts, never becomes affectionate?
Beyond
either drunk & disorderly, unhinged by the horrors
or bit by the brainfever bird.
Beyond
what reaches by melodrama, only.
Beyond
her diaphanous flesh.
Beyond
tremble, tremble, tremble...
Beyond
the swingin’ blue rhythm of the slide trombone.
Beyond
scaling brains with music previously unimagined.
Beyond
scape-ghosts & half scape-ghosts.
Beyond:
Oh, we poets are a tough breed of killer
& I gets lonesome,
Dr. Blood.
The good fight becomes a bore.
Beyond
my girl, my ghoul, a shade across the branch.
Beyond
kicked against the pricks.
Beyond
who splits the belly of the beast.
Beyond
a good-travelling-graveyard.
Beyond
sudden, uncalled-for ejaculate that pearls the sheets
& fills a young mind with Terrors.
Beyond
bodies are merely the furniture of dreams
& we are using our own skins for lampshades.
Beyond
the bend of bow that drags music from an arrow’s shaft.
Beyond
how ascertain the straight skinny among such obsessive compulsive?
Beyond
History winks at me like a bluebottle.
Beyond
this is hot & bothered & no mistaking.
Beyond
the act of my dying has become a ritual, so, a bore.
Beyond
wandering ‘lonely as a cloud.’
Beyond
whatever grimly drawn cliché still holds water:
looks like a man, barks like a dog, crawls on
his belly
like a snake.
Beyond
waving not drowning.
Beyond
almost alive (barely) at the triggered lip.
Beyond
Freud’s so-called “throbbing collective subconscious”.
Beyond
who is nothing less than your run-of-the-mill
perverse
Heterosexual
with an onion for a heart, a wooden stake for a pecker
& a phobia for spiders & mayonnaise.
Beyond
searching for a guy with kerosene in his scrotum.
Beyond
what it is, that primary thing that skulls the head.
Beyond
‘gone down to blow the joint’ requires
an owl of thought with powers to discern the invisible
Naked.
Beyond
what Christly Hell that can’t distinguish fair from foul.
Beyond
the Devil pulling lemons in Reno.
Beyond
lay of the land outstretched to spike a vein.
Beyond
the back seat armoured as it is against hornèd amour.
Beyond,
O, juice the sump son –the bronco’s gone mad, clearing
knives from the drawers & spilling blood from the crankcase.
Beyond
shaving unwanted hair to de-freakify.
Beyond
she & I together on a train grinding country charts to hell
pans
out sexless even as a nipple drops to the stage floor.
Beyond
got hot, came a lot, got shot.
Beyond
what better way to hold a Frenchman’s liquor than by the ears?
Beyond
stripping the lily of whatever gilt leaves among the split & busted.
Beyond
who salutes & who shoots.
Beyond
911 or any other faulty towers leveled at the knees.
Beyond
where purses get taken for drugstores & private shops
get taken for public lifts.
Beyond
enough suspended particulars to kill a mockingbird.
Beyond
when the plot dulls simply drop the laundry.
Beyond
strict case of the blonde leading the blonde.
Beyond
slap-happy booshwa boys getting off
on wars half-cocked,
their seed spilling every which way but in the gloryhole.
Beyond
who gives skull to alien forms suffers Stockholm Syndrome.
Beyond
plush, pink salmon rushed by on the horns of dilemmas.
Beyond
what goes around, comes around, surely, as bleary minds go bats.
Beyond
beyond, with its huddled crowds of faceless apparitions,
Whether
petals on wet black boughs, coats hung upon hangers or whatever
other
everyday serves to spark the
Fabulous.
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