Untitled-2 1 9/5/12 6:39 PM

Untitled-2 1 9/5/12 6:39 PM

DESIGNED BY JUSTIN BUTO

Untitled-2 1 9/5/12 6:39 PM

NOSTALGIA BUBBLEScreeps in flannel shirts

gather scattered haikus

and these buried instant photos

old amethyst crystals

that would hang like heavy willows

all primary colors

in this muted milky moonlight

she’s a still-life flower

centered perfect circle

violet omens splashing

on the shores of the purple river

blowing nostalgia bubbles

RING OF SALTa marble sun-dial

speaking so softly

hidden mazes of neglected hedges

stone sparrows and Roman statues

the smiling hydra with Janus faces

a ring of salt

a force of nature

this fading pantheon

blue lunar phases

a crown of seaweed

or an astronaut helmet

ONEMILLIONMANTRAS

DEER KINGporcelain creatures in the dark earth

our two paths crossed in the clearing

white antlers are the altar

wander spirit of the Deer King

high exalted are your hoof prints

in days we walk on broken sunlight

for that moment I saw something

we may meet again somewhere

sometime

THEY’RE THEREthe air is thick with animal spirits

an infinite number of ghosts

colliding and crashing

or passing through each other unaware

every time you inhale, insects

when you breath out

you divide the blanket of souls

the silent hum of pollination’s past

prehistoric bugs that have been extinct

for hundreds of centuries

under skies that no longer exist

you can’t see them but they’re there

buzzing

RECEIVER/TRANSMITTERthe decaying nature of wet earth magic

rabbit’s feet and sharks-teeth

hard bop handshakes

so zodiactive

radio wraiths on the midnight jukebox

crazy paisley free-form fashions

beaded elephants on mossy mansions

raccoon bones and precious stones

tie dye ladies and stoned pharaohs

scribbled somethings

crumbling mumblings

chimpanzee prince striped like a tiger

WETEARTHMAGIC

IDIOTSAVANTEGARDE

BLACK BIOLOGYblack coffee is sweet enough

cathode ray tube derelicts

all these bent bicycle spokes

form armies of metal skeletons

hawaiian tropic copper-tones

earth tones and pastels

banging tambourines on pine trees

shaking up plant cells

sometimes I wonder

who wore my clothes before I did

ghosts in these fabrics

followed back from the thrift store

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