Tuesday, August 01, 2006
i guess i did ... i did finish it ... at least here ... it took me 3.5 years ...

thanks very much for the early & ongoing encouragement ... and reading ... you know who you are ...

since it's lodged on my domain & not with blogger, fyp will remain online for as long as whenever ... feel free to visit & dip into the archives ... whenever

visit my next poetry blog at plainer for ...

riding gliding conating camogie skating tennis of all kinds dying flying sports of all sorts autumn summer winter winter tennis of all kinds hockey of all sorts penicilline and succedanea in a word I resume ... (waiting for godot)



Friday, July 28, 2006
this i visit long ... my tripling lingers ...

were we also farmers ... we were presents

marrying comparisons ... i stood tall in high

corn at the end of the world ... this i visit

frightened by the going on ... long

my tripling studies ... sunset on the wall



Friday, June 30, 2006
instead of

getting better

time alternates

killing possibilities

of other

lighter films

at home



a human squatting. exactly. in roses.

says yr justified. left or right.

says the apples come with irregular animals.

says waiting for the story. useful greens.

a human delivering. clearly. in bundles.



Thursday, June 29, 2006
as if the anime were as

i


was a rock or a stone

a plump granite death

for petals i got pinks

i wasn’t speaking of


a gendered ounce

of light


emergent playthings

i whickered their rubber wheels

to the new store

where shopgirls overweighed

as sighs my heavy

respiration relaxation

into their cool daydream


a gendered ounce

of news


surely you noticed how big their eyes

attempted the boys

in flutes of geranium-powered orgone

duplicated & abstract as any college-educated


one


a gendered ounce

of sense


trust me to the comic widows

i write foolish &

damn useless

evaporations


a junk-lit intuitive score

what the elevators call theory

i put in my gray books

& holler about the sad trees


weren’t you finally a thought

somewhere in the creekbed

no interest no payments

for sixty years