grand avenue

shattered

shattered like my brother's thumb

when a crap mouthed little immigrant boy

brought a bat down on the tip

split the skin and the tissue swelled out

swelled out like a big human tissue balloon

and the blood and the broken finger nail

reminded joey the pig-nosed kid from down the alley

reminded him, he said, of when the man at the sausage shop

put the meat scraps with little bits of bone or hoof

into the sausage grinder

that's what it reminded him of,

yep

sausage as fresh as sausage can be

pink and perfect,

phallic and full of blood and bone and my brother's thumb

and it was shattered when I saw the last person in the world

the last person in the world

the last person ever to draw breath

drawing breath as he stood erect and stretched that skinny frame

and the apparently other last person in the world

put several .38 wadcutters through his thorax

thorax always sounded like the name of a detergent

except his bled and wept that life-blood

and little bits of shattered bone – i believe it was rib

and it looked a little like my brother's thumb

when the great balloon of bloody tissue and bone fragments

made their way to the light of day

and that thing called a thorax

kind of deflated like a, well, yes

like a balloon

yep

that's what it did

and then finally i walked around that mall

or whatever it was

and i was tripped out on pills or booze

or maybe just tripped out on fear

yep

that is what it was

tripped out and wandered around

and walked and walked and walked

no great balloon of human tissue 

or wadcutter penetrated thorax

like detergent or not like detergent

asian lady with the eggroll sing me the blues)

stick it in hard

stick it in hard and hot

stick that eggroll in my greedy gluttony mouth

as a tissue balloon swells with each breath

and the hole in that thorax weeps blood and bone and sweat

weeping but never crying

as the tissue balloon

reminded joey the pig-nosed kid from down the alley

reminded him, he said, of so many things

yep

that's what it does

and so I walk past the asian lady with the eggroll

singing the blues

and I find that fat pasty pale german man with the beer stein

selling crack and wurst and worse to little kids and widows

hiding the crack in his anus and a little bit in his eyelid

just for good measure

he lifts the stein to show me a watercolor of his anus

painted on the bottom

the bottom of the stein, of course)

and he winks at me and a little bit of crack 

falls out of his eyelid

falls onto the counter where i pick it up

and use it to buy some

sausage as fresh as sausage can be

pink and perfect,

phallic and full of blood and bone and my brother's thumb

Rubble

Train car trekker hoboing to Hoboken

Dodging dustbowl dustbins

Getting out of Dodge with weathered boots

Torn coat, torn emotions

Escaping the derelict of duty deputies and boss yard batters,

Dented pocket watch outwitting

Lefse eating pickpockets

Pickpocketing under the radar, under the stars, over the top

Scoped out with dragon breath, dragging his butt

Out of breath

With any guise that keeps away the guys

In the iron clad carts caging coal chips,

Chips on his shoulder, chip on his lip

In the small comfort of the cattle carrier

In the warm straw and dung on the B & O (bed and odor)

Fighting off the battalions of losses and rotting livers

Among the rotting livery

Shattered mirror of a broken spirit, broken bones

Falling off the car

Dancing to that miracle song on the tracks

Under the tracks

Under the radar, under the stars

To that new beginning on the other side of the tracks

off the coast

withering wondering westering days

lost days of empty pockets

and an empty mind

captain jerry, stuff that hardscrabble oleoresin

in a winter-scammed dream

pale puffy rodeo queen

fresh from the rodeo of middle america

(you could pronounce it ro-day'-o if you like)

captain jerry, hold back a word, hold back another word

hold back every word

leatherback sea tortoise skips along and makes a traffic button

while the dolphin does that

(you know i'd say it because I have to say it)

fancy-pants dance

(i say it every time and i love it)

smile and hold back a word and drink your drink

(they think it is lemonade, of course, poopsie-doodle)

(your mother used to call you poopsie-doodle,

but you do not remember it, so i will call you poopsie-doodle

on behalf of your mother's ghost)

the pale puffy rodeo queen has hair and skin and lips and chins

and chicken-fat arm folds and cataracts and that unfortunate skin condition

the same as your mother used to have

(poopsie-doodle)

the same as she used to have until death gave a reprieve

well thank God for that.

anyhow.

