Friday, July 02, 2004
arc as an error. following the wedding
we spotted a yellow train. arc in air.
vital every morning to rush. in or out.
kissing who needs one. spotted in mirror.
all these domestic. portions heaped.
complaints through the ceiling like a fiery planet.
there's a nest of pipes. grinding efervescence so
toggled and bolted i'm awake. isn't a daily curse
more than useful. more than a mammal can handle.
i'm an argument. in a freely appropriated space.
Thursday, July 01, 2004
just turning time. till the next major minute for poets
who've been. cornered or cast. imagine a dictionary open
to. molecule. the new music revolution in blind
wraps. just waiting actually. so we talk like. this chore
back with the goats unmilked. heard joy division
once more for an incident no one could foresee. sounded
like my heaven on stillness. back when we were modern.
none of my bleeding. none of it. newsworthy. i'm dust
for the tournament. tracked and hustled. mortal goose.
a vertical silence only poked for the festival of tin. tree.
as the swallow drew me. there i go. a tremendous.
when i try to place myself. this page just opens terribly.
there's no measure. i was a moment's monument. and you.
all edged in copper wire. a flood in our hearing. historical.
it's a good game of pretend. this making. up in feathers.
i can have the sky. or all its purposes. taken to book.
Wednesday, June 30, 2004
o don't it make you want to squeal... o don't it hurry home...
past all the smokin' borders past the furthest star... kaboom
o don't it make you want to shout for all the stoney organism
played like a woodwind... or critical of me in moderation
these pleasant tumors... dervish time... wall me...
haven't you ever punned a feather... a gas station...
no... not in my wallet but past the lake country... there
Tuesday, June 29, 2004
get these ghosts out a my salad... isn't hurting
no one but newcomers... not ready so much as done
our pants hurried outside without us... cussing the loss...
we shivered in the glow of a hearty new... ectoplasm
what was a sturgeon in the rocks. no. an element.
molybdenum. made mine mutter. elementary. water.
was a ground swell in my fortunate brain. complete
in the fly-speck cantina where julio plucks. a sonnet.
marred in the offing by a cold wing. so stumbling in air.
as a long fish tugs. as a pointed call hoots. in a din.
Monday, June 28, 2004
a carnal justice right where the first violin swoops
the seventh time around... there in the hesitation
i'm an inorganic portfolio seeming to be... another
timer jingles me down to fortune... all's a ball stopped
here in the sunny moment... conditional merchandise
if you have to pee you might as well write
we all expect your coming out to astonish
any time to appear and make it known where
it may equal self, hand, a feeling, the past
or a similar ploy apparent to the dullest eye
as in peeing and writing the sun also expects
an answer or becomes a gilded fact to note
where only here when only now a circus comes
when and where there are no more circuses but
novel pleasures poetic strangeness one breath
leads to the next choice or sleep so you
have posted a standard for writing and peeing
a theory of knots over the day's bright sand
to congratulate the wind or shadows in work
where work may equal that which does not burn
or sweat or drive or speak a useful aphorism
but moist enough for fungus to come out fully
itself where itself may equal a stain, a threat,
or surrender enough to have become a fact to us
Sunday, June 27, 2004
my nest. my next impression wasn't going
so well & flights of ravens understood. so
bear me down to the caves the ditch. i'm
unexpected and an arrival then flourescent
my nest presented a resolution. we crow.
art sending you a happy death. human. on time.
packed in jingly bells. our season never knows
why he leans so terribly outward. wind-wrenched
on the mainmast. i'm a lousy painter but i care.
scowl. flora. impertinence. whirling. history.
secrets make you deliberate... dull in splinters
merciful under a cloud... and deliberately punctual...
as if interest came with a bloody edge... you'd cut
a bit off our gaze and feed the animals... wanting
turns the lights off... money doesn't grow on trees
Saturday, June 26, 2004
if i'm limping so
it's because i'd
any way out
looking blue &
green or yellow
all aches in the
i larded it so good. i belindered a song
following the operations. and removed to
a cool room. song-festered. where you said
this commutes yr angel to north africa shores
i believed you. had an orange in my left hand.
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