There's a pigeon in the prayer house

There's a pigeon in the prayer house
and we're not wearing shoes.
I'm biting my tongue
on a floor of blue carpet,
under a dome painted blue.
The doors to the decks are open
and the sky is turning grey.
It's no wonder then:
a pigeon in the prayer house.

Sacrosanct

Blind priests see Christ more in floorboards and baseboard-heaters
than anyone who can enjoy particles in front of them
I confess, flesh tones and bank loans will suffice
though 78's and 45's wait as if at gunpoint attention for the order
alphapersonalogic is the one I feel right now
it dwells in the subsonic-chronicaudiophiliaphonic ranges;
an ethnic relic
because 'Hebrew' means 'to wander'

Evening Night and Morning

When I think about a world
full of cities like New York and Chicago,
like London and Paris,
Beijing and Tokyo,
I get scared to death.
If, rather than a few hundred miles apart,
these dense human heaps
piled up just over every horizon.

I hear the stomping and shouting,
the college dormitory halls and balconies.
I wonder and listen. Who needs music
when you've got a front row seat
to the Stumblebutt Orchestra,
really the best and brightest.

I heard the chirping start this morning
right outside my window
with the squeal and croak of
a solitary early bird.
I tried to call when I heard
the birds start to chirp this morning.

my daughter will be named Sylvio : and ribbons will rain down upon Her

Always to loiter menacingly
On the precipice of some
Small gesture that will
“set it to happening”
I am rabid with what remains

Indistinct in sunlight
The night is my highlight
Elixir of yeast
I bud cigarette garnishes
Going well with everything

Swedish Crime writer
This is my position
And I am functional relationships
VS. romantic idealisms
The wannabe skeleton key

in closeness and distance

Have you got the time?
guess it depends on who you are
and what you've done for me today
forget yesterday in rhyme-
-not for all the ketchup fights at mattress house
'but I love you still' he pouts
like a beer loves a glass
without motion time still can pass
but alas, the bubbles all go flat without a sip,
only a gentle quip:
'I have needs you know'
now seems like forever,
but the change is slow
old man river's got a heavy flow
so you walk out the door
for nothing but gentle scorn and floorboards
that tap.. tap.. tap.. till you hear no more
finally you know the score
(in the distance you hear four to the floor)
zero to zero
and whore to whore