PATCH

                             Gobbling ugly mouth, lips like burst slugs,
                              he pointed to the patch on his shoulder and        

                                        said, "Sorry fellow. That's classified. Hee hee hee."

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—The man, he's the radio for the team, he lets off, through his normal heartbeat and other emissions, the team's location and basic health. Humans are also very emotionally intuitive, he will broadcast the emotions and stress of the team every time he empathizes with the dog or the boar. He wears a brown suit and a cap with an antenna on it, the antenna has nodes that attach to his skull and neck.

—The dog is the chief navigator, ready to explore, to scout, with his swift legs, or to use his keen eyes and nose to decipher the route forward. He is normally quite reserved but before they left, the compound, he volunteered, in a tearful private speech, to risk any danger that the mission be a success. He is white and russet and dark brown, he looks like an old potato going rotten under the sink.

—The boar or warthog is the muscle and the conservative, who will keep discipline among the varied members as well as keep them from exploring / adventuring needlessly. He is a hard boar, hard of soul, of hair, of noggin, of personality, just hard throughout. He is black and his fur is so coarse that it hurts to pet him. That's just the way he likes it, though.

—The snake is the genius and the scientist for the mission. Any specimens will be stored inside of its enormous digestive apparatus and analyzed later at the laboratories. More than the others, it is difficult to control because he escapes so quickly and easily, and can curl up into tight places that none of the other team members can fit within; this is also one of his greatest strengths, because there will be plenty of tight squeezes in the next few days. Nobody knows if it is a boy or a girl. It is pretty much green.

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The end of her wing, she beats they chatter the dry jaw
her hooked foot
through the open peak
one hooked nail
held on a notch

too big a prize and there I fucked it and lost is
another name for pleasure

the end of her wing
beats barely flying home
thumbs in the small notches
between the teeth






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The cat creeps through some bad grass.

Bad, brown grass grows out of the sand on an airforce base.

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What I have to tell you is un-complicated. Please look at my face while I explain. Do you wonder who is speaking? Look at my face. Behind my face, my wings are heaving, no? What I have to say is not complicated. You need to pay attention to this:

L I V I N G I N T H E C O N T E M P O R A R Y I S B O R I N G Y O U A R E A L L B O R I N G Y O U D O N T D O A N Y T H I N G

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“remember acronyms, initialisms
come into widespread english use
through the us army and the us army
empire.” 

I didn’t say acronyms, initialisms
are wrong, no or that origin is
their meaning, didn’t that either,
I am going to use shame to keep
you from something ugly, and what
I can’t do, no power to, is
gesture barely enough, you notice.

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What is distinct about the American, is that he flies so carefully. He expresses his rule-bound character, he does not think that the plane will fly if he sins against the airplane manual! But, it is important to know that he makes his planes in this way, with himself in mind. You or I take control of the plane, we will plummet! We will risk for an instant, we will forget only one button, we will plummet! This is another example of how ideology reproduces itself within you.

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First one, then another breeze, passed Rodeo Gal.
It thundered and when it thunders from below,
the air presses upward and Rodeo and Martell
the whale feel the press, up like a bloom, and densities shift.

Since seven years, she has ridden here, without
stopping once back on earth, since seven years,
she has rode and flown on the back of Martell, since
seven years, she and that whale Martell were
modified, to be made fit to fly in the air,
since seven years and still she can feel her brain
become unsettled at the disturbance in the air,
she watches as it will coast through explanatory 

emotions, since seven years, rode and flown, never 

stopping to the ground, still the explanations are are 

all inhabited, wrongly to some earth circumstance, 

and today, she is set on by two breezes and a blast 

of thunder from south texas, she has to blink and 

grind her hands into the reins, as she is being 

frustrated about her party, busting up by local 

police, she is going to have to afford an attorney, 

for some bullshit about underage drinking and 

some marijuana, she should have known better 

than to keep around, her hand grinds the rein, to 

ride it out, and Martell screams, having himself his 

own frustrations, he carelessly bucks, and Rodeo

ties on, to the rise of the bloom beneath.

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horns or eyes or horns are eyes
penetration always
and our banner
my friends your eyes
red and black and white
blood and nothing and nothing
nothing but blood and force

(by bernard)