Hour II by Ryan Daley

Ra god
not your later name: Herbert.
It doesn’t go with
the rulers’
food
if your peers banana
fana
Soleil moon frye
Ecto-plana
sweeps
across the puh-lane
doesn’t ever cross streams
[The mall’s there.]
Clean yourself of prozac
In the family sense hook, where
are you?

Thankfully, he’s using the magic
decoder spread on his sheet
getting down
Where should we go in the jeep?
Militia? [What will we put in it place?] (19)
A flower blocks the road (16)

Y la noche que tiene
sin escalas, acaso ya
era hora de preguntas

What is the glass modernist?
What have you done with my feet? (26)
You have Nike encased feet
I kid
[you vet dirt, brr, bask
in sunny deelite or freeze
my grog, I sluice
with your maw
junks] Ack! Angelsides

“Dogs howl at the dying hours” (17)
they once run from us

only in the burns do
worry about uncovered media
hurricanes

Who’s with the miner’s daughters?
How’s the box spring?
Holding? Eh?
Darn noggin

“A brutal painful grammar” (29)
moonwalking, you get me
wash up, remove the proof
left or right-
brained?

Liberation! And Che tees
betcha can’t blink
across the venial
not bothering the trash pick up
¡átame! banderas

Liberation! I buy
made by hand
Che T-shirts
bedazzled by
—King of the sequin!—
Regis Debray!