Friday, May 06, 2005
wizened and tardy among wooden cats or figures

as wood worded in cats none can claim a musical

vision so terribly fit as the sun sees itself now.

hard shadowed. lightly rounded or a cello might.

none turn to remembering love (as equal to) sight

then sound and the others. none deny books of it.


poured into my digging. my massed inventive.

about the time i became recognizable in depth.

all a handful of minutes in complex gardens as

if i were the spade and farther down the work.

then. then i cut in favor of the century. all new.

belted and terrific in easy blues. simply sloppy.


i am being difficult on purpose because you are the portion i want to delay. you will go away maybe shaking your head. but i will stray on in my difficulty. this air around me now. you. you. who are not (decisive within a bookshop).

i was sitting out while the porch quivered. you red bird master of my pretense carted off the thick black book of letters.


telling surfaces. now for the tribal courses. fire in delicacy.

the right carcass. woven of geraniums and fallen willow

string. telling of it as an approval. for the children's sake.

so they'll know enough. to go on. without paper fingers.


Thursday, May 05, 2005
taste should go for long stretches of falling away.

it should always excuse itself & allude to viral spores.

taste in the mirror looks red and immoral. it couples.

mine is mine and mine with mine. it flirts with an architect.

look. taste is the subject. it goes off. swilling secrets.

it isn't the kind of thing that classy people ever talk about.


my precious. one. i put you all over in pieces. on purpose.


why late for the guess. i took it by mistake & couldn't

pretend to rhyme hide with inside. any more. so here.

justice for breath. mercy in the lurch. i'm celebrating

the classic themes. no more blues after you've gone.

away. i'll still have this hunch. these hot stumpy wings.


Wednesday, May 04, 2005
what tedium carted this out to the curb and said

listen you rat-faced poker-nosed limit, i got a mind

to. you ineffectual. you suture. you cue-card. i'm

gonna. and over there too.
humming a reference to

the long gone minors. unschooled pecking and bowing.


as in i haven't thought any of this before

i would prefer not to think any of it now i don't

recognize any part of myself in this engine. i'll

take the bus. i don't see me in your shiny shoes.


as in the relief of an arc taken past its own vague

sudden opinion. of say a corner where a bug goes.


still getting served after all this archeology. the passing

froze me and i stuck to now for now. i found nothing but

i found the fire pattern. why for example the vulgar term

rises from the general hubbub. every time. flame-like if

not exacting a destination such as lunch. a good burger.


Tuesday, May 03, 2005
when mother pines blonde and her baby suffers.

these days are perfect billiards. even on paper.

knocked round through thorns & unfaithful i'm

deleted & pastoral. where the sun's uncomfortable

matters resolve themselves upwards like father.

i go like spiderwork small & single to the pocket.


no for access it tells me a crucial

nexus violated many borders & cannot

go on. without me. no access thunder. no

access musical philosophy. misunderstood

me. got reorganized with red roots & true

galvanic shadow machines. that's cute. &

what i give becomes a sightless viewer.


still carry me cataleptical. overdone in a red tie.

i'm home in convincing the x box to stop whining.

water is good moonlight any morning. small white

son of tragedy. draped over something southern.

me in a daze was it from the ska way down to this.


Monday, May 02, 2005
walking i'm a vow to walk. a legged retina. not rhetorical

but substandard. completely false completely receptive as

sometimes a bird in the segmented sky might perform. on.


i wrote it stumbling fast. for your nuisance.

and you come over grumbling in roses. that's

just what we meant when we said. years from

now. next week. your chocolate is so far.

not many limousines wait for the big explanation.


Sunday, May 01, 2005
fifty romance. good lesson for interest.

pay no gains for losing. taken alike to

best of dining. fortunate and kingly as

loving heroes. fifty-nine romance does

the all new way for chemistry. rich &

comic talking for new models. good deals.

i'm not the one drinking story. not one.


if yr looking for it. come on over.

i understand. we've got a new one.

i guess it's come to this. us &

this regular trajectory. i will (i)

not be undersold as i shift toward

the modern. i will be staunch & as

fit as a frenzy. gears & x-ray fins.


in literature you can't refuse. you can't say the same

word over and over and over and and. and. and and

without failing. because there was no life. no one

signpost. or only one. but the wrong. and is not a word.

for anyone lively in his or her head stuck as snapshot

shut and. even. an entity of sorts. without eye sight.


hat lore. and without one i'm celebrating.

victories of the deeply divided ozone. sun

turbulence. razor wedge. absorbed alike by

this unimaginable brilliance. my head your

best wishes our sleek new interstate road.

all at the ready. we give us permission to.


the problem is you do it every day. it is what love

mentioned. you do it every day. and it is saying this

that recognizes how to. unbend theology. there is

a far off. to do every day is to wallow in disorganized

love. to tear off the curtain and guess for moments

at a time. what devices will serve. what sobrieties.


Saturday, April 30, 2005
heister in the act of most sincerely. taking god's word

putting it out for sun. was it actually you know. god's.

& putting it out he might as well have done us dirty in

triplicate. i'm stealing what thunder i find. in the pews.

to be explicitly. armed for the next edition. as in haste.


excuse me there's a sameness. subtle & founded in 1903.

a wing for fanning not flight. there's a limpid graphic odor.

a scale on the demographic slide. for pleasing and encoding

new translations of antique skin. antic assemblage. as if

the dodgers had finished off the turks in double overtime.


a deficient martyrology. lacking condiments.

fills me up. schools me down for the ages.

i never wanted to be. one of them. supposed

there were women pleating. bleating men

evoking. the stag hunt reckoning. all of us

straining to the desert the layer. pierced.

i wanted something vaguer. and more just.


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