you just never know

...when a spy will show. How about some poetry?

spies in the field: telescope.


we leave tomorrow for another town
but it is
the same
as the last.
the telescope we use
to pierce a portal to
both
is cheap and rudimentary.

this is exactly as saying I can
approach a little woman
in the shade and ask
her for her glasses
and take her around
the bend and go
into a tiny house and make love.
or it
is
exactly as saying I have
no couth.

the courageous youth in our midst would
say something different;
that is their task,

gargling in the aviaries and
the discos, humping things,

growling, grabbing their faces and their hair.

I have now with me a brand new telescope;
we are hoping for something new,
the eternal hope,

and we will be rewarded, we believe,

when I point my view upward and close my eyes.

spies are here!

...lurking around every corner.

spies in the field: give it over my son


sure we have children growing
in stalks of
corn,

chewing their navels and spitting
on their sweaters and
swearing at us;

there are train tracks to tide us over,
there are bullet cars and
timid trolleys.
secret lives dream of
escape
but
escape is for frauds.

frauds have children too,
but they are imbecilic and
juvenile,
ripping off cop cars and
singing about coffee shops.

the girls of these type have fawning brows,
the boys
irregular hands.

frauds would have it that this country is all about
stealing, but we’d
tell you otherwise:
the whole scheme of the place is
to play hide and seek.

more spies

Here is the second part in a new series of poems. Thanks for reading.


spies in the field: lolly gaggers go nowhere


we watched her from the forty-
fourth
floor

as she cut her hair.
a cool
metal soft to touch,
the scissors must have been
kind in her hand.

we felt the pulse of the night,
always the night,
always in us, our veins,

good evil doers, spies in the midst,
traipsing the skyscrapers
and

make-believe,
giving it good and gracious
until

spilling off a roof someday

we’ll land atop a car and scream.

the woman does not notice us;
we can willow and melt,
oh yes.

new poetry series - spies of the field

Hey guys, I've been going through ups and downs lately in what exactly I want out of my poetry. Call it a long overdue period of artistic growth/wandering/whatever. Here's a poem from a new series, then. Enjoy!

spies in the field: gilded


it is we who don masks
and take
away the cigarettes from
a parlor

and suggest a sip of coffee with
a dark glance.
the half-moon
circles under a waitress’
eyes

is not enough to riot.

we think of overturning our
secret disguise and go around bragging.


a car upturns down the boulevard
and the city reminds us
that

the holy grail is hidden in its
guts,

and pulsating even,
and screaming even.

one poem of two

Hey guys, finally, some poetry from ol' Christopher Rufflebottom. This is one of two poems I wrote on the fourth of July. Happy birthday, America, you fuck! Long live rock and roll! To read the other companion poem to this, check out: bohococo.blogspot.com. Baklava!


birthday: America


it’s my country’s
birthday today.

bless you in five ways, oh
America:

bake those apples in clove and
dump cinnamon on
their hides;

catch a horse and attach
beer bottles to its
black mane;

tumble a firework stand in
dust and run it
raw with red meat;

heckle a spectacle and kick it
over
a car tire;

be bold and shoot your gun into the
supple sky.

there-in now we all
feel awkward
and just,
we have baseball and we
have sex and
we have
our

violence and our architecture.

happy birthday, America!

final typed page from co-lab!

Here is the final page from the Boho Coco performance at Co-Lab! Thanks for staying with and lookout, cause finally there'll be posts of different content! Hooray! Bastille Day! Also, Co-Lab is the fucking place to be, so don't forget. Cool.



and listen to some bozo try to read it:

typed page from Co-Lab show 5

Hey guys, hey girls, things have been a little slow, but worry not, here is another typed page of random love from the Boho Cocos and Co-Lab and a night in limbo. Enjoy!




and here is myself reading: