Friday, June 10, 2005
so much is road. put yr cigarette over here.

as for sun we're out of it for now. gravelly

& running off to where we've been. so is

kentucky far enough. for you. i wonder is

the window cracked from a fight or a rock.


one of these in so many. taking its time. it's time

for another controversial election. my inferior dog

up against a utopian neighborhood. they grieve

nightly for the chills come howling forces paper

over windows. we just needed to run in the long-

hand we got sharing promotional tools & all. we'd

mark a line & spill over it like manic north korean

seismographers. for fun & to prepare. as art & all


while the field seizes a mutt. consider

yourself articulated. one spore your

one birdshat seed. waits for clapping

in heat's cloudy book. i get to buzz

a farther nose. then taking one. i'm

who emerged in the 1950s as. this

plan. this heavy limestone hound of


Thursday, June 09, 2005
small pur-

poses

handing

me my

silence


did you

see the

cult pass

over



wonder that. maroon numbers hit yr head for bruises.

its unopened music for faroff angelic rites. it's justice

fine for unread books. i'm in the other room smiling i'm

the grounder slipped between a fine drum solo & the

strut of a blue heart. i waited in the pews for long long.


this church can't be said without.

said in phrases with points & icey eyes.

a church in stead of. can't be said in

torrents of carefulness as a host of

ideas that go. against the ideas

you'll have to look darling. farther.

without saying how far or in which


Wednesday, June 08, 2005
what i don't know should inflate my silent gymnasium. rattle echoes.

what i send turns green and begins singing La Marseillaise coarsely.

my devices. my delirium. my faultless span of oaks. taken for a reproach.

you can find me at this number. wholly caring. wholly untenably harmonic.


so i was selected trying to be important coming down with an epiphany.

my broad shoulders empower you all. you know it. in time for the revolution.

i'm busy editing my sidemen. they bungle my delicious fantasia on the preceding.

you and i will move in a cheerful translation toward the door of many masks.


just yr standards there. trying in hot sun to be deviant as hell.

longing for the end. there it goes. slippery away into a catalogue.

never sentenced appropriately for the crying. never sent.

recorded on the telephone seizing one moment after another.

many strangers occidental in sharp trousers. look. they commingle.

i among many deep-down & comical. you scattered for clouds & poverty.


some pecking through the former window.

white real worlds where it's all very funny.

black real tumbles down around our heads.

laughing into boxes. pecking far into winds

& why not just say it. you can't get it open.


Tuesday, June 07, 2005
choosing the opposite. seems less never more.

a red branch going grey. after all i've only read

the song. once. in a park under brown paper so.

there's not a film yet. i'm getting richer by time

choosing the opposite. puts me on canvas. and

takes you farther in one box at a time. in parts.


then stringing a caution across my illogical

notion that sympathy is always misplaced.

i remember an accidental tower. a voyage

in color. a prairie wailing for me to come on.

so the chances took it. in boots. listening

for all my pieces to line up. line up nicely.


universal & bewildered as truth. horrible facts

& you are the best. you cut her lip & sew it on

backwards. there's a fine line that leads to a

thin border. we get to go there after the sun.

the nature sits us down for such misbehaving.


Monday, June 06, 2005
all this to see at last. he is talking in code.

replace every third e with any amphibian there

you get a delicious lunch or a condensed true

history of the concentric. here as you. seeing.


welcome wind. even dust for example as

the which i cannot undo. what a noise

all over pretending to be cultural. i

am looking forward to yr visit & will

take you out & in for a specified fee.

welcome wind. the museums & the shops.


veering for a headache into no headache.

which drug made a vicious masquerade go

on & off all day. long as a tin highway

music i'm making for my own folk. you &

the others who. can't read for long with

aches & all. amazement comes in phrases.


Sunday, June 05, 2005
what love the reading implies for yr own making.

is simpler to say love one another where one is

any. say a cobweb or a hungry tyke or a useless

vine. i meant to read wings into it. as yearning to

sleep alone. as the best of all possible outcomes.

for actual rest is rare & hardly found in branches.


spiral blossoms from the locust or

not-beautiful grimace made of setting paste

into a new pop phenom that sells as they say

like a carotenoid-rich diet. i eat.

flaming out at day's end my book snatched

pirated & violent against this soft sissy kindling

sunset. going on.


Saturday, June 04, 2005
maps that the other night were walking

i get it i get so clearly get it now i get

it wasn't that you had counted yr fears

but that the stairs were dark enough i

clinging down them bringing a shame

my shame in monochrome misery steps

called the stations clutching down a way

& nights go faster on a map i take along


so right yr own kiss on stone. shopping

in america makes me more honest than

improper. you know it's cheaper when i

write it & you kiss it in aisle seventeen.

where they sell permanent markers &

what are doing what are you saying?


outside i get the willies. outside i'm at loose ends.


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