I will follow them
feathered mountain shadow
I will meet you at the river
we split stones
sleep in shade
We hear the acorns cooking
alive in complex baskets of soup
tourmaline clouds neatly packed into our holsters
that’s right you and me we warn Trout
Souls
into the dark woods
conscious willing awareness
not of zendo
more of real sit’s
much more of interactive animal toil
into the soil stone
the barking beat soul
beyond into Moonstone monuments
slippery wings
This right Here
THE JACK NICKLAUS ATOM BOMB
of semen any mammal pooled
the research standard unraveled
this band does not disappoint
all through the night
all the young bacon rolls
all the dead stars
This right Now
all I need are tattoos and G.I.T.
look it up it’s Friday Night
to you and me
cracking up
slowly formed
We are Mesozoic
antlers cocked
sons of the clouds
fathers of the Sun
The the old man said to them, “The mountain.”
but is it time to draw shades and fire the lotus?
Yes
buried in Fowler shadows
golf balls rolling
under Oregon booms
calmly her dark falling brings us
to the edge of destruction and when
we recover here is
the thoughtless bliss
unnecessary
all this
THE JACK NICKLAUS ATOM BOMB
of semen any mammal pooled
the research standard unraveled
this band does not disappoint
all through the night
all of our pain
all of the cumulonimbus
all of the rain
Into the depths
We forge halfway to dream