Friday, February 20, 2004
a foggy string of little things... a line of johnny faces... dreaming jacks...

practice drowning over and over... everything comes to the waterhole...


if it doesn't matter... i'm busy so long my fingers crack

if it matters... i'm a long prophet in the moony hills of chalk

if it comes to your door... i'm bleeding at the mailbox

if it calls your name... i'm powerful in the right places


i'm saying this cricket nature goes underestimated

so the heavy street blushes... commences... a fete

wherein my dumb tango humors acetylene strife...

all our plans swill down tonight... we're a thin wing

along the coast... chirrups from the meadow's blue


more than strong tape... a complaint... a violent plea...

our insides are burning with complex ideas... come home

stick to the given script... these small moments... saturated

rest near the bottom after a long slow descent... rubbed off

like cheap labels... retail... uncertain... what it means


subtle inventories... precise and inviolate... rooms

for timing compassion... i wouldn't have asked

if you hadn't insisted
... buried... out of sight

lists of names for unlikely kids... hoped into thought


Thursday, February 19, 2004
where sparks sparking thrilled me... i glommed onto distance

and took it... we rode through jittery forests tangled syntax...

merrily... under a spell... our feudal genius reaching farther

oceans of bright liking... pushed us to the sand but no further


i was a sad miscreant... bubbling up virtue... from confusion's gut...

just be good... follow this golden thread... turn right here... believe


lately... the c.i.a. wanted... versions of trembling... candles

devoted to the mission... whose schizophrenia pardons all

paranoia... now we're getting historical political critical... gone


waking up... waking up is the hardest thing... getting there

and liking it... what did he say... when the walls got loud...

where are we seeing all these... enemies... and a white field

jiggling after the discovery of open eyes... hurry over here...


Wednesday, February 18, 2004
term paper flat white... waiting... an expression

of the way we expect ourselves to stand

in line for hours in line as placed by pencils...

rulers... put us there... term it a form we meant...

a cartridge for the day's explosions... spoken in order


harbors of rude timber... yards of burgundy silk...

an acre of philosophy... an ounce of articulation...

where of denotes... composed of... not containing...

suggests a jumble of possibilities... a fear of thinking


now the integer hits us... we're ready for anything

smaller than seven... teasing the yesterday out

of today... we've got little to say about the dance


Tuesday, February 17, 2004



mckinley avenue surgery... they're taking out the garbage... the fine air

surges toward a march in mundelein... we are happier than hungry deer

hoping toward some bloom... very whimsical of you... very sudden...


they were like... serious about its... i got like

graded... and they were like... a big lag... causing

a lot of problems... like... then he really said... wow


four of everything... red green and black grey... flat...

the night's going back to creation... are these bolts

of lightning or trees the center... center center center

is one day... none of us will ever forget... color it


Monday, February 16, 2004
a lyrical has a farcical entropy... fly out it says go on...

under something blue... all the good it takes with it...

wheezing fortunately... a breath after all is a breath...


no room for misery's black thumb... any fortune tells it simply

keep a foot on the road... i was staring at the back of my neck

when i found you... i was all green things... tumbling into crates

o you say it's impossible... but mine understands... mine do


Sunday, February 15, 2004
i was automatically stung... i was a renegade and fat

as a cloud is fat... you get three guesses... i was here

juggling intemperate phrases... gone... as any zombie

phoning in on the hour... stretching me... stretching in

for beauty... i knew its other name but couldn't say


as liking or refusing a distance... as firing home...

every word displays us inclined... to humble work

humming shadows... humid catastrophes we meant...

get out.. go on... get out before i throw you out...


what's been bruised or fastened carelessly... graceless ends

murdered in bed... every fifteen february... after love and

commercials for the next war... will grant us blighted smiles...

speaking aphorisms down to worm boys... another cold chance

for all these merciful privacies...we've come to count on... so


Saturday, February 14, 2004
suicide or television... everybody said it... everybody knew...

regards to the family... let me get these pants on right...

let us... understand compulsion... exaggerate a desperate

need to make... something with our funny finite fingers


you for valentine you... you you everywhere...

i made you from the pronoun... put you anywhere

you are my you you are my you you are my you... o baby you


for east i made a corridor... for west i took a comic book...

for north you earned my sincere remorse... for south the sun


yes i said of sky... but portraits had to go because

the reasons couldn't get it... going... all stuck in

a previous life... a little boy with books... too many...

and no likely prospects... this blank faced all around


fear as beauty tells it... that any trick plays us... well hearts

are made for pumping blood... this composition means we're

here... suddenly hulks in dry dock... or better blown far off...

single or touching white... touching white pictures of sky


martin's inappropriate buzzsaw plugged in... how every outlaw's

practical seclusion... rambles line to line... my complex minstrel

can be cured... just roar me out... roar me into freakytown...

useless on our shoe bottoms... but free for going... anywhere


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