Libertalia

tew

Sad matter wandering
one horn of existence 

taken from creation
mistaken like an orange 

for the blue sea

all wonder even when we endure to whom?
Life upon the level
knows soon our masters 

will be goat on the skewer
despite our own republic-- 

bliss and lemurs
stealing our powder 

learning to count
by rubies divided 

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 a curse and a joke express myself better
than symbols that signify a life with a paycheck
a struggle for daycare
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
does it not grow men thick as baobab
and endless wives new to their freedom?

The moats are filled with ancient suicides dogs
pterodactyls millionaires
idiots warriors. Shamen.

A man of fortune seeks his fortune here.
Such people jig in the hanging gardens.

Sails crack and the night
dark-deadly maroon/walls moan with treasure. 

Gold sweats, 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.

Your envy is always best as condiment.
Pursuers silent in the forest. Let me go lightly 

as springbok infatuated with flight.
Lure me back against the paradise of my soft mind—
on a hot bank of clay
and the need for 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
clitoris in distress 

rolling like eventual rain
droplet by droplet 

til my my island is no longer private. 

I asked such questions as commander.

Life is harsh on the level. 

Love, suggested violently
pure as the colors
or the fresh tower tiles
makes an imprint in a man who has not grown old.
I see. In the dark. With special eyes.
Like 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.

Yes, I am insane because I wanted it—the kingdom.

taylor

Youths could sneak on the sea between two castles
and try strange things before the moon between
the cloudy sky went hyperblue
revealing the latest
flowering nebula.
Lightning repeatedly strikes twice.
More stars squeeze into the darkness 

until you wonder
How is it still dark? 

and luminescent creatures love
blowing ships to the sand 

because they shine on in return.
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 the sound of the abacus
deducing us to One
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

What to do with the chameleons is yours.

condent

Every trace of gravity, remove. Every detail is a line
sloping like defiant/sunset/breast.

You'll be my guest in paradise
but I'll drink you to hell
until the daughter of Bourbon comes of age
to pardon my entanglements alisten in hot corners
waves upon the rocks— ships heave, armies of birds
sea lion rebellions. Otherwise it is safe
to relax. To think without guilt. Without history.

Bells ring. I have made it so. Until the gun comes up
and once again we run.
On the level, everything is unprecedented.
Behind a waterfall girls
gather to trade secrets: intimacy, trust
a basket weaved by caring hands.
Yet the youth seeking to be free of ribbons
can disappear and find estrangement
sooner than he feared.

I AM as Providence intended—
to witness warships
hang like buzzards there against the setting ruby
surrounded by tourmaline
placed by tentacles into the moment
and shot when life is over.

I’ll wear the jewels of the sultan tonight.
I will be ultimately home.

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 fade away today.
The fossa howls like a dying man
and deliberate lovers
nurse the soldiers and magicians
who crewed the mutiny.

Beauty spells thirst
for cream of celestial whales.
Vanilla nutmeg honey and cloves.
We drank the richest of behemoths. 

With almonds.

Traitor/travelers with a mug of Madagascar milk
working depleted on the mystery given.
Even if kind and weak. Like me.

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 million in gold. No grog. No hatmakers.
Would endless turtle stew
precious gods, silk
and more cardamom than you can imagine
be enough to outlast hunger's cannons?

Not all who join are invited to the division. 

Whatever code you believe
does not apply
to one who steals from Allah.

I do not worry what they say
when smoking in the fans of heavy palms.
Yes, I should have stayed
in the heart of the insane island.
But endangered like the forest
able to appear in time like the chameleon
I answer your monsoon
with new forms of rare escape
and thoughts of home-poisoned reality.

Quartermaster, brute shipwreck
what you might call unscrupulous
merchants who took my last diamond
and did not worry what I'd say
because words have no meaning 

off the level.

Not all who join

are invited to the division.

Choose your ending well 

or you begin where you began.

misson

Meat is sacrificed to us
but we aren’t cruel monsters. Perhaps
no such thing as a monster anymore exists!
The pinions of the watch no longer
count toward Time. Time
is still the sun upon the level
and I die before that changes.
No fucking master
tells me not to drink
and still I can surprise a woman
shoot dead dishonest men
shitting in the street
or strike a flag declaring
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
grown that year with music we played
to some refined indulgence.

If all is free of worry
we'll crush the time and die beautiful
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 dead names repeated 

on this island 

on the moons.