And they served their idols: which were a snare unto them. Yea, they sacrificed their sons and
In the church they worship spiders, on T.V.
Christ with a neat goatee foretells the rain.
If you were me, you'd be inhuman too.
A glance at what we share should make it
When night came I rose and dissolved through the wall of my flat
and floated over the rooftops of
You’re born and you’re fucked;
and some little shit who’s an inch and a half taller than you wants
Wet-ashes scent of early fog
tinged with acrid odor of the joint
smoked by a couple
It wasn’t really:
it happens every month.
I used to wonder,
were the nuns really bald?
Twice a day, they bathe in the airy sewer,
the half-mechanical centaurs
spitting and sucking
Put a sign outside your house reading FLAGS BURNED HERE and stick a tiny flag decal on the button of
Leader: I know I live in the land of the free
‘cause it tells me so on my T. V.
An old man rides a bicycle in the sun
He casts a shadow definite as death
California spring at the turn of the twentyfirst century:
the sun is chill and warm like
As I turned down the dark alley the wind blew a crumpled page
from an indecipherable newspaper
Jerry was one of the people
who collect in the cracks.
He’d been around forever,
Your life cannot be judged until you’re dead.
Our individual nature is our fate.
Freud was right
the sun has a headache.
you’ve got to kick those dead birds out of your
the first is a golden skull
the second is a cobweb harp
the third is a machine that weeps
Sixteen hundred sylphlike souls
rising from the redness
form a Christmas wraith.
It was dawn when they came to kill us. The bleak sun
of winter was only a whitening of the
He woke up and heard his voice
saying, "Negative entropy!"
Of course, it was obvious, how
lost in the woods
with a pig in a poke
and a bill of goods;
he went out
The twentieth century was a heap of corpses:
Auschwitz, Jonestown, Hiroshima, My Lai,
The map of America doesn’t mean anything any more.
No mournful mosses shroud the sluggish
When he woke up that morning he knew
that all the flowers had vanished, but not
because it was
As I walked through the National Garden
a young woman gave me a flower and wept.
In answer to my
The sun has risen in its usual fashion.
Its only colors are the ones we name.
We have no word for
So I go down to City Hall to answer my summons
only when I get there it’s not City Hall any
There are black holes in our world
where existence has collapsed upon itself
into a void so dense
Markets were our masters,
plutocrats our priesthood,
slavery our passion.
I love my car and I’d never want to sell it.
It’s so cozy inside that when I fart I can smell it.