Wild Indicatives

Wild indicatives find a new reality England meanwhile is battling its own premonitions sometimes I go into the kitchen & grab a cookie if we run out of toilet paper we can use the New York times

Nocturnal emissions affirm a description of fingers rags dipped in chronology Iceland in my breath the world has become a very strange place the bottle travels through its glass when empirical reality becomes too heavy to bear it’s only natural to seek refuge in the realm of idea these aren’t my intentions they’re my distensions the fragrance of rock daphne enlarges my disposition toward sculpture there was a time when music crushed the zeitgeist of greed & status & was replaced with protoplasm & amps 

I’m a longshoreman of words I’ve carved the day out of the night & hung it from the moon psilocybin squids dance around a water sprinkler when the world turns destructive we evoke gods

This is evidence of my vintage maladjustment Mel Gibson on a motorcycle parallels breaking into crayons what a shame that nothing in this world can be resolved

Spectral blisters pepper all the flags I see the memory of an eye sleeping on the wall puddles are outlaws of water it’s why I prefer the dramatic life consumed by interior fires my tongue is a monster of charming spontaneity a basket full of Hungarian haikus

Here I am lounging around in a blue canoe tortured by destiny or the very lack of it the floor understands my feet fossil light of the universe draped over the back of a chair

Mosaic of music mosaic of faces mosaic of pandemonium the intellect is caught in abstractions that don’t engage our subjectivity alchemy nibbles on the darkness the river shifts its silt around

The moon is beautiful in the gloom length distributes the degrees of the thermometer none of these words are under my control I love the mutation of comparisons music is a panacea I’m not quixotic I just like doing The Twist everything I know has been cooked in clairvoyance knuckles languishing in the warmth of a glove

Mastodons progress majestically through the courtroom I walk around in a violin a cup of coffee stitched together by an orange hippopotamus named Donald

I find strange fictions in the curio ditch the practice of law is perfect for television the cry of the violin burns the world down byzantine elbows correspond well with skin the mountain curves the light the broiler is surrounded by knickknacks the syntax is birch I feel daylight crawling around in me our camaraderie gave birth to a suburb

I once saw a man boiling potatoes outside by a garage forget your lust for the rich man’s gold maybe I should grow a mustache the black shines it’s a new kind of light individuality has a delicate pathology an old movie ticket falling out of my hand a notable smudge of disgruntled patina

Are you feeling religious or rudimentary emotions are octaves on the scale of existence ambiguity inspires the clarity of string Tom Cruise flying a helicopter over the Himalayas of Kashmir

I like to float among fabrics the gourd is a gauge of process an old man dancing in a frenzy to liberate the bird within my perspectives are turquoise these are my words & now they’re your words Guinea pigs & mosquitoes infer verdure girls giggling by the kitchen window during a pandemic my jacket is festive filaments of music aglow with desire there’s no insurance for a broken heart those crazy insistent drums in Harry Nilsson’s “Jump Into The Fire” my zipper is homogenous but the eucalyptus inclines toward stone crickets fill the freight car with the unassuming music of night

I remember the meadows of California I remember paradise in a woman’s mouth I remember the weird dramas in the pageantry of drugs a cowgirl electrifying a stadium of rodeo clowns physics is the heroin of the blackboard

Age has no meaning politics is filth actors fountaining Shakespeare it’s always really nice to take a warm shower after running a long time in the cold of winter there are chickens in the potholes feudalism in the air I can mumble I can multiply I can resolve nothing but I’m sure the deployment of these words is a three-pronged spear hurled at the prattle of the practical