The Deed-Word-Free Blossom-Gathering


Oh yes of endless rest,
O' song a ton —
By me this songcraft best,
Not shitty fun;
There every soul glad lest
Some too fast run
Since in Mojave chest
Woeful thing none;
Yes, the wish in my breast
For bliss, not gun.
(To everyone this word,
Lest dumb in herd,
Or too wrathful the mind,
Or th' eye too blind.)


My love for thee truly great,
Oh wide land of this sad fate —
But each animal so glad
Hither thither never sad,
Even if one hungry bad,
Another with grass not mad.
(Oh my heart full of a hate
Toward fouler folk o’ late!)
Always myself to thee mate
Full o’ song of utter weight.
Indeed, on thee such a beauty
O’ the crop so sweet as fruity.
Therefore o’ folk first the duty
For the green love, not the snooty,
Since otherwise soon worse day
In the woodland, or the bay.
Oh handsome Nature o’ May,
Or warmer, wetter thing yea,
From me Cuban youthful cutie
To thee rhyme old as Djibouti.

Espinelan Mini-Epic to Basic Income

World of endless hunger more,
Where of none steady the future,
But rather the broken suture
Of a worthless, bitter lore...

Half of Americans like universal basic income-and they want AI companies to pay for it

A recent Gallup poll found that 48 percent of Americans see guaranteed income as a solution for helping workers displaced by automation. Partisan divide: Support for the issue varies greatly between political parties -while 65 percent of Democrats support it, only 28 percent of Republicans are on board (not exactly a shocker).
But great now the social roar 
Of the basic income mind,
Wherein a penny no find,
But a right for everyone
Under this the mighty sun
Of all before or behind.
Indeed worker on her grind,
Ever ever without stop.
Why this need for ever hop
Gig to gig of life precarious—
Automatable (nefarious)
Thralldom, whether maid or cop?

(So many a sweeter crop,
In the field of far-land nice!)
When then here the needful rice
A right for everyone well,
Not a product of greed-hell,
But of warmth kind, not cold ice?
This to Master then advice:
Better for the little Man
A needful penny—not ban—
For a roof or for a life
Of a steady bliss—not knife—
Or for at least of bean can.
Therein then the better plan,
In a basic income strong.
Of all now the right in song
Or in speech for truer fight
As for future of more might
In Needful Penny not wrong.
Thus even if a fight long,
One well needful anyway
For a world, an upright way
Of communal, mutual love,
Also universal dove
Of peace, not woe on old clay.

A la de buitre manada

Manada buena nueva lejos ida
a esta la sonora, boba ciudad,
donde estada mi larguita bondad,
donde pueblo de sin verde manía.
Ella pues de la buitre vieja amiga
del alto vuelo con la carne pronta.
De aquí por yo vista la de aguas onda,
en aire buitre estado en rico vuelo,
bajo este de la tarde rojo cielo,
cerca de yo alma más verde, redonda.

Antiracist Wisdom

Handsome handsome all black
In any body sane,
Such as that King, no hack,
But of all blackness main.
Blackness her own good thing
Of song, of lovely folk,
Even after loud ring
Of the whiteman his yoke.
That olden hate his time
Up now since every soul
Awake in every rhyme
In fight with racist toll.
Thus, every hue or shade
From blue under sun made,
To white away therefrom,
Better in friendly hum.

Accentual Hexameters

Mine in the marsh well a heart after only good green for a world good.
Many a folk much too foul in a wain of petroleum fuller,
But the dioxide too much, almost now the path lost fully sadly.
Wonderful evéry land —in my heart for each land a hope steady.
What of the meadow, the land, or the woody, the marshy, the drier?
Under the weight of the stone—all the asphalt, the concrete, the metal.
Nature magnificent, laud with an endless to thee greatest kudos!
Nature or Godhead, my spring of the ethics, the true future beauty!
Crafty my song ever wise for a greener now truth everywhere yes,
Not the lie of the filth been out of capitalism so greedy.
For thee, oh Nature, my song, my good songcraft, my time now without end,
Lest the too much unaware folk well hither well thither unwisest.
Oh blithesome Nature, oh God, for whom all my mind, all my kinder
Word up to when by folk sight of the evil of whatso ungreener.

Accentual Sapphicks

Oh my mother Earth of the marshland wider,
Where the alligator  in water gladder,
By me for thee greatest the love indeed yes, truthfully deeply.

Wherefore by the mankind such hatred for thee?
How then ever someone so evil, heartless?
Whatsoever well the truth of the matter, mother, always love best.

Oh my thing full now of the greatest ache, smart,
Myself here now still whensoever howso,

For thee, with my deed more upright, as more the carbon dioxide.

A Rustick Song

Oh Wisest Albert Gore,
Old Master with great, loud roar,
Of good folk ever the fight,
For a cool, blissful night,
Not the asphalt of car,
Nor dead flesh from afar.
What a sad world this of Man
Greedy with wall as with ban!
Where the love of the song?
Or the wisdom of a lore strong?
By me, still, with thee ever fought
The filth of the shininess bought.
Soon here another hot summer,
Another thermostat number;
Soon more woe — what else then?
Every rich child in his den,
But needy daughter dead
Of far-land, on her bed.
Forth nonetheless the path,
Of holy, green truth bath!
From every scientist
A hotter, wordy mist
But all that this indeed:
By each earthling the best seed
Not for storminess, nor tide,
Nor higher wave on town side.
This the time for song, for good,
For ungreen all withstood.

Tanka Ninesome

This a Nippon
Song from the heart
In English,
For Earth now sick
Most deepsadly.

Why then, eh,
This ungreen great
Without end?
The endless fire
Of unwisdom?

Here sat on
Aught cheaper as
Water still —
Mine a hope grown
For all folk woke.

Trauma born,
Trauma more done —
By me the
Trauma seen too,
From each glass-side.

Each guilty,
Each unaware or,
Shameless oh!
Mine a heart for
Good, as for Earth.

The time for
More ever sung
Now yes as
The truth out well
Mid weather woe,

Even if
Green a thing hard,
If the world
As wide as old,
If the woe far.

As one the
Folk mightier,
Such that if
By each a word
Wrought, then all right.

Here the night
Full whole afore
Me a wretch,
But carer still
For Earth indeed.

The Greatest Ecopoet or Self-Adulatory Ecopoeticks

The cyber word, poetick might my craft so penniless,
Yet here my heart, my time, my soul, in every line some bliss.
My love indeed for Earth alone, not for dioxide freer,
But for a world, a folkdom true, the wisdom great not weer.
Syntactickly a maze indeed, for deeper eco-thought,
Here nigh the blow o' friendly fan, the blade threesome, not hot.
Here ramble now o' word too much, but word indeed for Earth,
For wider wisdom everywhere, of idleness the worth.
The scientist mid politicks (yet free o' bias great),
From her a word anew with us, "The greenhouse-death not late."

"Tropical Storm Tembin leaves 120 dead, 160 missing in Philippines"

Tropical storm in Philippines, landslides, many a flood,
Such that a hundred-twenty dead—Zamboanga in blood.
"Many the folk in rapid flow, in deadly rapid water",
Ochotoren' his word, "By tides so high dead daughter."
This the latest disaster now, the typhoon twentysome,
Yearlier true climatick death—(Oh Human, thyself dumb!)
Catholick christmas almost here; this the by Godhead speech,
"Oh Human, Human no more please, dioxide at quick reach;
Oh Human, my small simple word (as Godhead now so mild),
Mine all-imploratory word, 'Respect for all this wild!'."

The Threefold Path o' Metro

The metro full the ready best for all Miami bliss,
Not empty word o' politicks, nor ficklest mindlessness.
First down to Homestead needful path, the gateway to that pretty:
To west, the mighty, glist'ny sedge; east, sea far from the city.
Next inland deep another road to asphalt-land Sweetwater,
Nigh that unsightly Dolphin Mall, also nigh scholar daughter.
At last northward, as thunderbolt, to Aventura place,
Whereat the store, the luxury, many a folk, a race.
Thus here the end to my long tale (mine eco-mind no fridge),
Gimenez person masculine, head o' this olden ridge.

