Friday, February 06, 2004
mashed while singing... balanced on a wire... i was metallic...

electricity slivered me whole... and you in the garden

stumped toward the next spudhole... dirty you like a tuber

pleasing a month of rain... sprouts from a loggy tongue


the story took a yellow turn... it demonstrated itself

pulling children past their parents... flowers pulsed

from their heels in the dust... a goat came too... but

no one cares for goats anymore... the story insisted

on film rights... for the sake of the children... whose

arms are now sore... prize juries convene... prizes...


Thursday, February 05, 2004
if i waited for the precious angel i'd never get around to eating...

so... you don't see bulging veins in the forehead... dripples

of sweat over pressed vegetable matter... these ashes

assert a motion... or wind pleasure... blown tires


this pagan display... verifies hope... as in

saying you're going out... when in fact...

you're lost in a book... my amnesia suffers


teaching never learns the urges utter...

blinking junior... noises... action figures

smell us... becoming a better someone

we stopped teaching learning and studied

blinking senior... as ancestors itching...

every fashion teething on us... we're sold


where did you bury it... here... in the light...

we're looking for any reflection... before heat

proves us terrible... we buried it... here...

so all eyes would know us... small... inexpensive


Wednesday, February 04, 2004
a less than thorough understanding... strips us naked...

a dream on the tiber... these are classical concerns...

your pillars... my arches... and still we find nothing

to say in this heat... our consistent hearts supposing


just your three ones... not your fives...

kinder than us now we've got a handler... only

the chain keeps tripping us... that's the point

and a good one it is... i don't know what

you're talking about... but i detest it... your...



here hand me the river... i'm not frowning backwards...

these tremors have conditioned... a blank response...

i'm forgetting my minnows... crawfish believe in me...

the hook... stipples a deep dawn down there...

i'll bite... the question was... delicious


Tuesday, February 03, 2004
put me there and still don't understand putting...

flipping a reason to the damp side... you liked me

then i meant drowning... i stood for it... even

subscribed to the heroics... the boat came soon...

i'm a list of losing... a treason in tight underwear...

your understanding put me... outside in maybe

where i longed for a terrible dizziness... you said


in the service of a larger truth... or dinner

or the blood bank... wrestling gets you fuzzy...

these arms never... these arches flowing over

us... my idea makes it okay... an engine wed


nearly there... didn't i say i'd take you with me...

and now these mountains loom like definitions

over us... we look happy now... and everything

composes... a red orchestra... a yellowy grey


our stories nothing and... the smallest light

going out... all in a rush of words we thought

meant... here we are saying the world... now

look at us... shivering wet... a remote version

of the green world... insisting on... salvation


Monday, February 02, 2004
zero absolute... still threshhold offers time

to eat something for the trip... i took a bite...

walked down any street... found myself here good

and wickedly fated... if you care to count

i'll play guitar while you count... strum...

how the words come out one after the other


so tiny in the day... all sentiment wished out

freely blue... so tiny... too self-important to last...

this quarrel underpaints our faces... both small

and glassy by now... quarters and dimes...


tell us a story we're dark... our pages

have been folded and been folded...

we didn't miss you... until we missed

your stories... pointless days and weeks

made us mean without... your breath


Sunday, February 01, 2004
italian ease... in a rested villain's hoop...

some circus poster video war... a goner...

the lost one's hat... sorry for an unction,

blessed one... freely drowsing... freely browsing

a shelf... of chinese stallions... cornered

by the all-mart... and arrested as we chopped

partly snoozing rummy sacks... don't say it...

yes we did whatever they forbid... eminent

in our provident dialogue... cruel and italian


dams are failing... our huddling walls... so

we meant denser things... poured them into burlap...

stood them up... nice lumpy dolls... can you conceive...

what it cost... what we meant... a brace of dull bags

wiggling under water... pressure... you came to find us

choking... eyes sprung back... as in angel light... cold


Saturday, January 31, 2004
or how corrupt of us to go on slanted

verses like hunger knows everything

tripped and fond of rivers and pages

of still having some fun when our time

runs down because our bloody time still

goes on like a bad girl doing what feels

just right at the moment driving blind

drunk on poetry finally clouding every

bleak vein we pulled ourselves up to

gape from the sinful word the book of i


now...

in fact it rattles

roofside down...

argues for winter...

this truth... no place...

like this place...

suddenly i'm

spinning...


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