Jungle Of Spines ("Nervous Isle" series, 2 of 5)

My anchor climbs overboard and sinks it's teeth in sand:

"Oh no! Oh no, no!"

A sickly serum crawls up it's legs and fucks it's eyeball strands:

"Oh no! Oh no, no!"

The woods are mewing, heaven looks foolish.

Rapids are lusting, heaven's got a thong on.

Boots form drunken DJs run off arm-in-arm with us,

Twitching from their lunar fits, shooting up some witch's dust.

A jungle of spins, nerves rubbing on each other

Heavy with the breaths of heart attack scams,

A jungle of spines is where you'll find me, lover;

Write back to me some time next week...

Our rides a beak made from a beauty queen,

Wrapped up in some teenager's horny dream

And our tuxedos are pressed-in recycled sex toys,

Lips puckered so hard they gag in joy

And dance and dance with hallucinating natives

So wild and charmed and pixelatd

And fuck away our feelings and our minds

Just like grandfather clocks who forget time.

God bless the Nervous Isle!

Shackled to the shocks of eleven dusty clouds,

These villagers take us to their neo-utopia.

Breath-taking satellite imagery of kaleidoscopic structural lungs

Commemorate, annunciate, cpaitalize, and prophesize

Like a plucked, down-and-out assasin.

The word "celebration" and it's counterparts

Tag their selves upon my crew, while we walk gawdy

And bashfully tall into these stranger's bedrooms.

We Sail The Circuitry Sea! ("Nervous Isle" series, 1 of 5)

"All aboard the S.S. Carnival!" (shout the Sweepstakes Clientele)

"Tonight, we set sail for The Nervous Isle.

Wrapped and bound in Medusa-snake hands,

Cluttered in the mystery of the trial!"

We sail the Circuitry Sea, sapphire waves swollen, on repeat.

We connect cables from our heads to the frothing seafoam beds

And take in all the noise she offers, leaving clues of the aging monsters.

You know she's synthesized, a haute slow-motioned bride,

Collecting bachelors on her back, like a blurred synchronized trap.

Keep the rhythm of pageantry slow against your horror

Keep the rhythm of a drum machine pressed on human error.

So starry the night on a Circuitry Sea!

We gawk like Awkward Cranberries at her shiny freckles

So blissfully shy, she flinches form the squeeze,

A heavenly exhale, a breeze! Hisses like a scandal

All in all, we're whole. A carousel, we're whole.

Embrace the lunar fits, the 80s twist, the unabashed banishment.

We sail the Circuitry Sea, as Awkward Cranberries choking on dreams

Of sweaty scams, summer campaigns,

Jewelry hands, holiday tomb manes,

Of...land!

The Dock

Kahlua-sprinkled carcasses are splattered on the sea floor.

Their horny mantras go unheard and spiral like western noir.

My teeth bleached and rotting bite at frustration-fed delights.

And ransack the caretaker's cottage, just to rat on the burly boss.

Sweet, surly, sultry, farm! Blanketing their cots with domination.

Shopkeeper's "fuck" alarm! Goes off at the smell of abomination.

They sail painting the phallus sky a dizzy shade of blue on the S.S. Telephone Wire

They dock and board more octopi fluttering about like an open-book pyre.

Therapeutic nails claw out the chest,

Shocking knives collect modest amounts of tension.

Carpal tunnel kaleidoscope reeks of volleying threats,

They look and find eight counts of empty lessons.

"It's fucking hot like a bride-to-be's dance floor

These seas of muscle flex and protrude some more

On the shores...we'd better disembark" they implore.

They scratch at jaws itching anxiety

With the sides of ports and the parades of palm trees

And I know, that we're not better off alone.

I say "absolve air".

They say "dissolve and dilute".

They're like the family of musicians I never had.

So let's see what's at the dock.

The Ambushes

We are the coroner's resuscitated plaything wrapped in skin.

We're the virus conjugating at the perforations.

We're the battered batch tossed into the junkyard jungle,

Licking at diseases that house card trick muffles.

Vacate the flesh! Paralyzed mess!

Conceal the pheromone-pumped apocalypse!

And then we'll ransack a rockstar's sick dream!

Nooses that scream like how microphones sing.

We'll rob that jackal of his whiskey and

Drink on isles dreamed up in high class diaries.

Vile roar roars in your heartthrobs

Vile roar roars a chord of infamy

Press on! Press on! Towards the gagged shoreline so we can

Roar vile roars into the skylines.

