Long Masticated Poems

Encomium for cumulative collection of trash

The pyromaniac within yours truly
beckons sacrificial ritual
mine burning (man's)
sacred plastic bags
of rubbish (comprised of: hairs combed,
ditto trimmed from dead head,
filthy lucre - ha, phlegm
wrapped in tissue paper,
snips and snails,
and puppy...

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There is, in the Los Angeles area, a well-known brand of milk, called Alta Dena.  Near also,
is the city named Alta Dena, and my grandson lives there.  I asked him if he had...

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In the distance, [He] centers on [Her] shadow,
Resting in the emptiness by the desolate window.
Moth, masticated curtains imprison the light, 
By casing the lampshade and confining the bright.

Faintly in view sits the intense apparition of...

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Beautiful memories will always remain florid every night and morn,
Like a cooling shower that caress the wall of fruitful emotion,
Whose drop is an antidote and a vane of stupefaction 
That warms the pad of feelings...

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The awakening

there are ways of speaking into a mental state
where others feel life as a general meaning
retrieving conceiving
others achieving
inadequate morels
urgency to generate concepts
general liaisons
ignore others intuition to rise to another edition
traveling to other places
faces and...

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Florence McLane

1889 – 1902


Psst… over here!
My toppled tombstone is the one 
With the somber seraph carrying a cross.
My grave is the one that no one can see or find.
My hidden final resting place is in...

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I heard a sound
lilting like reed pipes
wending through air
grown heavy in dusklight
sultry and organic
rising from behind
a pasture heavy with
coarse hairs and droppings
horses and their liquid eyes
shedding winter coats
(and masticated oats)
even they know
they're only scenery
with withers...

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love is not the tale of the cross;
dark diction callous clichés draw,
la-de-da limping of thorn-theme,
snapping at cum renting spun spree

love has never been an excuse;
taunted track punctured passion prunes,
masticated motive masks means,
felon fashion trimmed by...

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it pays being a fostered fool
than to be to injustice cool
felon fight for fame's worth a take
but bruised blitzkrieg by act is made

if meagre mediocrity coaches you on love
that masticated mind prunes moan's gut
stir eerie...

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there was a punctured potter
whose wills strained shuffled shudders
meagre muds moistened massive moans
dark traces drooled, gaunt glows

hoisted zeal hankered hampers:
eerie efforts pruned pulpy pesters
lanky labour leered, futility feigned lame
crushed contractions, callous confetti's crave

damp death drilled...

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Broccoli and blsiteringly crisp chicken chips,
spruced with taut tomato slices damn fresh,
the onions were discs of pungent pleasure,
the sauces were all exceedingly well done,
I went overboard and got a fat stock in,
masticated and in I...

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lanky love's a sassy spell;
airy alakazam, wit's nest
callous cauldron oozing nectar
wanky witchery, salient bicker

its features foil hankering hoists
masticated moaning churn coils
dark dirge clothed'n rustic rhythm
crisp crescendos, masked melody

its reeling riffs are worn to trail;
etched'n concerto...

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sometimes punctured passion's bruised blank:
bounty biddings could trace torn tracks
syllabic silhouettes sighing
dark dribbles - spelled sway of motive

fostered feelings foiling
porous pledges poring fractures
perforated pencil moaning
voluptuous sketches sans vying

masticated mind's tamed template
confetti of canvas cruise crave
gaunt...

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no choice
it lingers

seduced
breath of ether
arisen from ripples
upon our pond

what will nor will
weather nor wither

whether
you walk closer
or run away
to feel

this way or that

the aches
whispers
within your echo

reverberation
abreast

my carcass
masticated
undressed

left of rib
beating
where once one has broken

now stolen
swole

an escape
in summer...

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t'is poem ain't about
jolting jiggery-pokery, moaning mayhem, pored pouts 
shrewd shenanigans, fractured fossils
masticated mood or callous confetti

t'is poem ain't about
punctured politics, la-de-da louts
taunted touts, bruised blitzkrieg
wanky warriors, or perforated police

t'is poem ain't about
burnished braces, damp...

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Baby birds
Tucked in warm pew-nests
Mouths agape to catch 
masticated lies
Rather than growing
Mature enough to bake
The bread of life

Frightened animals
Leaving blinders on
So our blind leader
We can trust and believe 
Rather than being 
brave enough to look
At...

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I have been officially transmogrified into an obsession queen.
I cannot stop singing this song, which is stuck in my dendrite highway.
Not a problem if I had a singing voice, or if I could sing quietly.
Here...

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