Acid Bark Of Petroleum Too Waste

For Rocco

Acid bark of petroleum too waste imagine never overhanging the city snake colossal hiss kisses armed icon retching sky too on feasting dawn i at the heart regret ever in this sour game the chaplain’s ten point star strewn too scenes too entertain too stretch too reflex too glacier too gamble too gone tossed too faithful.

Bayway Refinery

Wikipedia Poem, No. 815

w815-sm-c

The blood red light slick on my sky binds skin to skull. I’m not the man you think I am who connects to violence, belching, where sky blinds to understand what I condemn in me. What I connect to skin, to violence, I loved first on the internet. I can’t have known New Jersey before I owned this wretched skull. I’m not the one who connects to violets. Where? There: Where mandible connects to skull. I’m not one for drama. I have no loudness, no spark. I have no loudness for drama. I have no profit for dreams. I am no lout, no prophet. I have sugar sparks for teeth. I split the atom.

House Should Appear to be Hovering in Space

Wikipedia Poem, No. 486

olds-sm

hangstar bendstar 
    frost 
    in supersonic 
sound on wax
    father's affect you receive 
one in 
the air 

report this suspension 
    technique max-herald 
suspended 
    in midair seraphim
    sense force 
and small scientists 
need to employ

emtpy because 
    you left
receive one house 
should appear to be hovering in space
because you recorded 
    uncertain unstellar star bendstar 
    fastenstar staystar

    illusion 
    glorious styptic 
show followed by speakers 
and floatstars bendstars stay up in 
    planes crash 
in speakers as 
temporary stop job hangstar bendstar 
    stay 
up in 
    these paternal jags 

in 
support of an effervescent decision
    this performance    weeks before 
is only a 
temporary 
    stop-among

Statue of My Father

Wikipedia Poem, No. 461

W461-sm
“Almost noon, the distant sun / rode straight above us like a god / aware of everything and like / a god utterly silent. What / could ever grow from this ground / to feed anyone? And who bore / the mysterious child who spoke in riddles?” Philip Levine

my father says sir we do it there shoots 
going end to end and driving medically off
just now touching a sort of president of son's
along with cannot be halved alone with couldn't happen 
        to a worse man 
charge me with his wonderment 
i will have changed the media landscape 
academically through new york a railroad spike 
driven through a hallowed wrist a hollow kiss

i watch something trigger a spike in trading 
on the the futures market 
it takes over my people fractures blood on the 
        crt green landscape 
and if it stays there well maybe now i waste the day 
frankly the father is a masterpiece ego 
let it mean i was reported properly if i will tell it as a story
the reporting will not adapt to every social condition on the 
        gunpowdered horizon
for now though we break the mosaiced stuff with our talking
now i govern anyone who says no and go out 
along the what-if to starve my ideas like spent shot blast

Forbidden Planet with Drooping Almonds

Wikipedia Poem, No. 448

white-hyacinth-with-ant

pupils big 
as street lamps
warming up
      
an 
attack 
of white iron radiator hiss 
father by the ramparts
that bed remember
beside a white work truck 
       his bed
inside the white iron radiator 
       his left earlobe 
  — 
  
tall 
        field
that rampart
               save 
       mending 
    in forbidden planet
      with almonds 
drooping 
    
an albino peacock over a 
small 
         sweet lamp
warming his father's 
        long 

their 
bed
beside the white work truck 
one hit 
of cedarview avenue please

behind the suburburating forbidden planet
       with almonds 
drooping 
      for 
black holes 

near station square and 
          elian gonzalez

          like diogenes' razor-cut baseball fields the 
pigeons 
and buskers take what they are given

and smile

arguing 
in their bed
beside 
     the white iron radiator 
his father's 
long 
white work truck tells me 
         one 
  hit 
    of bart 
simpson acid 

      — $8
          
      hours later
       nyu 
and extensively 
freckled

downtown traffic
masturbating 
     into 
        catcalling 
father's 
  long white 
iron radiator his
      left earlobe — 
tall 
sweet lamps
     warming 
  an 
      exotic
species mending 
over a 
      small 
field
that 
      abuts 
pigeons and overwhelming my maturity overwhelming 

in his bed
beside whiteness
stone-cut blondeness

      hair 
gelled up to an
         insignificant 
     slope
the pigeons 
        overwhelming are not validated by their quantity but rather 
      long 
   white 
iron radiators of their 
  fathers 
    
   long white 
     pupils big 
as big 
street 
lamps
warming 
overwhelming into catcalls
   
scott pulls me 
   one 
    hit 
          of weird whiteness
      stone-cut blonde
         
hair gelled into his 
   left earlobe — 

      a tall field
of rather
      long 
whiteness dotted 
with elian gonzalez
          
      or masturbing the size of an insignificant slope
     at the pigeons and extensively freckled up 

         albino peacock glassine overwhelming 
albino peacock
          glassine over a 
          small suburban-side 
  hit of bart simpson 
      acid 
       
     — $8

    college freshmen 
        and 
        albino peacocks glassine 
         overwhelming in his 
          left ear — lobes of
    tall stone
      that 
abut the palatial valley
at their bedside of white 
iron radiator hiss
they save me 
one 
hit at a time
an 
  attack of whiteness
    a jello-cut baseball sweet lamps
        warming 
       
         for 
      black of weird white 
iron 
      his father's 
      long whiteness
      stone-cut blonde
  
hair gelled 
up 
like an albino peacock
glassine over 
the small field
that ramparts
         they save money 
by drooping 
       in 
   their beds
beside 
one hit of white
pupils big 
       as big as street lamps
warm      
          
the pigeons above and 
my 
      maturing in his 
left 
    earlobe — 

tall fields
mend ramparts
       
        drooping 
        not of this valley
at 
   the pigeons on the white 
iron radiator in his father's
white work truck