"In the House of Galactic Women" - 10 poems by A.J. Kaufmann.

“Wax Hurricanes”

Weathercock century
pass
collision mistress accept
sweet land moment
for melted farmers
of scat misfortunate void
hiding death's hearth
in mood pockets
 casting moving perfidious dinners
their melting bullets of karma
 dropping glass
psalms on head land love
murder new play's apex
blast pines bending

painting
intoxication town
struggling with ropes of horizons
drunken chewing gum summer

drooling clock of loons
voyage us up
and kiss them
the world
morning edge in fast forward silence
pitch curl clicks of answers
point blank districts on voice peninsula
stripping cliffs
and old tribes chanting

in their blew corners was word
church apples along the current
crashing hats
 pursuing breath
heartless singles in the dressing room
magnum dancing
dark on -  driving engine street
zigzagged palms rock
 spray folk and canvas streamed
interpretation of a tropical raindrop
in semicircle winds revolving life's pages
or ghosts of ships
wax hurricanes
on two crust lanterns
approaching

“A Welcome Play”

A welcome play
another take freely
on mind element
far deepening
milk wind
mushroom wear
fly holidays
eyes world comfort

plum field reminiscence
applause dusk warning
those impatient to the
fullest been
bean strike habit
sweet paradise language
galaxies my rain
enthusiastically waiting outside
pouring

A welcome play
blood book sun
drunk fairy dirt
on bone arch
rag veins
sunshine let shrine
businessman's summer adventure

urban jungle flashback
lad of choirs
precious queer thing
mist cry shaken heart
figurative saint umbrella
welcomes written drops
of cat food and music
experiment down, Earth
calling all bodies

A welcome play
angels bald in harvest
love makes tea homes
falling conquered
moss speaks of the crop
cruel birds name songs
death happy
it was the folded season

“At Cafe Marx”

fast funky flight
on pseudo-Indian spirit parachutes
late 2013, a man I should turn to have seen
Luna Lenina, like someone from a z-movie
or early dystopian books
came doddering the brave sultry dawn
on a black pomada fluttering saucer
labeled unflyable
by hack eye
arcane fingers
suffocating in her tides' investigation
she missed our nature trails
but we landed in bed together
at quark lakes' bottom or in swing chandelier rowboats
dawn rainbows, in Earthly tongue
high and highly Germanic
playing arrhythmic acoustic guitars
writing awful poems
dancing to the tune of '68 Detroit
like it was still a dream of future generations...
bad apple baby, chocolate-coated
Cafe Marx is now closed
Berlin in aluminum fruit cans, rotting
pineapple soda remains
tastes terrible

“Chrome Tree Chirrup”

born white polluter
she kissed the humane killer om/on the masthead
pasted me blind
in writing process control
sleeping problem case
but, heigh-ho,
we found eject buttons nonpresent
onwards then, from pale 90s
golden garden garage America
lead galop
topographical banana with a wrecking bar
plus minus garbage
run the bikes, old Angels
so we can dawn the present
safe
in from the future death mess
of chrome tree chirrup
teaching to kill
the primal forest dusking
new breeds

„Junk Whales”

soft junk whales we, on frostbitten forks
of bigger giants
traveling irreversibly
with Polaris
a puzzler of drugs and faces
her inspiring neckline
compared to new New Mexico
or new moon on basalt lava donuts
vitamin mumble hey boobs
lead story was
the sun at night
became
her murder mural mansion
cut-price hippie cathouse
full of fast food books
hanging there in lunch space
boiling with my sex
old sci-fi stories
kids' love poems on riot bricks
served early with mate through the bedroom window
a fibre optic ghost of time
drifting on Afghan clouds
pushing
retiring to their sky hash
and drift bones
jamming with Kupferberg
or someone else unlike him

„Aftertaste (Freedom Pack)”

she dealt with fake 60's paintings, trip advisers, laced vodka
love?, why
yes, because she's my woman
I'm high on
Luna's naive scented schedule and 16y/o plans
rock cake carving climber
where toll neutron stars fade in from
run-up mock incidental music
I thought I composed
breathing her
out of a teenage dictionary
blah,
flute multiplier
to radio anarchy echo
then „Space Hymns”
hey baby, you've got to listen to this...
„I'm gonna screw you”
in astral years of flesh's parody
the aftertaste
of our latest free freedom pack, gazing.

“Dial x for Diagram”

I sing for
dial x

unsweetened part baked beach bum
sends cryptograms to settle
shell for memory
eyes for submarines
added time
wide aghast

stream the noct mechanisms
heavy up your skeletons

glass hours on Venus
mellow signals from
the Moon
blur voice
police
part science piece brain

trade
orange grove
for rebus holey stomach
megaton heart
for junked on psych rares
on youtube

whose heels click last

lowborn gang boy / nod nymphet
fragmentary time
dial x for diagram

“Scientifica Fantastica”

venom treasure
comfortably grass, drifting butter of soul
thundering away
use me as a coat
fly me like lead
in the rain
paste my figure into the
old town
cut out
vacant buildings

I'm showing suicide
there, fiction on love and invasion
of wish combinations
space art shadows
released automatically
angel's ship, stripped to boneyard
for the masses
drifiting to scales in headquarter heaven
dirt
direction-finding

rising
perhaps we all are scales
or fish
and should just quit
accepted into the
 contingent grown
filling camps
of  lids followed afternoons
lifted off
children chimneys
blood as weapon
play with what your mind learned
resistance

my satisfaction,
you're not whole anymore
quartz dark feather
rock hand structure
copy the sea you're on
or, lost, continue
 rum caught plain girl
you and your, ahem,
 saturnine years

we call you
Scientifica
baby

“So Lotion”

haunting the sky
little ghost in a shell
dayglo muesli girl walks by
you haven't had lunch in 5 or 6 days
the long worn shadow home
in a bracelet cup

morning got soaked in that gasoline smell
of a rigorous night
we're all on ourselves, that's life beyond time
glam of handrails follows me
down neonic moon
everything tastes like cardboard or piss
spaceport to sunrise we are all cheap
fries
the weatherman's phony so blame it on him
fry doom

flaxen product of her hair
takes you up
& you lift off
climate's gone crazy but nobody cares
totalize the unclimbed croon
of love
into sand zone
& moss

buses and borders sunk in from the rain
so lotion
asbestos cuddly toy
taking me out to dark clubs on the 9th
that a boy
dead hog cops patrolling the streets
so fashion
what a joy

“Calico Eyes”

She's time, hollow matter, lord's hair
cool written deaf December
her fingers played a recent cloud's
bass strings
bum-poets flat
fever accents

on sound islands jazz dub
she's one, eating eggs at
a.m. hemisphere
violin wave veil
she paints sun

shut up, paint sun on a
Mead
owe
or
men in a Mercedes, night nectar
wake war lies

river wakes up too long after moonset
churches
the first unfolded singer
rewriting her balcony's color

a little world (untranslatable, concealing) ran dashing
to peace s
lowly with Ulysses'
French laughter
another mountain down

superstore pensive moon
shines on consternation's ups
where Prozac birds mildly X-ray the earth
in dwarfed deservedness

uncle empty glass says sister,
hide your calico eyes;
light cascade,
pawn your last mistake.