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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... back to finish your phrase currently  |