itburns

Big Sur
Dust to dust sperm to worm
pull up from the sludge and cry out
spit out the rage
suck up the fear
lock yourself in and drive drive drive
quiet the nervous cables circuitries
spinal cord and fingers
drool for the bell that rings on and on
any given day
it's just that
take what you can and strike back
all the spacious smog and stucco skies
cant belie the truth in her eyes
gone are the dusty gods of duck and cover drills
stardust that makes the hand that pulls the precious bones from the sand jump from the rock into the cool waters and she shines
she shines
gone are the dusty gods of echo cathedrals.


One
The blue flame that warms the national living room
the only window in the house
the only window that matters
blanketing the whole world under one big cultural front lawn Irish Italian American Tokyo Disneyland Hollywood hollyworld pluck out my eyes
grind me into dust
lift me up make me whole
make you one make you one of us
pluck out my eyes
grind me to dust
bear my child lift me up
make you one of us
make you part of our American family
we receive while we sit before our screens
teach us
set us an example we can all live by.

Get At 'Em
Not a whole lot changes
I'm too many heartbeats a minute
my bed is sheet- twisted and I'm sleepless
my brain is baffled boggled and battle-fatigued
I'm my career
I'm radio static
I'm my income traffic the car I drive
I'm panic and I need TV for my dreams
seventh eleven seventh heaven
I'm green I want I need convenience
I am addicted and I'm six digits ambitions bloating
I'm busy noisy infidelities to the dream I had of who I might turn out to one day be
I'm caffeinated and incorporated
cog in the wheel of the machinery
naked aggressive nightly newsish and stress-related on the couch
I'm home plate
I'm crack cocaine and cholesterol
I play hard ball
I mean business and I've got a hard-on for hate
what is a god and whose is this country
when it's only city me and mine
I see my life flash before me when I try to sleep
I am product not a whole lot changes I can.