false refugee mia crumbled ghetto packs suitcase to ak-47 tune in vagabond panties leaking spunk upon ossified ancestors but with the few things she keeps, a plastic idol,

a shitty painting of horizon and hiroshima trees by her once free poppa, makeshift tampons all in tow to the beach, the last boat has sailed, sand sinking into shoes of dead soldier rags, black hole eyed mia not crying at all in the gun powder stench of a cooling liquid barrel/

they fucked last night proper and it’s molded coffee grounds she brews for dean not awoke till water droplets flicked in his face, barely aware who, don’t think he can hear anymore, walks to the kitchen table and sniffs his cup, she’s in kneehigh boots and nothing else smoking cigarettes by the cobwebbed window, dean gets up without tasting, slams the front door in a rush to catch the trolley, catch a job, bum a smoke off anybody but her, he sweats up a hard recession ten on his favorite street corner selling goofballs, brings home wine and smokes, the door is locked, he rings, dean hears moaning carnal, opens the bottle and walks back down the yellow line from whence he did come/

gambling dallas boy with a wife and child somewhere sunk into an old straightedge buddy’s couch thinking about the last five buckers sewed into his busted left boot, he rummages politely for booze, for valuable silverware, for anything saleable and, if not, memorable, but hungover wee sun was told and certain so he holds his radiation burnt ear up to his buddy’s door, hear the smack smack of masturbation with premier lotion, country boy sits hisself back upon the couch armed with barbs of fast food restaurant knives he found in the trash bin, dallas boy gets a hard-on and rolls up his sleeves, he jerks a scabbed cock to crude oasis flicker’d heat images of a fattened ankle lifted into a rainstorm, lifted and stockingless as she kisses her hobo husband/

wide hipped angelina sweeps dust off the planks, hammers down rusted nails here and there, give old hermit woman emaciated up in the hills a beckoning tap upon her triangle chime, oh boy don’t matter if them boys is all wardead, but that’s just men, can’t keep going on, just as well get fat in wintertime no matter how many malnourished abortions, get muscle taut starving in spring no matter wheat growing thick, breast milk fountaining, grinning at clouds amassing quick supple, aplenty, so tidy angelina strips of tattered, dusted sundress, places a big pot of rabbit stew in front of her easy chair, pussy lip handles a ladle, carrots, meat, potatoes steaming in watery broth for her toothless kitten coming down into the valley for her own sake, for to purr and lick a beggar of motherearth healthy slit, horse clatters up the road, angelina nearly comes in anticipation but her retarded, split lipped brother hissing out bucktooth malice swing open her door, he’s got two new black eyes, ladle drops splash messy into the stew’d bowl, angelina blows out ambience cheap flaming wax, covers herself and fetches a cold bucket of water from the creek/

I am celluloid life with tassles spinning upon hairy nipples, I drink too much, I make choices considering none, I am leaning o’er a poker table not understanding the rules, I bet on the come line always, I touched a wolf’s snout and felt hard anger, I haven’t seen a baby girl or boy in a whole year, I fucked a clown named liliana in a city park, she was banished from arkansas, I drove a christian whore to her destination in a t-model, I went into the city with a pack of rolled tobacco and didn’t hear anything, I have become bored with oceans, the last time I checked marquees I don’t know where I’ve been, what I’ll do, then again, I saw a hermaphrodite froze’d buddha squatting atop mount everest with a flake of a tombstone up the arse, a severed guerrillas hand on the cock, I forgot to tap my heels, I’m from adromeda’s constellation, I forged a sharp sword and tried for civilization, hoped for castration/

singing guns bullets moving in swift grass clippings lawnmowed into asphalt, triggerfingers yawning the bloodshed reconcile, don’t hear the metal clink boom and whiz afore yer dead, mayhap the whiz tho but it’s nonchalant, spastic, razed city of uneasy wind now brimming malicious people oozied and sauntering about avenues gaslamp lit seeking another round of satiation, burlesque bitch in town, cigarette tinctured gloria yank tight a starlet’s wig, junkie jones polishing her wrinkled worn face marble cake, liberal goes he with the rouge, flapper gloria dangles petite legs off boulevard bridge plucks greasy peacock feather out the mouth of a cannibal swan herculean swimming underneath with her expert pretty toes, politicians packed up their slaves and money, ditched town and set up tents and fat fired up baked beans on the outskirts, junkie jones give her a ponytail, she slips the feather into the knot, aluminum ringed gloria waves enough haughtily, junkie jones fidgets, sprints jaunty into town for to strike up the band, jeengus kawn and his brother che scruffing conquistador beards in syphilis muff distracted, the orchestra’s warming up, wafting discordant upon the deadened air, the cars all cease splunkering, dogs startle, stop pissing up grey hydrants, they wince, afraid to yelp, gorgeous gloria bends unlady lacing up her boots, acid rain coming in sultry and reserved, junkie jones raping the droop eyed pert titted 14 year old ukulele picker in the pit during the warm-up adagio, nobody notices, can’t see no sun going dawn, waves is frozen to the bootleg shore, politicians greet bankers, businessmen, carpetbaggers and the president in their smoky shantytown, they bow obscene, serve up rancid corn raw, cold, all teeth strengthen, president say fuck fluoride, bride to black, hell to white gloria fishes out a smoke from powdered bosom, lips it seductive, straightens out her mothed purple robes, bandits lay aside they pistols, moonshined whores keep they minges bushy rippled in storefront displays, junkie jones stashes his pecker, ukulele girl face paints herself with vaginal ruby, runs off with broken strings, symphony’s taking to the street, she kicks the band leader in the nuts, steals his baton and leads nude quiver knee stern browed them all solemn wondering aimless till the signal doth come, loser hobo out the bar nearly stumbles into steel windchimes, hobble wobbles to his flimsy zeppelin, he drops his rubber cane into the gutter, junkie jones mouths hot dawg, scoops it up, helps himself standing, flagrant gloria sulphur strikes match, lights up her smoke and tosses splutter flame into sewage river, bends flamboyant her wrist wagging ass hip into the city, aflamed pigeon crashes into downtown bricks and fizzles, drums kick up rolling heads, cavalry horses starved, bloated breathless two towns down, green faced citizens close yellow rosed burgundy drapes, draw baths and douche, the orchestra got lost, wondered into wastelands and were all scalped neatly, struck dumb, instruments melted into knock-off atomic brainchildren, crass gloria blush running thick off her chin, beauty the streets viscous moon colour, she sneezes out the last drag of her smoke, bandits and whores hightailed it, the town crying flames into the neon red sky, gloria plops down on an ashed curb, rests her tidy head upon her knees and sighs/

Bio:

Kenneth Mulvey doesn't really like to write bios.  He usually gets other people to do it.  Sometimes he'll say something like, "Kenneth Mulvey writes, or he's been around or something lame like that."