October 3, 2022
Funk
The woman wearing a mask of roses is carrying a pork chop.
The dogs the clouds walk are howling ladybirds.
That’s all folks for the pigeons to peck.
They are all objects of adoration – says a visitor.
While the clouds are moving like future automobiles
bold and reckless, the pork chop stinks and feels ashamed.
The woman wearing a veil of roses
gives up her son for adoption.
September 29, 2022
Nariyoshi took the tiny leaf between
his fingers and looked at the bark behind
it clipped another leaf away stood back
went in close again and pruned quickly
a number of leaves lent back and took
a long admiring look at the bonsai tree
September 22, 2022
The pink vase we didn’t give to goodwill,
your faux fur coat/vest,
our three legged chair we fucked on
and fell down laughing even
became smelly corpses,
killed with something like a noose or
flaming zero that was also my idiot temper.
Now, this house smells mildewy.
We were the greatest
and worst people we ever met
we agreed once.
September 21, 2022
The oldest calendar explains each day as “a lifetime without wisdom”.
The oldest priest still cannot find one particular tomb.
Mankind is a relic of our planet.
Behind every theory there is someone who worships the robe.
An ancient people will come, following these towering waves.
We know now that earthquakes are a form of communication.
The magnetic moon produces buildup, while the computers make collisions of gas.