All poems were written by Ben Jon Miller.

for one thousand years

for one thousand years
he fucked the wall
a thousand fuzzed humpings
a thousand gray babes that never shall be

year one thousand one
a child comes screaming
licorice skin and pointed teeth
he asks his father
“how do you love when the fury is rotting?
how do you hold with the moon in your feet?”

“i do what i can with the ways that i know"

“you tooter! you tear! you liar! my fire!”

“sunny my son
your mother in grass
the wall never showed
the thing i could do

it said i was nothing

a glass and some sand and a piece of a pipe”

the baby of fire
the scream of his wrinkle

ran away sliding on the dad of his finger

thursday’s sabbath

at night when i sleep
i place a candle at my side
i set the milk upon the floor
so that the little ones will know they are welcome

at night when i sleep
the little ones paddle through my pupils
they comb my hair with their toes

at night when i sleep
they tell me the secrets of existence
i do not know their words
but they have been dropped into my brain
and sit in my substance

the little ones become words
the words walk as flesh
and the flesh becomes little

deep in a dream
on a black-silver rainbow
my dead uncle rides screaming
“yippy skippy”
his underwear flies from his butt
the hairs around his hole are a forest to the little ones when they kill the beasts
the innocent bunnies
whose death must be given to the hands at the core
fluids of sex trickling down through the dirt
eaten by the star
at the center of his planet

my uncle’s red ball, the bunnies, and they
the little nude people with eyes in their palms

an ocean yawning

an electric snake inside of your butt could tell you how to dismantle the world
but it would not tell you where to go

a soggy riddle inside your ear
the thing could tell you how to leap

but it would not tell you how to know

how to know the thing you aren’t
and how to know your sandy feet
an ocean yawning inside your sleep

boom boom boomo

boom boom boomo goes the cowwing of the grass
every day we go for walking
striding straight
from womb to tomb
from womb to tomb from womb to tomb

i had a friend
a burping of the universe
a word of the world
he came from its mouth
and returned through its ass
that which goes out is going in
all in all
all over again

is it a sin
to sin against sin?
is there a way
to narrow the way?

people inside people

people that used to be inside of people that used to be inside of people
hams inside of a pig inside of a door inside your fist
“I can smell the answers inside of the violence,” said a boy to a mom
“I can smell the hole inside of the sky,” said a tree to a dog
pummeled by the ribbons of pink
my house was a body
a body was a rock
licking lick lick

spit goes sliming on the side of a cloud
the yellow fantasies of a terrific toddler

baby sword

baby with a sword
elder with a heart
bible full of frogs and a leaf upon the start
if sins could rain
the sun would be crying
if trees could sweat
they’d tell stories of worms eating turkeys in the sky

if ponds could be eaten
they’d be chewy
and taste like elephants that run miles at dawn
moldy old man
dead infant walking
having a wank while parents are watching

life is a smile inside a toilet made of gold
the triumphant song of the bull
echoes one thousand years after its death

bye bye baby

my baby crawled out of my womb
it said
I’ll see you soon

My name is Gabriel and I am an addict

green-blue tears from unknowing angels
in folding chairs
in fluorescent rooms

My name is Gabriel
and I am an addict

My name is Michael
and I am an alcoholic

My name is Mary
and I am an addict

secrets drive down the roads of lines upon their hands
lines we read in books and do not understand
lines that shape the forms they say
lines that make nothing
into the way

“today my mommy tore my heart
she said I’m a cunt
and my cunt is a whore”

“today my daddy ate my eyes
he said I was shit
and that my shit was a dog
caught in a death"

heavens descending from the roof
illumination evoked by a sandwich
a simple salvation turned on
by silent sugar lips

precious pocket something

fold your hands and take a bow
wrap a rope around the pony
walk a ring around the sphere
wake the one who isn’t watching
tell the lie that isn’t here

when she was five she wore the dress
her mother made when she was ten
when he was twelve he wore the shoes
his grandpa made when he was far

cubes of sugar
green bubbles
seaweed’s greeting to the space between your toes
he always thought he knew the names
of things he thought he always knew

a name is the paper
around the mummy
a word is a box
around a cloud
slippery gassy rainy smoking
once you let the cork come out

hairs keep pushing and keep growing
the room within must keep the heat
keep the flame the fire of fervor
keep the brain the mind the heart
let it run and let it start
let it die and let it cry
let it spit and smile silky
let it lie and rest and grin
all the rest is laid to rest
all that’s here beyond the fear
something precious in your pocket
that is where the glory strikes

picnic body

i killed my body
for a step outside

upon the table
i ate my flesh

i killed the body
so i may live
i held my heart
to sip its red

the thing that was me
neatly splayed on a red and white checkered sheet
a picnic for picking
the parts i would keep
a dinner for doing
the deeds of my dreams
dinner for one the only one the we

jazz duck

if the ducks made jazz
we’d all be fine

no hand could hold a gun
if its ears heard the beats of the yellow-billed bird
no mouth could let go a fistful word
if its ears tasted the bopping head of the music of a duck in heat
no brain
could ignore the heart
if its ears danced with the lucid strums of a duck whose fingers dance on steel

hear that duck o brother o sister
hear that cluck o father o mother
the cluck of the duck
the sound of chosen luck
my penis is vibrating
my vagina is waving
windy exultance
on the winding road of the grace-whining duck

papa’s house

my heart is my papa’s house
four white chairs and saccharine fountain

a manic man doctor told a story
“kill your father to find your way”
stuck in his mouth
was a staff he couldn’t swallow
a father to be killed
could never be swallowed

the words he couldn’t say
the jaw he couldn’t break
father’s hands around his neck
father’s worm inside a trap

grammy elly says bye bye

yellow spiral made of chalk
that’s what child does today
purple mountain made of onions
that’s what lover makes today
she removed his arms
to make a bow
with which she shot the apple from atop the ogre’s head
the eyeless giant who spouts projections of possible futures

from his ivory throne in the bathroom of the diner
toilet bowl oracle
far-reaching eyes let time speak through the mouth
while batter stiffens into waffles
and cylinders vanish into holes
timmy’s golden birthday yoyo
from grammy elly by the shore
she gave his gift and was swallowed by a penguin
the penguin should not have been there
but he needed to be because he was lost
eaten living by aimless flightless bird
grammy elly says bye bye
while timmy’s toy spins up down up

waxy brain and pearly heart

mother said she’s found a jesus
one foot tall with feet in his eyes

his pupils reflect feet when there’s none before him
he solves elaborate mathematical equations
by observing the arrangement of crumbs beneath the fridge
he says that we will die on Tuesday
and be born again as antelope in a cemented prism
come Thursday
papa says he’s got incense in his ears and wax for brains
mama says he’s got pearls in his heart and rhymes in his teeth
his crying sounds like singing
and his singing sounds like dogs
dogs who have been wet for forty days
dogs in heat in circles of sweat
dogs that howl in aisles of milk
the sky is falling and its teat is pouring