Ode to the Megathermal Florida

My wonderful, my dear dear land o' that Tequesta tribe,
O' Latin, Cuban throng this now—many a race, a vibe!
Among many a prouder bird (oh Egret o' my beat,
Thy limbspan majestick indeed!) amid the summ'ry heat,
But now midwinter here howso (throughout the anglo-land),
Such that the merc'ry nether more, colder also the hand.
My Florida, indeed thyself, once o' Timucua folk,
Apalachee, or Calusá, now naught by whiteman-yoke;
My Florida, all-needy land, Miami o' my yell,
Oh Capital o' hueful folk—my sedge, my ridge, my well!

El pentadecasílabo o metano principé

Yo el Oja Nueva el Verde aquí en cíber santa red
tras pura hacia la tierra amor, al suelo más merced.
En yo de kilo alguno na, solo vieja palabra
de la más antigua bondad al cielo o pobre cabra;
ya que de tu modernidad, Miami grande bobo,
el sucio malo dióxido, hasta muerte de lobo,
pero por yo gran vela pues, ni sueño en ningún ojo,
mas pronta sabia ya opinión de mal, de bien, de enojo,
de todo odio hacia este suelín—sobre asfalto ni pie
así que dióxido ya rey, metano principé.

To the Racist Colony of "Israel" or Unholy Judea

"Playing in Tel Aviv will be seen as giving support to the policies of the Israeli government, even if you make no comment on the political situation."
Unholier bloodthirstier than any other land,
Fully the phony Hebrew word, a joke by Yiddish hand,
Thyself the monster o' the world, a bridleless racism,
As Nazi as Hitler hisself, thyself purest fascism,
Thyself Judea evil thing, most shallow shameless sea,
Thyself so truthless every day, o' hate epitome.
A crime thyself an utter crime thy every word or deed,
Or show of empty politicks, neo-colonial greed,
Child o' the worst America, child o' the whitest North.
Judea, to thy naughty theft whenever stop now forth?

A Basick Income for All

My wish one for a good guitar, or master wiser too;
My love indeed for idleness, for olden tale, not rue.
A basick income the right thing, with also medicare
For all, for everyone indeed: the thing most truly fair,
Whether in desert driest land, or wet metropolis,
Whether in lovely Africa, or mid Siberian bliss.
The military endless fight with every evil word
No more the rightful law at all, nor truth mid folk or herd.
Thus this my word to everyone: free income good for all,
The monthly worth for better life, the fair share, not a wall.

The Curse o' the Magick City

Oh Miami, indeed hometown, but full o' greatest curse,
Such that the folk too sad right now, the neediness all worse.
How in the world thus evilly by soul such hate for earth,
Whether the endless western marsh, or drier ridge o' worth?
The curse too high, the woe too much, in this Miami land,
In Florida inside so sick, but outside beachy strand.
Oh Miami, my third hometown, o' mad, restless year-tensome;
My sight now nowhither hopeléss, idle whereunder then some.
By family, by whoevér, by help o' godliness:
All behoof in a mindful thing, or wiser, wiser bliss.

Utter Ahimsa or Unharm

Unharm the highest truth for all forth on the godly path,
Since every being worthiest o' love, care or a bath.
This here my song to everyone, from smallest animal
To th' earth mother indeed herself, well pretty without wall.
In my mouth never any flesh, but rather sweeter crop,
Or whole or meal from the stove too—to hunger better stop.
On me no knife, nor any gun, nor spring of utter hate,
Since my good, my true love for all—however small or great.
Otherwise never mindfulness, otherwise death alone,
Since unharm greatest indeed good—whether for bird or stone.

Toda Ahimsa o Sindaño

El sindaño pues gran verdad, de donde todo bien,
de donde la más grande paz, por más más que años cien.
En esta boca mía pues, ni carne ni pues mal,
solo del árbol buen frutín, o rico arroz con sal;
pues ni a la tierra daño más, pues ni al ser más chiquín,
porque en este mi corazón ni de algún mal un tin.
Entonces por ende piedad solo en sindaño ahí,
donde en la vida gran valor, el amor mucho así.
Por cada alma de cada edad, pronto con santo pie,
mejor paso con liviandad, no soberbia sin fe.

Holy Stretch or Calisthenicks or Exercise

The holy stretch of every limb, many a way indeed,
With the body nimble or stiff for o' some strength the seed.
The breath a good good thing as well, as slow as also deep:
From bottommost o' belly great to nose or mouth wind-heap.
Holy indeed the quicker press up down so mightily,
Once or twice every now or then—more bliss indeed for me.
The calisthenicks then the key, the way upward to good
For body almost as of iron, or hardest, swarthy wood.
The good then there forevermore, in longer, sweetest stretch
For endless bliss o' handsomeness, not woe o' dumber wretch.

Holy Lust

Oh body o' the utmost shine, so youthful after time,
This here to thee somewhat tribute—my lustfulestest rhyme.
Oh body o' the whitest hide (such fairness wonderful),
On thee the truest handsomeness, for thee my hot wish all.
Oh body o' the tightest hide (that Aryan witchiness),
O' thine the longer, gentle foot—my dream of utter bliss.
Oh human o' the sappy tail, by me for thee too much
The lust, the thought, this crafty sin, of a mighty hope such
That here my mind once more once more, broody over the limb,
The limb his ever nimble shift—(oh endless this my whim!).

Basick Income

An income greater bestest right, for every soul in town,
Whether the mother at the home, or father up then down.

Universal Healthcare

The health for all the next good thing, such that all sickness short,
Also by all more wiser love, for body temple fort.

Mass Transit

Through every street or broader road, a bus or metro good,
Such that the quickness green indeed, of all the neighborhood.

Calisthenick Park

The stretch o' sinew mighty thing, for folk indeed all healthy,
Whether in plaza or in park, whether needy or wealthy.

Publick Housing

A home the area for kin, there where the roof a shield
From heavy rain or hottest sun, in gladsome, greener field.

Ode to Coffee

Now in my time alone o' bliss, with song-stream in my ear,
Now at this time o' sundown dim in my young heart no fear,
Since by the coffee o' yore-day my belly full all-glad,
My body also full o' chill, free o' that winter sad.
(Oh land o' need old Florida, why on thee such a curse?
Why truly then forevermore on thee the tide much worse?)
Coffee howso a godsend good, also the little thatch,
Whereunder still the healthy head after the wordy match.
That blackest drink from quickest seethe my holy water such
That from my mouth a pretty song, that line by line love-much.

Ode to the Ode

Oh sweet sweet song my endless ode, from thee all gladness great,
Whether under the brightest sun, or welkin dark by fate!
Through every match o' word with song by me more life with soul,
Whether amid the curse hereof, or bliss o' desert hole.
Herein in every pretty line some truth, some greatest might
By me the wordsmith, as o' yore, o' word-stream weighty, tight.
Where truly then the olden lore, o' longer song so witchy?
Or melody o' Puritan, romance o' Roman itchy?
Now a new time o' computer, a time o' digit-googol,
Wherewith by me an endless song louder than loudest bugle.

"Stop working, universal basic income is ready to go mainstream"

Long long ago an author-mind, the little Thomas More:
His the "Utopia" olden tale, a myth o' newer door.
Then later Marx a wisest mind, by him a mighty word,
"In latter day a newer door, o' wider, wealthy herd."
Newliest with the folk the thing, "an income well for all",
Since tech too smart the newer threat to every animal.
On top thereof worser now too many a weather shift,
Whence Mother fullest of all woe, all death mightily swift.
After the long year-hundredsome now here the world so glad
Under the truth of income more—basick income no fad.

Worship to the Robocar

Oh robocar—ro…bot….or car? Oh new new Earth!
No more a wheel no pedal more, but rather technoworth;
This world a world o' mighty bot, mighty more than old steam,
Cheaper soon (oh so cheap indeed)—the ecotechnodream.
What work? What evil ever then? Computer wisestest,

than that no soul smarter at all, than that binary mist,
That mist of utter wisdom wide throughout unfriendly land,
Wheresoever for info need—in Robot cleanest hand.
O tempora! O mores! Yes! No need for magick rod,
Nor a monotheistick tale, since each digit a GOD.

