Friday, May 14, 2004
while spanish took us... shrinking away into bones...

(an embarassment to find this)

we're courting the dry office... more mexican

(an exceptional heritage)

than a reference to mountains we've never seen...

(a current exception... an individual debt)

cinder-broken stallions... expected soon... lariat

(compensation for the patriarchal dawn)

tough faces... sol in the cielo... i mean i'm ready

(a lesser-known variation... an entry)

the saddle... the night... the sweet guitar


since i did it all over it's been done all over

this feeling i did it all over and this feeling

i had a feeling and i did it i did it all over

and now it is done this feeling and done all over


Thursday, May 13, 2004
washed when undeserving... a perfect fissure in knowing

our tempers cut back... and forth... we sometimes go real

dry... there's a blown out tire... side of the road... music

for the real people starts a
... mournful bus... river body...

washed and taken... where the book sleeps... god goes


it was a cold... and then... the baby ducks shivered...

let's feed them the sins of our fathers... sinus

countdown: a chilling decay... within a (limiting) skull -

betrayal of an understanding... to fly where we go...

when we go it's always cold... when the air is on...

he actually said it... like that... as if you could...


Wednesday, May 12, 2004



minimal in our collection of 19th coping tools... my forest of pictures...

i took you in them... and listed the walls we'd need before night...

big wheels coming down... in a dogbone corset... careful as we were

our pants still caught in the chain... now it's all ruined...

we're wrecked... they've come for the machine... all our rats



not right but... i was never

so acceptable actually... kind

of odd... but kept my room clean

enough... smiled at the right

time... stayed quiet or put...



thank you i'll reconsider the dim light i set

down for a closer look and found thank you

thank you an earlier form of medical truth

now my brag is a luminous stain thank you

thank you now the communal kitchen rumbles

under this exhumed code illuminated thank you

thanks for seeming we are finally free to see


Tuesday, May 11, 2004
what what and what the use puts us out

turned like garden dirt... seeded nevers

but interested in what comes up... we're

still bundles still wary of the far clouds...

living under a light curse... imperfect fetish


only the corner of yr eye... off the red part

hardly anybody's business but here we are...

lining an old song... back from his blessed

arms, o lord
... lining and weaving and so

the notions... mark us... a plurality... a stem


Monday, May 10, 2004



you will get your turn at the wallowing shore

at the vernal delegation at the merciful tide

you will get your share of washing and drying

of pinching paper reasons of knowing anything

just another dusk... just one more for us all


knocked of a pointer... i'm the wild zeppelin

unless you want to be... then i'll be...

hoarse in the nile's green flux... or a plump vendor

of killer blues... dribbling like silver thread sewn

the ghost of my beard... knocked of a cornershow

still we might take some small pleasure... here


mur... der... laughing at me

your place is... cold but i'm

a hero of the camps... knees

and rural fists... salute

the dead the boots the light

grinning me... under canvas

all these orders sound alike


Sunday, May 09, 2004
maybe john ashbery sneezes or i sing out gesundheit anyway

these are special occasions for the newly minted students of

exceptional in their hearings but i'm drafted in a whirlwind

my poets made me chuckle and weep maybe they were

okay but i'm shallow in the deep end as somebody sings


i see chairman mao very small i see him in paper in silk

his company has gone under nobody listens or cares

what matters to him anymore i see chairman mao fat

as a dictionary but not breathing even in a gale he goes

very small and still rocklike in abundance and scarcity too


with us it's all trying... i put my fingers in the wall...

your scissors believe what the air always says...

here's the beginnning of love... a shoelace...

with us the edge comes... in hope... like urgent ants

dim quarrels nickel-plated thumbtacks... with us...

it's always lifting the concrete slab to see and guess





Saturday, May 08, 2004
kindness the wheels and youth the flour

of a question i might ask... here's a way out...

a line of gilt benches for a pigeon string... say

you needed a quick response but every turn

makes blood and blood and blood and blood...


why sorry when everything makes a dark green spot...

turn it over... here's a precedent for you... always look

at the corner around which something comes... good

news and bad... my acolytes will protest... any arrival

comes in a drizzle of participles... or other tiny verses


back to finish your phrase currently

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