the hands
the ticks
the metal parts
working in complete
unison
to all do
the one important thing.

the sun doesn’t set on
our love baby
but it’s dusk now,
so come on

get in the car
i’ll drive you home
and when the stars
come out

pretend not
to notice.

the gravedigger did the dirty work
his shovel rotating as the hands
of time zoomed all around us like
the horse flies on my grandfather’s farm
and there you were,
oh, there you were
your lifeless body looking foriegn in
the moonlight
twisted and distorted
a fairy-tale gone wrong

and what was left of me left
after he slumped you over
started covering you up
dim light
peeking over
the horizon
i drove home and listened
to your favorite songs
and you were alive with me.

he tells me to get some land
some waterfront on lake superior
to get me and some of my fuckin
buddies around and get some fuckin
land
it’s the
largest fresh water source
on the fuckin planet
i’ll never need water
fuck detroit
he says
i don’t have time to
wait around for that shit
i need to get me some fuckin land
and i know he’s right
cuz when the shit hits the fan
at least i know i’ll have a plot
with my name on it
where no one else can stand
and watch the shit fly
or i could always wait till
people want to build shit
there and pay me twice what
i payed for it and fund my
retirement
like the guy
if i make it that long

travelling along the veins
the moon looking over you
as wise as can be as he
knows the value of distance
the distance between words
between you and him

yellow, crooked,
cracked pavement dimly
lit by a street lamp
and this one
stutters
and flashes
all night
along this dilapidated
street

drug dealers hide
in the craters
in the pavement
and growl like
dogs
and the shadows
cast from the
poor street lights
look like dogs

and here you are
crying because
you’ve lost it all
cheeks like
the surface of a
dying planet
recieving it’s last
vital rain clouds
before another ice
age

everywhere you look it’s
either her,
or death,
and in this part of town
the dogs don’t want your
meat
they smell no fear
you are just a worm

and she’s a gone,
so,
you squirm around
feeling wormy
wanting nothing and
living even when cut in half.

in your garden the plants
refuse to grow
and when you take a walk
the natural things they
wilt and bend
repulsed
almost magnetically
by your presence

your a fucked-up modern
day king midas,
man

your a modern day
fucked up kind of king
midas,
man

and all around you is an
invisible force that
turns things off and
makes them die,
and on your ride to work
and on your way home
destruction is all you see

and when you go out
and the pretty things
keep dying
destruction is all you
know

but when you see a flower
you still reach out to touch it
and the pain is anew all
the time.

the fire is throwing light
that bounces off your fair
skin and you are a glowing
vision in the night driving
engines inside of me in the
wrong direction.

i am god and god is a wolf
birthing everything to have
it eaten
and in my hands is destruction
and in my head is the destroyer
of what is good

or what i love, at least

the hunger pains they
ebb and flow
and i doubt its worth
as there is no finality
to be found
forever hunting

gaudy curves that seemed filled
with sugar
perfect like the rolling hills
of tennessee, only pleasantly
excessive

lawless dark brown hair
matching her face
with metal pertruding
through her lower-left lip

she was lost, her figure
filling out a mold made
from fantasties grown stale
and muddied by years
of dissilusionment
and cold

and in the middle of
directing her to muskegon,
after my eyes had travelled the
breadth of her voluptious
body, i told her about it
i told her about her beauty,
i said “you’re gorgeous…
by the way”

and she paused
smiling
with one foot out the door
and didn’t say thanks

she left me for muskegon
with something hidden
inside of a smile and
a pause
perfect like a picture

the autmn decent
chills my chemical roots
and i’m
falling through the smoke
shedding weight to
diminish the rate

this is it
it reminds me of you
take another drag
close eyes

hide

the king of stuff is high on
a mountain-top

city-smoke billowing out of his mouth

his heart pumps ice-water
his feet keep the time
his apathy is magnetic

and the sky will fall while
the king of stuff is still standing

of that you can be sure.

eat it up and go home
pretend you did it right
let the sun come up behind you
smash it all inside your head
make it sound good when you say it
laugh and throw it away
smash it all inside your head
oh you want it you want it bad
you get the shakes and you don’t think
but you think about it all the time
oh you want it you want it bad
but you smash it all up in your head