Poet

12/11/2020

This was from my big win in 2017! Still love this. What a great day, Craig and Jen!

I am still working on writing a book. Everyday. I’ve been growing much and appreciate all of you. Stay tuned.

01/03/2020

Book still in progress. Prayers and good vibes accepted. 😅😀

09/03/2019

Book in Progress.

01/17/2019

Being Young,
For Once

in that year,
there was the scent of fish scales, lake sand, and currents of fresh air like every year before

she drove her poppy red hatchback
her music had drummers
tattooing strenuously

she passed old oak-tree-sprawling-off-the- beaten-path winding roads

and smelled the dirt triumph of summer

and as soon as a suggestion of a spring equinox whispered in her veins,

a sludge a youth’s death
became a sled and she pulled it sempiternally
over the earth.

Copyright 2019

10/21/2018

Flying Across the Synaptic Cleft

All I wanted to do was fly across the synaptic cleft;

left town in a banger; left town in anger

grizzled types tripped across my soul

in shallow sallow heartbeats of the eternally caged

Enraged,

who would periphrase the ineluctable Giants of Death
other than the Frost of Life that splashes open upon a pavement of glass?

my feet laced up
in two centuries

the center of my sight is collectible
throughout the
imperceptible
cosmetic batches of cross-hatches of fear

information convalesces
in a hot antechamber
waiting for a patron
of Rome in my mind’s eye
of the afternoon.

the deluge beats
me off the street
into the arms of
my meet mother.

the deep benthic terrestrial
icy celestial
jolts across a physical page
in words.

Christina Maki 2018

07/10/2018

U2 is Mine.

07/09/2018

U2 is Mine

there was a hard aurulent curved phallus, in the DIA.
I now have a pair of golden balls on my wall.

And this is how it happened

Remember when Andre stole Tom Petty;
a slight offense, at best,

but, times have changed for
you, mon ex,
are not the only one to blame
in a boxy green painted Quebec Cafe;

you’re not getting laid because
your pretty young wife is acting slave.

Andre was a lanky swinging insalubrious chap
and off with American girl,
the witch, he went

I never held credence to r**e;
that is my own

with no defile of escape

I’ve tried to be a member of the elite.
Intelligentsia for the time complete.

I could not find the trail
so, I clung to railway tracks
which lead to Oz and never back.

I found myself, not to be a fraud,
but, caught, in the cerebellum
and beyond.

Smart people miss the great throng
Of infidels pumping out and belting songs

because they are wrong to
disregard the ping pong nature
of disease, Varus. It’s one life.
That comes to the destroyed.

I took all of U2 because karma
is an ironic twist of fate
it may come late, but with
or without you; my soul untied.

You have no faith in God
You are lost from Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob and Ishmael.
Have you heard of him, f**k meat. You’re sorry and incomplete
because I left you without feet.

Love swings like a pendulum, you sick f**k, and if you think otherwise, it’s clumsy, for you
to imbibe in the past, of course,
you love me, still, like the wheel that revolves and solves dilemmas you thought were over thrown, gone to a forbidden zone,
your simper at my echoes through the universe, Narcissus.

By the way, I’m playing American Girl which is also available online.

Copyright 2018

07/02/2018

Of course. We are so self-righteous. We are all on the earth together. Don’t underestimate the intelligence of others based on pride!

06/30/2018

06/29/2018

04/27/2018

Fruit

The fruit is red apple or pomegranate.
Tangential to silken sheets of fire
that engulf you; electric.

Pulled by something un-human, table-scrapped demon of the darkling sky,
haunted, scary.

You end up laughing opprobriously through a dirty s*x shop in Montreal.

You end up by cheating on a faithful wife with a nymphomaniac bride-to-be

You don’t tell him you talked to your brother’s friend for an hour over wine

that one time.

you fantasize about your boss with the most probably large personal appendage

you wonder if all the p**n you watch is worth this coup d’etat of the mind
or self-abnegation or lack of salvation

its treacly, temporary, justified
candied and preserved
somewhere in the early failure of the city and the burning of farmland, forests;

all for the rhythmic guitar in your heartbeat of orchards.

Copyright 2018

04/14/2018

The Asylum

At the top,
grassplot plains over
bluffs

The asylum couldn’t quite
keep pace
with the Bauhaus movement below
against the law

the fountain a la Versailles
had been converted

into a flowered bed.
squirrels chase each other there.
And the accursed
fountain is nothing to them.

It was the Tarpian Rock

And yet,

the echoes mollified
and through cavernous cliffsides
they rose and fell
on the soft currents of
the saltless sea,

deliquesed
in linoleum polish; 1900,
scented 1980’s markers in raspberry
or blueberry.

the brown stone had seen
blood spattered across r**e
cases in Manila files and
yellow tape before

the glance askance;
penetrating ice blue eyes;
hoary-haired woman
employed for the beautiful fountain of bleeding hearts and irises.

where are the artists?

echoing deep and mad only,
the sky and the plummet.

Copyright 2018

11/22/2017

Stone White Lions

there, guarding,
were two stone white lions
Knock-offs

The chrome green porch came
under the grace of these Babylonian references and the matching Doric Columns à l’Amerique

For cats once dominated the planet
and they stood decidedly in front of the pillars of Hercules, Samson, or Delilah

Ready for a fall

But, as this home looked like other
barn erections at
MGM studios.

And what I mean by this
is that all the houses
looked alike and were taupe,
like moles or beings of the lea of
paradise or mud

a lone basketball net settled
noviate in the driveway

As to not admit that the money was earned from stamping out the creatures
of the earth.

Copyright 2017

11/17/2017

on Detroit

The framework
torn down;
burning brick and mortar
gone to rubble

grinding
circumscribed
pentagram

on television and after the
days of the Witch trials, Black Death and dead serial-killing cats

when blacks, Jews, atheists, communists and women were outlawed

running yellow caterpillars

the body was under an R

You think
the ignored girls of the locker-lined hallways
didn’t see your bright slaughtering,
laughing, pigs

rattling

With that toss of your head,
Bellerophon;

demi-tasse?

No, you are an atheist
in a white sheet.
proselytizing Jesus
or Constantine, the movie

You are not Achilles.

The statues redound in
shriveling, cracking painting
parties gone to the parasites.

Copyright 2017