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September 2008
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November 2008

October 2008

which under the menu was mistaken

You get no disguise until you take us home.

These insights cost plenty. The upper floors

Are empty until the leash wears out. So

What could any of us do? The moment's

A gas. Really. What comes next is all loss.

Who takes pleasure in his words his moody stream.

The common present past. Who said

F word you you silly f wording old f word.

A novel transit. That's a price on the preacher's face.

The kids are either in love with it or deaf. By now.

I don't know. I'm unstill. On my ways.

A generational and not a generative frustration.

What the mother said wasn't what the father said.

And suchlike loaded. Mysterical intent. You

Can't be serious under a locust branch and all.

You better mark the world with a fighty pen.

So. Who do you want to be? Where will you find him?

For the over and over again you pay extra. Pay now.

Regret how much we ate and where and why.

And what it's called downtown.


we'll make it easy for you

Running from it once I devoted

This time to horrors I made

Inside her long sleeves. Painted

Them nervous yellow. Worn

Out at school. Was Mrs. Teagarden

An account of Mr. admiring himself.

Then the bike stood flat orange.

Then the backyard died in a way.

You should be ashamed. Or are.

Who was he and how did he know

I wasn't a poet. And it took me

This long to understand.


upon our receipt

If it seems yr no one

No where chalk it up

To yr being some one

Some how. Here &

Not satisfied. Not one

Word

Steps close enough to


So as

You toss up

A game

& shape confusion

Is some meat only

    there

        only then

Punching up the dirt


a dearth of kids named onan

If you (

this is one that always begins

'if you'

) accidentally get me to begin,

I get to go on for

a while about your good

eyes triceps kindness intelligence literature.

Then I get to forget

to berate myself for a lack

or such.

I'm not the impediment.

What you want may be a long soon

that nobody will ever get to.

I'm not going to forget to vote.

Because we get elected &

we get (to throw) poems

at the wheels of this (get this)

entourage. But you

you always got time to begin

with conditions while I

I step closer & grin toward

nothing just

the funny impersonal next.


this historic anthology

What do you know? A lot

Comes to the moment. We're

For history but who knows?

Bud, you know. The sky's an

Arrangement. Of shots. Epic

Off the cuff.

Let him say 'red green blue'

Then ask yourself to 'see' your own.

They'd be

        lighter than the masses

                    'd guess.

Portents aren't omens left out in the rain

But colorful intrusions. Smart stuff

From God knows where. Raisins.


next to a program of sacred music

It was for forgetting what any of it meant.

And I was. O there were plenty of lines.

There. And forgetting what it meant. I

Was a chasm a bowl of forgetting it.

Even in the fresh light of lots of lines.

What it meant among the dead or over

The past century or what it meant in my

Hobbled notebooks and letters. It forgot

For us with a proper enchantment or a

Nearly perfect silence. Full of lines like

You know. Not nothing but not hearsay

Either.


to be sending the boy home safe

We fixed an array of topics. The rain says. Finally

Content to understand we may be finished now

With dinner for folding apologies into breath.

A grinding reappears. Which articles do give us

Forgive us the most trouble. About Luxor about

The point. And the point is always Romance

In any of its humiliations. Take my hand.

Who pays for these wars. As any body at once

Arrives. Condenses all these pleasures into

The bits Being Modern has to comprehend. I

Told you I didn't get it but you didn't understand

This began with a violent thought. A thought of

Or about violence. It wasn't my violence. Which

Is lost but an other violence against a younger

Man. Some violence I'll own but not that. No.

Always changing back to the sense of it. Making

Us less certain and more practically cornered.

I'm staining my own ground and blushing for it.


more and more spent resemblance

Not knowing. A  squirrel in the street.

A squirrel in the middle.  Knowing a

Certain place. Who was never taught.

Understands the Stop sign Sun here.

Just as and so like. Some customers.

[insert pathetic anecdote then go on]

How anyone knows it without it was.

You know. Brought to their intentions.


if it weren't thunder or psychological

As one proponent of endings long lost. Here you are.

It was this consistently indeterminate reaching along.

Grounded in a simple fear. Like prose underdressed.

Fear that. Fear that in the moment someone turns him

Self into a bucket. Zelig, for instance. Into which any.

One goes in fear of love. As on to light's new end say


from a friend entirely carefully undone

I put  as words. There. I put you in them. Breath you are.

Pisspoor as if you'd made enoughmoney. So fill the time

With something.The gone light ought to tell you... & tried.

From the farther bells here comes a ruckus of truly birds.

You say this and sip the underlying conviviality of. I've a

Given while you can use. Use it or as an engine. Go on.

Scatter my comics all over the floor of the tent. Bugs there.

O Jimmy you got a big light trembling on your arm. O boy.

These thugs made of time. Put my words there. And you

In them. Prisoner full of dollars for not remembering me.