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

for gods' sake

'if you take me away from my poems, I have nothing' Al renders Anne

the trunk is solid or the trunk sings a range or unbent burrows run


to live forever without reduction on a ledge toward beauty's anyone

without inflation in a box of cool solutions good movies end a vision


more like a thousand bowls than portraits or planet's thought-fed rain

'how many songs' sought the Uber sought a quick brown nut or a tune

 


a chinese roof

'everybody's thinking obeys' a hatchwork or chatwork of impulses

'god-given' say demon-driven survivors in SEDIMENT of sleep-waking

he's in grey fields she's involved with cattle he's full of paint

and still driving words to water in patience as a Taken not a Given


not so dangerous

Not likely. No secular poetry ever. But plenty of profanity.

'a process rather akin to dream-work' But then you'd always.

Cook it. Conjuring handles for your bikes and baskets. Say

there's a place out back. Then a strategy for getting into it.

Apart from a car. A honk without birds. And there you are.

With nothing to say to you again. As fist in face. Enjoyable

enough in its going forth on waves. Of unlikely moments. No.

'so you don't have to invent romantic myths diamond' mines

No. Just advance in the likely direction of your schemes. Go.


when you thought

There'd be surprising things in poems. We'd grin politely. Secretly

rise up in mist. Evaporate nicely. Go on.


Didn't you think I'd notice how you loved our new city. Sleepily. Gone

through towers to meadows to time. Not time.


More complicated conditions in this refurbished independence. I'm

found. Under a local bridge. Surprised. And by.


My incapacities go on. You'll drop by with or without pasta. We'll eat

from the bottom. And seriously. How wasn't I.


Could this be what Thanking arranges. A pleasant continuation. Some for

drinks some substance going on. Some How.


that in the dream we may avoid

Certainly too many said. Yes then for clearly. I've said so.

There's 'one in Love' taken several ways. You never know.

They (words, say) wander in. Some eat and go. Some stay.

To know what glory means. But a noun. Buy me breakfast.

A standard shifts to evenings without regret. To language.


As an auto or an orange. A guess or an architect or a gun.


meaning 'to melt'

'enjoy your walking time'     a 'modern' move         a clap a hand


a few parts     a line     simple in direction     ready         in place

correct yourself   but     the mess         we've made       in all this


holds         the train gone       the flight somewhere over     utah

 


we said we

Might be crap inspected and rejected for fertilizer. Some mistake in the makeup.

As if the universe could want something we have to give. Softly. We've been given.

A figure apart. No doubt. One of many. You'll want to feel how cool the room sits.

No moves the lines like happiness. As difficulty signs up for the dream to drop.


I like Four Eyes now and then It's curtains for you soon Doc says Bugs. Drink up.

Go quiet a way. How left from right produces some new jazz not everyone can swill.

How close we close will set how high we heave to follow through in depth of deeps.

Rejected for every good reason mistakes carry honest weight in solemn assembly.


The problem in his whistling nonentities. Something for a loss of substance a diet.

Set long ago without a dictionary. While the world you know the whole round world.

Registers wonder in sinless pine, locust, redbud, cottonwood, aspen, oak. All one.

Stews in the juices we squoze for comfort. Unbought back. Or's too late to deviate.


song lacking principles

then too bluntly how about "the problem is always the same"

The problem approaches from the street or from a cloud Guess

who's got the shakes at sea like any sane person Wasn't you

the guy who stood off & sputtered the sky the god the pain

and was getting it right as far as we knew Who sat untroubled

served the lines until they shrunk & so left the armed forces

alone to score them selfs & make up broken dark'nings unread

This wasn't a problem so long as we could read summer a song

about tangling in our salted wind-making parts Feel wholes &

sanities coming through long-trafficked patterns of hoping us

onto lakes & plains Wide fastened rugs of light as understood


you don't know

O feelings my Feelings oh my feelings
 
I get you in I get you in The Ideal in 
 
Chicago sitting abundantly in tiny rooms
 
I get you in Justice in Penance & Terrible
 
Explanations I get you in a vincible ruin
 
not unlike something you need to remember
 
the day we drove I get you in 3-D in grass
 
Oh feelings I get you in the left lanes or
 
Chased by The Dramatic I get you in that
 
lounging 
 
                    Did you remember I got you in 
 
those funny books like The Nearly Modern
 
An Idea We Got In China The New Thank You
 
and Really Living Lately 
 
                                                I get you in how
 
you look up & sort of step away from the
 
most friendly images 
 
                                         You take ordinary
 
steps strangely 
 
                            or I don't like it so much
 
anymore 
 
                    oh feelings up on the bridge I get
 
to watch you 
 
                        & get to stumble     with you
 
now bird-like 
 
                          now trivial & lost in 
 
breath 
 
                a pinch         
 
 
 

headless again

Reading slower and slowed the new thing

to a brain and its hands fresh tense stories

it'll all disappear


Casting up the forces tells a good thing

out toward the brain slowly to read us aghast

we'll all disappear


or disappear as if reading a book slowly

It's a common casting for swindler's pearls

this thing at last


or words given reading burn like tongues

or likelihoods of nouns in series like trouble

eventually all disappear


and yet

the left over

go on awhile and on.