HQs

She doesn’t love me anymore

That’s what the birds chirp everyday

She, my car never starts easy

No one listens or cares

But why should they?

It’s a car

Aside from that

Hungry for a quarter pounder

With cheese

I walked to the local golden arches

And ordered a quarter pounder

With cheese

As I sat there I noticed

I was in a hub

A hub of activity

There were no normal people in this McDonalds

There was just an odd presence

I arose from my seat and glimpsed behind the counter

I noticed a decked out system back there

And perhaps the CEO of Mc Donalds!

I was very surprised

In disbelief I sat back down and dunked a fry

Into ketchup as I felt a zit form

I scanned the room

What I noticed was that this

Was

A

God Damned

Bum Convention!

Then I realized it was deeper than that

It was a bum union

Or corporation

Or LLC

Or someshit…

With a CEO

And negotiators

And lobbyists

And many many workers

Once I realized this

I asked myself…

What is going on behind the counter?

With the workers

So I looked and realized

That this

Must be the most successful

Fast food restaurant that ever existed

It was driven by the drive thru

10 cars per second

Were served

They must have made

Millions from that window

But

The bums were

Happy

As they ran Sacramento’s Bum/Hobo scene from

These corporate offices

In collateral

Hobos ate there

And paid rent in shutting

The hell up

And hiding their liquor and booze

The dichotomy was shattering

But now I know one other

Layer of

Politics in

Sacramento

French75

first the bubbles, then the kick to the gut

visceral and soothing

in the make-you-piss-blood kinda way

irresponsible, yes.

but that’s what the rest of life is for

so i see things, like an immigrant couple: clinging to tradition and the past

a warm body creates a sense of peace

but i know that no matter what

the shells can fall

the big guns can strip you naked and destroy your life

death and snakes wait around every corner

no matter where you are.

if the scent of mai tais fill the air, or cow shit, stale beer, morning dew…

or expensive perfume

women and stray dogs

the click-clacking down the road could mean the end

and it does every day

so in solitude, the bombardment comes sweet with the bubbles

then a kick to the gut

and it all makes sense

it really does

Realities of bam bam

Fighter plains fly like birds

Feathers of carbon fiber

Glued with

Horse tail precision amounts to

Balance

Lost on drunken nights

Like walks alone

Hope to not be held up again

By two Mexicans with

A porn star sized 45

Old west looking rusty killer

Thanks for the gin

Pointed in my teeth

Give cash, look down

OR DIE

Asked what I’d support if i had to

Fuckin’ commie or capitalist hero?

The FBI got wind

Now I find my neck in a guillotine

Waiting for the

shwwwwwoooop  shwap!

I heard you can see for 11 seconds

I hope someone played soccer with my head

I would delight in the lettuce lawn

Kicked to make the last point

Thistle bush pricks and scrapes

Dust rises from the blazing tacks

Of the jeep and minivan

That are escaping the drone

Find it

Find it

I don’t care if there is a family in it

My orders are

C L E A R

kill it

KILL IT

Who wants a

McFlurry?

Honey Metal

Abstract friends
Painted like the night lurking to morning
gray turns bright silver on the horizon
half moon                 goes down
dew forms
like water colors dipped on blades of grass
soon to be cut
tossed into bags by migrant worker(s)
dishwashers clean spoons
that fell out of the ice cream trucks garbage
plastic spoon microwaved and dipped in
honey warm on
rye that was slightly
burnt
aluminum roofs in developing countries
listen to the rain hit like pellets
drip      drip       drop
go – to -       sleep