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February 2010
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April 2010

March 2010

new angel for the flaming sword

Actually, in this

daydreaming as a

life that turns

out to have

been a cupboard,

a little man

with rolling baggage

and one yellow

tote sings good.

He's worth an

arborist's time.

Now, as if

he's stopped handling

things of value—

now—how could

his hands unfurl

a tree? How?

careful not to interupt the series

I'd been the rule and counting on lunch

to reframe my parabola. So blessings on

this Larouchista outside the Oakland PO.

IMPEACH OBAMA. Blessings on the rule I

count on for lunch. The voices below. A

mass grave in between blessings. A knot

needs a sharp scissors sometimes. Bless

the knot. Bless the scissors. The fears

I might not make it to lunch ungrounded

by actual daylight just a standing glass

watching the tiny slope where birds used

squirrels. Used them badly. And laughed.

My rule for that consists of shutting up.

in a matter of historical fact

Truth is that words never did much then in the way of saying

something about the real going on. They settled down beside the

lake of the point. They resolved to watch kids in powerboats and

one nondescript from this distance guy in a rowboat fishing for

his own point no doubt. And always the watery motions hardly

ever waves unless by storm or motorboats. And of course birds

of many kinds who seem to enjoy the taller trees as much as the

lower ones. Whatever it would be would have to happen in this

moment on top of sentences finishing themselves and full-grown

of stray crows and airplanes admiring the snow the stone walls

this place composed in lieu of lakes and actual mountaintops.