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Friday, July 08, 2005 steering
hard. toward all the white people. most in wheelchairs or. vastly overweight. someone kicked down the antique limestone burial signs. wintering by a. lincoln's icy palazzo. i'm keeping eyes on the bill. i'm counting the flatness as it chases us down a heaven without apologies. as acres of corn Thursday, July 07, 2005 tea
with paintings in the style of keith haring. tea far from all our african dreams. tea in trouble with the second law of thermodynamics. tea grinning like an uncle. tea for dosing sick children and pets. tea under certain constraints. tea nervously tea with gumption tea as an acrobat. (counting as if in balancing tea and check books) tea. the banker's thin daughter. tea as a limit beyond which only the vulgar move. Wednesday, July 06, 2005 this
heavy. as half a rabbit left over. the anterior a novel with unpleasant characters. plastic discounts in my poems. there. you got one right. Tuesday, July 05, 2005 funny
book in the belly of the saint. i bought it for a buck. trained me to dance like these kids on tv in my brain you understand. i'm merging with the currents of the under- served losers brothers sisters. one with your holy nevers. and the one about eliot is a scream. reminds me of any of a thousand axioms dribbling here from the skylight. there
are worse kinds of purely rhetorical abuse. worse in that self-slaying configuration we get that punchy bold complication saying moralism's bold in shimmery fatality like pigeons in a row shimmery democracies of any crowd we might make of lost rights saying let's kill it by the next vote rights to depend on an entertainment calmly as depend on mother father brother sister to get it mother in this context an invalid a cup of willing this to count for something hoping it won't at all Monday, July 04, 2005 for
example the exit mistaken for an aspirin. i took it grudgingly. or for example the edges of a reputation for the primitive. wilder one an actor with blinky eyes who never sweats. collected and boxed for joy. for example ice. politics. my companions rocking out spiritual positions as if they were cereal boxes of joy. dx
describing art commences at ten lps as an integrity suspended bni fighting turnstiles turning into cw nursery hip rhymes pz rz fz and so forth until its lastman standing wf or i'm confusing a rt with a handle for lifting hot things from stoves q. period. theses look side- ways thinking. j enough for nw i'm cold. yd free sure. and coming to get yr vlm. disconcerting. no tremor blm to hushes. pretty
soon in pieces. safely put stay here while the thunder. newspaper hints a broad decorated rump-style. next to the vulgar. americans predict rhyme. startled to bits. a watch. a scrofulous temper. body silt. guess me what i wanted here. just guess. fragged and sagging on eveyone's birthday. pockets. it was pockets in a delirious pot. Sunday, July 03, 2005 when
do they stop being terrible fledgling tongue-sprockets. when do the belly for it end. when do good insects cry uncle. when do it stop unlawful as a feeling plastered over itching. when do sharp sighted and thick come up on the ruly mishmash. so
for luminous parents let's dangle from trees in full sun damp socks wrecked rubber flippers sodden overripe fruit. our parents' handles are wooden now & splintered rough. still. we need them windless days. pointing both ways we get to go shopping at each reformation stall. selecting a skill. an obsolete indigestible bone for dinner. we eating turn to life as the usual the ordinary lumber of listening. surfaced
and scoured this is the temperature. i meant if i were. in the heat of subjunctive faith. this nervous boy takes his gills out for swimming & finds a couthness and a scrupulous oath burrowing through the black rubber seal. as william blake goes walking his mooncalf on a spittle-chain. we gape. and hope it will not make poetry on us. Saturday, July 02, 2005 hardly
a word the body bears it as contagion. we stand in it with our hands. i militate against it in a fresh uniform. its chastity is profoundly disturbing as a dog's might be. surging to right and left reminds its timepiece. to fall from a tight shelf is about all. the body used us as salt and for counting. in virtual shame it reasons back to its mouse form. let licking go on. let it lick as a prophet. lightly. what's
happened to the rubber stamp of the grin that it's a beachy landscape without birds or parents. what it means communes with damp spirits or calls me names like August Ape. Causeless Pragmatickal. stamped in silver green I get to go roving some more by the fingering waxing moon. i go tramping. a wave. entitled as cornstalks to soughs that speak & wince. here
it's happening. buzz dusk and the brass bell remember what chip asked. we're all membered so far as it counts one nightbird one was it a bat one light sharpening and gone coded for a gust. i get the top a week then dream bottom. useless as a story we got plenty to tell to tell too. bejiggered
or then tottered for swooping what's left. once the hawk has flown the small birds toss off luggage. as in biaritz the indigenes know how to breathe. as in a portrait by eakins the light slumps down to the left. for freedom's sake you get an extra day to do nothing and then you get to give it back. sharp-sighted fathers. this set forth a gentle new path to lycanthropy. back to finish your phrase currently  |