They'll open up and hand out designer trees

And turn to lost postcards and jealousy

That turns brittle in the sun.

Twenty years in this drilling bed.

Ten months cooking on the sea.

Sex hours signing dotted lines

Three minutes dedicating lives.

And I'm still not giving in.

No, we're not giving in.

Boss Of All Bosses

The Boss of all Bosses

Collects women's arms and men's dominance and leaves them with a salty debt,

Like a charming tattoo.

The dance floor writhes under the precipitation of his mistress mumbles,

He conquers crimes and sells them back like a moral juggle.

Heated lights don't dare to fire the blame at him,

The martini glasses cackle form their dizzying spin

On top of his electric stage stuffed with the underage,

His sassy fingertips applaud his opulent ways.

Come share a toast with the Boss of all Bosses.

In the house of classes, the man with the chandelier smile is revered as top bill.

The piranha's threat travels from the bedroom back into his gills.

His heaving hands collide against the gawking sky

And bring it down into the place where dealers lie.

Collect in calamity, the Boss of all Bosses.

Revel in the sultry, the Boss of all Bosses.

Mastodonz

One denoted for being a scavenger.

My shining tapestry of ravages rival that of the sun.

Carnal knowledge combs my blood and shifts it into chaos shortly after.

To pry into the outlandish carnival of carousing swoons,

and lift them up for glory blemishes of the sensuous sky.

Let's meet on the blacktop, mastodon, in the saucy afternoon with sirens on!

Forget all consequence as we chew on blood napalm as a peace offering.

The grey clouds sway like the noose and offer a K-hole, distraction!

Dilapidated distress, sultry S.O.S.: I've got new cataracts that blind me of duress.

So long.

How willwe all fly by? Like comets collecting bribes,

From unsuspecting skies, we're fireflies.

Diffusion in a room of ghosts rivaling their doom,

Burlap sacks in burlesque bars revealing shining wisps of woo!

"I'm hungry for the young, the guiltless plaque.

Cause quakes like mastodons, eat broken glass bouquets.

Partake in chivalry and indulge in homegrown remedies.

Settle down."

"When you were a child, you rode on quivering streams made of collectable dreams, and so forth.

When you were so young, a rose of saccharin thorns in your head, you adorned.

(Collect me) And now without a pulse you galloped fervently dim into the gallows' noose still,

You vanish calm, into the sky."

Oh, right. Nooses netted with the 808 beats of a mastodon stomping around causes

The pixie dust to plume out from the ground like a blissful mushroom cloud.

As chaotic as an alphabetical sea.

This is circumstantial evidence: to the best of my recollection,

The styrofoam smile of the beast secretes an aerosol aesthetic that's more suited towards

The wise man behind the freeway!

Oh, mastodon, you've exhilarated us with that daunting reputation,

From that which may try to possess us, and would dare to expand that tapestry of ravages.

To ride the mastodon, we could devour entire Empires of Sulfur and Tulips,

And turn them into a dance floor.

Bullhorns, Meet "Fuck"

Cultured arrogance is bursting through vacancies,
Seldom whistle tunes of universal relevance.
Cranberry riddles secrete out the cheeks,
Smells more sacred than religion.
Hazy harmonies flock to gaping tool sheds and burn,
Burn a deeper chrome.
Every shade is ever more vibrant, but lack the genuine glow.
Am I scared of disheveled trumpets? Their drones pluck my passions.
Voluptuous like Rosetta's stone, but cataclysmic all the same.
So this is youth, or is this youth? A bag full of nerves claiming to know truth.
And maybe they're right. They mastodon-march inside that leather bag-husk,
Pupa husk, larvae line-routines.
Another bullshit cry from antique bullhorns falls brittle on
Ears of orgasms and attention, redefining the wheel, the classic cool.
But it's so hard to believe, so hard to accept, when I am one of them.
Or am I that out of touch? How can I be, when these sonnets are
Exactly the fucking same? The classic cool, redefined.
Where is elegance? Where is eloquence? Where is ambiguity? Where is anonymity?
So this is youth.
So this is youth.
So this is youth.

Tea Party Of A Witch

My beloved guests,

Drink deep from offered opulence.

We sit atop bridges all day

With puffed-out chests, causing carpool decay.

Wine rot innocence,

Lick the bottom of a chalice.

We now refine fast in my den,

Assume an orgy of decadence.

