Friday, June 16, 2006
which in hateful steps one word gouging that next

into saying what said itself first somewhere else


i had the answers counting on that music

just as simply sung for earth's sake somewhere deeply


or stop this in its tracks puddling now that i

was crying now that i'd posed me somewhere useless


and the new lacks everything stable that hush

worn to the ends of thinking it comes somewhere soon


which wasn't cooler for parking near that fact

and wasn't looking anywhere then somewhere far


this was a game we invented and that means

we were probably having good fun somewhere there

Thursday, June 15, 2006
what the role then called a flat postwar raininess ...

love in one of the many different trees we have ...

he say the modern goes down like a troubling by-product ...

we might struggle to attach one to the tail-pipe ...

they try to steal my man she sing the early bird to pieces ...

tell you what i mean again ... weren't you

the one jumped off when the sky ... explains

how far i've come waiting ... it was a sharp

leftover ... to stay as the infinitive to go

leaves off ... a long string of impertinence

where am i in all of this ... where is any

you now that yr wearing my face i'm an ain't

we do so love to speak of ourselves in blue

thousands ... nobody speaks but dances ... i

got the dance to go to go on ... yr home but

i'm ... all edges made for keeping off kilter

a line going on to threats ... insolent verbal

foot-jiggling ... a spatial mambo ... static

which took its name from all its kitchens ...

Wednesday, June 14, 2006
o well jenny a few blues

genuine blues next to.

cuttings. cutting. cut.

sets in motion. nonverbal

screens. as esteemed

elder. vulnerable as.

genuine captain of art.

all your luck has changed

today. is this yours.

this one borne like an

apple to school. just

puts the odd rock&roll

scattered. black back.

this code means the.

determined to discount.

songs that resemble yr

daddy in the angle. of

a roof. weeping buckles

of weary tears. all gone.

until the next time. fine.

these flowers for you.

Tuesday, June 13, 2006
me in my fierce intelligence pajamas.

i got the stipulated cultish

clouds coming low on the far ledge.

& i got mountains in my eye-rest.

to know there must have been

something terribly

acceptable. all that rising.

calls one to the front.

weren't so much an opening as an aptitude.

a classic dislocation. stranger.

plain burnt anarchist. then that's me

on one of the million. lying. inarticulate.

doodled. formalities.

i slink to the next bright orphan's home.

don't forget the spider.


gigantic song. of


gone along to


gigantic rite of


Monday, June 12, 2006
flag or



these a


rind of


& sorry


depict &


what kings.

as per usual the study removes the tradition.

i owe to the present a deep debt.

or was a mediated somehow loving day.

or tried to engage the youth and the elders.

what people.

Sunday, June 11, 2006
Formerly I concluded that the Edge of Time

cuts me and the world just where it's easiest

not to see or feel. I used to be a Preface

in the next book - always a thoroughly contemporary

dramatic variation of The Dreaming Knight and His

Pleasant Lack.

As I took that world to heart, I

understood. As if one must dispose of each new thing

once its influence has been. as In the rooms They.

Go on.

Without being any smarter, I still curl a Present here

of this spikey delirium to You. Made up of sentences,

I'm the loser where the body breaks off its own diagram,

plays The Runt Card, and hopes no one will try to sing.

Along. or Reside in any Other than its own Beginning.

I'm collating high-quality Impulses. Weren't you wishing

I'd fallen to some Ghostly Inaccuracy? You were stepping

in my poverty-tracks, my caterpillar anthology. Not yours.

To be as Hope is. Professor off center. Angel far on.

Saturday, June 10, 2006
there isn't a word for it

when the tree lightens

just as one or the other

as if the sky had some

put all your capitals in one

gin and beer wine and beer

stop the traffic for quietude

dinners in threes

a policy isn't a prayer

what wind what honking flame

drives the car out to that plurality

and back

individually inked

saying in holes each eats

it in nine and organized

almost at the edges almost

an answer but never just

i founded the next school

without cables or plugs

as the long martyred dutch

equalities & hallucinations

of my catholicisms

rendered heartwrenching agons

whole gardens full of

gut-busting notions

keenly i observed families

in fools of ourselves

were chosen tight & tattered

for the next


for the next & next

one back to mine

back to finish your phrase currently

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