If I put characters here. You'd have a root or trunk.
A narrower field. With two boys in it. A girl at home.
But it's made of exhibition. It's made of praise.
Guess we''ll have to be not broken but terminal.
Spirits in tall grass that isn't only tall grass but tall grass.
Here you are. And I. Here.
So why not two girls in it. And a boy at home.
Why not a tremor. But where.
Now that the breath has blown out of me again
I recognize off the edge of a field that homey
Work comforts the center more. But I can't find
It. So I prefer a cardigan over a v-neck, but
They're so hard to find at an affordable price.
I'M RESPONSIBLE. Cries the keyboard. It's a
Mistake I meant to type. Or how the landscape
Blushes, thinking any one of us might be a
Painter at loose ends. Meaning to cut back on
Residential chiaroscuro for Scandal's sake. I'm
Not ranging much from the palace lately. Either.
In the dirt made of words. This extensive root system
Pings my ferocities into Effort. Mint goes wherever
Mint wants or needs to go. Was it Happening always.
Ever since the lack of a steel ring. Steering itself.
The runners came to Cameras subtle & bitter. Castles.
Available as flinty rock. Go on. Keep trying. Say it's
My turn. My turn useful. My turn inept. Explanation.
Think something and say it. Wrestling
Is a sport of solitude but not a solitary sport.
Now that's a relief. Once you've said something
It can be tested against your embarrassments.
An embarrassment of prose, for instance. Or
An embarrassment of political syntax. Just think
What might come to the newly constituted reader.
Silent in confusion. Swamped in all this clarity.
Or to begin sincerely there alone and violent.
These are my fingers staring.
What is that kind of laugh he does?
Yr supposed to be music or at least a stone.
The whole world is whole, you see. It's a recognition in time. Oh, I see you're being philosophical. Who taught you that? Nobody I just mean. Parts aren't ever just that. But about this violence. The problem is theirs, not yours.
Look. Evidence?
But why would anybody care to memorize?
Who puts their pretty picture up in their unexceptional youth?
Who fars flat? Who humans the place?
How we all strained toward meaning This
Is what we meant to understand. What
Crafty gents we're meant to be in pants
Or dresses. We meant to be variations.
On the old line. We'll never know if we're
Good enough to publish but we keep on
Publishing rudely exclusive. Merrily inept.
Look how all these pictures make us look
So pretty and presumptuous. In American.
A sleep farm in trousers. About
Tension at the center. Wherein
An athlete composes. Sudden
Bouts of goo descend from. Noses
Peppered & otherwise. Flagrant
Dreaming in friendship's net. About
A week later trouble. Arise
Gay brothers and sisters. Combine
In strange affirmations. Cartons
Of rain destiny glue. Robust
In your ordinary. Retreats.
While this last eight miles makes melody
Of oral feet. There. Expect me on the tenth
With soundly built on what used to be the
Freeway of the folk-rock explosion. Now
Sweetly that I can't remember anything
Someone said today. It was funny but War's
Also forgettable. Just as we were learning
How les arpéges flow. Baroque & elegiac
Caught fire a compost burnt & puffed off
To the Unearthly bossa nova. Artscuffed I
Pronounced it. Counter-grammasophical.
Which is does. Thank you.
A string of likelihoods. News!
Must always come so.
What could any of us?
Is does of course but how?
For flowers and fruit.
For curtains. Torture!
Is does only near the end.
And the blame which.
And the fiery goof.
Not to have seen is.
But just now near the end.
All of a sudden we're supposed to be
Full of the old life. Like razors or catholics.
Supposed to have processed and excreted
The rhythms and liars that liked rain.
Old teeth ruby red old eyes.
A couple detergent excesses.
Every spontaneous headsong.
Like me in my complaints we're supposed
To be scuttled in our newfound plenties.
Of parks and stems and gruesome loveliness.
So we're supposed. And we're ready.
Because I resolved at the start that these would have nothing to do
With me because I wanted to find a place for good that held
More light and space than I ever could and standing next to a
Dead rosebush I know what gas engines never could do on their own
Because here's death and here's a line of children dressed for a game
Of Go Get Lost or Jump Like a Spider but none of them
Guessed right so I had to be It once and for all because
Pretty soon it would be too dark for games pretty soon it would
Shuffle around our ears like nerves and then where would we be because
We weren't going to last through the night at least I wasn't because
I'd decided to fill a hole full of dead plants and burn them
Because well that's my secret and none of your business but it's nice
To find something so utterly gone so completely not anywhere at all here
Once accepted without Pronouns,
A leaching of the day's rude Samba
Generates interruption and a guess.
Extraordinary windows. Whole weeks
Of Spanish. Secret versions of The
Masculine. Come to bury Youth to
Record The Complete Roustabout.
Well, I'm an idiot.
