Friday, November 28, 2003
i am too asleepy... too blooming

i am too realizing and crafty...

beside the tall grasses... cooing

too sleepy and slept... over fins

i am going out... to pour stains

toward the dark sky... asleepy so


strings... and said walls... no one wall

actual... cool in the face... resisting

merriment... and said wall... gone

farther than strings... let out slowly

across my lawn... my web has errors

on purpose and stunned... to know

my purpose has... come and gone

in the cool night... cabinet... sparks


Thursday, November 27, 2003
where did the saying go... where did the words...

and your fault showing... a simple line... all you wanted...

all that ever mattered to anyone...


what tone... some regret... any sided...

you saw trees... i blinked and shivered


you can pretend this is something... you shouldn't say

anything... this is not your life... these rights end here...

and we're expecting great things... onions and fear


now losing something at a distance... i can still see you...

tops and bottoms... was it canasta... no casino... put all

the cards where they belong... i never really enjoyed...


i told her not to do... the dishes i told her... not

to expect what's in there... hinted... took a thousand

guesses... she'll save herself... a lot of trouble...

both in out and of the lounge... library... kitchen... eyes

and thumbs full of goo... for eating and throwing


Wednesday, November 26, 2003
geranium shirtsleeves majored in pouting... in outing...

jungle lines... trembling names... o Great Dionysus...

fetching blues... for your wild and sinful country

call us pencils... call us pierced and so...


what head says whirling... lighted... those voices in the hall...

never make enough sense... i'd circle around pretending to drive

one more... o... i'm walking around... down the stairs on purpose

when you call... there's a phone for voices... why not a phone for...


Tuesday, November 25, 2003
tired and hollow... we tried to connect our puzzlement

to the wind to the virtues to the genuine militia... we tried...

and posted extra letters... before they told us not to...

now our arms our eyes and ears yawn and celebrate

the day... we turned up flashing... riddles to the end


more than enough stew for all the kids... and we're happy as panthers


how many pizzas... should i order... would you dream it... please...

the game... your hard ball against a wall... a bright room slinks

across our lawn... what the wind says indoors... all versions of it


Monday, November 24, 2003
but put your gum out for the night... a cold jar normally...

and flinty particulars... all numbed up by sad uncles and flurries...

believe it yourself... and go chew... just go... chew


soon a buzz... from the next treeless hill... sends the soldiers home

to jesus... all their books empty ships now... candid clouds inching...


a drumming... under mother... ganges... spins the last circle...

knowing nothing... at last... in our strange red hats... shoeless

we pray for good... tipping drums against themselves... humans

with no metaphors... have to dance while the smoke goes up


Sunday, November 23, 2003
o but this enormous prophet... drizzles figures down the wall...

i'm counting... i'm counting now... and it looks good for us...

we've got dreams coming true... soldiers coming home...

a loose dollar under the fridge... his finger writes us

happily into good sense... published and decorated


before i go... a jump through barnyard tremors...

here the cockrel spans the black dog... a goose

controverts duck wisdom... before we forget...

breakfast was good... we shivered over eggs


Saturday, November 22, 2003
and if i forget you... this will be the sign of trying

to replace heat in the brain with... breath...

say this slowly and deliberately... count nothing...

say this with your fingers in your ears... a good dog

reasons with his nose... a virtuous pal...

with a tightly braided... secret... tune...


esta noche... pretty good when the wind comes...

all sandy fingers and toes... don't let go... we got

too many geometric tunes... too much spleen

in the diamond gates... esta noche... you and me


what yr doing down beggar way... tricks us into thinking

most conclusions blind us... everything going away

seems good enough for awhile... most days reason

from the beggar track... to the starry dynamo... we all

get a prize and a hearty hello... him in the odd hat...

him in the fast mile... she goes to fancy schools... i got

yr long lost headbook stuffed under my... smile


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