At some tiny level there’s spontaneous disintegration of what’s on my mind until I find myself in a half-life where speech is material.


We do not impinge on feeling fine /

10 gallons of the Hirsch, please,
W/ the canonical crescent tartelle, ah..

A pipeline of debits operates across casual monotones.
Everyone’s direction shifts as our nervous system distorts

To emphasize changes in whose system this is over time..

‘I never make judgments about people I shoot.’
Poetry is politics hardening joy orbs.
A proposition (like this) is anxious. I guess

...what? This early
When you got up your speech was

Vibrating w/ a head cold, falling
Flattened onto note pads in 2 dimensional motes.

You and what you say disappear, gossip!
Motes are for controlling anger, how minds are read.
Beyond us, them, 4% atoms, tiny
wriggling strings; hidden, 22% of the tug —

dark and unknown predicates
fixated on procedure, a luscious, noiseless bond.

Not running, walking rapidly, I cross
the hall where the heat transfers ....

We can call it that
adding up the lead and lead time, eyes

open, moving, waiting, meaning
it but hardly tempted.

A rational effect? You and I can’t attempt it,
touching on our dual roles as we reradiate consensus.
Poison, anecdotes are a way of life. He had meant antidotes, composer in this case, not the narrator. One withdrew. They just seem wound up terribly in the same horology. One in the study, the other in the art.

He has to deposit deleted utterances in surface structure to get back to poison.

Then we can drive.
I promised you a ham for painting bombast, cremating all melody fonder.

That would be indoors at our place.

Until then
I’ll have you over when life and death crack lobes of automation...

Waiting for you know who,
I hope you’re feeling great. I’m not.
Sunshine recycles.

As we say only moments from now,
A proposition (like this) is politically cheap.

These guys (pols) are easy with a wry edge, they’re interested
In hyperkinesis, T notes
And cook dating!


Outdoors a muted roll call gathers under bright archways,
A hazard to paper aircraft taking off.

Um sure I guess.. Don’t know why we are in this automatic summation now or a few seconds from now after the transaction but before thinking about it, looking it over, with only a few elements incised to form solid bands reprieving vice versa.
Feminism has few forms of address —

A poem is..
Does it matter?
The more you put your finger on contradictions in spatial tensions
You wander out above your welcome in a retro retrospective..

Texting is not going anywhere deeply son.
Neo-cubism stinks, ruched with fart.
Wha’up? A fresh little hellcat video,
Hi impact tinctures, deep shadows and inaudible signs from a long history
I have felt your voice,
heard your drift —

One touch,
one orated note.

Sleep has more ideas for here and now
where everything is a right answer;
we made contact then for a time
inspired by my taking your sleep course.

No plan, we thought about speaking,
better than sleeping —

Watching you spin like sentience
“refined by distance” since that was the last of

casual contact \ spectacle,
putting my life together but keeping your drift ..
New contract. Deep linkage. Bigger venues. No stress. Percentages stay constant.
Here we are — stuck in two dimensions
out of four! eating sweat! Two washes.

We went over this. We saw five drafts. The 20-60 split seems generous given evils of the present. Funny, I may call you from your mobile device or redeem coupons of yours I crunched into origami. The music and I dream with you is another 20.
Barnstable is a manifest force of habit. A marriage ago it was my fault, it seems, you figure.
Talk, the walk, swingers bass fishing in the realty environs, first worlds we heat up, stay young at the edge of yet I still have cheques.

When we struck an alliance back home right after the start I thought, friend or not? It’s no way to begin altho ultimatums were rephrased and moral aspirations became footloose and incontestable as Seven Bagatelles.
“..looking far ahead was fantastic, a civilizing process added to eternal space
Filling our eyes with unmeasured disassociation.”


There’s a cloying aspect when able bodies gather to
phenotype, we have to polish our devices.

Each of us a stairwell math set
to snap out of going off reckless & naked yet
shooting for triumph.
Nah. It’s probably just a major fuck up.


Today’s arm band chafes. 100 months ago
it’s Arvo Pärt chafing:
& oblique like you, insipid defiance groaned out, hardly credulous,
It began as parallel futures on a projective plane,
Why move into the crash test?
Why go there without force: When we rehearsed this,
it made no language difference what we
believe, what the soul is.

But I’m done in by grief and American English.
I’m maundering without a commodity or form;
structurally I’m inside hypotheses
to mottle or disengage hierarchal bravado, and I can’t go on
without a preamble — an episode in "possibly local slippery conditions."

Before Schuyler, tall stars were accreting, my yeh —
Viewing rain twisting, “tensile lines,” I wave back, s’up?
We’re at the prelims of average theory
and heights now and whose momentum?
I forget what really and concretely mean to nature.
My post values are so skewed I forget William Blake.
I forget historicism.
I forget the Kennedys and the Dead Kennedys.
It’s the same when I’m wearing fangs
I work in the market.
I ran from information, bracing for a selloff.
Consequences, real overhead

And limits next. Back in a moment.
I can’t stop it’s my job.
Our partners shiny then fallen, with grey streaks.
Huh? Fired up in smoke flames ideal sparks glow,
A red moon indispensable for smearing the made light
In a tiered border-like scrawl.


