Friday, July 01, 2005
saying things is nice but what do you want

when there's just you wanting it. nothing you

want nothing but the next breath would be

good. you know the next pulse might bring

some new uh thing from the next room and

then there'd be us in our pjs ripping pages

from old magazines waiting for a buzz going

a little wild in our biomechanical humming

towards night. just waiting for saying to

white hole.

you want to hear a person in it.

a garden's nice too.

then work for the music.

a new governor asks for patience.

figure it's time dropping.

down for small rocks and boulders.

you want that disembodied voice.

russian paint.

the blues we sang finally got into our bellies.

all this culture took.

at hazard

knowing it

complicates things

still born

into health

a postcard

comes permanently

fat as

good behavior

knowing it's

trouble or

not caring

what light

on which

flowers falls

you make the rules and i'll live out my days long

as wits go plunking on.
long as eternity's got us

might as well go go go. through flat hot windows see

any number of tempers. to stop to dance to seem so.

not actually knowing anything in the bordered fields.

all the good neighbors are fat. all the colonists mad.

the lazyass poet spits fire at the quick brown rats.

Thursday, June 30, 2005
it tied to words you got free

then imprecise and puff. even

the spot gives me quivers

of being someone too much.

mark me mark me mark me

down. as one who. and that

should be enough. costing

out the passion. leaves it

free. going to van morrison

in my capitals and spots. arc

is best in sunlight. i'm blind

again. working out an itch.

he talk funny

bully beset by

language stripped

of personhood. who

sent us to this

defiance. who

plucked a robin

for sound. failed

to reboot a

face. who.

Wednesday, June 29, 2005
say light pink you can't see.

he's marrying her.

then trembling it's a garden.

so you see it.

i'm convinced by your purples.

or next approaches

a window. this angle improves me.

i think of one

eruption we needed. that dog.

Tuesday, June 28, 2005
who showed up

in beauty then

incoherent as

a board 2X6.

who suspended

the drive &

fled well went

far up stairs.

i was an oak

an elk an ape

a small king

a gap in light

the common good

things like streets

noon in the village

there's a debt for

the common good

ideas in values

my life as a punk

brother in a horde

there you have it

the common good

a structure we need

for non-profit

intuitive coupons

sailing stooping

as ghosts to water

spinners ticklers of

the common good

rushing saving

us in policy

us in the airy

the common good

Monday, June 27, 2005
a pretty fast crowd. and sliced

out of it quickly. soon you get

a slanted metaphysical guide

then you go all unspecific as

porcelain. nobody wants you

without their theory. it's just

bad and insatiable. primitive.

separate these ones here.

a poor for four a poor for.

this one this one this one.

isn't listening. thistle dogs.

long ago forging song.

stripping off and jumping in.

couldn't you smell it.

kindness. for all betweens.

many get paid for leaning.

truth is i found it bleeding.

waste of a good clock.

simply. how the parched green. got.

a hearty shakespearian paunch. a

day. the swelter. there go our lies.

to dig sorry songs. a gentle strum

puts us out. a dark blue jukebox.

a quart of varied fluids gushing. in

time we get. me and my exercises.

roughly the same. one by one. an i.

Sunday, June 26, 2005
wise angles. i'm in the middle of the street that's yellow

with good guesses. i'm blended into the sky. so there.

yr an alabaster mock-up of a poet with good hair and

a dog. can there ever be a you without this presuming.

i can't say you without it i can't not even with the right

instruments all my vitamins each of the four little holes.

these wings. they're classic. blue cultivars of a shadow.

Saturday, June 25, 2005
this thing my life seems so immense. as part

chips off & is good for starting. down wind comes

a tune i know. you know it too. so. let's get back

to standing and strangely through the city of it.

this new part of life that asks for everything and

gets it. really coping well with the newness of it.

can't you talk like a human. under a blue sky in happiness

with sayings. for the walls we get. enough. can't you say

what in the light comes down. how many in inches. how far

the way goes. where you were many many. no fey cabin boy

but the captain. the boss of yr own damned tongue. spoken

like a spanish adventurer. a russian thief. a public human.

tornado forces the midwest of one. spits out time.

it was her playfulness in the extremest condition.

it was launched on the springs of broken hunches.

but here i'm tossed. off the shelf. a plainness say

where gods and goddesses reason that my simplicity

is misunderstood. i'm the cat in the wind you see.

i'm veering toward you. wild car. a classic lover.

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