Two new moons

To feel
this way
again

To know
you can
feel this way
again

Once
is never
gonna be
enough

Once
is better
than never
though

Sign me up
for the trial

That’s ok
someone’s got it

You don’t
ever wanna
get too far

You don’t
ever wanna
forget it

What
are you
releasing

What
of this
will stick

I’m gonna
make some tea
& go outside

I’m gonna
stir a little
honeynado






.

Back home

Now they’re finally saying
the war in Afghanistan
which they never planned
on ever winning
is too expensive
for us

Babies grew up
into hand me down drivers
in the time they’ve spent
racketing away at the trap

It’s no wonder heroin
is cheaper than it’s ever been
sometimes I wonder
why I’m not doing any
easier to get than a ‘script
a gateway sanctioned
by a board meeting

Yeah I mean I know the answer
I know the other answer too
I chainsmoke flowers
while I write

Let me elucidate
the fallacy
of opalescent economics
the psychopathic travesty
of profits over people

They say it’s cheaper just to use
the private contractors
who are over there right now
guarding the poppy fields
vantage pointing horizons
that covertly expanded
while our soldiers
tried to instill a pseudodemocracy
no one gives a fuck about
& died a freakish death
which they tried to cover up
a long time ago
back home

Back home where they are more likely
to kill themselves
than die by anything else

Back home the alien planet
the contractors relinquished
to kill on command until retirement

Back home in duffel bags unchecked
after nine months a new batch
the temptation must be profound

Back home flooded with fentanyl
from China & other even stronger
opiates overdosing just by the touch

Back home where states are suing
big pharma for knowingly setting
everyone up to turn cold & blue
 

Back home with CIA psyop brainwashing
on every channel every messageboard
every social media network to control us
how we think & how we act

Back home phishing for clicks with bot
accounts & links to malware for anyone
especially some more than others

Back home not too far from where the contractors
want to wrap everything up on their terms
whatever the fuck that mean$

Back home sniping innocent refugees
after Katrina just like they did
to the unarmed folks of Nusoor Square

Back home where their best idea
is to go big or go home with military & surveillance spending
they know what’s coming

Back home collapsing desperate
until the very last second it’s
already too late 

Back home where solutions will become
inevitable talking points against
an opposing party to strengthen theirs

Back home where they’d probably try
to kill us all but they’re vampires
that feed off us just ask Virginia

Back home hyped up & bitchslapped
by fear into blind compliance
scapegoating distractions deflect

Back home where you should go
it’s cheaper to do what exactly
if we already know all of this 

Back home not buying it but still watching you
just to see the type of bullshit & candycorn
you’re feeding less by the day
 

Back home cooking dinner in bacon grease
adding cannabis to everything
a dark orange hue that blankets the woods

Back home brewing like a kettle
for a cup of coffee watching it all
unfold from within the confines of a gulch

Back home ensnared but cut loose filtering
the bluelight getting a good nights sleep
I always keep a sharpened blade on me

Back home dusty & wildfire faced
black shirt, black lighter
black everything





.

Brown blood

Scisciscisciscisciscisciscintillating
the crickets bow their chitinsic desire
inbetween evading me the big huge beast
it all goes violet gray pink
quiet where the feet step around
the perimeter I’m listening
to the long gaps between everything
the distance between galaxies
folded over a few times in my back pocket
with a note on it scribbled & crossed off
the cat hides out under the old cabins deck
in the shadows match his fur
he looks at me
I don’t want to blow his cover
there’s this smell of feathers breaking down
as if they absorbed the very air
they suspended until releasing it back
into the dirt so it’s hard not to think
of all the primal similarities that ring
bells of hmmmms it’s the nitrogen
it’s never one thing it’s always
this entourage limited by the scope
of whatever channel you’ve tuned
your perception triangulates
vicinity by amplitude
the mortar & pestel carved out of marble
the pellets of manganese & sulfur ground
to a white powder with a bit of pink & toxicity
to help bring the iron down
that’s found it’s way into everything





.


Interstellar fuckface squad

-One of ’ems got
the numbers
put ’em down
scan their eyes
you gotta pry them
-yeah
-we’re gonna
get inside
before they even know
the future’s fucking singing
you can’t hear it
they can’t either
I put my dead ear
to the dead earth
& I can hear it though
what’s up with that

I like using a smooth
piece of tan driftwood myself


“They had no use for us
after funneling our time back
into the lime green hourglass
stepping foot by foot into my eye
functions as a black hole
at certain times…”

“They aint too sure bout where
they be endin’ up on account all
o that—[spits]—I’ll be god damned
them sonsabitches stood right there
looked me dead in the eyes & said:

“Look at you!
Look at you
looking at me
looking at you!””

“I felt somethin’ that I aint
never felt before & reckon I’ll
never felt again forslong as I haunt
the singing song of graves by which
them devils escaped into me…”

Jim O’Gregory, 1754 AD




.

Bear feet

I’m barefoot all the time

but what about the scorpions

I’m barefoot all the time

do the salamanders care

’cause I haven’t seen any

not the way I’ve seen the surface

of the sun on cold butter

what planet are you from

have you ever seen the grass seed

there’s something filtering the sky

I’m barefoot all the time

but what about the eel slime

I’m barefoot all the time

so what do the squirrels think

drummin’ on pine trees

look a human in the window

it can do it too

go take a nap dude

whose bringing the cinnamon to the lake

what you’ve never seen a

yeah I want to dip my hands in honey

a gallon jar could go so far

but not if I was sharing

I’m barefoot all the time

but what about the snakes

I’m barefoot all the time

I heard the beetles are coming

back & that it’s just begun

& then it will begin again… what then

have you ever seen a deer skull

crystallizing in a jar of amber serum

have you ever even thought in things

I’m barefoot all the time

but what about the owls

I’m barefoot all the time

a buck charges the red fox out of nowhere

is where we’re all from but not going 

to the vista point balloon eyeballs bubbling

even though we already saw everything

forever & something kelpy was brewing up

from within us again we wanted it

like avocados—we wanted it like potatoes

—we wanted it like tomatoes—we wanted it

like jalapeños—yeah we craved it—no

we needed it but bumbled around like froth

tell me how easy do you think it is to inject a soul

have you ever played hopscotch

on your hands and knees have you

seen where these tunnels lead back to us

I’m barefoot all the time

but what about the sharks

I’m barefoot all the time




.




