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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 back to finish your phrase currently 
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