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Friday, April 30, 2004 next to umber a seated portrait
i'm winking... any new math makes us nervous... still... there's this click like the ocean warming up... for a good patron... a patriot in the shower knows the tune... whom and what is served by nuisance... how much
for the parade a single one... a known trumpet blown for the kids... how much for the morning... a robin scuttled... hero-minded or slanted into... a rack of possibility Thursday, April 29, 2004 if i didn't do it... every day...
the strings and horns gone white... the charts dry up and burn like breath... if i didn't do it every day piano teeth gone gray... my history deserves a doing every day despite the clock the mail the blues... my history gone to book more language
than coin... i was saying everything nicely never complaining... each finger was a tongue or an elbow... but my truly dark lies abound in back rooms... word-fogged windows... papers the damp floor... pennies and... toes... stand up
for draining the world... starting with words... then draining the light the stone the pine oak maple... stand up for a dry time... put away color... flushed to vapors... o give up... o laces lips... o farther of us all... a missing game mine for you hiding in plain sight... mine for a thousand clocks which brow...
a thunder from the pit and a squeak... which brow studded... which bent like a worn machete stood for how hard we tried... a brow listening to npr... a brow in the center of the universe... which took all grants all gifts all... indulgences... and painted them red on a theme from tolstoy... in akhmatova's basement... day asks...
what the shoe says... any mystery... here's the jab... day wants me... original and ordinary called Room for Sense... i saw you Still in the flashing Wednesday, April 28, 2004 my thought clumbers... a loose
board for a splint... which music merely held stunning in this shirt... thinks a glue then reasons... o strumming nicely polite and... quiet as a pronoun... storm surge...
and blind as a porcelain cup... mine justifies yours... and corners merge... my useful hungers... your legal edge... provides such guidance in the text... we're useful as dawn... as needed... storm surge... patterns in riddling... wind wind... blanket wind... in blanket wind... of blanket wind... or blanket wind... so blanket wind... as blanket wind... and blanket wind... blanket whose bagel
hums a madrigal... mister... big opera guy... slide the cream cheese over here... the morning's dubious... lucid in plastic... whose cell phone... goes to the library... and weeps... Tuesday, April 27, 2004 howlin' in whitey county...
approximately... strange enough for the talk... we believed the cable reached so far... to the moon... listened... for the broken guess... a sordid explosion... mad for us... illiopolis hollers 'cross the line... hey... it's hell over here he buys a
house... a castle on the back of a truck... the ad campaign... the one where they go to vegas resembled... words on the screen... we were saying the best america... a journal of virile abundance... Monday, April 26, 2004 technically one penetrates the
other... like a wall across germany... how many fallen gods go up... when i play this tune... my ugly arches praise modernity... here we come stand up stand down for improvement... a new solitude without between
the floor and my step over it... a diamond between the grill and its smoke... a pencil already something rots... a hole in the form bleeds intention... i scrape yr slobber from my shoe... mine freaking
urgent and told me it's lost... it's lost... and freaking urgent to find... will i finally call in sick... loaned to the barrier cops for a weekend... i'm ionic in the mix... i'm vetted and verified... checked up the spiral stack of time... my embarassment ... my indiscretion a wild bird... lost in frantic chimneys Sunday, April 25, 2004 only there's no answer... it was
no cuss... just missing a motion... year by year... grease in the gutters... all a binge... a nightriden joint for homing... pigeons all quickly climbing
to the number once position... look at this feet... my inches turned over blue... and sold behind the president here we go... collected nine of the last forty bottles... standing in my own pasture posted for
the march past your green house only here we're begging you... come posing pope-like and serious for... we lack a certain sobriety... as the eye of a skull from which one red dahlia purrs... silly in a low light... but necessary and here which doctor
snuffled a long stream... becomes himself in the privet hedge... looking otherwise but knowing self strides... approves a nose of such... moment... which doctor creates a voracious cure... we're drones of all good humors now... chi for the masses... Saturday, April 24, 2004 course it's unusually whistling
now that you've come... back toward the circle... i was halting in the drafted air... i mentioned a scullery-maid in melville i think... you said here she comes brandishing a spanner... and a cup... i remember with disgust we taught the pigeons... nightly sure i was
allegiant... counting on the elephant... the swing... my incorporate surface looms... gleaming like wire in the sun... match me under the bridge... with rushes and hurries home... i'm a glide down the slide of... instances and parts uncounted where's more
in the thin cities than greening... a long haul measures me and complains that i'm not... the author gouged from the mountainside... a good man but a mummy in the tight spots... i married and forgot about it... asleep then just dreaming... here we come with all the other acrobats back to finish your phrase currently  |