Beauty

Beauty

10.13.08

“I want to produce beauty,”
you told me.
But you can’t escape
the past easily.
Can’t untangle your scenery,
from roads and tragedy,
tracks and machinery.

 

bbbb

borderless   being
being          bored

duty free high-
stakes basted by
black-market censors eyes
whose scents sense we don’t belong
by the fluorescent thighs
not gone
before shadows cast the night
on ghostly salesgirls, who graft
checks from glossy wrecks
imaginary hex
halo over your heads
credit card sex
chain around yer necks
lines between the text
read an ex- life
stitch tales of culture
with pins and needles of an ex-wife
leather clad vultures
roots as deep as strawberry runners
run viral through cold shudders
thin soils and fallow udders

 

Sidewalks

Sidewalks
Eric Blasco 8.29.08

Sidewalks are tracks
to places with stacks
and stacks and racks and racks
all sewn off  kids’ backs
and backs rack the slacks
soon slackers stack
and trackers track stacks hacked out
by slimy hacks who lack
and truckers pack and ship
stacked ships with shipping slips
and firecrackers crack whips, cracked out
smack grips on sore backs
and hacks sack guys packing racks
so more trains can tax the tracks
and ships slip along the ocean’s back
so hip hips can patch rips
and kiss lips behind racks
It’s enough to make ya yack
and that’s the facts.

 

Rich and Beautiful

Some days I know well
You wanted to be rich
And beautiful
Wanted to sell out
But got nothing to sell
Wanted to buy in
But you ain’t got the smell

 

Ocean in a Bottle

Ocean in a Bottle
Eric Blasco

Creeping up my spine
starfish sized shutters wind
through a thick-skinned shirt
a thousand fibers worn tight
you dance and flirt
but I fight
to keep these winds
from catching me
just right
sending me twitching
back to another night,
when a red stream burst
into flames
leaves of grass
whispered my name
goose bumps
pushed away pain.

My hand reached
sea to shining sea,
You’re back again!
to wake me–
from a thousand deep
thoughts beneath
a brain’s coral reef
invisible fish
turn dark, light up,
and blow out your wish
it’s easier to think about life like this.

 

Split Skies

Split Skies

Eric Blasco

Beast with many heads
but no heart
hard to see where
it stops and starts
the fate of dirt road rocks
roll between worlds to block
the Stars, city scrapers make
their own galaxies above
can’t escape pain and love

Rustling constellations
run through
cornfield space-stations
from the grocery bag gods
Who try
to blow the wind
and split the sky
but won’t tell why
the world’s as small as your feet
and as big as your eyes.

 

Job Description

Job Description
Eric Blasco

We live with complex plots
tangled in brain syrups
with blood clots
of veiny knots:
1) strain sentences through teeth
2) harvest, then sleep for a week

Loose thoughts find
          stray vowels drooling
     from slippery lips.
Take in the tips and hips
          and each twitch.
The truth
          behind the scratch
     an itch.   
Which
          observers of words
     letters, measures
          bystanders to accidents
     seekers of pleasures
          strange bed fellas
     in bad weathers