conspiracies

it's a little freaky
not unlike having a
mind probe implanted
or realizing that the
illuminati really do exist

one of those things
that can’t be unlearned
(must eat tiger!)
opens up a torrent of
controversy and the
potential for scandal

should have been able
to dodge the issue
by considering the
perspectives of others
but the timing was
villainously unfortunate

New Chapbook

The new chapbook is in the final stages and will be ready to go out soon. Yea! 28 pages of poetry goodness.

Print run is limited to 50 numbered copies. It will be available for purchase starting on May 1st at the Sweet Lozey etsy store for five dollars plus 75 cents for shipping.

About a dozen copies of the second printing of "Idealists on the Funeral Train" are still available here if you haven't picked up a copy yet. More poetry goodness.

archives

a critical look at the
past reveals the
insidious details of
what went down
on the planet
when the aggressors
first made contact

horrendously evil
with an appetite
to move the body
and destroy the soul
they were on a mission to
obtain the origins of man
by any means necessary

we were ordered to
depart from society
to reform and retrench
thousands of miles from
the point of contact
an elite minority set apart
from the domination

fractals

i went back to
get the code but
it wasn’t there
and the experiment
had to be abandoned

chrome tread marks
showed evidence
of crime carried out
by dragons and
quick-tempered kings

not exactly sure how
to get it back again
i put lightning in their
hands and emphasized the
importance of retrieval

but my plea was tucked
away like contraband
in a closet to gather dust
with “old sparky” and a
box of old tin toys

temporal frequency

the temporal forces
destroyed the
last of the light

they hid in the
shadows like the
dying patriarchs of
a royal dynasty

until the pendulum
rocked back in
an arc of infinite
momentum
establishing
an environment
for corruption

the stars vanished
slowly until all we
had left were the
stories to remind us
they used to be there

distortion

they represent uncertainty
like ghosts
intrinsically difficult
to locate and you
wonder how many
really exist

the fuzziness of
what they had in mind
left no means of
gaining control and
the limitation required
them to remain
silent and still

lost in the tunnels and
growing smaller in space
unable to distinguish
who was still there


unable to give definition
to this problem
they allowed themselves to
be pulled into the darkness

zero sum

she has an eye
for fossils but she
is devoid of
reproducible culture
and i had to
stop her from
dissecting
the monkey

i rescued
leonard too
even though he
has regenerative
powers and
did not need to
be saved

she comes from a
series of mad
underground
robots and did not
understand the
implications of
her work

keep moving

i found myself stranded
in the future struggling to
get back to the critical point
in an incomplete timeline
searching for a way to close
the gap between two events
and return to the before
to change the looming after

i exhausted curiosity
and concluded at best that
i could settle in the
in-between and slowly
waste away leaving behind
decayed remains for the
scientists desperate to locate
the time travelers’ skeleton code

some hiking photos

better reason

lost in the middle
of randomness
i couldn’t find
any evidence
that the green hillside
we rolled down
as children
hadn’t been pulled
into a black hole

conjecture only led
to more questions
i brooded over
the enormous amount
of missing information
supposed to be
an expert but i
was beginning to think
i would never
find the answer

wary

i sat down next to
the railroad tracks
beneath the overpass
beds in the shadows
signs to our shame

believers traveled slowly
the younger generation
journey among the poor
poverty poor
not the regular kind

autumn rain reflected on
the concrete and dumpsters
i am very small
a late addition to the
story of brokenness

acquisition

so much like a dream
the luminous neon kind
that randomly changes
color in the darkness
and defies understanding

the scar on my side
makes it true

memories erased but
slowly fading in
like waves pulsing
against the skin
trying to establish
a steady mind

realizing that i was
part of the masses
used for the dirty work
and discarded with no
idea how i got home

they will come again
out of the shadows
slowly driving me mad

encounter

it stood there
staring ahead
seemingly lifeless
i moved toward it
scared to the
point of trembling

