Friday, October 14, 2005
non non. you say.

form. and i'll fumble.

the singer said france.

it was a windy day.

for sausage. we had

pasta. blank and blue

in. oui oui. the cold

delights to whistle.

say france again.

you whistle. i'll

no. non. oui. yes.



always resisting the sentimental. sometimes

it's all you've got so you stand on a hill of

sour refusals. that when you die you get a

snapshot of yourself grinning detachment &

impediment for the last of your titanic files.

what music to accompany that premonition.

vehement clumsiness settles you in for good.



what was bad drug us down for all morning.

i set apart. i set myself. a part. of the art of

badness drugging us down for all afternoon.

some sinister burden. i'm coming over soon.



it must in a circle we've etched on the guess.

here these sounds repeat our harsh precursors

but we're happy to hear them round about now.

we're dogs in moon sheets of inflexible plastic.

but we still appreciate the nearness of wildflower

persistence. chunks of punchy determinisms sing

us. prophetic antiques. crutchy noises. potent oil.



Thursday, October 13, 2005
i don't know you might put signs

in color on your ink. then follow

them into a corner. think alone.

that thinking covers many faults.

warnings that smell funny. easy

feelings as opening a beer box. i

get your sudden removals.

blank where the window went on.



asking how far to lunch or the point.

finding the map in the crease.

leaving an acre for the shadows.

knowing you painted me just this far.



feels as one the pressure to

dress up. a benign beige tie

with subtle stripes. ears as

trimmed. as less pointy than

some. feels the call to be a

better one. surprising even.

a winner in a box of winners.

an autumn spring. it feels ok.



Wednesday, October 12, 2005
i conformed a certain way in this omission down lake street.

i looked out for practice functions moderate in loathsomeness.

i sought verity in the nineteenth century's winsome slaughter.

i lingering as an ogre. i on the trembling pillar.

i the endless war stuffed with kids who knew something.

i expansive as the lie. i bearing i.

i brush away all excessive parts to the alley.

i the vivid scene fading.

i dropping every single propensity. i toothless in granite news.



which ugliness fishes out of the bank.

then a cast of riches makes us runny.

then the night-panda known as david.

which from a box of boots seems most.

the pleasantest and the trimmest cad.

which read all together is a fire a why.



Tuesday, October 11, 2005
or i can do two or more

simultaneously. but you

would like me better in

one .............. not this

precious ............ ness.



affix the stamp. it hurts but just

for now. for sailing down to fine

sediment. we're gathering yours.

pieces of us in you. i'm also some

part of the great accident. loan

me your new neil young. we're a.

merely copied from a shifting soil.



Monday, October 10, 2005
as one jellyfish to the ocean. real language

is an easy drift. a baby in transit. swag in


the bag. here's the deal. you get sayings

all winter then the persecution complexity


kicks in yr subtle eternity. it hasn't been an

abortion. but to make art of it sucks anyway.


after hours you get an odd smell in yr hat

and call me to fix it. i'm austere and bend


farther back to old books i read in part be-

cause they looked good on the shelf. this


makes me smarter and enhances the free

shimmy in my patter. you get two for one.


a vaguely knowledgeable cluck. and a few

unperforated days cast away and indigent.


we all suffer unbiased and unresponsive as

the sky. but we look good in these puddles.



Sunday, October 09, 2005
diverse and unseen we first ask you to place

the box of remainders in a dry spot. we ask

you to picture us there with you. inside gilt

boards. the darker animals. we bring a light

you forgot to ask for. heroic as you consider

yourselves to be. without a candle. hardly

carries farther than the pond. still insects

approve. a faint in the slough. we're big

enough to catch you fold you in sweaters of.

us. the willing wailing. the strumpet specks.



Saturday, October 08, 2005
inside my harms standing entire as heaven.

comes an electrical willing angel.

nearer to the wall for walking toward god.

circular stations coming on with talking devils.

no reasons for the song i set in the nest of fire.

standing now up to hear the holy news.



house of dread america. this is art.

putting your candle down and follow a

misting channel. or sleep unhappy

sleeps all day. terrorize this for paint.

an exploding science will coming. inform

heaven to open many doors. instruct

children to cover pets and bring books.

a long journey coming like an explain

of heroic ones. in the night we will see

how far house of dread america goes

to carry new musics twisted in oldest

free. paints of indoors and outdoors freely.

this comes to blinding us. all over. truly.



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