Exquisite Corpse #1

My lover's past is like hobgoblin jazz
on a six-string belly guitar.
The music resounds through the hills on the wind. The green
ground is wet with the afternoon drizzle.
I went to New York in my twenties, one summer
nobody was there. May Hamptom.
Throwing rocks at pigeons in the park is good times.
A high def magical box that played your eyes, boxing our minds...
When life gives you spartans, give them a tank, women
love big guns.
Big guns grown over by
sharper image mountain warriors,
no soft-slow-battle,
these no ordinary foot soldiers,
stretch fiddle-fern tendrils like tiptoes,
unfuel her caraway seed mouth-spit,
deep river underwater huddle,
dirty mouth,
lungs broken in three pieces and a half,
nestled in between three red rocks,
and a new sprout.
And it was now time for these plants to grow over this man made distruction.
Erase all traces of war. They knew it was no easy task. They spread their seeds for miles,
rebuilding what was once lost.
Years and years us growing,
miles and miles of roots.
The earth was finally restored back to its natural order.
Almost, anyway, for there remained, far beyon the known ocean,
a valley where life refused to grow...
No one, nowhere, and no how. Silence in the night and day,
the song of nothing no one will play.

Exquisite Corpse #2

Birthdays are only happy with a water feature.
Funerals are only happy with a smile of birthdays,
and birthdays are only happy with a smile of death.
So make sure your birthday is not spent in the desert.
Lunch concluded with dishes which consisted mostly of wiping,
instant zoo animal placenta from white porcelain bowls.
The men grew sick with agonizing pain.
Cramps. And damp eyes, and the crippling notion
of creating life.
Driving two by two, splitting cries, cellular potion,
an amoeba's strife
is only as stressful as a cottle swamp--
one cell in a pool.
What kind of magic draws those cells together to make form...
magic, no wizardry is afoot.
A foots, a feet--a boots, a beet
The beet: a root of flesh and vein that feeds the blood and soothes the brain
All that dirt though, the head reals, looks into stars,
a bright spot away
Away to the river, flee the light to our secret river respite
So she went all the way downhill and dipped her ladel
in the mire, drank and drank and drank.

Exquisite Corpse #3

When the monkies arrived at the apiary, they thought they'd come home
to green eggs and ham.
Little did they know it wasn't ham,
but the road kill from the side of the highway--
at least it was being put to good use!
It tasted good.
It tasted like thanksgiving dinner all in one.
Who knew otter pops could make a dish, so delish.
And BOY oh Boy, did it go fast!
Like a panther leaping outta the grass, or a card shark with all my cash,
out into the muggy night.
Mosquito buzz on high,
faltered red paint smears on soft worn-rubbed-out pant legs
breathing sneaky silence through bent eye lashes.
Sweet saliva flow across one's toungue
The happy giggles of Birthday wishes fill the air
Smoke essence wafts through the nostrils
Beautiful smiles of friends in the eyes
Sticky fingers pass this on
Plumpened tummies gurgle: happy springs, clear and cool.