No Worlds


The world has no worlds
to express its expensive scent
instead a cheap perfume language
of obvious royalty
tommy torso dorsey
and his intimate distance
orchestra will entertain you
with the clatter of jewelry
how fake sounding
crash of fakes
believe it!
ease of the oil can
not do the oil painting
elites survive 'cause
jocks and smarts
lie to each other
set in type
baked to rusty burned crust
stiff as an orange skateboard
with the wheels removed
we screech spark slowly
over shadowed terrain
    can you call a sidewalk "terrain"?
    who makes these rules?
    the guy who wrote the dictionary?
    some underpaid freelance factchecker?
    (my favorite people: the factcheckers
    in a world endlessly proven to be without facts)
    "yes, you can call sidewalk 'terrain'"
the sun should not be a symbol for guilt
we are happy for the shadow
covers the brightness of our self-love
we can hide behind the disguise of our disguise
two groucho marks' mustaches and glasses
and of course two false noses
sitting precariously on each other
uh, precariously
can I take you at your world?
for my own sanity i probably should
but sitting in my thrift shop straitjacket
it seems pretty obvious i don't think that way
i don't believe the map
my jigsaw puzzle is one big piece
boundaries to me
are only ticklish
soft feathery tricks
to sleep with
walk thru
the other side
is my side
in a world without worlds