Known Associates

Blood

     All about poetry lies Jesus, 

and about Jesus, Egypt. 

     "We showed Pharaoh all Our 

signs, but he denied them 

and paid no heed."

I keep an Egypt secretly in my

heart: never foretell that which

     may never happen: 

on the coast at Sharm, I almost 

sever a finger while slicing 

     onions for rassum: 

blood colors the broth, mirrors 

the sea before me:

          my exit. 

Thomas 

Here is one, here is one

"Look at my motor, little brother."

     four barrel carb

Two boys stillborn just this week

     straight eight

     Hurst shifter

     Unborn Children

Theory Of Abundance 

Matt's dead from liver cancer

     leather seats

From Hollow

          To Hill,

Smell The Spirits'

          Flow

"Pastor blessed my motor."

          Koni shocks

We Own Nothing

     But Moonshine 

JimBob's .38 roulette 

We Hand Off To

     The Children's

Children's Children 

Jethro dead from breast cancer

          dual exhaust 

     wired shut trunk

bladder or the tank

          no seams

     dark muffler

"Can't take my rifle, Cuz."

Zed lost to the sugar

"Squirrel hunt's next week."

Jesus Elected Us To

Guard All That Belongs

     To The Unborn

Ravine swallowed Dodd 

"Brother, see my motor?"

     new belts and hoses

Talking about a child who loves Jesus

Jesus Has

Jesus, star forward, Valley Vipers, 

has his monkey sat atop a purple

Bulls' rucksack chock-full

of pollen from a bogata cursed

by Jesus' heartsong. This monkey,

a real small golden howler from Pilar,

Jesus's dubbed Satan. She wears

a rhinestone collar like an S&M cowboy

afterthought with no lead attached

to confuse any following this affair

which by and large has gone

swimmingly once past the Rio Grande.

Troops in green cast their eyes 

at Jesus and wonder wonders.

Sergeant wanders up with his two

volunteers, sizes up the situation.

Jesus beats him to the punch,

"I'm Jesus and this is Satan, my

monkey, and we're here to call down

miracles on Texas. Yes, sir, we

have brought tádídíín to Edinburg."

Sergeant looks askance at this monkey

who howls like a hot mother peppa.

The three sad sacks exchange glances,

"Alrighty then! Thanks! Carry-on!"

Jesus turns north to renew the quest.

Murder of Note

Who wants to know?     <whois> 

     Tastes like a simulation,

     "He said he was Pan, but.

I think he was just a bad man."  

          What can you teach me 

To fish,      fishers of fish? 

Marketplace has the hosts 

     With the SNL voices.  

     Sounds like a simulation: 

Pretend ur students r motivated! 

     Future GAAP says Honor

Books as intangible like Goodwill. 

     "I can see all the things, 

Things on my kitchen counter." 

Jesus made miracle magic, 

     So who couldn't save Thomas? 

The convention, the standard has 

Been arrived at through tradition, 

Dr Who?  The Creator?     <finger>

          Feels like a simulation,

Tradition     <whoami>     aided 

By ordinary, accepted practice 

     Measured by instruments, 

Using credentialed observers, 

Over peanut butter & jelly.

     Smells like a simulation, 

          You remember who added 

Strawberries to the preserves… 

     Who can pretend heaven is 

A place on earth, but dusty dust 

          Ain't grow nothin' except 

Ghostberries & busted playlands. 

          Looks like a simulation, 

Eyes who wander among palms,

     Dozens of hikers become ill

During trips to AZ waterfalls… 

      Tiny, red sentient beings:

Oy, me chakras r burning! 

     Przewalski's horses return to

Kazakh steppes after 200 jahre.

      Let's be careful out there. 

Who hasn't printed things in awe?  

          Whose typewriter kills

Theists? "Who, who shot Thomas?"

Rona Sequelae

He that sinneth in the sight of his Maker,

shall fall into the hands of the physician.

1 …tempo rubato

     "Dis loud!" 

     "WHAT? ARE YOU FIVE?"

Have you got     

                    a hot numba 

          in floor tonite! 

     Our DJ, Rona, has her 

crew hop 

          hop hoppin' 

Voice of the Theater 

          speakers 

          VR turntables 

     Kitsune breaks 

"When did Heaven get House?" 

"COVID SAID HELLO TO SOME MCs."

We should be dancin' 

     Gotta get down 

          Dancin'!

     Mary: So how's it going with 

your Eldritch Horror?

     Newlywed: Started manscaping, 

so there's that. 

"So, Jesus, did you know…" 

"To whom am I speaking?" 

"Thomas…" 

"Continue."

"My mother wanted me to be 

a physician like Luke." 

"You do you say, don't." 

"What?" 

"Why do you say what, Thomas?" 

"Because my hands are small, she said."

< smallness of hands can 

sometimes indicate 

broadness of mind >

"Hunh?"

"…" 

"Anyway, what's with the new tunes? I did not know Pops liked House!"

Have you git 

                    a hot numba 

          in floor tonite! 

     Our Rona has hashish 

Get up Get on up Get up 

     hava nagila etc 

2 …tempo giusto

     DC C0vidC0mics feature:

     Mayor by day,— 

When the moon rises 

a \ / sigil appears in the Vales Marinara 

(wait Mare something, right?)

     and soon 

          oh so soon 

               too 

(not on the lunar surface, nearby)

     not too far  a w a a a a y, 

          appears The Hare!  

chorus

"So you're partying 

     "And Covid forgot 

          "Like the hobby-horse 

"Dada forgo forgive foregone" 

< springtime hath come as 

Avril with its sweet showers

increases the rue in our bloodstream 

and our hip, our shoulder, 

left middle finger, butthole, 

eyebrows, etc are inflaméd > 

"Aye, not the humidity, 

but long covid like a finger

 in your brain, 

sinuses rebelling, ankles 

swelling, heart a shuddering…"

"Thomas, are you afflicted?" 

