LOOK BETTER IN THE APP

& i wonder

this thunder morning
when lightning strikes
our old stoner haunt

& the rain comes down

like its behind schedule

if i would

look better in the app

like
everything
else
claims
to

on the sci fi ballast
we clutch like pearls 

in our meat-crane hands

HEAD WEATHER VISA

the only time 
to
act 
as 
a tourist acts
is
when
the
inside rain clouds gather
and 
infiltrate your given light
with their rented gloom

notice it
lift your camera
but
know
this
is
not
where you live

know the dark weather
for its transience
and
if
your
zen
allows
it
then thank it
with gratitude
that
you
live
privileged to see
both
sides
of
this
strange coin
even
as
the lightning strikes
your hired hatchback

and there is an edge
to this coin
and if you straddle there

for work
for safety 
or in a hatless crisis

make
sure
you
call
it
Journey
or 
Motel

as it no place
to make camp
for
long

from scottedleman.com

I SHUT MY EYES

1. HAIKU

i shut my eyes closed

everythings there
and
i

become unbroken



2. TITLE

and i write

generation plastic and the touchscreen gene

and
leave it there
leave it for later
leave it for

someone else to finish
another day away

leave it for 
when the ending
is
made
clear
with the forced order of hindsight
we
ground-bound cutlery monkeys
cant
help
but
impose



3. QUESTIONS ABOUT THE TREE OF LIFE

i shut my eyes
and
before coma happens
theres a flash -

sheet lightning outlining a tree

now is that
my eye veins
lit
by
explosions mindside ?

or a glimpse
of
the tree of life ?

is that where it is ?

inside ?

in the between place
where
waking is not yet sleep ?

rooted
into
a
netherworlds
hinterland ?

and as i drift deeper

i sadly remember

i
saw
no
fruit

from istockphoto.comI SHUT MY EYES

WE'RE IMPOSSIBLE !

its US that are impossible 

  with

plastic machines for hair

  and

padded cement cocoons  

  with

  lightning locked into decorated walls

  built

  where

old trees 

    used to bend 

    over 

      cool green pools

its US that are impossible

  with

all our pockets

always loaded 

  with 

  touchable electric glass

its US that are impossible

  not

  the
  regenerating stars undying in the sea

  or

  the 

  quiet octopus professor

  doing
  his

  secret calculus with the coral

    but

    US

    and
    our

pre-fab pods that dart like tadpoles

  coughing ancient-bone incense

    over

      bystanding and amputated forest

      we've

    walled

  in

with

  great 
    hoardings of colouful disingenous lies

we ARE impossible

  when

  we

claim to own rain 

  on

  an

air-cooled silicone frame

    when

    really

    it

    falls

    when it likes

tickling our mad rubber clothes

  as

    we

      run

        to impossibly hide

        in

  linoleum dry

from threesixfivetwoforty.com

NIGHTSCAPE

the vibrating pixels behind eyelids at bedtime
    used 
    to 
    be 
the gentle show of a toy kaleidoscope
    or
stoned operatic soaps

    rendered
        in fuzz  


            now
            its

silent sheet lightning 

over periphery mountains

and                                              from sitemaker.umich.edu

a claustrophobic Monument Valley

    tightly framed  
    by
machined-square corners 
    spilling

        a
whirling silver dust of steel burrs

    that
    the
        sandman pockets

            and
            saves 

    for my alarm clock eyes

from en.wiki.org

 from theydrawandtravel.com