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February 2008
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April 2008

March 2008

my little star

You aren't so hot. What's this with

Starting and stopping and cancelling

Every new one. For starting over.


Gimme grief. It makes me spring.


And in pieces of your broken. There.

Slimming into the obvious. A thug.

You make a morbid thing. Then this.


a regular part of his life

We'd always prefer sentences. How far

Could listing words hold any one of us?

An iconic journey for instance. Joy

Pedaling backwards. Just remember what all

These things meant in the darkroom doubly shut.

Beauty, suffering, quarries, kelp, tango, fame.

Give me sentences, transcripts, red callers

Any day. My skull ship's grandfathered in.


one without pockets

What at last became new stood old

On the edges. Wherever you were.

Breath. My post-colonial espadrilles.

Mornings motivating a fresh center.

For urban plumbing. For combination.

What at last drives any of the weary

Into the arms of Black Jack Davey.


america used to illustrate

Fine. If you want to pick apart every word.

OK. I get it. It's a prosey exemplum. And proud of it.

We will be happy and liberal on an extended plain.

We will be flat and collected. Pilgrims, come on.

Are you serious? These fires have cheated us of history.

We will say whatever comes to mind. Just a second.


My body dreams and gets surrounded by Apostles.

It's like that all the time. We can't say any more. Then that.

What you called the embarassment. Takes up a new shushing.

So we can't hear the city anymore. It lost something.

It coddled panic. It forced us out to a flat bang boom.

Without resolution. Seers or serenity. Go get your lunch.

Quickness without new glasses. Cancelled by afternoon.

I wouldn't serve that truth. But maybe some others. Then.

But what does it mean and what do you mean?

I just don't get it. We gave you all this responsibility.

And what did you do with it? Answer directly below.


never can also stand for the body

Here we were. Marking an ideogram on the Inexpressible.

Staples in place. We'd designed an oblique pond. Wraparound.

Printed to bow in bright neighborhoods. Took a step further.


We were calling from the country. Could you hear us?

We were both likely and possible. Would you play?


Farther than that. I'd come alive to play the crooked stream.

I played it as a harp even unbagged. Stuffed like uncertainty.

Brushed up in old clothes I saw me striding savagely home.


To say it took all my strength it took all my like trees like time


innocent people

Skillful yellow at the edges. Still.

No need to write PAINTING all over

The Piece. It resembles a missile

Above our blue house. It's clever.

We're not accountable for all this

Until the full cost of art is recovered.


of the era

Sometimes notched is better than island.

Hopeful as a carton. Ruling wrong-way puns.

We flatten ourselves & wait for bubbling

Vats of random slugs to rise. We're cured.

And forget the way to say Thank You that

Gets us our next & necessary appendage.


avoiding the scene

He'd bent a Port so fine not one could enter

Unless Day One said Sure, you get to. See?

And then and then everybody hollers Go On.

And then sometimes the whole City leans in.

For coming and going is all the same. Easy.


who ever were before

Parking spots on my trajectory. See the doc

About that. Funny to finish the musing ruin

Puzzled by cement mixers going all literary.

Then startled. To have handled a semi-colon

As cobra of a bright, silver night. One to bite.

But back to the traject there's an opening on

The next forty acres. Publish a tome there.

Push atomic buttons here. It's maybe politics

Got the better of an epic anonymity. Says I.