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February 2015
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June 2015

May 2015

an infelicity

nobody says an infelicity this doesn’t count
my point being

our unhappiness serves at table over tepid
plates of noodleness

are you and I bad words too
poorly aligned here

sure someone is unhappy out of sorts
counting the moments

to the great exhalation meaning not yet
but soon soon

if we’re lucky or before we die
one more crack

in the nervous purities I call the
way things are

or on a beach where say misery
angles for tenderness

as blue and finally unheroic as vast
stems of tulip-

minded history or in a blind car
in full sun


then he

turned every word over
to a line a splotch here and
here

the picture’s timeless except in
its meanings utterly present not dumb
as marked

still you do want sense I do
I do sense want still

along the seed-path to
many deaths many births I said

drink water it’s never
the same solution as thought
not

conjured as product of
the single roaring whoosh
of an engine

onward as back and forth
just say this and cloud-gaze
along

while the country goes bloody
a long while then settles
into books and pictures

I’m finally the prince
who came out
grinning

suddenly not picturesque as a glass-
broken sparrow inartful corpse
crammed with fact