head turned slightly
and nodded to
acknowledge my
approach
it screamed until
my ears bled

passing through the
outlines of flickering
luminous light
as if i didn’t
exist anymore and
that is where i
stop remembering

hug us if you care

zombie bunny is coming
run for your life
poor little undead bunny
cute fluffy bunny
wants a hug
wants to eat your brain
double tap – for the win

zombie bunny wants friends
brain eating, leg biting
hideously creepy playmates
but not monkey clowns
they are too menacing
and canadian bunnies are not
good at violent rampage

are you ravenously fluffy
you might be a zombie bunny
carrot-crunching undead
cuddly attack mutant
join the zombie bunny army
if you dare

induction

i found girl
         sitting in the
      shadows
of poorly lit
               brilliance
hands on her knees
    gazing at the
         neat rows of
 wooden patriots

i asked if she
           supported
organized refusal
          when intelligence
    is offset by status
she told me she was
          pondering
    hunger and thirst

other people

but at the last moment
it was obvious
that mutiny
was just another way
of becoming famous

not like an astronaut
or a rock star
only hijacking a temporary
illusion of prestige
to be brought out and
puzzled over

decades later
as a major effort
of non-thinking
reviewing “how bad”
the situation really was

that sort of thing

             girl smiled again
      and told me to
look at the stars

         i considered the
obvious contradiction
                of the situation
    but overall
               the point : the problem
lacked clarity

i tried to use
                the past
          to illuminate
                              this movement
even though i knew
        my dreams were
                  nothing more than
         illusion

                     we stood on
the platform and i
                was exposed
              but hopeful
    that i would regenerate
           from the ashes
                        after she
                 walked away

vignettes

girl moved toward me
    slowly
        as if she understood
                  the division
   of the world

         i wanted to be
                          worthy
     but it was more
complicated than that

     i have a
             weakness for
nonsensical reasoning

     conquest of imagination
                  eerie
                               odd
     girl exemplifies both
                 the natural and given

 i was left
              gasping
     but willing to
                      endure deformity
           for the sake of
                      passion

     struggling to survive
                in vignettes of
mindless exploitation

currently reading...

The Ampersand Review, Vol. 4
The Green Lantern Chronicles, Vol. 1

our daily poverty

the irregularities
within us
confirm what is to
be gained
from the paradox

demands of
life common
prove more expansive
than the people
imagined

negotiations are
lost and meaning is
replaced with
prosperity

invisible lines
are out of place and
we wonder if
they ever existed

nothing we have today
can compare
to the trust
wrung out and lost
by heads of state

though occasionally
rumored to be hiding
in the slums

the catch

we longed for something
               beautiful
that would encourage
         enlightenment
                  confessing that for
               so long we
     trusted misrepresented minds

               the scars of
                      deprivation
increasing confusion
                     in the soul
       grew with
           each shadowy enterprise

we sat in
          celebratory silence
   swaying with thought
         waiting for an idea
to make us feel good

we want to be
              invited in
     to that place
where they keep the
             humble
         and love is
not neglected

                 admission is earned
only by those who
               devote time
      to the system
             of poverty
      a lifetime spent
                hoping the story is true

privilege

           the voices are there
omissions from what
        the rest are taught
                      dominated by
the broad sweep
                 of the past

     we urge them
                to yield
but they are
                   relentless
demanding that the
             false consciousness
    is marked by inequality

           some call it conspiracy
but the minute details
      manipulated by time and space
                  keep us from escaping
   awareness

                  there will be no need
for us
       when depth and understanding
motivate the people
            to restlessness
       and we will fall
                  victim
           to the awakening
of the masses

carpetbaggers

i started thinking about
      how new things
                 become old things
       and how old things
lack wonder and magic

      i asked him if private gain
is an acceptable substitute
                    for wonder
when the heart is really longing
                and the circumstances
       of time
         justifies some terrible fate

he knew the power of
                 planting desire
“some sincerely wanted . . . “
        belief in justice could
                simplify accomplishment

but the rights were
         acquired by the
      dregs of illegitimacy
invoking greed in the process
          and an ideology of violence
     became the norm

