Friday, February 10, 2006
today for one thousand ninety five i'm jumping or
from. as a fire or a dead party. this party of one
thousand ninety five i'm talking to you and to no
one in cages. talking from a voice i should know

as mine if i haven't used it or as many of my free
voice coupons all is possible and yet nothing seems
worth the trip through general forests of notions
were we calling it poetry and were we settling in
for a long nap yes a long one with guests who've
brought dessert your imagination full of chocolate
rough prosey brown krispies whipped green grammatical
and resistant inflicting a slight wound to the tongue

farther fathers and dots. more dots. raining dots ...
packing one thousand ninety five with ... dots of waiting
dots of pretending dots of losing almost every true word
and finding how hard the reflection knocks ... me down
for dots of breath i get miles to go ... and my books
are brown they said i was an idiot and i believe them

because this is what an idiot does with the present

he smells himself turning into language now turning
rivers of lakes of oceans of

while something important settles into the next headline
an ordinary exchange of information's mortal halitosis
makes me want to scream but who would hear? for them in
the know know a no-no when it bites them in the knowing
place. there is a castle built of sugar and sweet sand
i'm the lonely prince but i'll get over it next lesson's
how to be a better person most admirable and august ...

as birth. all white and clean. as unmarked new space.
i brought my crayons and rubber stamps but forgot it
wasn't that kind of party. middle classes. midnight.
partial to allusions. open ends all frayed like firey
roads taking me home to anywhere. where i'll stay one
night or another and become the teacher i was meant to
learn what? how to read the edges the dog-ears flatness
indelible shadows of crumbs or boogers or narcoleptic
drooling pencils. reading for feeling. reading for dessert.


a change. say you need something and i've got it well
yr welcome to it. but i will mourn it. grieve it just
a little. but it's yrs for good. my secret lingo fort
justifies a box of purple and a box of yellow flowers
we'll need them when the indians come. we'll colorize
our paradise or i will for you. for no lunch of newds
(there. an arrow in the side of a perfectly good line
turns me out. forgotten sebastian in a maze of cretan
underwear. for allusive grit.) i tried to give it you

gave it back. so

the plan called for me to say here i am and you

to be you just long enough for me to get past this

next mother of a moment. there.

cast off. youless now. a greyhound of smoke.
circling back to desserts. unimaginable. rich.
i am not an artist i am a small good. where are you
where are you where are you where are you where
are you
slips back. i wasn't even trying. so

beginings without seconds come next. as a game of
risk without the alcohol. without the sexual tension
that accounted for those explosive miraculous wings.
calmness now in age. a well-considered an amusement

orange as cholera. that marked me inactivist for good

weren't you (again) the sky when science took me like

a vulgar kid out back for a modest beating. you looked

on like my nonpartisan papa and i came home sick of it.

a thesis a thousand and more days long
versed me in this voice because i been
to school. i been a hoop for dancing i
been the reasons i lined up for next &
next in the lonesome counterpoint what
flew romantic in a necropolitical face
well cut me out and call me ken i been
shuffling hard to duck this dumb labor

you lack. a certain whimsical device. moist for all your
ghosty theories. of how you became the very pigeon you
pluck one day after another. you failed those books
for listening. pastured impromptu self-snuck idiom. you.

so careless with the clients ... and yet as we say

and yet ... the parrot's descant coolly measured

warbled as mottled dessert ... pleases unscrupulous

taste ... just don't ask me over for it. i'll

be busy just then clipping my overlong fingernails.

philosophically there's been no forward progress
still a boy still a boy still a boy still a boy
a reason to study these books for the notes and test
still a boy still a boy still a boy still a boy
to pray is to dive deeper for finding an actual One
still a boy still a boy still a boy still a boy
to strap a line of fat white men before and behind
still a boy still a boy still a boy still a boy
there's been no progress forward philosophically

for a loan i took it all for a loan
so this payback anxiety seems all sometime
i'm on cable in screens all over america
my loaned up soul capacitor sparking spun

thus this and almost is this for that in some say

even desserts need desserts
endings as boys finding ends
in girls as in boys and gods

formless air. records or plantations of.

the seed knows itself and says smart things.
the kids understand money better than poetry.
the walking tries to get somewhere interesting.
the attractions resist naming as colors.
the intercourse requires lots of space between.
the suffering goes on in smaller or larger parts.
the lies never land.
the pop stars are still birds coming out coming out.

as this is just one part of the whole
it wouldn't be fair to judge the whole

by the part

and judging is a clear glass i'm drinking down.

in this part i speak plainly for the folks back home

who were hoping i'd amount. i strap on the guitar

strum a loud chord in my dream my parts flip out

in color in irregular geometrical bits as bad

seventies arena rock. still i've got the mic locked

on the vocals for my turn my turn my turn my turn.

it doesn't matter that i'm not

or that

i'm this or not it matters

farther on that a space had a part for

one and any in one and many

taking time to follow what had to

i follows everywhere

Thursday, February 09, 2006
it was a realism i shied away from ...