The flames under the cauldron dance

With tarantism, lacking circumstance.

Transparent tea from horny leaves

Coax spirits out to ditch bodies.

Lime bats with wings of sweets

Watch as their corpses scream mutiny.

Betrayal from a witch

Collects their gawks so counterfeit.

Rob life from the robbers,

Lift them by the snout and smother.

Cruelty rains from my throat,

Ending vapid lives while sweating bones.

This change of heart comes at a price:

Cascading diamonds, lucrative crimes.

Tea party poison from deities,

They liberate you, and reprimand me.

The Kids Are Getting So Much Older

I'm cooked at the fingertips,

Fly swat freckles lynch my judgment.

Collections of school teachers

Nag cowardice into play like eretions.

Dizzying ballets from teenagers

Lick at the puffed chest of acceptance.

While I watch from a flagship

Cumming at the peacock mantelpiece.

Take me to the schoolyard like classic slang!

There's field made of soundboards playing sex in repeat.

The young fangs can gawk at buds while facing in a cage!

Nurse, please prep the night for the march of adultery!

Sweet secretion! Sour hole!

Pumping out hot angst like a bicep engine,

Lactating butter love form a pheromone kitchen

Sweet secretion! Sour hole!

They shake and rattle on hospital beds,

Looking up through glass to separate heavy heads.

A Crude Portmanteau Of Love And Desire

This is the angry love poem, by all meanings you can conjure up,

This is the angsty break of false freedom that

Everyone acclimates to after a break up.

A crude portmanteau of love and desire,

That is you.

Shock

Clear water's breathing fumes again,

And bribing the sky for it's murmured grin

It's chalice crashes along the shore and waits

Jotting down in ruptured eyes all that's bold and fake.

My spandex visions collaborate at the skull

Sipping mischief-flavored champagne dripping so wonderful

The shore is chock full of fucking scum

Working out and flexing egos til exasperation

Last week's flavor is this week's ridicule

We're all fucking starving for a new kind of cool

Nicotine spurts crab-walk their way to the gutter

Performing surgery harmlessly on one another

From Here Til Tomorrow

From the graveyard to the recovery room,

You never cease to shine less astounding.

Your pale skin wrapped in blackened everything

Charms me into a state of mental climax.

Gutted nicotine beauty marks spot the trickling conniptions

Coming straight from my chamber

Climb into an unkempt suture

Drink up the poison and lecture your manners

I feel like bombing out your carapace

That won't cease to stop causing a ruckus

Containment in a locket of a face full of decrepit discretions.

Collect Me Collective

A vice on loose ties,

Carry out that sentence, holding fast the tongue that licks

And tastes just like yours.

You all are the white-noise children that bat eyes as a collective,

A tribe that babbles familiarity, on and on and on and...

Single out that viper,

Redemption cooking under outstretched skin,

Birthin baked zeppelins dropping cacophonic bombs,

Screaming those words.

You know my name but not my face.

I scratch and pry into the eye of the storm,

But no words come out of the mumbled mutters.

No redemption.

No recollection of that unpolished fang you cast out.

There's no fare that matriarch will accept.

For her tongue and mind is as twisted as her own viper.

Like-minded siblings, form a shell and smother my brothers.

Suffocate my sisters.

Transform them into undead that look just like you.

Walk through a glowing graveyard shrouded in delight

And let me choke on it with you.

Let me gag under your trenches, over your pointed fingers

And let's become undead alike.

Fraggle Rock

Don't taste of my dreams

Born blind in my teens

Where the jackyl lays waste to the mouth agape

And stuffed with morphine.

Don't suck from my dreams

Blessed to be obscene

They look like cataracts staring at disheveled newscasts,

Television screens.

I'd hate for you to grieve bad news,

But we;re all still alive, waving flags made of knives

And a rugged bruise.

I'd hate for you to waive the noose,

But a million sickled knots couldn't clot the rot

That's come for you.

Bloodbaths and frenzy

On circuitry seas

We're a ship made of noise with a dock full of boys

Begging for broadcast teams.

Contracted lovers

Hide in you covers

Batter high-five brides with cons between their thighs

To watch you mumble.

The classic brand settled down and pay the rent

Your drugged-down yesteryears lay in a pool of lament

They're singing "Oh, oh, oh...give us one more chance!"

Collecting compound lies and throwing them in the back of a van

Like a gunman, you take sight with a squited eye

But desire what lies on the other side.