Sprinkler Systems

 

It is with sadness

unease of passage

to report confirmation

slipstream of a sketchbook

death of,, depth of

by the millions

cardboard cutouts

sideways glance

through slotted ovals

magic marker tears

smearing away

wiping blunted gray

fingertips obscure

their facial features

 

Its fracture redounds

graded sun-cast light

off-kilter shadows

echoes not quite vivid

as life imprints

yet more imbedded

more real than shifting

scapes of dreams

 

Line enraptures

a moment’s queue

awe of beauty

plaza marquee

spun down frame

black metallic spider

larger than circling otherwise

web glowing

the summer dusk

waiting ensconced

above a melee of

waiting cars

transcending cities

 

Moved to remark

words lifted and erased

breathless sound

gasping inward heaves

the spider waved down

breezily motioned

like leaves or a snowflake

crushed beneath his feat

leather shoes

kind of orange

maybe brown

a passing moment

mortal amusement

keeping good company

ceremonial rites

of planned obsolescence

 

MM 8.2023

Post-Positive Addition To Your Culture

 

Vintage Watching Eye from The Graphics Fairy

There was this incredible amount of

residual weight and space carving

as a chisel and a light tap hammer

might while looking up brightly voided

out in the ceiling a blank canvas

in which to carve out a new churning slate

 

Dreams set in and then hours burn

until their wake and imprint locks and strains

its tension inertia upon extremities at rest

 

The façade of movement in repetition

patterns strewn in piles of stained logic

planned and plotted, pointed in one direction

and another from the bed to the sink

to the drain, then moved again to cover

signs of distress

 

Its lift, inverse weightlessness

burrowed parasite feeding on the guts and brains

freely dispersed to attendees

immersed in shunting feigned consensus

in absentia

 

MM 5.2023

Pleated Pulse

 

Realignment

arrival in

 brunt of nature

 be it God or Gravity

a name or a place

drop off the image

 center

 

Present moment

seam circadian origin

 reflex signals

 the way down

pulse-distortion-chambered

 drifted solace

 silent earthen hue

 

At this point

 its circulating pulse

 is a spring bleeding life

 to limbs and limits

 to yours or mine

clay vessels

 or warm relics

 

MM 12/2022

Cross-Trigger

 

Chrome worshipper

hung by trigger of the cross

filth begats filth

seeded and sprung

feeding compliance

rotted through tubes

film on the side

of the plastic

 

wage paranoia

choking

wet dream

fully involved

forced into carry

your fetish equation

needs death

to equate this

 

procession

you’re the next stop

news doesn’t digest

but turns on itself

mainlines analysis  

as if lost

its translation

unmoving

 

there is no table

no shared experience

grief is frozen

re-allocated horror

is waged

its plastic breaks

down ad infinitum

seeding new poison

 

MM 5.2022

Ricin

 

English: Machine gun Maxim drawing 1905 Public Domain

  

  Jagged stone exterior
rugged face razor
corners cutting dirt
falling through its history
assembling in a mass
weathered lines and heaps
alluvial fan blades
   The first hit was free
intolerance coded
sedated DNA
the fog of war
its god and absence
truth conjecture
frozen hemispheres
spherical orbits
inches from your aura
   There’s a wind it’s bitten
through skin dry teeth
dragging blood across
dripping down the sand
she said parched
in the sun they ran
dripping mainlined mass
ideology, recovery
   The movement’s mass
its cataclysm waits
ice and chiseled earth
hollowed from within
dripping in the water
deferring judgment
 
MM 3.2022

A Series of Explosions

  

Thank you - Sara's funeral free public domain

Settled just-in frame
bordered not elegant
yet soothes
familial patterns
their blessing is life
untethered
 
these are two tracks
once surreal
or settlement
others horror
fragments
unredeemed
repaid daily
 
counting off breaths
light-grafting rays
filtered through beams
amber leaves
azure bedrock
rooted in sky
 
this dimension resets
frame which
I draw forth from
 
I whispered  
to others in line
thought aloud
while driving away
death has its way
with resolution
 
for anyone
who ever lived
who aligned
life’s movements
at best
its resignation
bizarrely unwinding
 
MM 1.2022

You Can't Go Back

 

Public Domain - A run down cabin in the woods

I drove

into deep wooded forest

with a depth of green

soft-filtered light

 

working its way

broken increments

all the way through

to the ground

 

    A novel place

that rolled and roiled

embedded somewhere

in my line of sight

 

it replayed its view

in continuum

by the time

I’d made it through

 

    If only

small pieces made a trail

thousands of years

untread

 

damp moss cool

crawling up the light

tracks are laid

to be shined out

 

MM 9.2021