dedicated to all the funkers. fake the funk, and your nose will grow.

"a luscious bitch she is , true"
"but it's not nice to fool mother nature"

on the city streets 
we see the daily toil
blend into the mush
the crowd and try 
try to forget we die
every minute in this story

"in her neurotic attempt 
"to be queen of the universe"

what is this drive toward domination
everything in our culture is about control
who to fuck who to love where to live
it's all these strings that tug 
and even when we fight it 
the conditioning is so deep 
we fall into wells we didn't know existed
become puppets who can't see whose hand to bite
under spells cast from
 international monetary funds
 world banks 
 loans, aid
 a trap a trap! 
you must think and do like the Westerner 
john wayne lives in our skulls 
shooting down the reds and the blacks 
and the greens 

"oh, if and when the laws of man"
"is not just, equal and fair"
"then the laws of nature will come and do her thing"

even empires have upper limits
they all fall for similar reasons
groaning under their own weight 
as they take and take and take 

now the earth is screaming
telling us to stop burning 
yearning for us
to become her lover once again
and some measure of balance 

"balance is my thing"
"the sun the snow, wind and rain"
"must come"

take stock even out
STOP
BRAKE
we need a new attitude
totally granola and see 
each other as equal with the earth
and not above her 

"we're just a biological speculation"
"sittin' here, vibratin'"
"and we don't know what we're vibratin' about"
"and the animal instinct in me"
"makes me wanna defend me"
"it makes me want to live when it's time to die"

do you see the point?

well, it’s a new dark ages … how do people resist in the dark ages?
— Read on www.theguardian.com/us-news/2022/aug/30/mike-davis-california-writer-interview-activism

as i fly over this time
— Read on www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/52642/as-i-fly-over-this-time

You are missed you are love
raining down from stars above
above the trees a flyings by
beneath the placid purple sky 

And where the journey never ends
your heart begins to beat again
i never knew how sweet the skin
until the pear was prickly thin 

Seven stories to be told 
upon the tower growing old 
bitter laughing is the cure 
and feel a lot less insecure 

Whenever winter comes to play 
i follow lines of disarray 
to mingle in the unknown truth 
that nothing never has no proof 

A tweedle-dee a tweedle-dum
a mystery an untold sum 

my body is my buddy
my buddy is my body
my baby is my buddy
my buddy is my baby 
my body was a baby
my baby was a body
etc. 

you’re a very dangerous candidate 
in fact they voted you most likely 
to bite my head off we went thick as thieves or lovers 

what’s the difference these days?
it’s a wash how much of you in me
me in you and the threat of 

skincloseness
is always more lethal 
than it actually is
ola wave hello hola wave hello ola 

i waltzed in to disposition 
i never listened to what he said 
it took a while without clinician 
i never saw the light turn red

i danced away from supposition 
the table cluttered buttered bread
toast and deals and inquisition
had made the tide turn sickly red

so what the deal was intuition 
the bonds between the left unsaid
bugs and worms gift us fruition
of things we thought we once were dead

perhaps the need is complication
of settled stories told unfrayed
or better yet a small vacation 
shoulda gone or shoulda stayed?