Worship to de Blasio the White Head o' Manhattan

Oh Manhattan, island of old, oh Blasio the head,
To thee my worship herein well from a tropical bed:
Worship to thee, a worship great, every day o' the year,
In this long fight with smeary filth, without any old fear.
Woe to the diabolical, the devilishest thing,
Petroleum however much, petroleum the king!
Woe to the seller o' the death, woe to him every day,
Since Earth now sick however much, Earth Mother sadly yea.
Oh Blasio, oh Democrat, on thee my every hope
In the fight with evil himself, with any Petropope!

"Global warming"

World overheat, or weather shift, whereof many a mind
Ware. Circa Eighteen Fifty then up to now heat too great;
Paleoclimatick as well truth that this heat too great.
By IPCC this, "This heat for long time now by folk."
A spring o' heat the greenhouse gas, such as carbon dioxide,
Methane, nitrous oxide, as well. Two thousand hundred, thus,
World heat greater soon to at most 3.1 Farenheit,
If not much more the gas by us, but if more gas by us,
Then at most even 8.6. This study good with each
Scientifick academy, o' this so filthy world.

Furthermore: In each land a climatick shift soon, such as — greater heat worldwide, a greater tide, more or less rain. The overheat more over land than sea; also more on Arctick ice. Another shift also mad weather, such as — swift heat, drought, flood, snowfall, a more acid sea, animal death. Woe to folk also less food from crop-yield, or town-land emptier under too much water. Since climatick shift rather slow, this new heat here for many a millennium.

Ode to the Bean

Oh my dear bean, my holy food, after stove rather good,
So sweet, so hot in any mouth, in any neighborhood.
Why ever need on anyone for any other food,
When on a board more readily a bowl o' nothing rude?
Woe to him full o' deadest flesh! Such evil worst of all
O' mankind breeder, mankind dumb, behind a deathy wall.
In me no death, nor any hate toward a being dumb,
Since speech alone nothing too great, but rather heart not numb.
Thus this my word to everyone ALL FLESH AN EVIL THING
Such that the true food, for all health, the gladsome bean the King.

The Most Beautiful Verse Yet to Earth Mother

Earth mother, oh my dearest thing, 
Whereon my gentle foot,
By me the wish as of a king, 

That from thee good output.
Earth mother, blossom o' my heart, 

On thee such endless land,
Or to some storm a newer start, 

Sometime by folk his hand.
Earth mother dear, for thee my love, 

Wherefore by me small filth,
But by mad folk always some shove
Away from better tilth.
Earth mother, oh my mother old,
Mother of all the folk,
By me for thee a care so bold
In every deed more woke.
Earth mother, yea, loveliest light,
Whether o' widest sea,
Or high volcano loud at night,
Or under sun a bee.

"The Cow in the Room"

Oh Manhattan older great town, where love for Earth so much,
Where now a fight with Petropope, where Blasio king such,
A friend o' thine the Cali land, as well as this myself,
As wisest smartest as as well the oldenestest elf,
But in the room an elephant, or rather wretch o' cow,
Or chicken sad in sadder barn, or to folk swine in bow.
No more! No more! How so dumb folk? Or hypocritical?
The flesh indeed on every dish, worse than the Trumpish wall!
From each life-thing a belch or dung, wherefrom the methane great,
Wherefrom more later th’ overheat, the death, the unwise hate.

To Air Conditioner an Address

Thine evil worstest yea—thy heat, thy din, thy sea o' hate
For Earth the Mother oversick, or all awareness great.
This here my eco-po'm, my life, also euphonick chill
With help from Walmart fan indeed on the Florida hill.
From thee that ever foulest mad, from thee th' overungreen—
From Hong Kong concrete jungle land hither just as unclean—
Yea Miami the land unclean the hypocrite his sea
American capitalist, land o' that fickle "free".
My word still here however dumb—however deaf thyself—
Since Earth herself so sick but rhyme th' old help as if from elf.


Oh handsome duck daughter o' God,
Oh gladdest waddler,
Thine well an endless smile or laud
To wretch-folk anywhere.



Oh whitest thing, oh mighty bird,
Thy mouth so long so strong,
Wherewith by thee in greater herd
Quick food from grass not wrong.


Oh Heron queen of all the land,
Oh mightiest in flight,
Thy limb-twosome nigh stream or strand
Therein thy proudest might.


Oh coot so cute in water cold,
Always nigh mate or friend,
For thine abode right here, so wild,
My wish or hope sans end.


Oh hueful thing from Egypt old—
At least at least in name—
Welcome thyself never in hold:
Mine fear of all untame.

The Free Meter o' Góngora

Oh idle day, oh idle night so good,
Wherein by me a song,
In this Miami sadder neighborhood,
So empty o' some friendship truly strong!

In this my heart a beat, a song so great,
Free o' the military, olden hate,

But rather full o' love,
A love from Godhead 'bove,
Where welkin or a dove.

A Handsome Song to Godhead

Oh Godhead everywhere,
In handsome hill or 'yond the broader path,
Where high tree full o' care,
In my heart wish for by thee thorough bath:

For body holy, cleaner;
For mind more heedful o' truth wholly greener;
For footmark on thee nor heavy, nor bad,
But rather lightsome, friendly, rather glad.
Thyself, oh Godhead, Earth Herself not meaner!

The Vegan Song

17 Pictures That Sum Up 'Humane Meat'
Oh ox, oh fish, oh swine, oh fowl so good,
Your flesh never my food
But rather all wort mine,
Such as the bean in line,
Such that my dish not rude
In this my neighborhood.

Oh veganism dear philosophy
Of endless ethicks greater than the sea,
Thyself o' good the true epitome!

The Handsomest Song in the Fight with World Overheat or Weather Shift

Global warming is real, according to NASA, which actually knows this stuff
Oh Planet truly handsome good so dear,
For thee my endless, truest love indeed,
For thee my life, my ear!

Oh ghastliest indeed soul without heed
Ever by whom on thee more evil filth,
By whom no care for seed!

My sight ever toward a better tilth,
Since mine not any wain fullest o' gas,
Mine not some flesh, but grass.

Basick Income or The Blissful Future

Mass Incarceration: The Whole Pie 2017
Too much, too needless, too unwise police
Ever after the guiltless wretch sans peace.

(Basick income for all, not dumb federal wall!)
So much ever the silly speech at hall,

Where money ever ready for more death,
Where for nobody needy even breath.

Thus this the truth indeed:
To basick income newer, greater heed.

The Handsomest Song in the Fight with World Overheat or Weather Shift II

Global warming: 2017 was second-warmest, last three years are record hot
Oh World of endless heat!
This here to thee,
Oh World, my greenish song,
My deepest hope for coolness never wrong.
Oh World of evil folk, without a beat,

Without a heart for Earth Mother the sick,
My wish that in thee soon more greener love,
More o' the tree, the coral, the small stick,
Also more o' the gladsome bird or dove.
All folk, howso, still far from Godhead 'bove.

My Youthful Neurosis — Her Motherly Narcissism — The Wide Complex o' Mulatto

My body full o' that youthful neurosis,
If any longer here then fine psychosis —
Oh androphilick wretch!

Her mind a maze o' great new narcissism,
Even if from that Cuban socialism —
Oh mother without stretch!

This howso the wide complex o' Mulatto,
Ever alive without a wiser motto —
Oh old Atlantick fetch!


Waste hierarchy — Wikipedia
"REDUCE REUSE RECYCLE," that the crux
For everything in greater, greener flux —

All the way from that China factory,
To Western land nigh sea,
Whether the little plastick thing for free,
Or even restful tea.

Thus then all evil over well completely,
Nor aught sourly foully, but all more sweetly,
Freely truly for Earth Mother concretely.


Many a day or night
In this the ungreen town,
Where neediness all right,
Where gladness ever down —

Yet from my mouth a song,
A hope for every field,
Whether the marsh so strong,
Or dryland without yield.

Ever my mind with work
For greener, healthy life
Full of a friendly quirk,
Free o' the wordy knife.

