Friday, March 26, 2004
teaching me to bend... a narrow gully looms while

birds laugh at me bending into a virtuous chasm...

tenderly working out these enthusiasms... for light


a mass

of excuses

excuses...

far pigeons

library books

northern pike

bungee cord

it's all human to me... a human cigar box...

human eyeglass... human

pronoun... unspecified antecedent...

every one... once indefinite...

now eternally

metaphorically

returning


Thursday, March 25, 2004
this descent

into mannerism


proposes a next step...

(whose

homosexualities)

read... breathe... electricity...

some crazy dictionary

of public priorities...


we're lunatic

bulletin boards...

heads tack

tenable whims...

isolate ifs...


these

impatient

champs

of

luck...

grief


i'm reading under the pale green sheet... you ironed

every page and handed me the candle for my eyes

sizzling prophetical sunsets... smoking blue admonitions

shall these sheets live... in a rising... a fluent chorus


my heart stone o my heart

brings up the mental jaws

brings us copper-colored faith

o heart stone my heart

fills a new path of gongs

fills a goulash jamboree

drops the goodbye machine

drops it into stars

my heart stone heart


Wednesday, March 24, 2004
my sonnet yr sonnet... all been et by the Ancient Rite...

where's the apple pie... the first meeting of Bugspiel...

international take-out orders Placed... here... mr. Jones

will no longer solicit prose... we've been Supervised

into oblongevity... multiple Errors falling down round

my head and Yours... we're believed to be... Essential

to the national Plum... we're hearty in our disdain


ex nihil... nihil... with a latin jones

comes trouble from the stars... ubi sunt

an expressive puzzle... who ever talked like this?

my bottled... my itsybitsy... my locofoco... lovers


ripped and famous... accidentally torn

from the pages of wiley gnostic jazz...

look... since there's no one home...

let's bust out the windows... savage

the tenor sax... the crusty piano dream


Tuesday, March 23, 2004
string like mine a slow becoming a difference

i'm saying this to you because i am here now...

tomorrow i'll feel like a bruised fender...

a string of coincidents... what i felt when

you decided to die... my ropey system flew

i made myself a string of black pennies... i

fastened a story to grandmother's hush...

we'll call it the truth of how we feel... when

the grave opens for us... so jesus was feeling

nervous... a little sad... in the tomb before

the lights came on again... so i'm leaning

toward the sun of this collection... art's

result sir surrounds me in my signal corps

outfit... if i were a mad person you'd recognize

a pattern and the usual prescription... for blue


common as country tunes i've forgotten

where the chances made me stoney

a freedom in the random whistling grass

pieces of tin worked my heart waste

june feels like a nuisance now so low

a feathered memory how we began

to set night's sad elevation... back


monk's arsenic must have slipped the day

i was offering an imaginary shuffle... to thunder

we've got to get better work... habits... i mean

whatever version pleases stone stick gods

enough... that's my antidote surprise... a bottled

momentarily assured face... put it on... drink it down


Monday, March 22, 2004
no room for brilliance... shuttle back

to formula... an advancing contagion

licking the horizontal beam... you die

by points... all given in my estimation

or someone's... you cannot be brilliant

all this shining belongs... elsewhere...


she just figures the day will get better... something slides from the printer

and is collected... my own prose... my own prose... it is a blessing and a curse

for the little people who will never be written... and the pronouns arrive

to diminish our particular breath... with no mints at hand... resonant breakfast

scurries out to greet our animal nature... buttered by a bell that is no bell...


walking gets me nowhere... stingy flowers... and going up against death...

losing... nurses an important discovery coming... soon... a mythology exam

hero on prozac... we're zipping past the mooon... you're my brightest star


three days cut into circles... something left over... a hand

coming down... to a carpenter's floor... we're no longer

reading horoscopes... we're a test... and i'm a great musician

plucked... planed... voted... scuttled... bombed... approved


Sunday, March 21, 2004
here's the cat... an extension of our normalcy...

not talking her brains out like some crazy person...

careful around corners... beligerent around loud machines

i'm sleeping toward the cat's sensible white... theory


beyond the curve past the last tree... i'm allergic to visions

i'm allergic to that world... prescribed and proscribed... a flash

sincerely... all the words gone wormward... my shameful past

was a paralysis... and now an empty country road... for crying

mastered old time... now stuck in love with a judgement... a lock


Saturday, March 20, 2004
mine obscure for yours... blushing ripe pears... ready for yours

a talented dictionary meant me again... i'm fading like red ink

obscure as a pigeon fart... or a once after twice... nobody

wants to feel stupid... o damn me if i make you feel stupid

you are not you are not you are not... my bad... shadow


split from the start... it got worse at the sign-up...

attention sleepwalkers... when you wake... much sadness

no justification... show us your papers please... wonder

where girls and kites have gone... take another step slowly


where rivers go easily... there's me in the distance drumming

the trash... finally hysterical over minnow bait... casting out

toward the yellow reeds... guilty because i hadn't done some...

hadn't done enough... when the whole world wanted... more


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