Pony Payroll BOnes Talkin trips thru future's pasture of past and the memorial of dross
by Matthew PonY Bones Proctor
September 2016 Poems Poetics notes
How many rivers have you known?
How many rivers do you recall? You don’t have to remember tha names.
What goes down at the rivers. What happens upon tha rivers?
They took us to the oostanaula many many times. New Echota. Sat perched on that flood plain---Oostanalau RIver. New Echota the last South Eastern CHerokee Capital.
Tune us the slow seizure.
There is a slow silence from tha mouth door
Ole house tryin to collapse.
Ole house by the creek is a slow silence.
My soul is trapped in a cicade drift dreaming.
I have died thousands of times.
Imagining deaths. I have experienced this imagined deaths.
My sins are questionable in this sinful world.
Upon this damp shone dusk…
Every no one travels and stops at the toll
To tell the toll taker each unique individualistic
Symptom of nervous collapse.
THe body with a skull on top pivots barely registers a damn thing.
Today is the awful day.
You mean yesterday was the awful day.
=====Everyone walks into the river singing a pretty song.
I pray that you die on a day that you see the sky is beautiful.
You are buried in a giant clay jar.
Here comes the death holes with wings
Every military cult at once,
THe room is a junkyard. Books are gathering meat. I prefer a life without carpet
Death is a christ breathing
Or a little girl cussing
-pulling her dress up
Pissing her panties
When a rooster yowls at lunchtime on a Tuesday.
You know? You know what?
Goat man just rode……
...just rode on by tha other day….
Just tha other day…..
Horses in the pasture
Say i am the last
I walk my liquor slow
Town and country
Money don’t need tha world
Its thats simples
Money jus needs tha poor
Mr. TIme gets laid off first
Thunder without Rain
Is over time
When legs leap two….you may seee three legs leap
Those pumping thighs
Foam ocean where rivers have gone an died
Yu can only die if you want to
If yu make it athletic and try to die
That won’t work
Mother the boat is knotted
On water, tha boat is NOt
Moving so well,
I drunk wild
I drink tequilla
I drink more tequlla
I am the mule
Into tha void
Its like sleepwalking
Her cocaine body waas all goof grit...She was wielding that saxophone and busted Justin a bunch of times over tha head….he couldn’t stop her….i was kinda laughin...the sun was squawshin uup.
She fucks him up over tha head again with that sax…..she came over and we all never evens gots to play….She played that first note. Then sucked it back in with violence…..screeching “FUCK YoU JUSTIN”
She is the haunted saxophone….he has a cut above his left eye. I see him rear back and he punch irons that scrawn cocaine girl….the skonkin stops….she collides into the collapse of gravitational ….busts her skinny skull somehows and her blood is leakin out everywhere…
When tha moon gits fat the goose gits snapped…!
He would be dead by next spring….shipped back to wisconsin
Well the road went wrong
The sun and moon are not lovers
He don’t like the questions
Nor have the answers