Skyline

   

                        Come on

                                                               let’s go

            we’re going

                                           to Skyline

      way up windy

                                                  Highway 9

             the windows down

                            thru the redwoods

                  to the ridge

                               just to see all

          the sodium lamps blink

                                             from miles away

    on one side of the street

                                                 maybe the ocean

   at the end of the forest


                                                    or a sea of clouds

  on the other side

                                                where I got a djembe

 to bounce off a distant mountain

                                   & cried like quiet fireworks

 on the fourth of July

                              I’d eat some rootbark

    watch the lunar eclipse 

                            on a blanket

                smoke bowls

                         adjust aperture settings

                         until sunrise 

                they never used

                                       to bother us

           we got lost back there

                              ran jeanslapping & ticklegged

         on one occasion too

                                    all the way down the hillside

  like flatlander baffoons

                                what if this small community

never broke apart like I did

                              who left still rides the 9

  way up windy Skyline

                       the other way to castle rock

         or the old trail that led up

                 to the boulders on the top 

                         of the mountain overlooking

          San José, Los Gatos, Saratoga

                                 Campbell, Milpitas, & the bay

     they shut it down 

                             because of spotted horned owls

  just a gate you had to hop

                    probably more an excuse for the art 

& other forms of debauchery

                          we’d perform like a sacred ritual

  until sunset getting so fucking high

                                   we couldn’t even figure out

           the local kids took a screwdriver

                                        to the tires on the car

                          it had been dark a while

                          before the tow truck driver came

                                  said he grew up driving the 9

                     while we went over waves full speed

                      tears of sparks cried from the mirror

             I had to wonder if you were a fan 

                     of sucking the glass dick

                                 one night we were out there

         & the weirdest thing happened

                 we stayed until sunset smoking blunts

    the shadow of the mountain 

                           crept it’s way over the blinking 

streetlights turning on down there

                                    we could hear a television

    on loud from hella far away

                                   way way out over yonder

                  but it wasn’t actually

                                 we listened closely

                      we couldn’t believe it

                                 people were playing 

                                 the hokey pokey

                      somewhere down the mountain

            where our laughter must have roared

       echoed through the thick forest

                                                       we were above

  though the sounds grew louder

                                             the people were slowly 

getting closer

                               that’s when it dawned upon us

  it was an old recording

                                                maybe from the 50’s

     looping over & over

                                 from a small raspy speaker 

                coming up the trail beneath us—

         You put your head in

   You put your head out

          You put your head in

                           & you bang it all about

                                         —I wanted to stay

                           one of the girls booked it

                                     we all took off like a mob 

                                  into the dark forest

                                  the only flashlight we had

                                      started strobing 

                           then totally died

                                         like the beginning

                     of a horror movie

                                                    left open ended

          there were these tunnels

                                      you’d have to crawl under 

      somehow forged thru manzinita

                                     by wildcats & rock climbers

  we’d get on our hands & knees

                                          with backpacks & the acid 

already fully metabolized

                                                  waiting for the effects

  that would hit us on

                                                      the sandstone rock

    overlooking thirty miles

                     of the Santa Cruz mountain range

             a single oak tree growing up shading

                                                      like a symbol

                        bowls & shelves formed

                            into it with lichens at the surface

                                        barefoot in the sun

                                        back when pipes 

                             still had personalities

                                             we’d speak in paradox

                       or not at all

                           gaze out over the whole forest

               dancing & the pastel mandalasky

                                     rippling forever & ever 

        we got to see it with our own eyes

                                     & yeah we were a little late

      getting back to the cars

                                                  everyone was gone

  except a ranger with his light

                        shining in our dilated faces

most of us still carrying our shoes

            after soaking our feet in the water

                          I had to talk my way 

  out of a ticket I was so sorry

                    for wasting their time

    we didn’t know how long

             it would take to get back here

             we were so far out there

       enjoying the park

who was it that put on

     Stevie Ray Vaughn 

                 I couldn’t handle it

I had to drive back home

                        down the windy 9 in the dark

   You need to turn this shit off

                               There are snakes in his throat




.


Jasmine in July 

       We made a pact
                                        never to tell
                a single soul
how long did that last
    I wonder
                  I don’t know


             you made up this word
                                snaggleclatch
         you’d bark it incoherently
                                   until they banned you
                            from saying it at school


             we made a pact
’cause we even knew it
                way back then
there’s only one thing
worth living for


         how were we supposed to know
       a pact
                  like anything
            can die
                        a friendship bracelet
                        that no longer exists
          & once bound us together
     like bearings in San José
      near Nickel City


we made a pact
never to tell
                                                a single soul
     chugging jolt cola
               watching porn      wondering
                     how to pronounce cüm
         scrubbing the history
          even though we’d always hear
          your hot nurse mom getting pounded

Grandpa was a retired sniper
                  he’d let us scope in with no loads
                  on neighbors from behind the blinds
                  with his tricked out h&k
            we were out on the pavement dreaming
      of handrails
up to our chests
      we’d never be able to hit
             not in a million years


      I’ve never
been much a stranger
 to being watched



.