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The name afforded this body is Paul Skyrm. You may call me by True Name. I am a poet in Aurora, accepted to Jack Kerouac School of Disembodied Poetics, August 2003. Buddhist-Mountain-Scrawler-Wild-Minded-Hammerwind-Poet.

confluence of maizen street-light nebula
breakout


CONFLUENCE OF MAIZEN STREET-LIGHT NEBULA

A time-bomb of stammering noxious noise!
You may reveal a human's pertinence in relation
        to themselves by language left dumbstruck
        on half-bitten tongues!
Fibrillating for opium-readers
        abandoned in one-room school-desks
        slightly Communist stammering
        Surrealist manifestos with assholes too blind
        to remove oneself from admiration & fragility.

STOPLIGHT! - All three bulbs showing off their bright ass!

        RED- skinned radish
        YELLOW- harvest
        GREEN- farmer

Mold on Granny Smith devouring blatant repercussions
Routes 44 & 82, Bar to the right-
torso on a corner.

        Gas-station
                                        11 o'clock
locked - shut up
            strangling liturgy out of genital
                                         Catholic mutiny

           Sucking gas pumps

                                         Consumed petroleum

Peace lily-explosion

When something works this well                     you pass it
on
And meditate dialogue retain terrain retains original forgiveness.

YES! YES! SI!

All cued overtly from cosmic lips is Original Sin!

All blasted from Holy Orator is Original Forgiveness!

Gracias Santo Francis!
Gracias Santo Beautitudo!

Would you rebuke 21st Century appearance
Saint-hood for greasy armpits & broken tibias?
Laying tracks of stiff-ore across the reclining nude America?
Your apparition harpoons
The window of Creation

        Deadening sustenance
        inducing trust
        revealing Grandfather Boy Walt Whitman playing terminal
solitaire

raising the stakes
        as man increases in succulence.

Would you St.Francis continue the echo?
Or would you direct traffic?

All signs are

        GO!

Automobiles hesitate
        before siren.


Breakout

for Good Pilgrim, Bryan Gattozzi

For the foreign light shines otherside nomadic Orb,
how queer Asiatic angels do trample from moonlight
brimming over Kent cornucopia 3AM dream!
Steve Earle staccato strummin'
summons East Grant Street spectres outta jazz booze clubs
into the streets under honey glow streetlight.

reckon these nights gonna stay with us.
dig themselves under skin
get mixed up in the course of blood
zoom down alleys and pump our hearts full of napalm & sweet Chicago
Kessler
brew.

You aint got nothin' to fear!
I clutching tin can beer chalice pulsating 'round parched lips easin
back in
high-neck couch!
you brought down by moonshine hunched arms orangutan cleaving swimming
in
smoke &
Dylan grizzly bear chompin berries in eyeballs!
we gonna be alright here! Don't need wear no ochre robe, Heaven's
colorblind!
cigarette in plastic grave bulbous thigh
and calf sheathed in woolen see-through vestibule
trapped in gapless tooth root smoking incandescence
o!
      let down your stocking! Let me see your heaven ash
  smoldering my breath
assembling golden bodies of gods!
we are constructing quasi-moto bridge here in this mandala of Kent bone
sands
  so zombies may make passage ; the ancient howls of dismembered
tribes seethe through pin hole concrete sipapus       whirls of
eternal
dynamos
cracked sidewalks shattered men carrying succulent virgins clear of
Orc's
grip
clear of the belching demons setting aflame  this white statue
cathedral
third floor Dogen mystical portcullis weaving our heavenly brains
to the stem of Truth
fleeting as bright smiles  fleeting as bowed winos moonlight
shufflin' 'cross four-lane grey path like pythons through tall grass in
Tibet
hissing driven by toes & fingers of frankincense   sitting monks high
atop
Himalaya
weezing  humming  roaring

caterwauling ghost chariots gallop light pole reflection
starry night crying in Guggenheim ear drums bursting bleeding
confusion!
so if thought changed infinite to a serpent who speaks for the lonely
foreman
conducting Ravenna Ohio General Electric Philharmonic deaf & blind
shriveled
throat.
breath a missing persons billboard stripped and re-christened Holiday
Inn
Kids Stay Free Blimp Route 43 dream!

who speaks for the Negro psychotic angel Mother hurling pumpkins into
scoundrels' cock-starved prowlin'?

who speaks for those gone before us when they right where with you & I
drunk
& insane
clawin' high the faces of darkened spiritual materialists
rappin' on windows
WAKE UP! WAKE UP! COME INTO THE STREETS! AIN'T NOTHIN' TO FEAR!

Where does the Infinite
allow It-Self a moment of no thought?
a moment
collapsed over American Standard
vomiting out demons shackled & locked caverns deep & empty
emphysematic presents tied with shed skin bows
taped and glued
bones brittle as autumn leaves enraptured
burning devils out! out! burning devils out! out! burning devils out!
out!
out! out!

we starve
in November grow ripe in December forgetting in January nothing ever
changes
  nothing
ever dies!
Ain't got no thing to fear for the foreign light makes passage through
Cuyahoga Harbor
& this light dreaming it-self a leper whirls us to hurl empty Labatt
genie
Longnecks into Holy Void shattering!
blizzard of 10,000,000 mirrors flooding over us & every homeless
prophet is
reflected there!
every homeless prophet who wrote mountain man eco-economy manifestos
on the back of Northfield no good $24 trifecta tickets stuffed 'em up
trotter
snouts and waited for the wind to blow them home! who drank whiskey
till
collapse & angel bar maid wrapped him in her dead husband's flannel
coat and
laid him on the pool table!   who sat zazen Standing Rock cemetery at
the feet
of white lady come to gather the lambs!

In the sight between, the still point
turning single moon draws us to sleep
and I lay down on the butterfly pull-out.
your bedroom door closes the light left on
and I am here in darkened world
heart turning single moon


I rest with your five-fingered Royal utter Baltimore chop killer
pressed to chest

gravity collapses break me open
out pour the spinning globes
locked in axis.

windows unlocked & shut
sad sad torrents of Avalamandar squeal through night  swine butchered
hang eagle  arctic metal hooks tacked to frame of Self  strain against
the
gravity.

I the dream through layers rotting flesh & crusted shit
stench of slaughter

I the dream !
                     DON'T ESCAPE PRISION!
I the dream!
                     NEVER WAS NO BARS CAGIN' US!
I the dream!
                     NO WALLS CONSTRICTIN' US!
I the dream!
                     NO WINDOWS MEASURIN' US!
I the dream!
                     NO ROOFS COLLAPSIN US!
I the dream!
                     NO BILLY CLUB SECRET DECODER ORDER OF PANTOMIME
                     HENCHMAN CORRALING US!


O! Tell me you don't see the sun a Hell!
Tell me we'll set cars on fire in Starbucks parking lots!
Tell me you'll sing your song!
the beaten  depraved  degenerate  sold  bought  drunkard  hobo  sing of
you!
Messiah sleeping in Whirlpool side-by-side suite sphincter alley
Buddha blasting for ore  bloodied  gagging on the stink of unwashed
bodies
seven days long!
The Dream sings of you!

Tell me you see morning before word gets out!

blood-hounds chase

Kent, Ohio to  Aurora, Ohio
February 21st 2002 4:57PM
website designed 2002, kathy walker. poetry is reprinted with permission of the listed poets, who retain all rights. thanks to sivasys for providing this space.