Libertalia

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.