god_made_flesh

nerve cells know
like lonely monks
who lust as hard as any one
and do all the human
undisgusting things
any human does
they know the truth
about the world getting born
and dying with foam at the mouth

these cells are so quiet and shrill
impolite, unobtrusive matter
that make up me

the mind trips and stumbles
it eats good apples but feasts on the one who is bad
but i do not think iam wrong
i do not think my cells are only hearing things

is this the reason for this
humble song that hangs and disappears
is this the reason for the sun i ignored all day
is this the reason for the
easy water that comes to me

a selfish lout,
and unspecial
but gorgeous

unafraid and a lone
i accept what comes

an african wail split down the middle

i can say
abcdefg
i can see abcdefg
i can play them on an orange
i know where to hollow and where to jut
i can belong to no group and i can crash
peoples' heads
just like he can do
just like she can do
just like the 4-legged beasts do all the time
there is nothing here that's much new
only rearranged
and this rearrangement
is lambstruck
i know there is news of better hollowed out places
better empty pyramids
we can fill with what will be remembered when
it should not really be thought of more over than
once
listen we cannot help but curse and hawk
for order
for minstrels in shock red clothing
searching up skirts
and becoming obsessed
and mindless
and bored
you see the female is everything
and so the female is forgotten the
female is abstract
and the female is
hopeful
the female is a juniper
a triscuit
a head
made of serious calamity
and too many
too frikkn
many
redundancies
people may tell you watch out
but what they really mean is
i am a product of this world
i am pushin it
i am strutting
i have obsconded with the medicine
i have showcased myself
and i have found myself
in a mess of mouthiness
i have gone searching beheaded
i have found her
but left her
i want a cock
i want a cunt
i want a lap dance
i want a pink pair of panties
on a sheman body
i want a people without blinders
i want a sister
and i have one
and i do not want to become estranged from her
in the beginning woman only liked cock
for what it could do for her
and then things changed
and she did not remember that cock needed her even more than she needed cock
and so that is when every thing got wrecked
but since we all came out of an incest sting
what is to be expected
we are unassuming halfwits
our best inventions so far are still alcoholic
and if you don't know how to enjoy that
you are truly to be pitied
i'm going to be myself in a mess of sounds
and in a mess of words
and in a mess of giving and in a mess of taking
love my mouth, love me.

Back when you were eleven and
you'd already had it
you never really thought about it but
you didn't hardly like
anybody

like
That one lady
at the foodbank
with black and yellow hair
and alot of chipped teeth

you didn't like her.

She was always there
when you'd go
but not because she cared about poor people
but cause she probably used to be in jail or on drugs
and she didn't have any kids
so she had to pitch in like a man convert
cause she probably used to be in jail or on drugs

You didn't like her.

She had a big presence
even without ever hardly talking
and she didn't
hem and haw her existence
with laughing
like good people

she never even said anything
she never even made hardly any noise

you didn't like it

You'd see her foodbank days
she had two packs of cookie dough and two packs of chips in her
backseat
you and the boys looked
"and she doesn't even have any kids!"
none of you guys liked her

You didn't trust her
you didn't like her.

But came that day
she schooled you in the art of
Don't Judge Jerk

You were going out the back way
going through the kitchen
mom was honking the horn and everybody else was already out there
you were going out the back way
going through the kitchen
where it was always real dark
carrying a box of day old pastries
muffins and van de kamps
that were looking really good
you were about to pass through the big back door
where it was always real dark

She pulled you aside
but she did it soft
a way in which you will never again be pulled aside in
a pull aside that was wrapped in
storybook halocity
she had bologna sandwich breath
from the whole fridge full of bologna that week
and
she was eating grapes from a cup
communion
she pushed the cup toward you
but you didn't want any and she said lazy,
"you're special. you have angels working overtime
to turn you out right. you're doing 'em proud."
and right then and there
she took your breath away,
with that kind of deep loving attention
you'll probably not ever recieve again
and you realize right then and there
you never felt real special,
you only ever felt a little mean
and the lady you never felt soft toward
was giving you a present
the likes of which
brought blood and tears to your eleven year old and fleshy face
and she giggled
and you didn't know she could giggle
she didn't look like the type
kinder giggle you've never heard since
and said
"no baby it's ok. you're a good one and you're gonna make it"
and just as soft as she pulled you in
she pushed you out.

