Friday, January 30, 2004
why so shattering... diamond breath... rock star...

you lost me... after the heart attack fashion war...

unusual in that it contains a rigid manuscript

winter's kept woman... and obviously we've slipped

into different bodies... stray natures... blind values rule


ice cold and feeling the love... formative notions

bundled round patches... of blinking... blue plagues...

all the big sickness is yet to come... yet to come...

breathing out a conditional pattern... i give to you


i bent the carvers my way... i meant the warners...

o... have you seen milly... a scutter in the tiny room

say off to the fence... we'd dance our way... sundry

shakes... a whine in the wind... i bent the waivers

yr way... and look what comes back... a wiggle... a


Thursday, January 29, 2004
Friday's soup will be Vegetable Beef... alone

and with others... buckling down for the big show...

because Friday's soup will be Vegetable Beef!!! an icing

on the cake of our calendar... called a certainty...

a moment of Brahma... another listless dichotomy...

down on the street they're writing tickets... whistling

at girls... driving taxis... smoking... and dreaming of soup


too close to normal... like pretending to gag...

a difficult procession of solemnities... a dictionary

over the edge... reviving itself for the evening chant...

go here and go here then go here and go here...


pick up yr feet... you scraping them down the hall...

tripping on yr laces... pick up yr feet... while we read

yr morose pomes... you one of those dark kids...

sadder or madder... carving a zero on every nail...

we don't get it... you know we like it when you smile


now it's a hole... we like to imagine

a shape once someone shuts the door...

but this thought... eats its own tail...

always hoping the soup lady smiles...

knowing she never will...


Wednesday, January 28, 2004
when the wonderful machine goes down to the sea...

that's when i'm reading you... every comma of yr dance...

a real go-getter... a small tale of travail... lavish in a cozy place

when the machine's assumptions make fins of us... ghostly ushers


a tone in the air... pretends to be music... modern energy...

hurry... the reasons... fall down all over our meat...

we're so far away from yesterday... in a science fiction village...

staring with a customized generosity... at the brittle landfill...

now we're singing along... it whirs overhead... finding the words


so few words to induce... a mortgage on the moment...

it's worth a good laugh... we're toppling hookahs...

drowning terrible portraits in the kitchen... mine goes

wishing down the disposal... bits and smaller bits of me


Tuesday, January 27, 2004
voice there... but no body... anywhere... and yet...

the edges of something brighten... this could not be

random... you meant we had to see... the bruises

expanding... any hemophilia surrounds our saying


it's the new building... the new science... that keeps

us from... what you need... you don't need it now...

our edges have become vast plains... see us

on horseback... some on foot... the dust will do us...

the dust and the thought... a clean place up ahead...


brown through white... then a field of mourning

because the day revives... and a light whoosh

leans in... still... we call ourselves the fingers and toes

of certainty... pulling wisdom from the actual soil


Monday, January 26, 2004
no pulse... no theory...


hey if you listen... dramatically... the double king sighs

you guys need more logic... you can't fool a single...

can't fool a pit of wailers oogling... spinning home...

sopranic from the show... what do they dream after kubrick...

when the wire has to say... privilege... dark dark dark


next train seven thirty-two... a dose of trembling doubles

us... fourteen now... and pressed for space and breath...

we ordain originals... compose through wormy day...

like cats blushing... genitals conscious of eternity


what were those flutes thinking... near the end...

her... disease... had finally reduced all desire

to its only reading... possible in low light...

nothing for it but to scratch some tiny violins


nervous and contagious... here's the deal...

you pretend to be pretending... then i'll

pretend to be nervous and contagious


suddenly stopped... like violins mid-flight...

these jarring ascensions... truly blown

over city roofs... not used to heaven...

stop here this is a good place...

so i marked it... looked up... stuck


Sunday, January 25, 2004



nobody says this... it keeps coming around until

somebody says it... then it goes... just anywhere

some days nobody knocks... plenty of room

for the light to shine in between yr toes...

making magic... comes every third tuesday

in circles i swear... looks like the nation on fire


of careful thought... a helping of... understated

heroics when we need them... testing the ice

in consideration of a body's necessary... 98.5

or is that the cat... volumes and virtues...

our underwear is permanently... one degree

past tolerable... just stepping out for a smoke


Saturday, January 24, 2004
the popular song is in trouble again... with a side of fries

in motion down a dim flourescence... is this what williams meant

by the white daisy... probably not... but the popular song

is still in trouble... without us... the next bus leaves in an hour


make me some... made of an engine... a ferocious sentinal

cooing and coughing... make me red and grey... a borrowed

placeholder... some force not nature... handing out coupons...

thin paper screeches... down in the guts of the machine...

and i'll make you some... feathered and taught... some eyes


a scumbled roadside rips my heart... or...

no... no true feeling...

sputters like the plow tearing an edge... fingers

dirty from the machine... keep to your own lane...

an inauthentic stutter... a glance... no truth in it


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