Part I: The Dirt Mall

1.

like you / bitter little son
of a surface under carbon and the blank meter of Dogtown
you drunk shit dragged right out and now
women falling into a swimming pool

skateboards are interesting
galaxies are interesting
snakes are interesting
owls are interesting
cats without names are interesting
                
                but Dogtown
                devours our hill
                it can bite / can be a father to himself
                everyone here is mother a fault
                in that pistol on our poor ocean
                on the other side of a balanced plague
                and they are just carbon, Charles
                as if you knew a kind different

now we may be devoid of a play
no way no ghost man
shot of a castle in a chess player
like some hollow in a board
but Charles made a deal of wood
and Helen hated a soft pillow
or mornings fucked in Egypt
so long after drinking up her brother or morphing into annoying trophies
her eyes were plates of hot fire
not to mean anything would be simple like making tools sing
Helen hated of all things blue

        there is a kind of place
        a yellow buggy two sets of dice our mothers hair in folds
        not to be a box around my ears
        framing this is our constitution our / our anger
        Maximus you frightened ships wheel
        drag me across a leisure suit
        let me be golden for this

sassafras is concrete / poor old man trying to surf more
this said harbor is choked in snow and
now she is annoyed by furs and fish and bullion
ahh lady please don't make a history of this
but Helen / Helen remembers being a girl locked in a rivers locks and rubber bucks
He walked some miles in old shoes
watched not our moon but a moon only it couldn't be real
did I miss her
how does someone begin to miss a scented tune

my brother who was born misshapen
now you know that about me / the real me
with materials for me and a disguise
I had kissed Helen and brutal tones insinuated themselves against me
she the librarian twisted knew better of me
she kept lisps and whisper in a cold blue
then little boxes / this is where I live in
was with when / when cocksucking goddamn
 
ONE.

to be magic:

the basic words / "to be able, to have power”
I am a machine in the magic lantern
what is the glass in Greek cinema 
how we became projected with similar rapidity

the bol weevil / with a mystery inside it / was with it's things in Europe
but us people have no motorcycles or summer plants for chewing
so a breeze a real cat inside a plaster one
this kind junk around his shop / making a mockery of lines
   
        I punish thee
        push trampolines with no spaces
        into light where clasps our plaid light
        thus the science and religion of magicians
        the hunter of souls binds thee into spools
        we held to society like form of shape
        putrid dripping knowledge of unwholesome revelation

these "magical types" are hidden fences
in our hometown
by a misshapen lake