torn labels

logging trucks and
little teeth –

                                    driving th cold out
                                    stretched province; getting away

                                    from
                                    th
                                    horizon.

never met anyone who done it. it grows,
buys a house, moves on.

                                   names become sentences
                                   to which I take a chainsaw. futures crack

th engine block / a hitchhiker’s thumb
song – 

three hurry-up’s and a child
hood. hear anyone

did it slowly paddling under
th moon on heart lake. 

# posted by hardyf : 14:38  0 comments

little teeth&

logging trucks

# posted by hardyf : 14:03  1 comments

what be of this ?
see th spirit of a drunk deer singing
in th driver’s eyes.

and crash through a glass
down th northern stage pole
covered in crude and coin –

head bone on fire
from licking whiskey   off a stripper’s stomach
and yelling back.

                ! cowboy up,    princess     [  ye  haw  understatements ]

driven by th cooz of bad country
and wet spots left on stools.

1:45 a.m.

frost in my beard beads
to sweat
while pumping  a bikini line
in th front seat of a pickup;

                                                             $2 a glass
                                                                               no shame
                                                             in that.

cocaine bust
in th parking lot
and doing it to
th flashing lights.

# posted by hardyf : 23:22  0 comments

                     i am a red
                                                  taxi

                                   you are beautiful direct
                     ions.

                        loud night rock on we devils
                        in red pint eyes
                                                ended up w/ drum sticks
                                                but no drummer.

she was so white on my black.22
martinis turn into gas kisses
on a no-home drive,
                                         she said she wouldn’t ‘forget this night’
                                         but I doubted that.

so many one night stands, and another is impossible – only an empty blue
lemon. 

we idle on,                                                        [ on  ‘e’ ]   
add fumes to th industrial dark –
if I ran out here
that would be alright.

paving pillows w/o a bed, parked in a moon
face town.

could watch you come and go tho
from behind th snow,
like a storm of dark roast hair
            and
                                         don’t get out of my sorry,
                                         my truck, I mean:
you can go
if you want.

but judging by th lists,
by th crystallized patterns of failure
and regret –
so long. 

                                       22 drinks fucked
                                       doors close over me like waves
                                       and I look behind        ( 

# posted by hardyf : 21:58  6 comments

boneless nights

# posted by hardyf : 14:05  0 comments

coffee applause morning
in late shades of
pink parliament he rubs
his eyes.
figured never there would be such encouragement
for a politician.

every morning
he wishes away dreams
of blue mountains and ex
pensive nevers.

red wine stained nights
$100/bottle
and rub pork fat
on belinda’s body.no drink bud
and dream

burp oh
that fantasy
again.

screams in his head
and then stephen shows up
– never fails.

a foot in each time
zone he
never gets any
sleep impatient and time equals
money he rips of his
covers and stares.

whatever they can, he wishes
for a dead moment to lie
in bed awake.

who would consume so much shit
to swim in debt ?  then
looks around
and notices culture.

clunk and spit debt
cards and soon no more
and more no
one would be left to manipulate.

                                                  out of control and this is
                                                  useless

excessive jerking creates life
and turn around to realize how
ugly it is.

get up anyways man
in some house of
common ,
some nice machina.

                          no corporate card
                          no big league

high school dreams
up in the clouds above
minimum wage. 

for th low natural price of
gas  head  and a place
to live.

                                                                    branded some economic
                                                                    criminal 

grade two teacher said class
you can be anything you want in canada
you could be prime minister.and
now you know what Jimmy says?  he says: 

fuck you  

ball and chain has been rolling
since day
one and one more
year away from being
dead at this rate.

                                                                         [ dive into th system
                                                                                  free thinker
                                                                          keep the dream alive ]

naturally slip a little
gas
to th hostage
and get unpaid.

# posted by hardyf : 14:45  2 comments

red river drips into an open bottle of wine.

I drank against
a tree in th sun.

while skin washed yellow
in crazy smiles

exploring similarities
in body

consumed no
guilt of a swollen memory

a boy replied w/o sound

a virgin emerged through a small hole in th woods

# posted by hardyf : 19:16  0 comments

carme

# posted by hardyf : 19:05  1 comments

handsomeness was their Third characteristic,
they couldn’t have done it w/o handsomeness.
chrome-blue eyes, teutonic faces and sharp smiles.
long-distance bodies in military green and
black gloved hands
                                               knock!
                                               knock!

oh father, sallow figure, eyes quiver and
dignity shutdown.
son stands in th doorway, ready to bleed.
he is also a soldier but
will not unite in th dark night
as snowflakes land gently on ghetto streets.
                                               zeit!
                                               zeit!

frantic golden smiles melt on black boots.
cold breaths of unnecessary commands
drift up into th black sky shimmers.

not a breath around th kitchen table
where women cradle radios.
moments of children react to upper fear.
th floorboards are full
so man stand
do not go gently…
shoemaker curse not,
it was in th church you first got hurt.
                                              schnell!
                                              schnell!

