Every painted horse,penned Every rusted horse at old adobe' wall All, making their way to and out of the ground. Sidewinders' tails con-trail in sand, Thoughts of her man. Texas farm widow rides ferrous wheels. Last summer Hercules spoke his tractored disc and harrow. Deep plow ran furrow line to porch held boots. Cobbs in 'em now, wheels once turning, stopped,slanted. Dreary-eyed mare just foaled. Widow looks at sky. Her boy had married,gone to town. Last berry pie's in the paine, sunset on ...

Guitars time lifts heel and knee, wrist and fan fall in diminuendo; Islams high howl tap,tap.....fast clapping from close chairs, cigar smoke, burning joss, my eyes begged her to quit the heat from smoke came castanettes I was her slave and fuel to burn

I woke up sober Sunday morning, no money for a Saturday night. A fishermans life I'll flense and flee. Sun blazes on my naked hooks pulled from a naked sea I tie my boat to China beach, railcars filled with toys and dildos; trains to take them off to mart. Hopping off from boat to dock I look for something steady in a sea of change. Compass spinning wildy, I made a bearing through dead reckoning. A billboard sign above the old cannery pointed the way; I'd catch the next bus out. A pensive pa...

Deaths hand reached out to pluck a sweet drop of sweat,not yet departed The time between two ticks that eternity when nothings said Each was swimming in the pool of it the time when deaths not dead Tired of crumbs he'd taken falling from times table Something living he was wanting this sailor in the shoreline he could see was soon not to be He bent to nestle in the sailors ear sirens simple fable "Forget your questions and the sea find beauty in me here's a bottle and a needle together we'll...

I came upon a poet in a stream, bent at the waist was he,looking straight at me, blue eyes sad and crying. I asked him who he was,where he'd been, what he'd seen. An open mouth,no words were heard. My only way into his brain was for us together take a drink of yesterday again. And as we kissed today goodbye, drinking in this stream of thought, My arm around his mind;my id Down the stream we slid. From the bank,my memories to me were waiving in a slow parade.

This boat party had no legs. L.A. harbor stunk my tie-up lines; barnacle held under pilings thin and rotten. It was the fresh pidgeon shit that made me slip to the loo over anchovy net corks and face plant into its scaley web piled high. I was in that sort of shape, "listen to your innards", I'd just finished reading his work. "About face,go find Charles Bukowski". Left foot led the way, right foot drug at Forty Thieves fish and ice. We held each other in the corners of our eyes. Up the hill...

Standing 'tween two rocky craigs , from the hills and breaking shore made. Trunk,needles and boughs slanted. Seed by wind blown, not planted. As I stand on this precipice, looking out to sea; I keep a windblown visage as this tree. Blow great sea! And bring to me, your wisdom once again; dash upon my rocky mind, make a beach of it long and fine, where castles struck by children made to dance and dance the day away.