dreambook, page 10-11

dreambook, pages 6-9

a four lane highway [draft]

molten machine buzz

docked atop the horizontal blow

returns to strike cheek and brow 

with entropy's graceless glow

their whole lives 

a single permitted use
across a four lane highway

children teetering

on a bed of weeds
i'm longing again

learn'd pall espied 

the hungry concrete gray

drape of water and stone

twisted into graceful tones

shovels deep

til crash of stone

and flame sparks breath

earth to silken spinning rise

brown leather strikes bow

to work to home to bar

where neon sings, to car

[the molten machine

their sigh
across a four lane highway ]

trench warfare, v1

here we are again,
alone with the screaming
whiskey baby — a thousand miles
gone, flies speak a single tongue
every tongue — a pretty girl
walks across the amber bar
she will not hear it, she must
not hear it; please
dug into the earth's narrow vein
she sounds like rain, a spark
filling lungs, one last dark sip
back against the dark bar.