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January 2009
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March 2009

February 2009

in isolate accumulate release repeat

Not knowing what it wants. A red grape.

A green one. Then. A bowl of fat-free milk.

There should be a skulking cat. You say.

Still Life with red fish dead fowl flowers.

Crumbs. That's precisely it. Refusing to

Take responsibility sends up this bubbling.

Calling me at 2:23 a. m. and a querying.

Parts of the disciples. Chalk-lined q - q -

Quandariness. Standing in for any body.

ten unholy sentences

1. March my food to the killing floor, Doris.

2. Is it a lost or a friendly pulchritude?

3. Constancy in all your grievous habits, especially breathing.

4. Straightening the resumé sideways, he struggles to contain himself.

5. Humor his hysteria around her.

6. A subject so sorely lacks the organic matter to cook all morning.

7. I'm arranged for the reluctant.

8. Any one of these might suddenly wobble mythically.

9. I'm a range of reluctance.

10. I upend a margin and stick it to my foot.

are bad cats drowning etc. this morning

Affectations planted in dirty dawn.

Blasphemies under willing knees.

Causality tripling by the second.

Defiance an anchor. Our blues.

Easternity derivative of bloody oranges.

Formulaic in guided disorientations.

Given up at last. But one doesn't

Have to slander the poor kid's

Insufficient data. Decry like

Jesus our abandoned mineral deeps.

Knowledge goes pendulous here.

Lamp-like and useless reminders

More like houses than parks.

Nobody gets richer or thinner guarding

One or two precious texts. So

Peregrination! That's the ticket. Learn

Quickly the shuffle and dodge of

Robespierre. In history an atypical dolt.

Self-saturated as an elm in Spring.

There's poetry for you. So inconsequential

You call the tumbling archangel to

Verify its quasi-triumphal provenance.

What happens in the meantime seems

Exactly what's needed now.

You get a line of heroic romances.

Zipped. Not parsed. Not optional.

sound about a really gone for good

I'm sorry this is all I can do. I was forbidden

To go farther than Rocks in one direction

And Persons in the other. Not funny but true.

Without paper yr no one and no where which

Is inconvenient and sometimes fatal but

Not so bad when the western breeze says

Tell me yr daddy-name yr old story boxes

Yr fortune-teller jumble yr canniest delight.

and his speech to our conversation

A freshly pummeled. Sufficient complaint,

"So much Enough. The day's made of frosting.

Our standard overstuffed instant collapse

Of sweet release. Glob of starry nextness."

I say Turn left up a block that green ruin

Hey it's cakes all over the street. Some feast.

All Russian apples and steeds. Vast tundra

Of violent something. Of red stories

I'd been waiting & listening for all day.

for to be smart you need an emotional concern

I or none should be happening if we were

Selective. Give up you can only be doubtful.

There's some in the fridge for now. There's

Guessing for God. And for fingerpainting. I

Slightly near the end possess the wonder of

Whatever you got. We were carnies and had

Been used to thinking in larger units. "We

Put our hands together in a phony isolation

Booth. And thought" I should be happening in

None of these freezing consolations as one.

wholly-owned harshly and translation

I would pretend to give you advice toward happiness.

Take off your feet. Upend the geography of Difficulty.

Never feel a distant communication is usefully male.

In each of your tunics place a small green soldier.

Light up your anthropology. Guide the workers home.

I would you see renovate this pasture toward joyfulness.

now buy wine and milk without money

The lady with arugula slippers. A portrait

In one sound so. Shady craft. She smokes

Gauloises and condescends to scribble

Thank God it was you & not them, honey

I was gonna recommend the circular saw

Across our new coffee table in fingernail

Mimosa.  Pasted Graphic 1

There are these. Impulses.

Somewhere. Poetry

Voice is only voice.