now there's a rug of opera weaving in the stripped-down trees

now when i bend into private language

now

now black and yellow messages come to hand

for me the use is a master a master piece

for me i head north and south as one page

now in fresh electricity i spell marx with a c and an elbow

now then

now all the while you were accidental i was a decoration

now in flexible packaging thoroughly a woven rug of opera

now twits and twitters in the street for a much older man

for the wind has each description and tells me one at a time

for i am the shadow ... the downhearted suspicion ... of content
posted at 6:59:23 PM

then as sandpaper is sometimes useful ... work and prayer

we found in the old histories ... where subtle nations ...

wrestle to control the mythic ... categories ... some sweat

to irish to the majority to ... time undermined as value ...

what i needed came in lunch ... as a bird and not polemical

or as a vast overthrown thing none of us could ... handle

packed as identity ... i'm twenty-three of something & good

at the symphony ... i'm losing fathoms now ... & i'm

ready for the next experimental opening ... all my toys

obsessed as companions ... painting the arcs ... something

to get worth a day or part of a day ... common ... a

semi-deliberate manuscript for ... childhood development

self-captioned ... whiter than anyone needs ... foot-

notes and marketed ... mortal as any seasonal textbook ...

next to kitchen design you my love ... are the indigenous

book of my suburb ... triumphant and appropriate ... notion
posted at 8:02:00 AM

prose at last in a large enough box ... for knuckling we've got

new territory full of broken syntax and old school spiritual

ejaculation ... as alas & o the slender wings of dawn slide off

the greasy edge of night's ... prose isn't fair or isn't smart

enough to remediate each of our inefficient orders quickly ...

nothing reminds me of trains more than the piling in of lumber

to a big blue metal disposal container ... the 12:57 right on

time ... cute little bunny on the caboose ... for the seasonal

touch then we're off to writing school and we learn a lot in fact
posted at 1:04:00 PM

these in certain ... these are fine for waxing ... cars

and poems ... these will bring you many good luck ... a

rush of goodness in threes unless you are the president

then ... there are holes everywhere and no good waxing

for now ... but only wherever your thought might ... go
posted at 12:50:00 PM

some softer than the others ... then this what no index

fortunately and perhaps so there's rhythm ... in the sky

forced as non sequiturs ... forced to fly on their own ...

look up and then ... look it up under ... recent flights

i was repeating and convulsing like a fresh magnetic pole ...

but you had a strong adhesive quality ... yet softer than

mine ... a sentence at a time ... before the dancing came

off ... we stuck to this logical landscape like pennies ...
posted at 11:52:00 AM

i can through that ... i ... make do of enough misery ...

subject to a longing ... strict gnosis ... real content

stirs me ... don't it you ... whole hands full of it

and hungry for it ... this ... and this .... field

and stuck to my ... inappropriate footwear ... tree

untapped for fame ... i can understand you when ...

you are the little one ... but not when you are the

completely certain purveyor ... peddler ... shill ...

and who ever convinced general sherman ... to stand

like that as a history ... of folding his arms & not

to be a pest to millions ... once a war got going good
posted at 3:55:41 PM

and wouldn't have cared to produce any

reality ... fly me

off to the land of oceans in stones ...

fly me ... moderately

to the combine of secrets ... to shakes of

reconnaisance ... flights to

vaster friendlier colorations ... as home

to realities ... lost under paint

as a book in itself an optimism ... a wall

with many real doors ... in fact

the arms we needed came ... in pages often

damper than ... spring in action

what i imagined became ... my imagination

my first war and then ... my

second impression startled less bloody ... if

this new way ... of saying

might hold it back ... the likely next ocean of
posted at 11:27:00 AM

there's news of an aria ... in jargon ... don't you

hear news of an aria in jargon ... a range of powers

tumbling to the core ... of an important chorus ...

reasonably melodic plunges into ... an outsider or

someone seeming ... humorous & self-deprecating as

in felonious rhyme ... this 21st century prominence

demands a ... fly-through newly dangerous mother of

all contemporary delights ... repressed in the wings

while a soprano putzes around ... in jargon in love
posted at 11:23:00 AM

i would mix your turning with out ... my old

shocking ... mistakes in my misunderstandings

delight in thoroughly new experimental drumming

my eyes ... i mix in a falling apart ... some

thing ... on the next channel ... every blue

flame flaming on ... my eyes mixed for dancing
posted at 2:20:24 PM

new gangs for satellite data ...

unstrum me in a blasted tune... a coda comes

too soon ... here's a line for poets everywhere ...

the winter night lost ... sprung for good ...

so i pulled down my softing or hood...

and launched the ordinary ... understood

as that which dawns theory ... in its own hands

a practical cracker ... finding fear for fun ...

dawning voids ... dawning adoration ... death

for eternal life ... i'm full of it starting

now ... head of the beautiful next machine ...

new drama for such men ... in toto

annotated ... and inevitable ...
posted at 7:00:31 PM

more to the point ... if you love

someone never tell that person of

... you know ... your love ... it

's a horse or a wagon nobody need

go ... on ... any more because it

's impossible to go on ... i says

impossible ... in that the lights

will not let you ... take no step

toward love ... the going on says

i will not stop ... or never tell

eternal love ... as going for one

i says don't do it ... once or at

any chance ... moment will become

the lost love ... of your ... you

know ... life ... get to love art

or animals ... don't tell it then

... tell it to the wall ... there

are people in there ... goings on

and better not know ... about you

and the cupboards ... the shelves

was that love ... i'm not telling
posted at 11:06:00 AM

describes the picture beginning ... so sinuous as an

option toward a plot ... there's the star of all our

deaths ... closing up vengeance ... attracted to the

young microbes of feeling ... and equal to picturing

us nervously interstellar ... a void of publishing a

fantastic suicide ... i'm in charge of coming and go
posted at 9:42:00 AM

that it's a stump in time ... knowing ... it's cash

not philosophy ... a fender full of bugs ... read me

sleeping into the book ... a travelogue or intimidation

of minding eyes tuned to the next hesitant ... space

or enough room as a niche for doing well ... measure

me in vegetables ... as a stipend for the dance undone
posted at 9:35:00 AM