Friday, March 05, 2004
boys had to turn it off... boys had to tape it up...


martyred material... turn my tack to good use

a flash of energetic paper kites... celibate origami

assembled in rain gutters... twisted tree lines

isn't this our greatest fear... these blue brides

these vertical brides... these subtle grooms

these yellow grooms... a lovely useful economy

fretting over all... cool zinc brow of a civil god


push my circus back... my wheels under sand... why

the big ring fuses... the bearded lady... sly dumbellina

in a wispy grey gown... markets and fleas... doctor

my wings... never a flyer been... kindling high wires


then said his arms were sore... with minutes... to fill


Thursday, March 04, 2004
no tools... an assembly requires breath...

pushes us through the door... complains

there are no women in here... any more

the signals mix us into laughter... forgotten

past teachers... set aside with the spiders...

just guess...just guess what it means to us


a conditional gravity sizzles me... i bubble on the morning skillet...

if i do then you do... or you go somewhere cooler... an orange will

resist this broken syntax... say let's be greedy today... let's finish

the epic... stop the nation in its tracks... halve the numbers...

each of them...
spitting... now spittering... sugared vittles...


some of this is just bad... bad...

where's the new stuffed owl when we need it...


Wednesday, March 03, 2004
o take a breath... o fit a motion to that name...

o like...

o the sun the hard answer the rasp of coffee on the tongue...

o

o step away step away from the car

o rest us far away

o gay subtraction from all our heavens

o rough quills in the clauses... rough bliss

o

o trimeter benches... o doctrine unstable

o chopper and o... pale solace... o given... o gone


wouldn't want people saying

things like your work signals

the effective decline of our neo-

suburban grotesque or your work

represents the radical contingency

of the sonorous runic tradition...

no... but of course they never

would they never would... say...


cut like a diamond... through air... seems a line

interests who wrote it... pulled anonymously thin

whole phrases from a common puddle... words lashed

to their blindness... see we found them... ordinary


the romantic assumption that i... that you...

the presumption of romanticism... my authority

completes its rounds... gets home to find you

tearing pages from books... screaming about

heterodox critical theories... pulling from the cat

one perfect hair at a time... let's get the boat

out on the lake... let's think up a deadly storm...


in blue the blur attacks

a pleasure taken home

kneaded into trees dogs

streets shops sun stars

these nothing generals

spoken... sunken... violent


naturally the poem is not a train

i took to find you... it's not here

you're at the far end of no line


Tuesday, March 02, 2004
hermit... he's a bundle

i'd forgot the perfect

word... never done it

so mixeduppedly... boy

backwards in singing

middles and bottles...

try it on yrself soon


elo-quance...

bound in hard matter...

all the tar can get you...

will it become us will it...

i'm just a... kid...

in a pencil-bomb... mine

troubles redound and settle...

a baroque buffalo squat...

saying i said i mean... too

while we can't... get over

spelling and... spelling


he teaches high school in an ambulance read backwards... bleeding

he teaches rumors alphabetically... puritanically...

his elbows all worn through to the bone from posing... this statue...

july comes in his dreams like an unexpected mirror... he spits

brown proverbs... collaborates with every whispered thing...

he spurns resolution... verisimilitude blisters his tongue...


some ran away... some walked... any brightness

or any time seemed... some were friends... shivered

in western rooms... never met again... some pretended

a higher calling... some walked a shoulder broad enough


Monday, March 01, 2004
not yet perpendicular but precious enough... i intend

a plaintive disgrace... i design a hungry traffic pattern...

for now i'm beluga i'm cormorant... in the government

you'll take me for granted... with mixed greens and reds...

i'm a fortunate peddler... i'm your truncated fiddleboy...

keep me off the thin blade... raise me up... cool windows


expecting a day here's the minute... the minute

here's the deal... put us off to the side... put us

next to the window... why... the streets are damp

the cars... irregular condensation... i'm here so...


Sunday, February 29, 2004
i'll have nothing to say about it... any day now...

once the bills come due... the hours depleted...

the chorus sent back to the bar... i'll stop this

wriggling from under the word book... an opinion

ground to a mad result... a halt... a breather...


enough of this seeing... i'm seeing you curdled

and corrugated by... the hours sent searching

like justice... like these terrible interceptions...

we'll have a talk... and stop seeing for a while


that inexpressible... scratches a window...

let it in or not... what solace... what encouragement

to keep it to oneself... hoary oaf...

dumb music just... bubbling up where one's self secret

rumors most sorely test the dance


a cold hopping for the queen's day

removes all the flags... as the king

proclaims a pity beneath the stars

whose knowing finally measures

us... we've been faces all morning

in our seeming's bright indifference


Saturday, February 28, 2004
my animal eating its animal

is the older story... i'm finished

eating my animal relaxing

in its own juices... i'm told

the collapse of empires

promotes a less manly...

version... of our oldest tale

we're planting fruit trees

waiting for the sun to warm

our innocent shoulders... so

useful in our simple doing...

all animals take a breath


heard in the music... a bargain and a threat... you'll cross me off

your list of winners if i promise to shut up... nevermind... today's got

trees in it... i'm on fire in the branches... well not on fire exactly...

talking into the blankets... into the cat's hot neck... understand

we've got more happening... more than god knows... complex

and confused... who only knows what's simple... as stone


clearly my irrelevance stood next to anyone's rises

clearly mine is a sacred one burnt vision of flux dung

rising you know like a string flaring airward invisible

my irrelevance catalyzes dream loss in winter life

calls no one out heroical here to the scruffy street


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