The Tugboat Complex

Oh my God

They've got angels sweatin' like Hell, it's

workin' their little halos to the bone combing them deserts

my figure eight knotted

lifeline defined traffic

the way my schoolin' end-less-ly defined every day

one exquisite fitted crisis rivets an octagon of red

to the ceiling above my bed

it's not a conversation piece, like public spectacles

unleashed more of a clue

so when I wake up to the rains I'll be one step ahead of you

I slide like Kodakrome(?)

wrote a poem for every planet

tracked their mileage from the sun in an envelope

licked it, stamped it

got eight thank yous in the mail, but nine planets means there's one left

only the earth would thank me later with a breath taking sunset

(man, I'm just a bum)

zip that waterfall around your skeleton

tell it to boil

loyalties, the shovel in the soil

dig it, I split my lip kissing the winter

nursed the blister in the sun

strung a hammock between spring and where the willows turn to blood

might of worked

sip a little, litter it, love it

without big beetles trying to sell him sunflower seeds by the bucket

might of, tugboat for the boxcutter above those ashes

without hot air balloons floatin' their four passenger baskets

and I'm asking you

to let a captive lacerate a caption

splash out massive

apolster plastic glasses with famine patches

i-dentify all saints linked around the fountain's warmth

and for a second taste of pain when removing that crown of thorns

?????,???,???, born hostile, pacifist huddled in subtle masochist

stamp the blame on ??? ???

my fire escape overlooks ghost town market place

artists bought out passes

then fast themselves to the target's face

you're killin' me

if I had a hammer, I'd build a city on stilts

so my feet would stay dry when God's wine glass tilts

if I had a shovel, I'd dig a hole in the dirt

and I'll be hiding when his drunken stupor lands upon earth

and if your little wing is broken

I'll see the poacher in hell

I can't afford another ????? in a cell

my carousel mimics the interests of a thousand leaking spickets

and a colony of graziers raised to justify the grimace

(and yes I read the treaty)

I prescribe the remedy plus the premises

my pin cushion, my limbs pushin' the knitting needle

evils, idle, peddle past the greeting

where the sleepers feed the cycles

stop, watch the eagles board the little engine that could not

ghost in a shell

and it fell in my lap

passin', postin' the bail but the guard has misplaced the key ring (that's

wonderful)

I lead a flee to blaze exact songs directly into the village

power supply burning the bridge between the magnet and my eye

now how many cadavers satisfy a mad man?

and how many crooked samaritans turn plesantville to bad land?

I can count my own dusty nickels with you laughing

about you'll turn my poor ass ebony and navy with cane lashings

(well, you're right)

grip your pointed stick, incite your riot

I'll sell your worth in a bottle at profit, explain my bias

atomic box cult, downward spiral rapidly

cast to hell with hate mail, forged Christ's autograph

laughed itself, drastic catastrophe

biting my lip

skin and bones, stringent

bingin' on rancid baits

mummified well inside a muddy New York minute

was it

your remnants my smoke rings have cocooned prior to fading?

well, it wasn't conscious spite but it might have been that

I am not your friend anymore

my arrow head dissertation(?)

when narrow bed sleepers occupy the basement

and I am not your friend anymore

come the dawning of ???? in your pity blend that whispers in the wind

man, if it were only that simple

I'd add a guilt frame to ???

I'd board myself inside my room to trace the wilting contour

one petal falls to the rug, she loves me not

town crier lugging a boom box with spirit plugs

and a red radio flyer

tied to irony like twenty burning igloos with a sailors knot

fiddler crabs build sandcastles while high tide off azalea crops

in the icicle field I portray, cats get antsy

and ask 'why if every light is dark do I continue dancing?'

why if every light is dark do I continue dancing?

why if every light is dark do I continue dancing?

why if every light is dark do I continue dancing?

well if it ain't finally a question that's worth answering

I boogie for the raindrops

for the purity, the anger

for my childhood recollections

for the comic book in my heart

the mocked intentions

the clarity, passion, seclusion

those cool summer nights

for the mark emerging across the street selling me stog's at half price

for the mights, the maybes, the nauseating pitfall

my girl, my friends

for the fact my window opens towards a brick wall

for the three legged dog I saw dragged on a leash

for the homeless man who walks my block in rainstorms with plastic bags on

his feet

see I throw away the tenders over one shoulder

and walk across broken glass

through every wicked world to kiss tomorrow's morning

not for nothing

you'll drown in a pool of your crooked morals

whispering 'maybe Aesop Rock was on to something'

maybe, no promises