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Friday, December 03, 2004 in buggish certainties. in stead
of the terror we never fail to appreciate. put fingers spread apart. to represent sun's perverse enthusiasm. let me close upon her. and guitar the dangers to night. don't
worry about this. here the story puts me in mind of a georgian afternoon. given my life's portion. i will have a cold brewski or glass of wine. no colorful umbrellas in our hands but the trees. oaks. are dusky to our plain purposes. some bins might be empty. are those sheep on the horizon. or promises. Thursday, December 02, 2004 pouring silver. a doubter's pace.
in pieces. isn't it. about time's rubbing. i pushed a version. to blue fourths. ice plumes. as kindness. marks all choices. in pieces. when they
write my salve. tear a corner. chew. swallow. i'm in the middle of a swoon. busy as an actor. my own dead heat. as orders come down. inconsistent lines to time space. combing down the moments with you. Wednesday, December 01, 2004 i took color. to leave you running. most days carry sawdust. about wondering they knew. telescopes. brilliant monoscopy complicates any desert. so i took color. went to sit. quiet as a chair. frank sky of what you stole. running off. o believing
the sparker couldn't convince us. to take a left at cass. up the hill at western. we'd head downtown as a new parade. strangeness in plastic shoes. pointers in sweaty palms. it was the exercise we'd counted on. say we've finally come out from inside. turning. to be as if Tuesday, November 30, 2004 some in a flock like an ocean.
some kinder. and yet any practical barrier. any joy might consider ecstasy an extremity. still. here in the ocean we're meditative. bodies coming up as guesses. from grief or happiness. telling a tale. a fairly succinct account. of health. Monday, November 29, 2004 turns out i'm common. as breath.
so unremarkable and buttered. the doctors have a warning. i'm bad for cousins in d. c. i'm bad. as tangled cord is bad. jumping for regularity. pushing tiny pills. a glutton under poor.
broken. up me. i'm in the portfolio causing a ruckus for putting myself in the shoes of the description. later the girls come to find me tied to a prism. blaming lucidity and. cursing ink's bloody nuisance. tampered with. ideas and such. as long as
you. i persist. it's partial credit. for partial thinking. no credit for sore fingers. empty boxes. wait. any one can. see. you are not. try to paint the picture. they love all those crispy images. think a good one. forbear. the bits. aggravate a reader. and sunder. what mentality serves. write a clear. smart one. a Sunday, November 28, 2004 taken to write. what is it to.
write a imagination. if ears come down weeping. my brutal studies took me running. a dog in my barks. aligned with stark gladness to say. here i am god of kettle drum fingers. still as a image. nation. left behind on that first bright day. deaf to calling. inside a
bright hill. call it crete. or self understanding. thirty years go off for looking. return with a string of harsh notions. the world's such and such a pot of trouble. so i carved my initials on my shoesoles. you too. prevented an identical catastrophe. read slowly. Saturday, November 27, 2004 with fingers in mouth. all thought an eating. couldn't explain sitting hours for an idea. some nothing. is the part we understood. like love in the leftovers. commanded me to go straight. past. all the turns taken home to. mouth. pretty ones. nothing happened.
these are the words we took from it. formal. as cardboard this dusty room. sits. these the phrases sincerely performing expectations as puppets on each finger. sophie's goes laughing to hit jimmy's as. nothing happens. fitted regularly as if only. people on the stairs. coming in. i'm irregularly stumped. porcelain signs. in silent making. nothing happened to. listen. i haven't lost a thing. but you remember me in tongue. then so. back to finish your phrase currently  |