holiday

tree against telephone pole
veins. the functioning systems
everywhere- streets as bones,
banks and courthouse organs--
we are the blood. i am made of you, too
but got used to the parasite. now we
all design for the message going back
and forth-and back going message
we've set it off spinning, we have less
definitions for real dialogue, talk like
twinkies for our health. most of the energy
we have manifesting a decision of lack.
which we are toppled within, which we become
thinner by, but still fat for the dinner
of the only powers we don't denounce-
and spoiling them, make them bad.
we are not sure if we are hungry,
we are not full until said so
and the city digests us to sleep

jesus's gold

wait a minute, Actress,
that's jesus's gold. whole world, pair of
hands, in one house a scrapbook filled with
copyrighted photos of barbie.
the barely naked ego
to fondle a hugging, five times
as much state of mind, eyes move toward
the invitation, the VIP trail toward
everybody's praying for change. remember
the time you were sober? when was that? it's
rounded up my skin across skin, dipped
in a burning fascinating height of why