Friday, December 24, 2004
swimming the north side. nasty stuff. he came to the states

in a trunk. hiding the hitler bomb in his trunks. they traced

a slim one back to the netherlands. now in black churches

the singing reaches up to a better land. hanging post haste

like christmas lights. my path is brighter. in the lake sun.


my zero. yrs truly counterfeit.

put on the five o'clock misery.

but this myth of presence comes

vertical. a swamp of yeses. sign

of terminal ifness. sticks and

stories. gilt-edged. lit ever.


Wednesday, December 22, 2004
which opens to day while we ride in the back.

or sound. a vertical drum from the pond wished

me well. the trip took us through vermont. city.

photocopies of an orchard. snow. snow. breeze

in the back. rumpled. which everyone knows as.


Tuesday, December 21, 2004
coffee forgiven. chocolate sunshoes. as breaks in the humming

reminds me of the time the archduke broke. a brittle fool and.

heroically darkening first tricked me. then he coughed russian.

with no financial incentive we're toddlers. say me again papa.


the haste of the seen. a decision to call it

or anything nearby a particular duck. no time

for singing. that's a ringing in our ear. the blur

synaptic. understood as we who are standing

compel a yes. from the days. the lockers click.


Monday, December 20, 2004
hark. a ukele's condensation. warps all my sentimentals.

you too come. evocative in the roasted languor of noon.

was it the cowboy song that rhymed so. cruelly. fenced.


life with my attractive wife. young. son.

scuttled hopes for a quick resolution.

i took it on the lam. buried my sofa deep.

wintered in old books on cardboard sleep.


Sunday, December 19, 2004
o. was i talking

about circles.

they recognized

me as the old

woman i was.

and the urns

i carried to cups.

for votes i said

come again. be

an american fence.

be windows. be

round and last

more. cloistered.

they plot an

apology. i take.

affection. so


scratch my tin ear. the text reveals. he

never could dance.
this ethnic boogie

makes me possible decade after century.

ornamental gardens. coughing elms. he's

rougher with the children than. the mosh.


Saturday, December 18, 2004
complexity. here on the beanstalk.

talk we do. but the weather comes.

come. say yr happy i'm here. i'm happy.

happens the cathedral's empty. but

button-sized legumes drizzle down the

theoretical buttress below. so tiny our

orderly calls us down. to stuff bernini's


can say because. all 1,500 inhabitants build.

all 26 masterworks massage. all 103 languages.

into a house of plaster. my freedom. what is

that smell. that recovery from illness. that

say formal invention. drawn out to a surly us.

mustn't be stainy glass. mustn't be modernish

sequences of americar. protected because. first

they don't exist. then they come. uncomforting

as beautifully built fun. with a virtual result. i


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