Spring

simple reason

later we
     looked up at the
   holes in the sky
and wondered if the
       offenders were brilliant
             or if we were just
    going nuts

        girl pointed at the
distance stretched out
     in front of us
                she wanted me to
      explain the exotic
             with simple reason
but i was nervous and
                    could only make
         small talk

at a loss for
             meaningful remarks
        i stared across the horizon
   hands in the pockets
            and made no mention
   of the inquiry
               or the demolition
                           of relics

walking the corners

             they were
enraged by the
                      accidental touch
        each one able to seize upon
                the belief
                       that desire is to
             be revered
but they chose not to
                        and protest remained
         cut off from encounter
      they courted tradition
                     and boasted largely
          about the
defects of time

what might become

slowly staring at
the vast stretches
daydreamers touch nothing
while questioning the
necessary evil of
ideological demands and
the rights of masters

they could not look upon
the banquet table
without blundering the
industrial apologetics
maintained as truth
for centuries

the center that we
hold in common
restricts our freedom
and will not go away

the dreamers talk nervously
about the possibility of
life beyond the
standard description
and devising strategies
to bring about
ubiquitous change

school

our collective candor

it was not unusual
to go days without
measuring the poverty

we hoped that value
would come
in the retreat

but it felt like
the problem was worse
than it used to be

what she was saying
felt true and i
wanted to believe

love and to love
could bring an end
to the hunting

trying not to bring about
some arrogant thing simply
for the sake of reason

supplementing the guidebook

girl asked if I was
fascinated by the controversy
i didn’t answer
just mumbled and calculated
the distance to the
top of a skeletal tree

fortunes in the
new settlement
are supplemented
by confusion

leaders wanting
us to draw closer
playing with the promise
and rejecting the
present as a fact

i let my eyes wander
like explorers
advancing the familiar
and considered moving
among the settlers
but found my self frozen

odd talent

attempting to protect
the triumph
of dominance
i fidgeted
and stammered about
the mistreatment of
violence and plague

something odd in the
heart of a woman
that makes us believe
quite possibly a calm voice
could be true love

girl got too close
bringing to frenzy
the kinds
of feelings that
“won’t stick”
but the stuff that attracts us
held firm

left exposed
and nearly destroyed
i wondered about this
odd sort of hierarchy
where a smile could have
greater impact than the
response of the crowd
and make it impossible
to bury the dead

bombing campaign

it wouldn’t be unlike
sacrificing ourselves
to others
glory instantly gone
but secure despite
massive bombings

factories set up to
give substance to hundreds
operating on the outskirts
of black-market dealings
a kind of prophecy
realized by those
wired for envy and lust

righteousness is exaggerated
in its explanation
but not for very long
grumbling comes quickly
as disillusionment grows
and we seek refuge
from the urban service

topography

we push along
like ordinary folk
filled with doubts
about the
relative merits of
authenticity

a little difficult
to believe
like stories from
old settlers

evidence
set aside and
taken apart
for the controversy

we grab on to
visions
supported by the
experts
and begin to salivate

hoping that what is
true
can be distinguished
among the strange

souveniers

we might have avoided pedantry
but
we failed to connect

and the people
who dream grew weary

undeclared separations recounted
echoes of books by
dead guys

what we wanted was prettier
than remembered
it is desirable to trade what
we call the soul so played

but for those who worry
there really
wasn’t any hope for integrating
new order
and baser classes at intervals

chasm

he looks out
smiles against the sky
such a viewpoint is subtly alien
but he did his best to
discourage beyond secure
control

i asked him how without
ever hinting that the
actions of interaction do
anything different

hands in pockets
i observe a look that
tells me he’s calculating
enemies
and the distance

it’s a good song
you’d have to hear it

two months and he
lifts his tired daydream
up to the zone of contact
and shrugs

well…it goes…