Friday, June 04, 2004
if i stay my. thisness. takes over

healing time with. things. part

of an openness. staying brings

me around. to stone again.

being water under. the soil

heated. not a doomy. shimmer





complicates the room... quicker than books... a flood

of drumming... inside the walls... turn me into an idea

and i'll bark for a bone... listening home on the legs

of drumming... i'm finally all accounted for... no excess


piano means be quiet... be a stone in the street

be one cord hanging in the drafty window... be

quiet... a pencil left over... an envelope... be out

of time... where piano means hush it's late... be

a sore finger in a pocket... not so proud of it...

piano... taken for brush... a vine... a contradiction


without saying the pressure builds

without saying. the pressure builds

i told my wrath my wrath did end i

told it not my wrath did grow to rhyme

with foe. without saying. foe. the

pressure told my wrath. saying you

foe you foe my wrath did end. did end


Thursday, June 03, 2004
finish your hard candy. in a brain making it hard to figure.

we're hardly ready for car blindness. hardly tense as an atom.

but quiet enough for chocolate shakes. quiet. dangerous corners.

whatever came down. around. flags for instance or.

an oral exam. on this tremendous news hardly printed.

but understood by. the time we got home we knew. all.

this day was hardest. of all.


Wednesday, June 02, 2004
so collaborate.

tuesday sufficiently west. then an urgent reply.

so sorry to hear it. so bland in the rising.

tuesday stuffed like the king of science.

out walking and dragging. book tubs. sufficiently.


hides well.

originally fried. nervously posted.

finally cooed. my dumb bird. my underserved paunch.

never mind never. over against this pretense.

i'll pretend. it is happening on the back step.

ring it again. again.


hero stooping.

a good thing in the sudden crush. that these are

the only reasons for falling. a good bind.

and then you'll reason back to new products:

a cartoon, a silver blimp, an eagle spoon.

all of these hardy as the season's will.

all of these. pretty useful for a killing.


where little man... shoes are wet and shirt is ridiculous...

paying a politics of smellings... all burnt gardens... roses

for butter... tulips for... hurt hands full of inkish dawn...

little man breathing when... astronomy fails the day...

little man on an orange peel... little man going...

over!... cover!... lover!


did the terrorists steal... did anyone

leave the phone off the hook... can this be

done anymore... will my right hand heal...

isn't it time for a change... a right hook...

wouldn't i do it all... for you... i would...

which is... only my fair share of a day...


Tuesday, June 01, 2004
skinny scored line... put blue and red together

any more flags... put a tomato under a plum...

push real hard toward the center... any more

there's a heater in the sky... burning flags...

i was taught better... better than that... better

for a skinny ground-up flag... order chalk...


never my index... a testimony in clouds... an accurate count

sizzled about us like rain lines... enthused by my points

i forbade the going on... the going out to count...

all political in the scraps... carefully left over... alphabetically


strip of paper said after a while...

it's all bad fortune cookie... bad fortune

cookie slang
... as ripped sincerely

summed in the sunlight... strip of paper

said bad fortune cookie writer... help

us... injure the day... in your sunny way



Monday, May 31, 2004
didn't see anything today... ate too much with eyes closed

slept over gravel... put the carpet down through glass...

now floats in fat... or indulgent petty signs... wonder how

today went... your organization came too soon... but this

will string along for lunch... amazed in the wrong light...


where he said: Provision for a little

healthy rudeness, savage virtue, justification

of what one has in one's self, whatever it is,

is demanded. Negative qualities, even deficiencies,

would be a relief. Singleness and normal simplicity

and separation, amid this more and more complex,

more and more artificialized state of society--

how pensively we yearn for them!

how we would welcome their return!


which he said when he said it and when...


no one should do this there's no reason anyone

would care to... want to... need to pronounce

sentences through beaten gray fences... over

or over against these holes... nobody objects

when anyone does no harm but wastes a certain

portion of someone's share... and yet...


not satisfied he's hard to tell... i say he's given

as taken... northern portions as granted generously

forgive the southern ones... a villainous glance...

this trickle is ours: bought with stunned purposes

a brooding land buttered with large cities and sore

legs... poor sentences... industrious deputations...


rain and in between sun with birds...

pretending to be blackbirds robins...

redwing goldfinch sparrow... pretending

to be pomes in a second... a thunder

made us blue... with sun in sun...

all singers turning british... know this


Sunday, May 30, 2004
here... here's my grammar... my slow medicine...

a walk under the glutton... here an empty hush...

my fancy syntax... cold as the simple snake...

set for the shot that makes us all good enough


that story consents... and said softly

no justice in a clock... no eggs...

and... still... here...

a warped overture before the gong...

a sentence trapped swallow...

that story begs for an instant eventuality...

a thunderclap understood

and smaller


let's understand frames as they understand us...

it's just a matter a moment of sighting a line

where weeds grew... now a big tree wallows in wind

we're comprehended... not bitter... i was walking

and looking when the inside went blank for a moment

the edges tore me happily up... i counted... one

and on either side this stubborn one... no mirror

and enough not me to last a good while...and thought

frames as they understand us... let's understand


Saturday, May 29, 2004
i'm insinuating a thousand wheels and one cloud

come as a gear and crunching forward... like angels

in the kinesiology text... of that age... and smoking

light dollops of thrills... greasing the air with words


souther...

in the gray tune hear my flower...

winter...

or the slow bugs of memory... rising

for the camera...

melismatic lynch mob... hot

for us rational

diggers


my strong story goes like a skinny creek down the hollow...

and where it puddles all the blue frogs sing... far

from the willow grief... far from high brown sun... my desert

story comes like a kiss surprised by itself in the wind...

if you listen fast enough... listen quick... you'll understand

it's all romance and a question... in italics...


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