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