Ever my heart with love,
Yet here myself so friendless,
With a bright sun above,
Beneath an asphalt endless.

Ever my soul alive
With every hueful dream
O' walk or stretch, not drive
Nor flesh nor godless steam.

Oh friend, this here the thing
For her alone the queen,
For him alone the king,
For him alone the bean,

For him the gladsome frog,
For her the marshy bog,
For her Earth Mother sick —
For me youth lovely quick.

"The billionaire's guide to surviving global warming"


"Every day great when rich!
This winter oh so cold,
Thus, methinketh, some witch
A weather-shifter bold.

Every day great with dollar,
Free of a weather worry,
Since by no fancy baller
Nor care nor kindness merry.

Thus next the word the heedful
For every wealthy tater,
Ever over the needful,
Ever o' need a hater:

The beach house under water,
The resort now but naught,
Such that for thy good daughter
Now uphill home or lot;

Then helpful also too
A space ark full o' coal,
Wherein thine not a rue,
Wherein thy life, thy dole;

Afterwards, then a think tank,
Since thine the share (not sink-bank),
Since thy mind optimist
By phony scientist…"

Worship to the Robocar II

Waymo starts testing its autonomous cars in Atlanta

Here myself but a po't,
Most idle, gladsome wretch,
Yet from thee soon a throat,
A mind — robotick stretch.

GM is dropping the steering wheel in autonomous cars
Here my postmodern laud,
My unhelpful opinion,
That thyself almost God,
Worthiest yea dominion.

What soon o' doctor then,
Or even president,
If Robot without den
Better than some consent?

A 10-lane highway and Colorado's first autonomous vehicle lane could be prescription for west-suburban Denver traffic jams
The next step for the Earth
The handsome robocar,
From Hong Kong without worth
To New York without star.

The next stop on this ride
Toward greatest Utopia
A song witchy as wide 

Mid robot-Cornucopia—
3M Connected Roads aim to make life easier for autonomous vehicles
Oh Robocar oh dream,
Free o' Dioxide steam,
Or ineffcient Woe,
Or Narrow Road too slow!

Tacobellian Veganism

Oh fast-hand Taco Bell,
Where the corn ever ready
Beneath the bean-smash well
To my quick belly steady,

By thee the good food truly:
The handsome guacamole
Ever cheap never cruelly
As fatty never slowly;

The gladsome jalapeño
In every slice so hot,
In each mouthful Latiño
(Exotick quite a lot);

The red sauce goody truest
For any ethnick folk,
Whether the Hombre newest,
Or Muslim under yoke.

Thyself, Fast Food, oh corn,
The friend to every comer:
The Mexican her born
New nigh his wall now number.

vegan thrall o' thine,
So long as by thee food
With Aztec smack so fine,
With Mayan love not rude.

Oh Taco Taco Bell,
How so mighty as hell
Thyself through every sadness? —
Oh belchy farty gladness!

El posmoderno soneto

Yo mismo el gran poeta
de esta vieja ciudad,
donde mala verdad
de poca verde meta.

El Güifi la mi aleta
para la novedad
con nado en sociedad,
sin la de gas carreta.

¿Cuál la mejor ya dieta?
La de la gran bondad
sin carne ni maldad
mas amor al planeta.

¿Por qué bien alma inquieta?
Por no más suciedad
mas la sonoridad
de la canción completa.

Así ya el alma mía,
de cosa más en cosa,
cariño a palma en vía —

el en la calma fría,
el en la lluvia hermosa,
el en calor de día.

(Bella aquella utopía
de Tierra más sabrosa —
no lejana en sequía —

o bella la alegría
de alma muy amorosa,
de ser sin grosería.)

Ode to the Generick Brand

Myself a greenest youth
In each buy truly wiser,
Such that this doom the truth
On dear brand not for miser.

Indeed alone the brand
Generick truly eco
Whether from Walmart hand
Or yon Dollar Tree chico.

(This the true sonnet new
Postmodern fully bright —
In no rhyme any rue
This cool Miami night.)

No need for Vaseline,
Johnson & Johnson thing,
Nor Purell fancy clean —
But of all cheapness king:

The Great Value so good,
The Assured also too!
Nor water nor some wood
brand nor pretty hue.

To old dumb silly greed
This then the wiser word:
"The wisdom as the heed
Ever in mind o' bird."

To bad capitalism
Once more my socialism:
"No brand good for some name,
But for whomso not lame."

The Antifakenewsian Ideal


Pope Francis pens extensive anti "fake news" message
There mighty Pope hisself
With biblical a word,
Sinful indeed the elf
From a mendacious herd."

Even Fidel in glory
Along with holy Pope,
"Terrorism in story
Without for truth a hope."

First Communism bad,
Then Russian infiltration:
Now Trump a devil rad,
Full o' hallucination—

Oh mighty high Potomac,
Where every crony head
In often deal more gnomic
On capitalist bed!

What then this Trump,
This Pope, or even old Fidel:
In Latin jungle scope,
In Knickerbocker hell?

Oh endless tale, oh lie from
Heartland Bumpkin high,
From Coastal Journo mind,
From Canuck not behind!

The Ecoclinick


Why climate change is worsening public health problems
There ever chamomile
For the ever worse madness;
For sadness hearty meal —
No doctor without gladness.

Each patient agent there,
Every doctor disciple,
Since in the outcome bare
Better none archetypal.

In ecoclinick room, the 

Mat, whereon the stretch:
Since there the loudest boom,
Where each sinew a wretch.

(Many a time in life,
The sickness too great such
As o' the ache the knife,
Or o' the hate too much.)

Therein, indeed that brand
Of antiseptick strong —
On little child her hand,
Or the old-timer throng.

Moreover, bestest clinic
Never a greedy cynic,
But rather thereby love
For whether folk or dove.

A Playful Postmodern Sonnet to Lust

Deep in my heart a love
But too far from me sadly
Some seldom youth as me:
As blithe as carefree dove,
Nimble also too gladly,
One lover o' the tree.

In my heart worstest ache,
Since not nigh me a lover
With my most sinful lust:
O' tail on tail awake,
Of into something shover,
Of utter sweat with must.

There in the farthest woodland
A body on another
In sinful, lustful way,
In some great nordick good-land
O' welfare without mother,
O' sodomy in May.

Here howso nigh Latino
Only a drier word
Of endless boredom more,
But as a jalapeño,
So strong the youthful herd
In holy song or lore.

If by thee sight o' this,
Thyself friend o' my song,
Whether in far Hong Kong,
Or wide Arabian bliss.

New Ode to Coffee Bitter Drink

Oh coffee! Much o' thee,
Of utter bitterness,
In my well idle mouth!
From thy o' strong smack sea
My energy o' bliss,
My sight to West or South.

Oh wonderful old thing,
First in the Goat his belly
Now to my worthless life
O' song as sharp as knife.
In my bath-life not smelly,
Great later thyself King.

(Oh madder Southern day,
Here now in this Miami,
Town worthless more than all!)
Anyway, thyself way
Not sweet as the good Mamey,
But might as rise from fall.

Well nor the Dunkin shop,
Nor that Starbucks o' late
Better in any shape,
Than the French Press the stop
To any slackness great,
Or madness as of ape.

In thee the focus long,
The mighty mood well ever:
Too the bitterness clever
In me way o' smart song.

The Inherent Antifeminism of Intercourse

to the dear Amy Schumer, to the sisterhood at
Amy Schumer speaks out on Aziz Ansari controversy


(There well in restful heath,
Not ever need o' swing,
Nor mind corrupt, unmild.)

Yes, the child therefrom yes,
But at what price indeed,
What burden to dear Earth?
See, seldom by the press
The truth of endless seed:
Maiden now thrall sans worth.

Wherefore life then this way
O' boldest manliness,
Yet dumber sisterhood?
Whatsoever the day
O' this long silliness,
The need now for new good.

The new lady a mind
At work for evenness,
Not life of underling:
Each new human a thing
Of utter greatness, bliss,
Before, never behind.

This tempus now, this aetas
Postmodern, truly fine,
Without masculine wine,
Without fight for some fetus.


