stone temple pilot returns to the sky

the music flows in through a thin lead
and floods out as sweat on this chipboard plank
up on this rooftop. when the music jams, a twist of the nozzle
a pinch of the wires, and it flows freely again
and the sweat soaks the board
the sun is roaring in the early morning
the sun is pouring and the music is flowing full force
into the headphones that wrap my skull
as I watch mini-clouds fall up like jellybean astronauts then
dissipate like lives

so – all the drama queens in their shoeboxes
all the skeletons handing out catalogues for garbage
the insane parrots at Alcoholics Anonymous
and the lost bandwagon martyrs and the Christmas gift calendars
in themes of bikini girls, English gardens and Renoir
for all those dumbfucks and all the other dumbfucks
you know where to find me, that’ll be me
falling through that sky and out the top of a wave
of green creaming soda, bouncing through it as it
surges to the shore like a dragon’s tail before me



She saw me trying to get into that church
sat up there on its steps like something worth keeping but
put out of the way
Spanish style, palm trees, jackhammers and sun
from inside, the one stained glass window must’ve been lit up
like green fire and I wanted a look, wanted a photo but
I couldn’t get in to the cool marbly dark inside
I rattled that door and stood back, on the side of the sun
and the fire of angels remained unseen
but I looked up to her and the sun struck through me instead
facing a goddess
glass totem built with the scrambling love of man

Maryam stood on the opposite corner in blue jeans
by the police station as the cops came and went
she looked at me there looking up at her
no cop or detective saw her, she would
be there for someone
calm as the seas
she watched me trying to get in
me with my little canvas bag of words
my talismans, my gait of the species in the sun
scrambling for a goddess
in the roving of this form

the cop computers boiled and the jackhammers jacked
and I looked back to her
a dust mote floating by a star
in the space between two mirrors, one green glass
the other in blue jeans
and I saw the horizon of love
beyond all we know

then gone as if never there
as is always their way
and the last thing I thought the day would hold would
be me sitting, suddenly exhausted, on the stairs of some church
facing the sun
with two tears trapped and falling
behind my sunglasses


a female dwarf named Lanie takes a selfie
in front of a motel bed.
In the wash of the flash

a sea snail the size of a softball rears into the moonlight
with the courage of a volcano

whales sing to the bones of their own
frozen in the sandstone of mountains

a man worth more than all this sighs
and deals the cards at another sausage fest card game

in the spiced shadows of Mandarin Imports
a paunchy plastic godlette blinks, and then blinks again

the sky mother flies as an ibis in the night
along the ribbon light of highway