"Every night a strange geometry..."

From Kabul to Anaheim, Occupation Finds a "Homeland"

Kabul

Anaheim

Militarized response for any resistance to state brutality anywhere.

Trakl

Tassels wave
fragile wings.

The book falls
from lots cast,

an anxious God's
measure.

Chance, again,
as it will in time,
breaks the stylus...
cradling worlds
on papyrus.

The fields lie fallow
as this world
turns against
breath.

"Who'll dress their wounds?"

Progress!

"Licensed prostitution, direct material theft, house-breaking, murder, brigandage for the lower classes; while skillful spoliation, indirect, refined theft, clever exploitation of human cattle, carefully planned and brilliant executed betrayals, transcendent pieces of sharp practice in short, all the truly elegant vices and lucrative crimes which the law is far too polite to interrupt remain the monopoly of the upper classes."
                                                                     ----La Phalange, December 1, 1838.

Progress: LAPD Enhances Community Event with Rubber Bullets, Tasers, Tear Gas, Brutality

"Well, this shows that if this be law, it is not the law of righteousness; it is a murderer, it is the law of covetousness and self-love. And this law that frights people and forces people to obey it by prisons, whips and gallows is the very kingdom of the devil, and darkness, which the creation growns under at this day."
------ Gerrard Winstanley, "A New-Yeers Gift for the Parliament and Armie", (1650).

(Photo of LAPD aggressively blocking "Chalk Walkers" and others peacefully attending public Art Walk)

Rimbaud's Marriage

            I

A beggars eyes
can't sway the Sun.
Infinity's shadow
to fierce bonfires succumbs.

Chaos crests such
blinding brightness.

          II

Hooves beat
ashen cloudtops.

Four horses choke
on the dust 

of nightmares.

Apostasy's bit

slips away. 
 

And, dear love,
it moves me so
my cock
buries its head.

Apostasy

The blind was drawn.

Leaving by train,
a letter in my lap, windows
unmarred by the city's erosion
to inconstant gray.

She sat across from me,
Foi o Mar in her eyes.

Black cloth billowed
in those dark sea eyes
like our breath...
       in time with the engine.

Tacitly, we shared a burden.

Head against the pane,
I succumbed in dream
to the double-drone.

What Would Ms. Leipholz Think?(My First Schoolhouse Becomes a Strip Joint)