Worship to thee Great Eagle
O' Shackamaxon old,
O' Coaquannock bold,
Land o' Lenape regal!

Worship to thee Great Winner
O' the Lombardi thing,
Token o' might o' king,
Token never o' sinner!

Worship to thee oh Philly,
Oh Brotherliest Love
Of American Dove,
O' land nether as hilly!

Worship to thee Old City
O' Wonder-Constitution,
Wherein this institution
Capitalist, too gritty!

Worship in Goodness name,
Vnder Godhead, through word
O' friendship well forever,

Nor ever worthless, lame!
This my song to thee herd
Of Eagle holy, clever,

Not at all as sans tea
New England evil, flighty!
Thus hence anew once more,

Sportive 'Merican sea,
Esoterica mighty,
Of as free as brave lore.

Seethe o' Cinnamon or Hymn to Aroma

Oh Aroma great King
In the home of a soul
Lover o' no foul hole
But o' breath in each thing,

Nigh me thyself my wish,
In this home in Miami!—
Nigh sweeter, fruity Mamey
Or citrickiest dish.

From seethe o' cinnamon,
From seethe o' sourest water,
Therefrom well the mild daughter
O' Dimmest Holy Dawn.

(Too much the indoor cold,
Too much the indoor sickness
O' that chemical thickness
O' Capitalist bold! —

There much in Singapore,
Or Hong Kong concrete hell:
Here too nigh that Great Sea
Or Mighty Sedgy Moor.)

Thus from Cinnamon-Swell
Ever glad nose in me,
Not the boredom o’ prose,
Nor Ignoramus John,

Such that no more the sickness
O' Worker her wretch-nose
Mid Toxick Lurker drawn
Out in a gassy quickness.

New Ode to the Fan

Oh wonderful my Fan,
So little, yet so mighty,
In every swifter blow!
Better well thyself than
That other worthless flighty
Machine, energy woe.

Already here the summer
O' heat so sweltery
But Fan always the best.
Only the folk much dumber
Indoors fake-wintery,
When nigh Fan better rest.

Whereas much folk so silly
That hisself in the home
Not enough natural,
By wiser greener Billy
A fan nighby in dome
O' tropick welkin all.

Fan always friend to life,
Whether in great Siberia
Or little Carib island —
From air duct cold his knife,
From air duct great bacteria,
From air duct unreal highland.

By me no needless waste
But rather more aware
Mind with truly deep care,
With for great filth distaste.

Greendom Sought

Greendom newly now sought
In this the asphalt city,
Where air-conditioner
Too much waste daily bought.
Oh sadness, sadness, pity
On Earth modern o' blur!

(My life indeed all clean
Before this fine computer,
Behind new balcony,
Even if in this mean
World o' the master-looter,
Vnder whom work unfree.)

Greendom still sought well much
In every land of Earth,
Where truth still well alive,
But by a folk oh such
Too little smarter worth
For way o' to green dive;

My song this here the way:
No more petroleum,
Nor too much away thrown,
Nor hate in summ'ry May,
Nor pseudoscience dumb,
Nor work ethick alone.

Greendom well still in love
For Earth, for everything,
Whether stone strong as king,
Or in flight harmless dove.

Bloody Miami or Gun Control Now

Cops Search for Suspect After Man Shot in Wynwood Carjacking

Wherefore the needless death? —
The palm post-hurricane
Still well alive yet breath
No more on victim-lane.

Neighbor Tells Of Heartbreaking Moments Helping Mother Tend To Dying Child
Precarious life! Oh, need! —
Where wealth at all amid
The greatest Latin seed
Vnder o' complex lid?

The mayor worthless white,
The police too too much:
The firearm day as night,
The cute racism such!

Study: Gun Violence In Miami-Dade Disproportionately Affects Young Black Men
The dearth o' culture great
In every school herenigh:
There all awareness late,
Or child on boredom high.

Thus long the path o' town,
O' foulest Narrow Road,
Whereon fire up fire down,
Whereon on each his load.

Hispanic Voters Will Never Elect a Black Miami-Dade County Mayor
Miami maddest shit
Of old wretch without wit
Or tourist without soul!
(Here ever Cuban hole.)

Trumpian Paranoia or The Great American Mental Health Crisis

o' Wikipedian wisdom a blank verse pastiche, in response to "Trump calls for shutdown…"

Paranoia an instinct
Or thought process from worry,
Or fear oft up to madness.
With Paranoid Mind also
Persecutory Mind
Or belief o' some threat.

Paranoia no Phobia,
Which irrational too,
But often without blame.
With Paranoia too,
General Unbelief
Of other folk, as well.

For example, a thing
Apparent accident,
To Trump rather intention.
Paranoia First Symptom
Of Ancient Fine Psychosis,
Wherefrom too hard the flight.

Many a soul unwishful
O' needful diagnosis:
Many a Doctor dumb.
Oh Trump, oh president,
Nigh to my song thine ear! —
My wish for better world.

(Truly at risk that Trump
O' some Ancient Neurosis
Or New o' Drug Addiction:
Or some worse thing indeed? —
Oh Gens Americana,
Antique Popule,
Nove Ordo Saeclorum,
Why by thee love for him?)

A Frog at Midnight

Midnight by froggy sung,
While by song myself struck;
By him much held the lung,
Which to me songy luck.

Outside my new home there
Still mighty o' frog croak,
While in my head mind bare
Of Earth her woe in smoke—

"Why by a soul the cool
Held at work endlessly?
When out o' home the rule
Upright for no light fee.

Why so endless the ad
For iPhone or a car?
Capitalism mad,
From needy folk if far.

Why need for food death-born,
For more need o' sick-hall?
Best rice, bean, okra, corn,
Pumpkin, well tropical.

Why o' folk not the mind
O' need for further deed?
Much folk unwise, not kind
To science, nor to heed.

Oh world, oh man, oh woe
Of ignorance old foe!
What now o' sicker coral
Been white from heat immoral?"

Basick Income

For everybody free
Penny come the right well,
On top whereof work-sea
With greater space, not hell.
The government a tree
Whereto the wealth as spell*,
Wherefore of all the right
For longer sought good light.

*as spell, magically

Universal Healthcare

Health for all, medicare
The thing good for the folk,
Not richer Pharma Bear,
Nor sick folk under yoke
(The world too mad, no care,
This now timeliness woke),
Wherefore of all the need
For for good newer seed.

Mass Transit

No more the toxick car,
Wherefrom that endless foul!
Of each towner the star
O' democratick howl,
Not silent nod to far,
Political thrown towel.
The folk as one well ready
For bus-lane, metro steady.

Calisthenick Park

No more from flesh the fat,
Nor sick old-timer down!
First need for park with mat,
Then need for trainer-town,
Such that none the thrown hat,
But each the hide sun-brown.
Outdoors the better time,
Vnder welkin, with rhyme.

Publick Housing

"The rent too high damn damn",
That spoken by wroth breeze.
Where then the roof, not sham
O' landlord without ease?
Where then the welfare-gram
Sworn in, the old reprise
O' democracy found,
The constitution sound?
To the Murderer Tensome I

Adam Lanza

Oh shy, shy, shy young soul,
Wherefore by thee the shot?
What ever thereof goal?
Now small, guiltless child naught.
Where then motherly role?
Or o' more kindness lot?
Thus sadly from youth weird
To suburban mad beard.

Opinion | What Congress Has Accomplished Since the Sandy Hook Massacre

James Holmes

Oh friend o' modern day,
O' Batman, or glass-game,
Wherefore thyself on way
Once then of utter shame?
Now thyself in the clay
O' prison much too tame.
Forever, yes forever,
Thine a heart guilty, clever.

Aaron Alexis

Oh mad, mad soul, wherefore
By thee the great shot done?
"End to the torment", sore
Spoken by thy mind-run.
Oh handsome, little Moor
Vnder suburban sun,
Such the outcome of all:
Gore beyond any wall.

Christopher Harper-Mercer

"A man who was known by
None, is now known by all,
Everyone. His face high
Across every screen, wall,
Across lips o' wide sigh
On Earth, in every hall:
In the course o' one day,"
By Chris thought ere on way.

