Seven slugs ******* beer
from a bowl in their garden of Eden
rocking out to Miley Cyrus.
XM top 20 on 20
radio and gardening and slugs
swim like Phelps
but opposite
like life rafts
shriveling drunks
contorted and slimy
old school nickelodeon
green slime on your head
washing off in water
crossing bridges
entering temples

where the **** is the shrine of the silver monkey?

She screamed obscenities at the stars
and cursed them out
one by one.

But how do you offend a star?
You can't tell a star,
"Go **** yourself!"
Well, you can, but what good is that?
And honestly, who wants to see ****** stars
pleasure themselves?

You can tell a star,
"How about your core gains so much mass
that it can't stand your own weight,
so it implodes,
and then neutrons bounce off your inner core...
and you explode!"

But really,
how poetic is that?

Anyways she kept yelling and yelling,
expecting some response,
and I could only assume
she would not shut up.

Have you seen him
in Hollow Man?

Nope.

I was attacked by jellyfish.
Clear umbrellas
circus tents with mardi gras beads
hung down the side
like indian fringe
tentacles stretching stretching stretching stretching
and stopping.

And stinging.

Those mother smuckers
shooting venom
like Belushi shot ******
through my skin
Chinese acupuncture
sticky jelly arms sticking
plucked off suction cups
like fake tattoos rubbed off
with bare fingers
skin burned
a sixteen alarm salt fire
contained by ocean
no flame but pain
and water stings
the tickle from tentacle to skin
not even a fish
but a gillfree zooplankton
free from captivity
but caged to my skin
like a remora
those shark suckers
but I'm not a host
just prey in the way
for a swim in the gulf
or a walk on the shore
or a pet at the zoo
my chest my feet my hands
stung like ghost bees
not seen but felt
glossed with mud
this time tide sand
wet like tsunamis
mixed with vinegar
rubbed like bay leaves
under the nose
to relieve congestion
but on the wound
to relieve infection
my skin reddens
like rose bloom
from gypsum sands
and I want to sleep
sound as Beethoven
but wake again
like an immortal sea jellie
roaming every ocean
like De Soto or Marco Polo.

Marco

Polo

Marco

Polo

Fish out of water.

Sunday:
Ant Pills
Bear Traps
Cobra Feet

Monday:
Dolphin Lungs
Eel Soup
Frog Limbs

Tuesday:
Gecko Suits
Horse Pie
Inchworm ***

Wednesday:
Jaguar Barbed
Koala Beer
Lynx Lynch

Thursday:
Monkey Chips
Narwhal Fashions
Otter Drugs

Friday:
Porcupine Rehab
Quail Map
Roadrunner Piano

Saturday:
Slug Party
Turkey Slop
Urchin See

Sunday:
Vulture Guns
Walrus Tongues
X No

Monday:
Yellowjacket Fever
Zebra Clowns

Not even field mice can hide
from the smell of autumn grapes
that bind with air molecules
for the sweetest fragrance
that could never be replicated
by the best candle.

It's no wonder that trout
throw themselves above the stream
that runs through the vineyard
to get a taste of the concord
September aroma.

That's why the windows stay open
until the first frost bites the fields
and takes with it the purple air.

I killed Abraham Lincoln
and John F Kennedy.
I am a confederate soldier,
a United States marine,
a supremacist fugitive.
I killed Martin Luther King
and Robert F Kennedy.
I am a Palestinian immigrant.

Last Monday I went to the market
to buy fresh fruit,
ripe mangoes and bananas
you could smell from tables away.
Grapes red purple green
and I squished one between
my thumb and forefinger,
grape flesh the color of farm villas.
Melons pears peaches plums.
I am a fruit connoisseur.
I am a customer.
I am Mark David Chapman.
I killed John Lennon.

I killed your mother's brother
and a homeless woman.
I am Edgar Allen Poe's inspiration
for the Tell-Tale Heart.
I killed the old man
the young man -
any man.
I am anyone
anywhere
and I am armed.