will be goat on the skewer
for we are liberated from laws
and make our own republic
even if we look foolish
killing lemurs
stealing our powder
on the sands of Isle-St-Marie.
No one wants to end up truly
liberated do they?
A lunatic shitting freely in the street?
Why then do these Men
exist in time? Why do they rule
my time? O
the times. I forget the times.
Which sounds better as
J’oublie le fois.
plantain
When my love has moved and no longer my love.
When a curse and a joke
express myself better
than the symbols in my mind
or a life with a paycheck or a struggle for daycare
or a carousel of birthdays
sad days
not there before
therefore
I attain the level.
Pay no attention to the children lick their lips
as New Delights wonder
Are you a delicacy too?
I take the king's ships. Am I not King?
Yes. For awhile?
And my castle though crude
grows men thick as baobab
and endless wives new to their freedom?
And never did a man have better times
than when the jigs I played took air?
The moats are filled with ancients suicides dogs
pterodactyls millionaires idiot
shamen.
A man of fortune
seeks his fortune here.
Such people flourish
in the hanging gardens.
Sails crack and the night
dark-deadly maroon
makes walls moan with treasure.
Gold sweats
and rosewood bees make young honey
to lick off the hot bank of stone.
By Christ I can taste
the blood in my enemies.
I chew the bitter glands
of evil people humbled in the shade.
Enemies silent in the forest.
Let me go lightly
as springbok infatuated with flight.
Lure me back again paradise of my soft mind—
on a hot bank of clay
and the need for my protection.
Were those flamingos just a burst of beautiful time?
Did Time not appraise your intelligence?
Were men in the hallways not wondering?
Or women not assessing your smirk
The athletes not assessing your smile
your structure
and marble? Your orchid scared
in gorgeous panties
a clitoris in distress
rolling like a droplet in a rainstorm
tests me as I try not to see
my castle crumble.
I asked such questions as commander.
Life is harsh on the level.
Love, suggested violently
pure as the colors
or the tower tiles smelling fresh
makes an imprint in a man
like a kiss against the skin
like skin to the spike of a palm
in the palm of a man.
Yes, I am insane because I wanted it—the kingdom.
I see. In the dark. With special eyes.
A long-tongued moth
dodging bats for the all-night orgy.
Arrival comes by awful means
on a hot bank of flesh.
Your daughter will be richly rewarded.
Otherwise it's the pistol.
Or the navy.
taylor
Youths could sneak
on the sea between two castles
and try strange things
before the moon between
the parting cloudy sky turned hyperblue
and showed us the newest
flowering nebula.
Lightning repeatedly strikes twice.
More stars squeeze their light
into the darkness
til you wonder
How is it still dark?
and bioluminescent creatures love
blowing ships toward terrain
The kingdom faraway is raucous.
You can hear freedom like I do—
voices without boundary
and the night’s waves of nutmeg
olive, oil, gardenia, coffee, ocean, pasture
an energy not felt before.
Upon ascendance
the equivalent of a peacock
disguised as a queen
plays her jewels with long henna hands.
One mood is an eternity
but here the billion deviations
unfold like clockwork wound by minds
watered by words
minted by expression
made aware of god.
Beside a broken nectarine
the last ten children tell their tales.
Your door opens to a face
speaking of The Thing.
You are welcomed by a plant
into the hand of a storm
and left dripping leaves’ light.
condent
Every trace of gravity, remove.
Every detail has become a line
sloping like defiant/sunset/breast.
You'll be my guest in paradise
but I'll drink you to hell til then
til the daughter of Bourbon Island
comes of age to pardon me
for entanglements of humanity
listen in hot corners
listen, waves upon the rocks—
outside there is only peace
and it is safe to relax my love
to think without guilt. Without history.
Bells ring. I have made it so.
Until the guns come, then we run.
On the level, everything is unprecedented.
Behind a waterfall
girls gather to trade secrets. Intimacy, trust
make a basket weaved of caring hands.
Yet the youth seeking to be cut free
of his ribbons can disappear
and find estrangement sooner than he feared.
Yes, here one is rewarded
easily as your test has been hard.
I AM
as Providence intended—
warships hang like buzzards. Sunset
like a ruby on seas of tourmaline
placed by tentacles into the moment
and shot when my life is over.
I’ll wear the jewels of the sultan tonight.
And we’ll return home when we can.
england
Tell the shadows what you wish to see
if you can imagine something
not already clear before you
ample and apricot.
The heart will feel angels' topaz wings
crossing the portico
bulge with fresh blood.
The fossa howls out like a dying man.
Enormous dreams
nurse the soldiers
and magicians in the crew.
Beauty spells thirst with milk
from the cream of celestial whales.
God bless those traitors.
The traveler exhausted
drinks the mystery he is given.
Even if kind
and weak.
What you need and what we have
to offer is far beyond your need.
The apsara blow in some evenings.
The sharks industrious and swift.
The marooned see hope in the distance.
avery
$116,000,000 in gold.
Nowhere to spend it.
Yet, endless turtle stew
precious gods, the Mogul's silk
enslaved slave traders
pour in upon us
between the fans of heavy palms.
I disappeared into the jungle end of story.
My sliver of the world is still sane
but endangered like the forest
we lurk, still here
able to appear
in time like the chameleon.
I answer your monsoon
with new forms
of rare escape. Centurion
brute shipwreck, I indulged
in my woman with a little laugh
and well-crafted commentary
extended belly and tight thighs.
She smells of moss and talcum.
She will do things you dare
like play with wild ponies
and understand
love above the level.
She knows prey is all spirit.
She is your partner tonight.
That’s all I miss of what I had.
misson
Meat is sacrificed to us
but we aren’t cruel monsters.
There is no such thing as a monster anymore!
The pinions of the watch no longer
count toward time.
We are free on the level
and will die if that's to change.
No fucking master
tells me not to drink
and still I can surprise a woman
shoot dead a dishonest man
shitting in the street
or strike a flag declaring
for my men at least
a World more Real than New.
I walk susceptible to an ending always.
Even as advertising rolls from lips like magic yes.
Starlight autographs in estrus for an antihero.
But taste reunion with the fruits
that grew that year
the music we played
the love we made.
If all is free of worry, beautiful we die.
So crush the time
let billions of chemicals
make pirates wild.
You are sad and want to know
Do I matter anymore?
On the level everything is known
including the forgotten names
on this island in existence.