spin that wheel, spin that bottle

spin that puffy pale rodeo queen

spin her until the chicken-fat arm folds turn all green

and the ceviche colors the water

where a leatherback sea tortoise skips along and makes a traffic button

and captain jerry can stuff that hardscrabble oleoresin

in a winter-scammed dream

(and you could pronounce it ro-day'-o if you like)

Cockamamie

Bumper crop of zydeco roosters

Peddling their herbs and whey

Way back, wayward, looking for a way out

Arm wrestling for that dish of dried corn at the counter

Hen pecked, hand picked

Huskers and hucksters

Husky, well-bred do-rag bearing baron

Of that sordid, sleek smiling way

Smooth hair, smooth face, smooth talking,

Sweetheart of a cocky crow

Crooning that sweet Cajun ballad

Under the blue moon

Swinging between babes bouncing on your knee,

Bouncing checks, bouncing bouncers

Bouncing back from the fray

Be-bopping with the slug in the jukebox grin

Picking ice gators out of his teeth with a blade of swamp grass,

Boasting butter and crawdads

With a swig of turnip juice

All tuned up, nose turned up

Nobody turns up

Except those flashing lights looking for that flashing smile

Flashing something like a bracelet in the brake lights

As he doo doodles and pays his fare all the way.

This is Only a Test

This is a test of the emergency literary system.
This system is established to maintain literary diversity
in the event of a public literary emergency.


Had this been an actual emergency
this message would contain directions
to where diverse literary materials could be found
and information on how long the state of emergency might last.
Copies of Naked Lunch and the Subterraneans
will be air-dropped to isolated communities if needed.


If an actual emergency should arise, 
please maintain calm and stay in the appointed 
literary shelters until the "all clear" sounds.


This has been a test of the emergency literary system.


This is only a test.

Sleepy Eye

The birch bark canoes and canvas sail tents

Are docked for truth

Water your horses, water down deals

Gnats and mosquitos pestering and sucking blood while

Patience runs dry and you do unto others…

Ceremonious moments

Flowery words, flowery fields

Prairies of deception

Rattling beads, rattling nerves

Draw your sketches, draw conclusions

Speak up! Speak your mind without acting like a fool

For all who do not agree with us are fools, right?

Offerings are left as bait for the rushing river

Bait for a signature, rushing for a contract.

Weave blankets, weave tales, weave smiles and condescension as

Drums beat, eardrums explode from silence.

The eagle cries

As a sacred feather falls to earth.

pathos

chuckle-head go ahead and raise that flag

raise a toast as well

raise a toast to the opening day of aspiring human season

wherein we all try our best

to try our best

as long as our best does not need to be our best

if you hold that door for that roto-rooter man

his dodgy little fingers and his dodgy little thumbs

might not smear God-knows-what

upon the handle

but then, that would be trying our best

and we might not need to do our best in trying our best

would you shout a little louder, dear chuckle-head?

shout a few decibels louder, for I can nearly hear that air-compressor

over your dulcet tones

shout, you chuckle-head, for that would not require you to try your best

just to try

try something, anyway

as the zephyr winds roar through my colon I am reminded of that one man

that one man who made the foolhardy mistake of trying his best

and making sure that his best was his best

he gained the laughs

of the noodle-suckers

and the chip-dippers

and the cheese-melters

and the chicken-plucking church-goers

they all laughed

and hung him out to dry

because his best

had been his best

so anyhow, chuckle-head, go ahead

and raise that flag

and raise a toast to the opening day

of aspiring human season

Prospectin'

You slimy ol’ scoundrel!

Keep comin’ after me

I dare ya! I double dare ya!

You sleazy ol’ geezer

Tryin’ to rope and outwit me

And my buddies

You got a few of ‘em and

I’m still mad as hell and there ain’t no forgivin’

I’m gonna kick your teeth in and give your arse some scars

You relentless sucker!

I hate your pigeon liver guts

And yer billy goat tenacity

(Learned me that word from a preacher in a camp once)

Keep comin’ after me like them spikes in a gear

Back to back pot shots

Missed again! Ha!

You squirrely varmint

Y’almost got me this time!

I reckon you’ll catch up with me one day

Until then, piss on you…Death!