OF THE MOURNING MY FACES CAME...OFF

standing headless in a crowd of heedless energy

erupting through my skin- 

a seedless splay

To be a fallen faceless, masking what is placeless

every ghost then would be nameless 

again oar again

The perfect soul stood standing

quite invisible not landing

about ten thousand yeards aweigh!

D'Agate

feeding the plants

FEEDING THE PLANTS

I was walking around

looking for eight dollar bills

while thin, black females came through doors

going for 6 billion a pop

I used to drink, ugly

Now, I just feed plants

to all of the abandoned Buddhas

and forlorn Christs

whose messenger scribe notes

on waves

crashing over the bows

of my Ships!