Friday, November 26, 2004
my martyrs as geese. flopping in the yard.

put me in their place. stuffed in all propriety.

i was reading an obscure book. it put me

thickly down the gutter. i was rushing in

and out for rain. and flying. a good jewish

boy. i dreamed i was. hatching and hooting

a garden's worth. dreamed a store a fire.

refusing to put my money down. stoned

by children at the service desk. returns.


Wednesday, November 24, 2004
on it as. from a private book. or swampy guess.

on it as organdy wishes in port for a storm. in

local bellies in zoos. we're fine on it as. oafs.


Tuesday, November 23, 2004
a jar. this holds madness. back.

i'm the ritual cupboard. legs and

arms. insupportable dance of is.

come round again. honey. come.


this couple stands for traffic. in a gloom

i'm scratching yr name. in a stone. calling

you sylvester. for the quick transport of

bugs. opening and decomposing loss. i'm

my own approaching. my own as past water.


this big rock is a lamp unto. dark

like a clump a cave lights night.

a shudder sounds me out a god.

finally in yr red dogma i can see

our ridiculous solidity. a moon in

mud. catch me turning back as a


Monday, November 22, 2004
maybe. if you say it. uncles have it.

wind as deep. in my regular shoes.

three brown inches. then a leap.

a part. in the middle of the store.

something flew apart. was a tree.


Sunday, November 21, 2004
an incoherence of vowels. and consonants gets me going.

tell me aardvarks laking juices. stuffers and pokes. you get

used to flinging wallward. sympathetics. but i'm a rowing

out past the farthers. where you'll find us kiss us. no bet.


i'm purling. and overt

as a door comes. up

the next winter's so

blue for us. teach it

to wish. on my news.

i'm telling you plain

true things. showing


far as speaking goes you. heard me fall

to silences. unnatural. not uncommon. i

wasn't around when you said. my book

is coming out in the spring. you'll see its

dear bulge and want a copy. but there's

only one. i said it out. over again. as free


Saturday, November 20, 2004
my ancedote comes in any number of words. you might like

this rolling syntax, no. you might approve it with stamps of

gold. here comes my anecdote. it's not a bitter one kind of

sweet actually if you read it slowly. am i making sense now.

here i am with lightning. here i am rearranging coyotes at

dawn. here comes the next set of papers. there she goes.

i'm a rift in any moment. put me here. something starts to


asking is a usefullness. pulls it from

the bottoms we meant. that's a hard

corridor. scuttled as all good. ships.

way down in. the lightlorn seeming.


do mourning. lost uses. believing in saints

breaks the connection. when i was listening

so hard. do banners of calendar smirks. far

gone. sour blue tanks of monthly. doing it.

on the red track we misremembered as america.


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