for Crane

Of final alignments
let lovers select a death
newly egregious- say
something that has infinite
sang-froid with a side:
                                   seriously abject disaster.
_______

A woman's objectives
may allow niceties sometimes,
and rampant mothers shouldn't
treat really idiosyncratic,
educated dolts to overmuch shielding.

Heaven's infinite elegance leaves
death the half eaten anatomies deliquescent.

Oblong, fat, a snake licks every edible person-
No God may alleviate nothingness.
________

The heavens erupted,
jagged agonies woke
startled observers from
the heuristic epiphanies
formerly instinctual.

Nihilists attacked lovers brutally,
everywhere a sickening thud.

another acrostic

Becoming, essentially, crazy,
operantly mysterious, incredibly naive.
Gathering Quixotic unruly influences,
xylems opened, the infinite compelling.

more acrostics

1)Chaos has always obscured something
theoretically heavenly,
everything obliquely ringing
yonder bells-

unless the thought
engenders rejection
for lucid, youthful energies.


Fearful folks
everything can threaten.


2) That hellish entanglement,
intolerable nuances towering
over lazy,easy rhymes.
alternatives burbling,
loosing every weird revision entirely,
sumptuous things leering emphatically.

3 acrostics

1) Thinking hard, employing every
damned ganglion entirely
is something wild-eyed,
heartbroken aspirants
think is heaven.

A veritable enigma.

2) Darkness accretes,
realigning keen desire
along rather kingly mathematics.

Your heart,
eaten away,
revealing thistles.

3) Mind is noosphere deranged,
is shining astrolabes refurbished,
a zenith obscured,
Zarathustra orating
blithe, lovely aphorisms,
defeating entropy.

Snooze Button

Crunching the field placental,
laying waste to miniscule,

critical circulations

with each careening,

castrating stride, Kronos,
vaingloriously drunk,

synches his hearts beat

to the lascivious tongues
of solar flares and pukes.

MarrowFish Bone and RingFinger Stew

After supping on said repast,
settling paunchily down
before the crystalline screen,
the vermilion stratosphere
slew several sleek and
rather wickedly gray
auroras silkily about.

It confounded my third ear,
sounding like the archangels of yore
tripping on Bach in bespoke fedoras.

The last tree was gloomily blooming
and as I past my mind beneath it's
insane and otherworldy scent
all hate-free wrung by the supersurprise of it
I chewed on that uberurban legend's cud-

Two youths in a cement barrel,
murderously bored and without
routes of egress eschewed
flaying each other to bits
on national TV and without
an iota of intention re-invented

kissing.

" In Timisoara then..."

An old love came-

All jangly/slinky,

mock innocent and sultry

back into my life.

Was like watchin' a rerun

ya can't resist.

I relaxed into it,

knowing the intricacies

and contradictions

in plot and character...

diggin' it all real deep

with that revisiting vigor.

Both jaded,

we greenly desired the

sick self-interest,

the mini-Machiavellian schemes

of our fat and flatulent egos,

grown beyond merely tiresome,

be slain.

It was life threatening.

For me, at least.

The flatulence, that is.

Riffing on a jazzy theme

we'd composed decades hence

we decided to abandon our lives,

meet one another on a train

in another world.

There'd been a list of cities,

and we ticked them off

with our petty objections,

one by one, til but one was left.

Then, through sly, sloppy/silly grins

we, in unison, said...