Shadows cast by rolling hills
captivate the eye.
Attention focused on
moving ahead after tying up loose ends,
like how a noose ends your life.

Sometimes all you need is a little juice
to make you feel loose in the caboose.

Fear not,
for the wolf is with us.
The Highway Patrol has no authority
in this atmosphere.

Like frogs chirping, blurping,
and hopping from lily pad to lily pad,
it’s all rather silly, really, but who cares?

I had a dream I met a woman in my underwear.
I’ve never met her before, I swear,
but I think I’ve seen her in my nightmares.

It’s scary: it plucks the hairs from the pit of my cherry,
so hit me with your best shot.
Uh oh, here it comes, blocked!

31 and dangerous.

No shoulder.

top off the tank and wait
my heart just sank into my stomach
i can’t digest it
you know what’s coming

raw materials in your hemispheres
don’t blink or you might miss everything
coming at you a mile a minute
from you don’t know where

stop and stare

take it all in with a grin
as if you didn’t care

to engage in a world
that’s so messed up yet so beautiful
it breaks my heart
yeah it breaks my heart

well i tried to play the game
but the game it played me first
but i’ll keep on heading down the road
til they put me in a hearse

take my last damn shot of whiskey
and take another plug of beer
wonder what the hell it is
that i am doing here

if hearts are meant for breaking
then i’ll keep mine in my chest
but i say love was made for making
so forget about all the rest

Brewed awakening in Spokane, Washington,
but I got it done in time, before the deadline.
Shook it off, nice and soft.
Heaven and hell are just states of mind.

It takes all kinds
in this chronicle of accidental meaning,
so drop your drawers and awaken to fifth base,
face to face with impending doom and gloom.

Wild mushrooms abound in secret enclaves,
so stave off hunger for months on end
and make friends with perfect strangers.

For it’s been years
since I’ve seen this kind of thing transpire.
Like a diamond ring of fire,
you can’t argue when there’s plenty
of moo shu pork to go around.

Touchdown!
And the extra point is good.

Like an incendiary rhyme,
this kind of lime is key
to our understanding of prime numbers.
For they form a pattern, you see,
like an underwater crystal structure
that is destined to rise up and overcome
the laws of fluid dynamics.

“Attack” is a common word
used in the titles of science fiction novels.
What, you’ve never read one?
The one in red is cute, but the one in green is cuter.
Red means stop, green means go.

So get of the pot or take a shit,
because nothing in this world makes sense
unless you’re taking care of business, everyday,
like expelling waste and flushing it into the ocean.

Bye bye potato! See you again some other day.

Tubers, eh? Yeah, I’ve seen ‘em around,
but they live underground, making plans for world domination.
Some are into working out at the gym,
and then there’s tiny Tim Tuber, no larger than a thimble.
He’s not quite as quick and nimble as his brother, Jack,
but he’ll stop on a tack whenever his track is played on the radio.

Plant a seed and watch it grow…
Soon it will develop into a beautiful blossom of nonsense,
patched together through semi-random circumstance.
On the off-chance you’re actually reading this,
Congratulations, and I hope you’ve gained
something from the experience.

Whenever freedom greets one face to face in the wild, one must have the utmost of moral fortitude in order to meet that freedom face first and proclaim, “I embrace you, freedom.  God rest ye merry gentlemen.”  For it comes not only to those in need of a good spanking, but also to the league of albatrosses circling the skies and scouring the seas. 

 Some folks ask me, “Cletus, why do you hold on to so many grievances against people whom you don’t even known anymore?  Does that make any sense?  Come on now, really?”

 Anyone with a vested interest in pomegranate metaphysics ought simply to check their baggage at the door, mind you, because this is a family establishment, and the only cooks in the kitchen are the ones doing the dirty work to feed your stupid, fat, fucking faces.

The brain is like pudding
in the bowl of your skull.

Heads will roll off the truck
at lettuce curve, beware.

Sleep calls too soon for restless souls.

Life’s too short, so why not
die while you’re young?

Naval grommets and things better left unsaid –
farts that don’t stink don’t carry any water.
Officer Otter patrols the Outer Banks,
searching for invertebrates to make snacks out of.

We are searching for something deeper –
some deeper kind of meaning –
deeper than what we see on the TV,
deeper than what we can purchase at the local strip mall.

Like a bale of turtles, those of us lurking in the back alley
chill out and wait for nothing in particular.
Who knows what will happen on any given day?

Underneath the world of appearances
lurks the awful truth.
Few will take advantage of the opportunities
truly presented unto them.

Surprise appearance,
automatic clearance,
a match all most peerless,
cosmic weirdness.

Fate has been sending some strange packages lately.
What is the reason for this?
Or maybe, which parts of us influence how the world comes back?

Or, then again, maybe it’s the season when stars collide,
and the automatic swirl turns somersaults:
head over heels,
hell on wheels,
little girl squeals…
no amount of describing how this feels.

But no need to overextend,
by the same token,
ourselves into the mesh –
leave some words unspoken,
shift the focus from the flesh.

Once we get our choice back,
we can unpack without spilling.
Although it’s thrilling to dive heartfirst
into an ocean of soul and splash,
at some point you’ve got to get out and dry off.

lingonberry pancakes
subsequential backaches

preliminary outcomes
inconsequential bon-bons

variegated miscellany
artificial mercenaries

philanthropic Jesuits
unrelenting tax audits

uncategorized qualia
nothing more to say for y’all