Rizwan Farook

Oh child of Allah High,
God o' the Muslim throng,
Why by thee evil sigh
O' wish for gore too strong?
Once more, the newer lie,
The newer excuse long,
When thyself but a towner
On nor upper nor downer.

Metro-Wide District Cool

No more the private cool
As needless as the gas,
But better soon as rule
Seventy eight for mass,
For whether highborn full,
Or needy, nether class.
Thus then the better life,
Not o' waste heartless knife.

No Non-Commercial Transport

No more the private car,
Wherein now one, not five.
Better indeed the star
Fivesome o' speed alive
In publick bus to far
Or nigher place in hive.
This indeed what too needful,
Yet too much folk unheedful.

Less Folk on Coast

The coast now not for folk,
But for all nature free,
Such that better no yoke
More thereon needlessly.
In the folk her hand woke
The might o' greener sea,
If from each soul the word
O' truth, not number herd.

Tax on Meat And Dairy

The cow on every plate
The belch or dung too wide,
Then the needless fridge gate
Beyond which all hate-side
On animal or late-
Ly sicker planet ride,
As by the global heat
The woe done nigh in beat.

Bus-Lane on Every Road

On every road a bus,
With his own pretty lane,
Whereon thither as buzz,
Whereon hither well sane.
No more the fume-full thus
Street as now with the wain,
Whereof the swarm too foul,
No democratick howl.

Shorter School Day

The child therein too long,
Mid lurker gassy foul,
Too cold, not for the strong
Hot soul, coyote howl.
Better short day, not long
To noon o' shower towel.
Child then best in daylight
With kin or folk upright.

No High-Stakes Test

Wherefore then much the test
For little, guiltltess child?
Her only need game, rest
With mirth, not lore too wild.
What good there at behest
O' master guilt unmild?
Better the lore o' soft,
Kindly will for Earth oft.

Full-Time Therapist

If o' child mind unsound,
Or too nether, unglad,
Then better nigh him bound
Master elder for tad
O' wisdom helpful found
Alone in heart not bad.
That soul the therapist,
If full-time mid wise-mist.

Transit Pass to Each

The bus alone that free,
Wherewith the road not mean.
Wherefore then child thought wee
In mind? Best for her green
Life forth to land or sea
O' restful kind far-seen.
This then the better path,
Not small-wain, the filth-bath.

Environmental Studies

The Earth the home alone
For all, for all the folk,
Wherefore o' concrete stone,
Or asphalt love unwoke
Better soon fallen, gone
Far from the guiltless stroke
O' kin-might, towner need
Here for the good, not greed.


Here myself mid the green
Little o' this wretch-town,
Where nobody smart nor well keen,
Where folk hardly ready or sound.
Too many a leader too mean,
Wherefore the folk much too down
In the shiny thing bought,
In the ungreen not fought.


By me much dream well done
For a world o' great soul,
But much the silly run
O' mouth without fair goal.
Mine a dream of a ton
O' love for land not stole,
But the where folk now land
Wrought hellish by shameless hand.


Myself o' the linden tea drunk
As a horse o' freshest water.
Soon in the gladsome sleep sunk,
Myself mid day less hotter,
Here now mid the urban junk
Of an endless din daughter
O' petroleum sicker,
O' climatick ticker.


Wherefore then folk ever stiff,
Not soft afore the storm?
Now the right time for the pith
O' that scientifick warm:
Nor this the day for more myth,
Nor long-tale o' better form
Of any petroleum thing,
Nor shale nor coal of all King.


Where then that true love
Of a brother not far?
The ridge, well, marsh here tough,
As any fiery star,
As myself gone as dove
With white waver over yard,
But little Man nigh-dead
Mid full filth more with blood shed.

Quinary Ethicks

Shame a good thing in all,
Nor well become too hidden.
When some thereof ere fall,
The ear or cheek then bidden
Become a red not dull
By brain, sinner of Eden,
Wherefore by all best done
Some shame ere doomsday sun.

Love a wonderful thing,
Whereby all the folk stuck.
His never too wild swing,
But nimble half-true suck,
Wherein sometime bane-sting
As of adder in luck.
Better love anyway,
Which whole in every yea.

Good whereof oft the folk
Vnmindful as a stone.
It never well in vogue,
But in fake way alone.
It true ever well woke
In flow heedful o' moan.
As yesterday as now,
Behoof in to good bow.

Worth a thing everywhere,
In all born o' the earth.
It well held holy fair
To folk behoof on girth
Of all the wide ball. care
For green in bliss, in mirth
Ever right ever good
In any neighborhood.

In heart the abode of
All kindness, mindfulness,
Wherefore best it full tough
By folk wrought in this mist
O' greenhousegasian, rough,
Dystopian mindlessness.
The heart howso if high
With whole truth, right, not lie.


Wherefore then by thee let
The dioxide all free,
In long wain-sale not yet
Vnderstood as not wee?
Therefrom on Nippon threat
O' bad-name guiltily.
Too sad, too wrong, but burst
Through thee this warmth most worst.


Oh Deutschland lovely, green,
On that peninsula of
Asia, why so mean
Thyself? Dystopia
Here greatest indeed seen
Since mad eugenica,
Well through thy sale o' hate,
O' Benzin-lover fate.


Such by thee greatest scandal
To Korea still brought
Through endless sale o' vandal
Gas-burner whereby sought
Heat, earth shit. Still the sandal
O' by greed Man wretch-lot,
Nigh handsome strand now wet,
As by thee more death let.


Friend thyself not of any,
But o' most shameless buyer.
If even worth a penny
(This why myself a sigher)
This land, then love for plenty
Publick green, not a liar
Marketer helpful not,
Nor greed on asphalt lot.


Henry an evil son,
Not o' whom well folk proud.
His car still on road run,
Gone selfish under cloud
O' nigher storm, but won
By each soul softly loud
All life with thee forsworn,
Forgone, nor blindly borne.

Big Psych

Thy shamelessness too much,
Inside greedy health-care.
Wherefore then thine oh such
Carelessness in thy lair?
Thy friend alone the judge
With richer Pharma Bear,
Not the unagent patient
Brought to naught in this nation.

Big Judge

Wherefore thine a great a sight,
If quote on quote but blind?
Wherefore thine a great flight
From truth o' broke, unkind
World wherein endless fight
Now before now behind?
Better the random draw
O' some neighborly law.

Big Pharma

Wherefore then the new pill
For some arcane, old sickness?
Nor cheap ever the fill,
Nor needful thereto quickness.
Wherefore even the will
For needless generickness,
When generick alone
The herb nigh olden stone?

Big News

"Big news! Big news!", the shout
From coastal, unfair bliss,
Ever after gore out
In bad far-land his mist.
Wherefore by thee so loud,
Well thought too shackleless
Some psyche bad, abnormal,
But not president formal?

Big Plant

From thee the endless car,
Or material for house,
Too tall or nigh the art
Heartless o' suburb mouse.
Wherefore thy now dim star
Still high, when to death spouse?
By you all well indeed
Bestrewn o' chaos seed.

Carta parientera

¡Cuánta tristeza aquí
lejos de lo más cerca,
como tú! Pa tú así
esto por yo, que terca
mañana pronto ahí
sobre el agua en que verga
hecha más limpia, llena
de más ya lista vena.

!Qué triste sin tú día
ya muy muy pa yo largo!
pues esta ya alma mía
estada mucho en barco
de espera en bobería,
de razón fuera e marco
(ya si tú talvez ido
cerca e sol, dulce trigo).

Pues, gran pariente, más
cual que cuanto mejor,
ya que en la hermosa paz
del día descansador
todo bueno, sagaz
aliento rimador.
Entonces todo visto
bueno en sereno listo.

Tanta tu carne cruda
sin gran quema ninguna.
Tanto el fresco, la fuga;
nunca de tú la luna
estada pura, muda,
sino en la falsa cuna.
Mejor por este mi ojo
resuelto tu hondo enojo.