cheeks scrape th frozen ground.
th handsome men
postured swift and stern like a new fashion

                                             a wave of black
                                             skinny dislocated arms

# posted by hardyf : 18:57  0 comments

th drunk again
oh

waitress and a
loadd gun…

got hours and hours and
a tower
of golden onion rings

stumb
le
w/ me
                        dumb and okay
                        ask me
                        if i want another

( i’m not always this way
and my friend can’t prove it 

pointing at him
a thumb and you and you

are so good drinks
and I know deep down
my love throat
somewhere

that i won’t sleep tonight
and end up trying
my luck
in my
truck

                             meet me
                             some wheres

low
er

can not believe   ( what i do

                         no, no tip for you

# posted by hardyf : 22:40  0 comments

                 coal dreams smolder of
                 who stood
                 under th smoke

8 years old
a paper halo
a murder trial
smile                       loose tooth

espresso espresso crept me awake,
                 was you au
                  burn

some
straw summer
hair berry                           ( on her leg   where she doesn’t shave     too high

                 she had never even seen there
                 and i had already been there

tiny rays reflected
th future
on a gravel driveway

seasons & seasons passed   – th’end &

                electrical slit                  my bright rural riot
                of holiday shine

noisy drunk family
orange stars
too late jesus saw my
shadow stretch across bethlehem 

                (she is
hurt                           so low was th joy experience

and not to wind up in love
again and

open arms again thinks
why is always around

# posted by hardyf : 21:36  0 comments

february sun

threat

# posted by hardyf : 21:34  0 comments

                             feels like 1940
                             to enjoy so little
                             of  yr bare leg

trembling resonance of a streetlight
follows me long into th night

                           you were
                           right abt now

abt th spiritual
not th religious

                           [ street trains
                           and difficult veins  ]

there is so much time
to wonder abt someone’s face

                          unconscious rows of
                          hospital beds

                          you said I lost my touch / well that was my best

and after I worked in th chemical fields
all day
to make this body for you

everyday
still cries

                           but bulletproof and / and i wish you knew my indie

# posted by hardyf : 14:50  0 comments

lost coffee rain
and in kept mind        fingers touch
th heart ~

have one ,
find it mellow
and grey ocean

                        head on
                        th rocks

standing on th edge
of a god ridge / a buffalo jump

fuck th sunset  [ i tried ]

drank more than flowers
and poured words to th bears

no one ever wanted me        this far off

occurring like a species

    you whole mammal you
    so smug

but these are my trees and my wood
and that is yr sand and yr oil

perhaps i am looking for pity
perhaps I need devil repair   [ like a red truck / driving to hell ]

science         +        coffee
th only things we have in common

[ tim hortons will kill us in th end ]      b afraid / but dont b scared

# posted by hardyf : 14:02  1 comments

          but no one would ever ask
           and perhaps winter
             only revolves
               for th stars.

                  th berries of th mountain ash
                    outside my window are bright red
                       and angry at th birds ~
                         winter comes around.

shiv  er

i never unpacked     [ having lived here for years ]
these strange walls     thin as tabs
of th fear that reminds me  

th night johnny depp and i biked down to th theatre,
dropped acid around 10th avenue
or somewhere.
th world was a giant living room,
and everyone innit my extended family –
right there w/ johnny I was like th whole way
and life seemed easy enough.  

took th elevator   [ not th stars ]
but at th top i started tumbling
all around th theatre     in vulgar translucence -
all over th tops of heels. 

i stood in every face   [ inevidibley johnny left ]
and realized these ppl are not my family at all.

i stood up to go to th bathroom
flicked my computer on,  on th way.  

th first piss of th morning is done in darkness
to avoid meeting myself in bright light.

then i’d realize something had to change
and that isn't th positive note on which to start any day.

# posted by hardyf : 12:57  1 comments

           i have an urgency to know you –

know me in the biblical sense?

               yes –
               but you make it so uncomfortable
               to do

# posted by hardyf : 20:40  0 comments

cherry branches
are cut down for pages
in th'american textbook.

                    and footnotes say not what
          you are but who you do
          your self –

and colours fear not
history [ for th map does not change
in th'american textbook. 

no                                no
passports                   travel        just enlist in

                      homeland
insecurity 

hear th back door gently close –   
a mistress
has left you alone
in th'american textbook. 

th'american textbook has one million things to say, such as
hello
and call me

                an american tongue
                forces itself
                into your ear

( remember, you had a girlfriend  in th'american textbook )

oh button
i do not want to know its secrets

th key to th'american textbook
is results /
                     where results
                                 get fucked

page 1 ~ american idols
page 2 ~ situational prose

          Kerouac did not find the word
          beat
          in th'american textbook,
                                     he found it in an apartment.

# posted by hardyf : 20:13  0 comments