"Aye, Jesus." 

"Candidly, Thomas, I'm Kesey here." 

"How do you know you're not Jesus?"

"Well, la dee da!" 

"NO ONE'S MASKED HERE?" 

"To be frank, covid's endemic…" 

"FRANK? SAID YOU WERE KESEY." 

"Surely, you jest." 

"My name's not Shirley, it's Kesey."

"AIRPLANE!" 

"Dance off!" 

     Eat Eat 

          Summer Cannibals 

               Going straight to hell 

     Ate 8    

     Newlywed: I've always thought 

of myself as more like, 

you know, polyamorous. 

Is that so wrong?

     Mary: No, no, we try to support 

the men we love. 

3 …tempo rubato 

    Gotta give all      

you got to your 

good lovin' man!

     Eldritch Horror: We're out of wine. 

Where's your kid? 

     Mary: I don't have a kid. 

I have a son. 

     Eldritch Horror: Look. I have 

spent a hard day jerking off 

and now I don't have time 

to get wine. 

     Mary: Have a look around. 

He loves people. 

"When I was a child, Ma 

used to keep me 

from flying by tying one 

of my legs to a chair, 

so that Joseph could watch me 

while he was fixing the chair." 

G. Berner: Weird. Going on an airplane 

with no mask when it's nearly 

certain that Covid is going 

to be on that plane. 

That is fucking weird.

"Not that kind of flying…" 

chorus

"He's Mister White Keys!

"Keys! Keys! Keys!

"White Keys!"

Didymus

A stream 

pushes flotsam:

these bed clothes

pull so much

     dust: too gone

          to write

               or read,

                         words

                    slip

          away:

"Can't you meditate

on the way your

tongue undulates

while we're talking?"

     I must 

become invisible,

so as not to cause pain:

yet a hole is greater 

     than its parts.

Concupiscence 

The Messiah, Jesus son of Mary, 

Allah's messenger —they slew him 

not                nor crucified him, 

but it appeared so unto them.

My twin him —Didymus

          But first 

     We dance         

          Touch

     Taste

Listen

          Peer

Kiss me I'm Thomas

Kiss me I'm Thomas 

Have you any room

Tower for overwatch 

Enter here

Put your hand here

Reach in side

Where —holiest of holy holes 

     Acrid poblano sage

Sweet carob rue 

He was the sweet marjoram 

of my salad, or rather, 

the herb of grace

     Fluff stuck knuckle deep 

Astringent     —tongue dance

Minty     —flute bent note

Rough toes     —heel feeling less

Less sandalwood 

Less espresso 

Movement all

Choreography of violets

Streaming gowns

Knees bent     —note note

To what base uses we may return, 

Horatio! Why may not imagination 

trace the noble dust of Alexander,

till he find it stopping a bung-hole?

Elbows up

Chin dip

Turn 

I like my whiskey 

And I like to dance

Oaks will grow upside down

With their roots above town

They will bleed all around 

All around and round

Merci Iesus, fiȝ Mari

As þou ert god and king of heuene

Pricks' pricks —an agenbite of inwit

     Twelve rivers lit by fire

          Dark cloud suffused

By light aware aware aware

Goat's foot and monkey's paw

Wreathéd by sun prancing

Phoenix 

And bears 

So to sleep     —asleep to dream

Trembling demons —sprinkled

Call for shadows —vines

Litanies' litany —vines

But first 

     We dance         

          Touch

     Taste

Listen

          Peer

Kiss me I'm Thomas

Kiss me I'm Thomas 

Hill to die on

Spear for the king's men

Enter here

Put your hand here

Where  —holiest of wholes 

I like my whiskey 

And I like to dance

Habibi habibi —dip your cup

Yallah —fugue state

Bismalah —concerto's concerto 

Woe to me, the empty one, 

that comes empty 

to the place of the customs 

Saudade 

Here's where the buildings

are taller, the light's much smaller.

Here's where the road's not flat,

the curb's old hat, and cars gone

funny. I ain't made of money.

"You aren't made of money."

Can't sweeten me with honey.

"Can't sweeten you with honey."

Sorry when I met you, oh, oh,

"Sorry that we met."

All the promises not kept, Jesus,

Promises not kept.

Light of the World 

"Surely to God belongs what the 

heaven and the earth contain. 

He has knowledge of all 

your thoughts and actions."

Jesus knocks on a door 

with no handle, no offers, 

          no others. 

Jesus sees what we avoid: 

we know the danger surrounding 

          us: we will collapse.

What we perceive as harmful is 

blank: what's beneficial, blank. 

So mock not Jesus' love for all: 

did he not make clay birds fly? 

Flaws 

You have them

     like flowers always present

          spring summer and fall,

kept unsullied by cause

     or effect,

          strummed as a guitar

or crusted with all kinds

     of accumulations like spit

          from sink to sink.

You can't explain any regrets

     He has

          nor refuse His doubts

about who you are or will be,

     monied,

          tainted by disease,

tripped over in the dark,

     skilled in dissolution,

          given no oils as affection.