a foreign port coming down like angels ...

then i spied the guy .. and he spat ...

i was woven all into shy paper ...

and you said i couldn't come back ... a smoke

a joke ... i'm the way ... all into paper

up without a white escort

now as the anecdote

first the bushes

then barely a boy in the cabinet

first barely then the cabinet

in bushes a boy

structured though fewer

as anecdotes for

breath taking simmering

as one dark swimmer

tuning to the next

stations and stages

live inventions

"interesting as


at least in bushes barely

singly shuddered

barely was it a shameful

fever built up

a few and the snails weren't

calling a roosted

boy barely interested as dark

or anecdotal longing

this photographic martyr is mine

say to be

to be in saying

along way back from the cabinet

in rags like a woman

for disapproval

he hated me then i stopped

in it as barely a boy

could stop and in rags going

hot from a look and a word


for elbows knees and others

in white stories

sooner unravelled and told

barely silver in

with him i told you

who knew it first i knew it

Wednesday, February 08, 2006
makes this your ... moment each

word recommends a nest ... & you

are completed .. now & now ... urged

to mark ... what's falling in blacker

crayon ... i am wishing you more

and farther ... backgrounds for

this trying to ... fix ... thing

piled and notched history has bones

to pick to gather to chew to burn ... there

saying things again ... history comes knocking

with magazines to sell and a kid destined

to rise no higher than ... the times

i say look at me in this ridiculous dress ...

am i not the truest guest ... where were

my punctuations hiding ... were they

not in the trance i threw ... were they not

in the graves ... plumped with new dirt

where my stops and starts go ... look

Tuesday, February 07, 2006
mostly trapped in a voice he never wanted ... who talks

this way ever ... look out for civil wars in rubber shoes

look out for life ... professor ... it's got a big butt

and nasty sharp commercials ... he sings to black holes

in his socks ... and we join in because we know history's

turning to bad opera for plots ... & dumb description ...

comes to handouts ... we're perverse enough past raucous

mystical deliveries ... we'll take the sky or an orange

for it ... seeming pain gets all the archaeology lately

and in our new decline we're asking politely ... arrows

and chopping stones please ... that finally a handbook

for coding trips on the bus along the shabby wires has

come out ... and tall grass for tourists makes us seem

useful in our pretending ... when the small birds come

Monday, February 06, 2006
colloidal ... equivocal ... night

rheumatic ... centrifical... touch

ambitious ... millennial ... tongue

not believing or having been free ...

to ... not having been such to say ...

but seen in the right light ... which is

never light ... seen ... having been free to say

nothing ... it was ... and never having been

right ... but losing each in believing ...

for saying ... never over ... and over which

having no right ... but for seeing and such as

we are ... coming out to say ... without a right

would rippling has me in its famous grip then i'd spar ...

like males of any continent ... them in dresses butting

heaps of teachings ... about getting along or about an i

up for grabs ... we look like snow but end up with burns

still ... lining the double world with ... ruby dots ...

given means half-learned ... would means without show

so given would mean inconspicuous ineptitude ... mine

as an arm of light ... for example ... descends upon

the arbitrary figure of an ox above the street's rosy

commmotion ... making a way up to judgment ... given

the times ... i'm fed generously for flight and grown

by pounds unfinished as an author's blooming section

... i can tell you and then you will know ... some of

Sunday, February 05, 2006
if one were to map eurydice in the book she went on

then the archangel falling and the penny on the track ...

if one were in the same dish for dinner and dreaming

and evolving toward a new color ... well why not ...

one might register at last ... each right and wrong of

amazement every cultural singularity ... bright star

blundering as one in american might say ... love is

not that great ... i tried it once ... caught a cold

bringing the ugly in ... the silk worried poem ...

many proses in towns too gone ridden ... by hacks

in ads ... how many nights coughing and pees ...

in the poem right up to the door ... i want some

ugly validation ... stamp ... on each old finger ...

brain me if i don't go ugly ... in time i got

guts and nerve cojones i got balls to say this

... any once ... and an ounce ... as red shoes ...

long ago ... put his ducks in line ... for dinner

and ate photographical ... and tasted good and ugly

Saturday, February 04, 2006
i'm not telling you to do anything ...

not laying out a substantial bibliography ...

telling the terms and worlds in color ...

you get the edges all to yourself ...

to unravel the mysterious and frenetic ...

do the unthinkable rhumba ... slamming eyes doors ...

anything fatal primal ... geological ... no

begins an over as any fact

triples the gas to whisper

yowls the fine black steps

passes nervously if one is

sleeps one sleep of a hole

sees you you over here you

falls final trampling some

one is an

open toon

one is an

other sun

licit as an opening hearing. for writing the buses.

reading the city frightening the peaceful ones. do

you need to know it is a dream. a pocket farce day

back to finish your phrase currently

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