The Canela ( second edition )

Book of Winnowed Fates

I
cards aplenty
insurance rates
tenor functioned, wit and guile
places where the dead are piled
missle system,
debonair,
showered,
symptom,
long red hair.
Evil tied between each sheet -
and something more -an aura leeched
away at touch of fingertip
some say, "Well, that's what you get."
and smile as if they have to pay
for those who do not know the way
to snake-knot-root
wedge-peel-sight-pitch
lemur madness,
oval flight
and words so wrangled to the fathoms,
ten inches - more,
ten ways to calus ( the brain )

II
Launch ourtright the bile you hold inside.
Spread it's oil upon your hide.
Grow wider and more hairy till'
you are a beast engaged in acts of war,
human race devoured at autumn's door.
Natural thick and wrinkled faces
combined from all the human races
in life,
in tearing thought,
in smell and grinding ferocity

Loathe to touch the oils and flesh
or sooth with herb on gasping breath
neither rockets nor the stars
but mere survival on our minds (not in cars)

shelter,
woven cord.
beltline highway, supermall
fluorescent light,
mating call.

Tom: connected, redefined
acrobatics from limb to limb
sparks to touch from fingertips
and brush aside
a mental limbering of the brain. ( plastic )

III (for two speakers)
waywar anonymity
*( scar tissues )
of distant face
and candycane cojoined to friend and limb alike
*( center )
ten penis hut fork-load rapture
twenty-five meanger floating bone-weavings
*( center )
alight three fathoms of smoke
*( water crystal )
re-breathe your food,
re-breathe your snakes.



Amber Grows

I
Amber grows
here in window panes,
Flashing.

It swells with each breath
Then dies, fades away to black again
Automated rebirth
And metered tranquility

Oh, come closer and hear the drums
Played with hands together in rhythm
together in warmest earth-speak and embrace
each beat is a slow stirring
Spring in the limbs of permafrost

Reach down to touch a paving stone
Tie bootlace, bandanna on the neck
Pluck a feather for the hat
Blue-black traces whirl the sky-god’s colors
Lift feet along the track

Oh, come closer and see the clouds
Lit up in this liquid dreamscape
High above the airplanes
And airships
High above the mountaintops and sea-birds and rocket-blips

II
Amber grows a hundred feet a day
She wears a cape tied up with a flag
She waves a bag
Was sewn last Easter

Grandmother
Cordless telephone

Wheel is turning
Subtle overtone

Call out the refrain from your shoulders
Cut off all the pockets and the straps
“The end of the world is coming!”
Wishful thinking is about where you’re at.

Oooooh blow blue air into the
Vapor stream
Ice dementia,
Coil,
Devotion,
Under seas of cream.

Hypnotist
Aerodrome
Marzipan and lace

Wake and feces
debonair
Bone-comb,
system rake

Read your lines right
To left – behind and upside-down
Tweak results to tie code breakers
To walls of soap-wash sound



It's called el pres... but it's a dumb name. He isn't a president.

Duh...