wanna learn

I'd a went with him just to see

just to see the scary sun go down

I'd a went a million ways to see

the sun go down just go on down


I seen a hole a thousand days ago

set up all night a lonesome gate

I seen stars gone from their looks

gone out all night gone for the dark


this northern gloom

An expansive notion arrives just as a whim toward lunch nudges

it out. Begone.


A word pitches

but nobody's bought the heart-scuppered solution. A long way to Yet.


As an afterthought is high enough the current shudders calf-like

for God-effect.


A stable fact

to restore any combination. Turn softly through the winter stones.


some coffee later

after those eternal themes
renegades of images invasions
                        too much to say but then
 
for a pop singer an illusion
nobody wanted to talk about
                        what can we do now it's kinda
 
first love absurd democracy 
the place took our shoes to
                        a slightly snown soreness
 
an opening unlike expression
I'm sorry there are no pianos
                        in this room

 


long later we

put words on the world to keep us Safe

when The Mundane's an electrical wire the edge of a page
as text read you and it meant you know

it stills or stirs desire
a soup of Ideas an advantage in epochs of eating

the light of it looking at things knowing tokens
knowledgable daylight with a tortured con-

clearly I was not paying attention I was paying
the night for what had gone missing in the day

no tarot for me no guess no song no sure way


even so

to have failed to become
right-minded/  a person
 
not good enough / i don't mean the poems/
i mean/ broken in a basic way
 
it could begin I'm walking
or end just like that/ I'm walking
 
or toward / a tree
not me not wrong/ in uncountable ways

the next poem

how it's reluctant babbling auxiliary

not original the convention suspects

having had some moments kiss or say

his face jammed into his face goes on

unstigmatised unendurable and piney

I been to school too you can tell in

I put the tuba down picked up shovel

settled for shameful helpful routine

not original and corroded by spring

in a small neat hand saying 'a very'

good instance of self perpetuating

'a very' unsteady boundary of sense


no rush

In inches obscurely

on fences a guest

pokes along slowly


seems to end it then

digs to go on


pneumatic dumpster tunes


or consider these 'special perceptions'


to have guessed

he was among us


in pieces for good

 


or just like

like all at once
the kid squeals and then more

I'm older in a
milder and less offensive way

keep the portable
heater on high all day up to sleep

and do start
to include the category of the end

its consequence
a reality an end to this dreamtime

of too simple
diction abundant anarchic syntax for

a shallow heart


nine to go

Inside the mutter
the fateful disappearance

A fog you thought
a local farce a gibbous tune

There are enough
to go around taken all at once

This is the
reflection on a store window

Because I told you
and here I am telling you again

How many parts of speech
come around to selling children

All of our enthusiasm
for this notion that they are French

Taken apart at last
we found our snakes and bikes

This in its way
simplifies us in time


our new bugs

They'll go from here a little up-

ended. Whichever way the fog goes

they had it coming. A battery of

ends. There in disappointments or

in resenting our serious mentions.

Unbecoming a joke. I told you I'm

thus beat up. But you never got our

smashed bent and beautiful meeting.

You got no work to do. So creep.


say brave things

in case the lake is also the sky

over the lake are too many rules

in the matter of rules they wave

above a spirited fascist salute

and the sky takes its bloody time

more than a guest of the lake's

pure maturity more like a turn

more like a bloody good aeroplane


then maybe

the page        demanded
 
not as landscape
 
or clunk
 
                of air
 
down or through
 
I forget how     
 
for
 
lessons I forget
 
in 
 
boughs on a tough
 
wet
 
cosmos or guessing
 
which
 
leaves are good
 
histories 
 
                      bad