You went running to the car
tears streaming down your cheeks
mom screaming
-what's wrong,
and hugging you
and you saying
-nothing,
-are you sure?,
-yeah, i just got scared,
i thought you left
-oh baby,

and you dove backseat
didn't wanta talk about it
nobody's in any seatbelts
you grab the baby put her on your lap
you feel happy
settle down and tear into the pastries
with your family

and being your wreckless mean self ever since
But softer and
happier and
with a big cup of communion
for anybody asking.

oh and father you're
an angel
with a sweaty compass as your head
your dresser drawer brims and spills over with plans to love
plans to say
plans to do
plans to follow your dreams
plans to mend the relationship with the children

but the sweaty compass has a
heart of its
own
that can't be found
it spins and spins
it cannot find its magnetic north
there is a harrowing tale about a man
who went there and grew the heart of a bird
and came back and passed out love like it grew on trees
and
he could never go back to the old club after that
and he could barely find one other birdman to compare notes with
so father got afraid and doesn't do anything
but shuffle round his messy drdresser
and yell at the tv

basically:
it appears that i am passing away
getting wrinkly and dusty and my eyes like deers running,
envied, tender,
off to somewhere safe
somebody set this whole thing up good.

and,
a little poem for my baby sister:

god it goes fast
dust is shaking and settling
muddying brown eyes black and atmosphere spectacular while my blue eyed sister
just got to be ten
and becoming an amazon with teeth and grit and
unhandleable powers of love
she is the last of a slew of anything but ruffians
raised on peace, democracy, hypocrisy,
mush and sheep
she viewed the whole story
in the big wide world
with a certain sensitivity for skeletal differences
represented by the ones who got here first
she is the hardest nut to crack and
she won't be
her essence is finite her
chosen place is
head to god's/heart to self
the proposition she speaks to me only through the
eyes she wears and is
is bold and passive and funny
it is all about self acceptance and good humor
she's the last in this slew of anything but ruffians.

in the blue ocean built on concrete
i was thinking only about the new heavens and earths
i was thinking will and love was the ultimate resource
getting born like a billion children per hour
and the children got born and half died of malnutrition
or from elephants made of granite, iron, ore, all those things you find in the good earth
i know i've failed and i know i've succeeded
i know my siblings and gods mercies are new every morning
i know my exfactors have hearts that are capable of truly anything
i have lavender wings growing all over this place i love because
7 grand killed me and i'm not a stable supporter of the economy except
during times of big delusional beauty
i had a lot of dreams that got dashed real good
and i know consequences are proud and wear loud shoes
i have eyes that make a good picture out of violence and degradation
and i have the recipe for amish friendship bread too
hearts are capable of anything
a heart is capable of anything

conmmensurate blight
what a fantastic feeling
little widows in the medicine cabinet
what a fantastic sight!

out in the streets and the yards of the
one leg outs
they are linked up arm to arm, swaying,
swaying, swaying,
god this is a fucking beautiful pow wow
they are cooing their traumas into each others'
digestive tracks
and now here come the big heart splash!
what a fantastic feeling!

legs are open
little fists are getting corners
ladies and motherfuckers are
falling in heat
beads for pottery
pottery for a new door frame
no interest on the god-loan!
what a fantastic feeling!

everybody's messing with their tether and
everyone's in sight
knuckles play big band
it's so avant
it's so garde
what a fantastic feeling
hang on little sister hang on
world's on a bender
world's on a bender!
what a fantastic feeling!

It's been a fact for centuries
the craven understand real joy
the guileless are fettered with sorrow
the lambs eat grass because there's nothing better
the lions eat lambs because their jaws grind down on the pill of life

God ends every dream in deep sleep
real dreams end in release like no other
and real life begins with a taste of hate

Harm buries herself well in a good heart
walking four legged bold only in the weakest hours.

Love is made up of spindly legs
that break themselves to walk across your floor

As if the two of us could've ever figured out a new kind of existence
you're pure rock and I'm nothing but salt
everything that was, is, and will be
is obscured inside some devouring of marrow
agitating in the spine of God.

Obscure passages
great big and proud sentences
are some peoples modes of survivalism
King David was one of these types
Rumi was another
What the hell were they talking about?
No one questions them

These men are dark sunbeams
the whole world fell in love with
Loving abstractions over things like
food from the breast number one
and food on the table number two


We forget about the ones who feed our face.
Thank you to these people:
Chinese
Mexican
Guatemalan
Ethiopian
Alabaman
Iowan
for all the grain and livestock
And also to
earth
birds
bees
and the women at the grocery store
looking for the deals
bouncing checks to feed faces

What's a whore but a hustler
what's a hustler but a mother
Thank you mothers
you feed the faces

Bathsheba's child died and so then she had another
and she is called whore and slut and foxy bitch
Jimmie sings about killing females like her
and Jimmie's alright
and David has glory
and he mourned his rapist child but not the raped one
and he mourned his avenging child
and not the one who needed vengeance

Yes it's true there are discrepancies amongst the offspring
offspring are unwieldy
"subjugate or be subjugated" is what I read today
being tired of abstractions.