Aquí ya en fin tú yo,
pero este mayor canto,
en cual visto to moho
de lo vil sin buen llanto.
¿Qué santo? Pronta voz
llena de ningún mando
sin corazón, piedad:
esto la mi bondad.

Canto Miamero

!Miami de mi canto,
o tan viejón asfalto!
Esto lo dicho santo,
por vuelto verde, alto;
esta lucha con manto
de dióxido en gran salto.
Cada uno junta gana
en la palabra sana.

Lo sabio más que puro:
ese mal gas de fuego
ya arriba estada duro;
tras luz del sol pues luego,
calor aquí, cual muro,
pero esto sucio, nuevo.
Lo mejor solo el mundo
de verde bien profundo.

Nada bueno en lo largo
de un tiempo hecho peor,
tanto cuenca sin barco,
como casa en sudor.
Ni tampoco ya un arco
de robot con motor,
ni por eso resuelto
el enredo de inepto.

El sabio sabio vuelto
verde en democracía,
no ciego, sordo al cierto
verbo del grande día
estado en ser alerto
de ciencia, no manía.
Ni el bobo en su ceguera
pájaro ave vuelera.

Sencilla verdad la
mía de pie ya a pie,
pues toda santa paz
abierta en con más fe
no la moderna faz
de poco en mucho, pues.
Mejor la voz sagrada
con hondo llanto dada.

Omar Mateen

Next child of Allah, son
Of an Afghani father,
Oh first Floridian gun
O' death indeed then broader
Than any under sun
Ere Vegas dead by plotter,
Wherefore, wherefore, my friend,
That wroth, bloodthirsty end?

CHART: How Have Your Members Of Congress Voted On Gun Bills?

Dylann Roof

Oh little Dylan Roof,
Full o' such heartlessness
With dumbness without sooth,
In silly, gun-strong bliss.
Now what? Thyself a tooth
Yellow nigh fallen; this
Now thy dole indeed oh
O' nothingness, o' woe.

Stephen Paddock

Oh next gun-gore o' madness,
Oh hand without a heart,
By thee the greatest sadness
Out brought, evil but smart.
Amid musical gladness,
O' swiftest shot then start.
Thyself, bad soul oh Paddock,
Still ghost alone nomadic.

Devin Kelley

Oh famous escapee
From 'nother worthless home,
Whether for health or glee,
Since greed worse than mouth foam!
The church all slain by thee,
As early theater dome.
By weapon o' hate, further
Blood shed in 'Murcan murder.

Nikolas Cruz

Hello, new murderer!
Alive as only few,
Victim o' Trumpian blur
O' nor shame nor some rue,
Now what? More media-stir,
More needless glitz, more hue
Of empty speech. Still doom
Nigh wide asphalt with fume.


Main month indeed o' start
O' blissful, gladsome summer,
Where soon the breezy fart
O' noontide rain on hummer
Machine so needless; bar
Of adult* ever number
Bright ere hid hurricane
Out o' sea onto lane.


This truly now the time
O' swelter for the folk
So little without rhyme,
With greatness well unwoke.
Then myself with a dime
Maybe some sapless yoke
O' dream, o' hope more groundless
Mid chaos, future townless.


Hello, hello, hello
To the new month anew—
Nigh ever to the woe
O' mass unculture, rue
For mindless work tow'rd foe
O' mad welkin, heat brew!
This the time for all ready
Vnder the cloud well steady!


My yearday new become
On this month, sextile bold.
(Thine to my word ear come
My wish, Auguste; told
Early the truth o' hum
Of endless machine sold,
Yet here anew the Man
After the lie, or ban.)


At last dry hopefully
Day, Timucua, Tequesta,
Calusa, Apalachée
His in land o' foul jester
In for car ad so wee
In morality; rester
Myself here ever wakeful,
Since Earth indeed still acheful.

*legal drinking age is puritanical, groundless, since cars kill, not beverages, which, rather, help people connect socially, working also as mood-stabilizing medicine. Tell the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and ExplosivesDepartment of Justice to abolish the age-discriminatory restrictions on alcohol purchase.


A solar panel better lain
For longest time on roof,
For light well done by sane,
Green soul with steady tooth,
Even more for the main
Folk, which needy, in truth.
Thus, then the world, as rain,
In great flow, in new youth.

(Myself well ever fain
For greendom, wiser right.)
If come some hurricane,
Afterward better sight
That of all good, all sane,
Not town too much in blight.
Thus this what better, main —
All well from Sun her light.

Glass for Hurricane

For hurricane withstood
Or cheaper cool for folk,
Then better that tough good
In glass twosome in yoke.
Otherwise, neighborhood
With shutter, iron unwoke.
Thus this my word still stood—
It good, strong house, not coke.

(This here the last of silly rhyme,
Since, hence, all Roman kind.)
Through glass, indeed, sometime
The death if far from rind,
Or nigh some gun, not mime,
But with the glass, still mind.
Burdensome, indeed, lime,
Once thence let sap, with grind.

LED Light

Oh world, oh world of dumb
Mind under the sick light!
Better LED, rum,
Tobacco, any night!
The green therein the sum
Of Man his wiser bright
Work, thought for world not numb,
But open to good, right.

Wherefore then penny naught
From worthless older thing?
Better LED sought
For cheapness of all King!
For the wonderful lot
Of wisdom, not dull bling.
My folk, my earth, my hot
Swarm, become sooner swing!

English Sappho

Queerdom, if loud, strong, ever at the town hall—
Where the Man, Business never at the folk’s foot.
My headache gone strong, sickly soul this of mine, but pretty each thing.

Ever my heart with love,
Yet here myself so friendless,
With a bright sun above,
Beneath an asphalt endless.

Queerdom, if proud, high on a truer all-love—
Not the lie, fox-lips of a head never good.
As one always best the shackleless all-truth—not the utter filth.

My soul......gone empty.
Whoever queer-born,
workless, childless,
he, also......gone sad,
in this town.

From the folk, some born queerer as the brightest
Noon sun (oh sad world!)—any love?…beneath lie,
Slain, utter day-night. What?…unner that endless, heartless, unupright.


Here the self friendless, but a heart fullest with
Love—the bestest kind, with a deal o’ some lust.
Oh little world, oh silly folk, utter bliss, soon together!

Patreon powers membership businesses for creators by providing them with the tools they need to acquire, manage, reward paying patrons.

Patreon…by me all o’ world sought endless—
Youth his outness here, everywhere for the good,
Right of all, well, folk o’ the kind gone after handsome utterness.

Green Mindset

All the world, in truth, if anew wrought, indeed,
Then better, from ground up all after only
Goodness utmost in this unner the master heartless offentime.

Green a thing for love steady, only unharm,
Forth for all world best—none ever therein well
Hate nor, even, fear. Body none to whom a right for a heart slain.

Here better, where the pretty town, where all let
Out to each in need, any helpless, even.
(Where the love there, where the Potomac in swift, careless, utter flow?)

Maiden in thrall to a man, even if bad,
Whence, then, even wrought aor a newly born, such
That for ‘er this life a shackle duller more—even a hue still.

Craft, anew, much more, with a tool, utter might,
Such that even Hand, every day, more unhelp.
Even also Earth hotter as the fire-stream by any, it let.

radical—toward utter shift 
socialist—any by whom it thought, that in wealth, headship, any tool for whatever wrought, borne, sold, it better in the whole folk’s ownership or law
environmentalist—any by whom the land held clean 
pacifist—any by whom it thought, that any harm always wrong
communist—any by whom it thought, that anything better in the folk’s ownership, also that everybody worthy of enough wealth
local—any from a neighborhood

feminist—any by whom it sought, every right of the lady, the maiden, as each kind even
antiracist—any by whom it withstood, any hatred of unakin hue

ethical—in whatever there been the lore o’ goodness
futurist—any by whom it foreseen, whatever not yet come

A Song as Roman as Mine

Mine a for whomso love utter strong as long,
Even if mid this madder ungood out of
Mouth, one after, yea, another—but in me hope steady mighty—

This the song, word, truth o’ the poet ‘isself
Horace all sweeter with a stream ablaze through
Song without end, such that in, even, all bad, mine steadiest heart—

Stillness all holy, manifold, utter, stern
After ungood done, but offen gladder well.
By me it known well, pretty softness utmost too—sickly aught yet.

