Dusk dust
where corners stop
in min mum’s sin
opting on in with
cackles soft onto
slim hills between
buttered bread
what’s going on

In people’s heads
squeaks meek moan
crevices shock not
loud dot dot
image sliced sunks
down down
there’s pots and lots
urine drops
groans walls nothing falls

In People’s heads
daft falls wait
wait
waiting for a bus
Gus on thumb tacks
fill fills momentous
pills silvery hills
skulls the pebbles
in the feet slow
slowly
Cinderella bella
no can’t do
can’t find ere a fella
Cinder Cinder
Cinderella
Ooots so hoootey
bumpity humpity
on-one knows

the paining sunny sun
son, hon, childhood
bum

gone sung
there are no Jack and Jills
up the hills
in the mills
I met Jack once
once on a pebble
mebble meddle
gola all I want
So Jack spat
spits lits
boys toys kick soldiers
eyes in the hellow yellow
of a mel mel mel
yellow
sun lies skies
in the eyes of the beep beep beep
sits lits I cannnnnnnn OP
to sill sill sill ellow
lookin for fellows
in lilacs up a tree
skin in me bees lees
hola honey I can imagine
world’s without money
listen again
in the wren of den I don’t
won’t listen to the brills
of breast test mest
J’ecoute salute in the flute
of my toot
I ran across the veins
of my pains once
only once delved deep
seep in pore no more
than whores
galore

In people’s head’s
pell a mell skell
I joke in hell
of devils well
listen Cinderella
Jack and Jill up a hill
I know the skies are yellow
in fellows
without
the scout of pout
about the mills of souls
full of holes
in cognito
noes
toes of intimate foes
I know not what goes

but I knows the floes
flues feathers fools
fucks
flucks
fights
feet
flow
mow
I am no Cinderella
for a fella
or a Jack for a Jill
or a hill for a mill
listen loes mows
I can only hose
my
canny can can
I do the tango in
a frying pan
pan in slumps
cloughts of clump
hump conoma lumps
sliver thither
on a wild river
to the slop of a drop
in the skull of a hop nop top
slumpa lumpa ooompa doompa
canola doon
on the sallow moon
of what goes on
in people’s head’s
until they're dead.

Blue

Today the road a bony skeleton
squeaks silently
cracks the self
inner

smile sun
but it can’t
crippled ripple of a tear
slides down
the skins pores

hungry you tread on my eyes
picking up ragged bits
of green
softly

and as a painted landscape
from the tipping brush of
stems sticking out
November clings to me madly
crashing sounds

I remember
your blue pools
dipping into mine
at the 14th street union square
subway station

gluing to a halt
my shy feet paralyzed
ran away

curiosity
step gently
for no one
not even the Aran Islands
touched so deeply
a pebble on my desolate beach

In the Dim Dam River

In the Dim Dam River
in the the sliver of a quiver
in the dim dam river
of a joe hoe mo
in the Cudjo mosey mo
in the Southern States of lance
fighting civil in a middle
there were no horses
in the mighty tighty gunses
as the men set out to battle
Cudjo slippin sinking sinking
in the walls of Americo
Cudjo Cudjo Cudjo Cudjo
in the hells of hellish hell
in the depths of scathy smells
the sight of dim dam river
he fought the battles on a siver
in a boat a toat a toat
he avoids the enemy boats
without a hoola or a hupla
to meet Melora Vila
Melora in her nighty
meets the Cudjo Cudjo Cudjo
in the milla of a nilla
Melora in a silla
of the upty dupty suthy
her white skin nipty nopty
her breasts like little cup cakes
down by the dim dam river
where Cudjo met her there
in the grasses of a snare
and the smell so up up up
in the slivers of a cup
to the wholesome mint mop top
lying down on grassy leads
to the searchin river lies
in the dim dam river
of the Southern bell of niver

Melora on the grass
Cudjo on the lass
of the dim dam river
her cups singing niver
to the little flies as dies
in the gun shots and the cries
of the dim dam river
on the Cudjo southern river

in the guns and guns and guns
in the soldiers of the polders
Melora Melora Melora
in the sunners of sunora
gave a hump of hump of hump
in the Yessims of a Yes
in the sugar of a lily
in the honey of a pilly
in the redds of red red red
of a Yessims of a Yes
in the dim dam sliver iver
of the dim dam river
they shone and lashed and topped
sung up and down a bop
of a lighty tighty hala
of the moones river basin
staring staring staring
in the livers of a river
of the dim dam river
they lost to one another
in the guns and shouts of cries
Melora in the passions
of a do me do me lies
in the grass of nil high nighs
in the sliver of a quiver
in the dim dam river
she stops and sighs.