Coronation For The Crimson Emperor

Good morning—good morning!— My sunshine daydream You, my love, this morning you Were—there, next to me— Blooming, bloomed! Out indeed Between us— Your pale skin and body —quiet next to me in hum— Blooming like a deep red rose —this and you so sudden in the Morning, in the dawn next to me! You deeperContinue reading “Coronation For The Crimson Emperor”

Utah Gothic

(for June Alice Thedell) Silence—the shutter—chill and still Across grave stones in a graveyard In Smithfield, Utah, its Claim in the dirt—Sacred Soil for Souls—Radical Souls, Soul Revolutionaries, Souls who lifted Themselves up—translated themselves Into Americans, citizens in and of Utah. Utah Gothic. Smithfield, Logan, Roy: northern cities In Logan, Grandmother Alice’s house Was acrossContinue reading “Utah Gothic”

You, Whom I Saught

(for Daniel) No matter where you are– I still hear you when you –dream– You sing out so very far Your voice so bright –like a star– and–we–are All of our tomorrows rushing up– Every tomorrow: spark, kindle, sparkle BURN–I– spark myself up Just for you Light my heart ablaze and through every torched momentContinue reading “You, Whom I Saught”

Battleship 1976

Everyone has bled, but only women and poets need to bleed. Everyone fears and prepares, but only sailors and poets train to hold a knife-blade to civilizations’ throat. Everyone envisions the past, its future, but only presidents and poets preside over free souls as commander-in-chief. I am Battleship 1976. I am ultimate scion to theContinue reading “Battleship 1976”

His Majesty’s Praetorian Word Wonder

Phantom Phantasm and Phantom within phantom –the Rolls Royce Grey Ghost and his Grey Great Grand Damn Damme– Wonder wander word wand wild world –the barren Swedish snow is still a desert as sure as any in Asia or Africa. I don’t just better work–I work better under high contrast and excellent excitations. Window sillContinue reading “His Majesty’s Praetorian Word Wonder”

My Beautiful Weird, Bent Revolution

Split a block of wood, –we are there. Pluck or plant a flower –we are there. Read sci-fi, or scripture, through a Summer rainstorm –and we are there. The swell of tides and a woman’s womb, silent-now toys, and night in a child’s room: we are there. God, the soul, died long ago, but stillContinue reading “My Beautiful Weird, Bent Revolution”

My Beautiful Bent, Weird Revolution

I’m tired of things only meaning one or two things. I’m in love with orthogonality: one becomes five becomes ten-thousand becomes purple, becomes God. I have reenlisted in the Poet Core to serve on this, a top secret mission– which, as poetry, means I tell everyone who reads or hears this poem: the secret ofContinue reading “My Beautiful Bent, Weird Revolution”