By me sought truly steady godhead in good
From some old wise lore, if aught even out here.
Whoever gone well from a lie away, his self then utter lain.

Mindfuller whichso, any word from inside.
Heedful, indeed, long song if after utmost
Wisdom, in truth, well, but ever number folk, even a headship.


It well right, every mind spoken about any
Thing, law, as none at all worthy o’ thralldom old.
Green folk well gone all and after a headship of
Folk, even th’ every head chosen aneath the folk;
It thence too gone aloud after a way aright,
Whence each soul therein all been for a deed anew
Chosen well together, whence everyone the might.


It, too, right, the goodest that for a soul well all
Even timeliness of kindness utter for each,
Taken, which let to all as by every friendship, Earth.
It, too, good, fought utter by every soul the hate
Through hue, wealth, love, ever year, kin, ever the witch,
Even some less ever strength—in a law, a thing
Whereso, if not aright, or in a friendship ever.


It right too, the aright truth, that ever with Earth
All folk, well not away; right ever even Earth
Held by folk well in all nigh every end, within.
For it well, a done all field with a healthy ground,
Even while a toward greendom utterly shift,
At last while, everyone been steady love for Earth,
Her network ever each, whence every healthy life.


It best, by everyone sought some other better
Way instead well of all this silly harm ever.
Green folk, well, gone aright after ever less of
Sick hateful weapon all, while of a foe aware,
Since it righter a shield for any as the self.
If need that, some ever thing fully withstood all
By it, then gladder each harmless of and the green.


Thickness then well of all wealth the spring of the bad
In friendship, within and work of an Earth ever.
By green folk, sought ever that better and good all,
Instead truly of all might in an and little
Swarm of some number and folk. Then all in the folk,
Each towner well aright, well better, all the and
While each right to the folk held steady by the law.

Elegiacs to Earth

So much th' in this world endless woe, even a deathly,
Even an evil, utter greed never and fair at all.
Endless wrought then a gas much mightier and than all else, such
That now woe come quick, heartless as and never ere.
What now even of and folk needy become? naught unner the
Weight o' the stone, as ever cold, as hot up and to the day.

How Man ever th' unbad, while and become and steady worstest?—
Deep but in each pretty heart truth o' the greendom utter.
Wherefore still lain each so idle as and fuller of filth?...
Which th' even which heard by every and ear awake,
Lastly which and steady seen as yon, th' amid all, th' ever endless
Road after road for a wain, where steady stood sickly sleep.

The Fivefold Basic Income

Basick if income, then gone kindlier all to well and each,
Nor with aught of busyness now bidden, even a need.
" regular intervals, not as a one-off grant."
Each ever and day or week, or month, or year, in all truth,
Good for a basick as and oftener income aright.
" an appropriate medium of exchange, allowing those who receive it to decide what they spend it on..."
Mighty well each penny, each and good dollar and ready in hand
More for a needier and soul, yet on and anything.
"...on an individual basis—and not, for instance, to households."
Basick then th' income, if for whoso, better always,
Not for a household, nor even an and body aught.
"...paid to all, without means test."
Well never on whoso let test of neediness and by
Folk any nor whenso. Who ever and not o' worth?
"...without a requirement to work or to demonstrate willingness-to-work."
Work? Whatever thereof and th' utmost for all even at all truth?
Mine an utter song good as th' anywhere busy work.

Hymn to Some David Buckel Dead Elder

Elder o' such boldness, such will for goodness, not an endless
Fire o' the fuel never and healthful for th' and world sickly too much,
Thine an utter heart and o' the great kindness th' inner and most.
Gone well thy death such so token of and the behoof in
Inborn and weather and helpful, not this thicker out o'
Gas sheet, wherefrom th' and from heat woe, unfair whereso!
Whenso, then th' above all folk thing come more as a noon's sun,
Such that this then utter well unnerstood by everybody.
Too much day which wrought long in and sleep by unawake folk,
Also by steady greed as madness as and whatever work,
Which th' and even utter loss o' time, if an after aught empty
Way, then all after alone gold, muchness, what then ever numb.


This here my pretty log for whoever and ready come well,
Since whatso good in and me, if on and web, utter.
So much in and each good! The yet and folk firstly come out, it
Need, so that later there been in and none a rue. 

Freedom if and even, better, utmost then, ever strong.
Each penny, only when as wide, steady right come, a good. 

Earth from an and endless thrown gas sicker even as and not
Once ever ere this time. Welkin, it and fattiest.

Unharm greater amid folk truth, as an and other even
Fight bloody on. What then once become of merry folk? 

Altogether love gone through each mind and quickly often.
As one thus better and each ready town, whichever.

Green Uprightness in the Roman Sixer

The body held cool by grass only nigh water.
Sunlight a greatest thing for all folk truly well.
Seventy eight all that sought by wise and summer.
From indoors no draft best for all cool held within.
Afoot gone any best wither and ever, on the street.
The bus better than anything, even than one own.
Whether not good ever day what and ever thorough.
Idleness, howso, best for and a life better.
From earth alone good food, which shown by wisdom all.
Even a bird-shell from harm, if and from business, oft.
Blissful alone in some corn, well, and who hungery.
Gone, thyself dear, gone soon away from all the flesh!

"Global Warming" II

Global warming - Wikipedia

World gone warmer, yes—through hundred of and sucky year-swarm.
This th' ever and which shown by wisdom ever tougher and more.
Most thereof and madder out o' the datum-set, from utter year
Nineteen fifty, as and even the of ice datum oldest.
By folk wholly this and a thorough woe, from the quickest gas
From th' everywhere fire most. (How, then, business stood amid doom?)
Nigh two thousand one hundred year, at and the lessest three
Mighty Farenheit more; if, however, out o' the folk more
Gas, then, naught at all and there been good, with then an and worst
World with a heat higher o' Farenheit, nine—fully woe.
What foreseen utter and by folk this which of and woe—
All risen and sea, rain greater, littler*, hotter and all.



Needy yes and myself hereat in the rather suckiest town,
For which utter thing then never in me been pretty gladness,

But rather and the bitter th' other and worse thing as out o'
Death yes of and the utter soul not well healthy nor even
Gladsomer. All the hereat th' ache, smart, what then to it in me
Done better and by me? Hardest indeed for it answer.
Love then it and self hard hereat in the utter shittiness now,
Where one all and from an and other all too far—yes of and still
Widest asphalt. What then by youth smart ever and done?
Hardly a thing helpful well right any truly there and been.
Yes then all and it that—myself an all and fully needy
Soul hereat in th' unfair, th' of all and boredom utter town.


Mindfulness greater by me held longer evermore,
For the of and me sake, for utter then well stiller and soul,
For thus ever. Truth in gladsome yes as and this alive word
In the of and greater, (what all and more lost steady by folk)
Wisdom. It utmost sought, love ever well soft, sappy and by
Me, youth—rightly what else? Wonderful yes yes ever world!
Here then at and written all this of and mine pretty word, yes,
Since ever and shorter this life become, even asleep more.
Oh world, oh Man dumb, thine ear here come th' anytime hope,
Nigh me, yea rather and blithesome, such as in lot* o' poolside.
Bliss, thus, greatest most amid and this world fully broadest,
Where th' everywhere soul more ever and lain oft sickly inside.

*lot fate


heat = (earth)(high sheet)(fire)
Heat the product well whole of about and earth his all and fire
That become even an up sheet of an and thickly height.
Godhead utter yet ever thereat and in greener, yes, a soul,
Where well in and truth strong, what merry so, as alive.

uneven wealth = (sale)(network)(gore)
Whichso wealth not ever th' even, that all and from stocky network,
Wholly the long, well alive way whereof out o' the gore.
Unharm but the alone way truly toward whatever fair,
Even utterly, well and since good all and done o' love.

more death = heat/uneven wealth
Much much still the an and death as out o' the heat everything by
Folk done utterly, ever more not all aught fully green.
Whatso green godly, whether and for whatever yet,
Since and Earth to the folk only father so much o' might.