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Friday, October 10, 2003 it's nothing... not broken... not
loose at the third spoke... not happy to see you... not happy to go... nothing on it's stomach... wanting nothing... playing nothing.. arranging nothing for the kids... it's nothing beside the duckpond... nothing in the furnace... it's nothing you haven't seen... it's not invisible or bent... not cordial... grim... just... it's not here now... and won't be later something
to be said for... doing and doing a thing... until it is done... or... until... light drifts down... voice booms gently... this is my beloved son... our cross-eyed gods were thinking something else... taken unaware... they whimper... we were busy... counting... give us one more chance... please Thursday, October 09, 2003 this noise... inside my line...
presumes a storm of gray spice... an air blown silly... far away... i'll remember the night we... ran blasted... or what the yellow bird said... tree slain... my heart my cough... a poor fool... nobody wants "poetry
so loose that you have to wear spandex under it" (rsm)...
or made yourself in the blinkered morning... i didn't know how slim... i was revolving in the box... poetry sent... a horde of northers at the windows... nothing meaning... but interfering and blasting... i was rocked... or slightly taken... i was hundreds of vicious verbs... and jiggling the coin of empire... worthless... i was slapping myself around all the silent pictures... and poetry flying in from every corner... using the winter for ice... hauling sundry bums out to the curb... enough for
the going... all of us said... it worked us into a fit... we fit there... and called it good enough... never slipping from the poem's page... all the standards... metaphorical... patient... two pages in hand... invisible climate news Wednesday, October 08, 2003 with the book in my hands... make
me eat partial vision... i was standing in a jeweled tub... make me fall and sink... everybody watching now... i'm coming over tonight with a big fat dictionary sandwich... and paper cuts my method
likes you... a splendid forgery and a cold intention... to blend figures... for dancing... girls on a bus bench... boys carving something in the floor... any flower... my method... has singled you out in photos
we're all the... undead... our age mangles the... if you could just see me in action... we wouldn't look so... corrupt... blind... bitter... any smile... i never smile... you have a beautiful smile... it's our blue reality... swooping down... was country
music... smart enough for the undoing... we wondered... when the knit began... if anything justified... such intensity... or a vinyl smile... or an open corridor up the side... rocks and dry grass... danced into a long morning... a day and an idea... liking a...
probability we considered... then... took our business home... we bought everything there... and welcomed it... liking it... into our common heart... i got it for you... i got this for you... Tuesday, October 07, 2003 fragment heard... like a... voice...
generously blue... and summer left us grinning... summer left us grinning like a... satisfied dog... an old one... been around the corner... all afternoon... next comes...
your interest in waste... a barrier... hundreds of books... a condition found only in jungles... then we clap... and clap... because your eyes have come uncrossed... variables... expand... and we find... ourselves... owning you... arrested in texas... happy inappropriately
poetic... he called me useless and... other things... but i jumped... threw a stone... call it my story... perversely strung... up... and flapping in the breeze... of a cough he's just
fooling around... very tough condition... the operation... comes up and juices... our hero... falls... always... and nobody said... or hoped... it came to us... that... he's just fooling around Monday, October 06, 2003 as an odd... in this... use... a frame... of bones... up in... ideas... or the air skin of... one... you... here it is... standing breath... as just... we... said it... this... like
a predisposition or an exceptionally long index finger... pointing through the fog... like... a monumental statue... noble enough and not splattered too much... or like... sun... this just accumulates... a few good days... Sunday, October 05, 2003 "...
as though they were a pack of trained hounds"... one thing up a tree... one thing by the creek... driven... certain... and remembering to cover my mouth when i cough... and getting enough fiber... toward the point... where we sit... now in the flame's good advice... one thing at last... for us all happily... knowing it... fresh bones and bloody good... points lightlorn...
a nuisance under benches and canvas... o dream of a version... where we flail fishy on the banks... of sky... a lunging around... past sensible worlds... in disarray a lot of
something... a brick... and or... imagination by the curb... paper and plastic... left or astonished... what you have done... beside what you have... how many of this... count them... stumble... count them now... so many of... a lot... of something... Saturday, October 04, 2003 mystery handy and germane... terminal
laughter... with goats... all of this lugged uphill... a sliver... a genuine piece of blue virtue... old knees... an understated freckle... remembered plain sayings...
heaped with rainy reason... poured over me... rolled down your... zinc ribs... and danced in a shuffle thing... gripping weather... risky numbers... tell me how you did it... when the mountains slid up through the stormy clouds of our frightful hoping... i wanted
that fish for myself... i slumped upright... carefully tested your intentions... you get the green snake...you get the cricket's wild grin... but i... get the fish... for myself... turned like
an explorer into a crafty... violence...
dropping down homeward... on knees or butts... sliding heavenward... a stricter lesson... complies with the times... all our arms stretched out... a dream stance... ready for the next demand back to finish your phrase currently  |