Youth trends...
Fast development, now nothing.
What’s my business? Aperture systems (slow students in acquisition) led me to holding
These volatility models from tv, vocalism in a sense.
Hidden risks lift weights (merge accounts request).
CVS photo counter. I know him, he knows me, I admire him, he back.
Instructions (making up circumstances) are errands; I’m my own boss.
English language trends...
We can’t compress enough or too much. We were one people at one time.
also =
a glistening database advanced by textuality. The underground =
abstractions and collisions within a dominant tribal identity.
ID traces out how to refine / displace any remnant of contempt.
Classification adjoined by adaptation passed thru descendants.
This break and entry taking place under a balloon holding our beef jerky.
A note: to John W,
Illusory a
-utomatism maintains a low balance outdoors evolving anonymous pretexts amounting to near
zero, a
large zero, derived from sweet metaphors for punishing discourse. A
nonetheless graceful concealment provides fractions that go free within our known physics,
demeaning no value and a
variable either way.

Watched watching.
One models language as living matter re-involving impulsive energy that courses through particles of appropriated intellect, especially given appearances and given language itself. I might call this synthetic transmutation of intelligence if it were just that, if poetry weren’t folk history of subjugate procedure.
I’m new to housewarming.
That’s why we have two arrays for time & harmony.
Can waving time like the prize ‘crown’ of contradictions
supersede nature,
a piece of research asks: Why open
atoms under nth dimensional rhetoric only?
Not quite a theory, it’s string conjecture.
Intimation, insinuation, innuendo.
Then it was something I ate.
Cocktail wieners.
Kids love them!
Peel’em back and throw your knives.
A (s)he-mind’s pill for song and dance is so! long overdue.


For the seraphim it’s highly readable to a point.
The 13th century dealt supremacists,
All morning, day, it never ends;
Our participation per chance — an 18th century
Add-on, an
Earthbound generality swallowed / over cooked

.. The sun is solid — once that was the word — a good deal of democracy beyond
words turning into toasty spoors — deconstruction at last! hardly
These data waving in rocks of sunlight, gaunt & obese
Blowing cold.

I don’t know what they are
Or what they’re doing, but even they seem appalled.
Let’s now prescribe an observance of justice
for each game, any obvious bravery.

Let’s is an imperative like make a muscle when referring to me.
A source of bravado was not sad. Separation from the source is.

A magnificent evening can be given to no thought.
This or any separation we call the blues, shyness,
meaning frame and ligaments hold feeling, no source.
Feeling is not sad. One votes sadly.
We fail to clarify after political glamor there’s poli rant along with new protocol (old manners) watched over, even policed nightly — many topics in mind so a few words take on character, a wince, a tilt of hat.

Current government gives a glimpse into events shaping war or “The Owl and the Nightingale.”

The passive voice was made for you to prove your anger; propositional semantics =

key [snap] decisions, arguments, further jibes, shaming within a sub-class of invective, a face-off to persuade waverers; Julius Caesar, Juliet, “Much Ado About Nothing,” “Battle of Maldon,” where Saxon to Welsh sat on decline benches, threw slurs across the Blackwater banks, add flytings of Skalds of Old Norse in Simone’s Droplaugarsona Saga, as well as the Scot Dunbar et al, “Montgomerie et Polmart,” plus vomitous insult at one another from Middle Normans freezing progress for the Republic of the Nightingale.

It’s closeness ahead shaped by time gone just like that.
The 10 impulses exist.
W. Stevens would and did think they’re cut down to stubs on his land. Hardly by design we open our front door and see what politics didn’t do. The shortest walk ignited by havoc, honest, exhausted people — from it’s-not-the-same-now to the refined science of chaos celebrity — the betrayal of stubs is addictive.

That insight gives one the strength to make oneself at home, stay there, ameliorating.
I’m learning squat
until you get home.


I will never betray metaphysics oxidizing beauty goals.

The main thing is to tell a story. It is almost very important.

— Frank O’Hara — et al.

Composing like this focuses on writers, how they are surrounded. Focus is prewriting.

China’s thinkers are not unique in this tradition. Their transmissions help in resizing one’s ego in the scheme. We see they are seeing. Tell me how you will avoid what they say?

I’m taking comfort to be close to you
eating the Pope’s fiddle leaf figs and the Queen’s grapes.
Ode: I’m sleep.
An only hill
I’ve been searching
Awake most nights:

A clean face in the morning − caped
W/ sounds. Sounds caped w/ light, the best.

Dogs in woods by the ocean
Together, like them and like us,
Can you fill in the stillness?
Keep an eye out, the ocean over?

Repeat this so it’s approved,
“I don’t know about you”
But in a tone more affirmative
Like the jeweler’s words for whale
-bone / in measured blues − all the while

This stretch, like all comebacks, tells a story dropping hints of a larger, open-minded we-don’t-know − was it something to do with the singer to one side, blocking another?

Do we lead a life another sings with you?
The mailbox happens. A man’s voice, game, calm, also nervous. Protecting a sleep-laden vessel of dreams threatens it. Everyone knows we are never better aligned at night.
Scraps and parts of rope out of here..

Nesting austerity is neatly poetic, dignity eating.

I bet in the future we have no mail from here
and now. We’ll be on site.
When you tear down walls in ink you find your living partner. He. She’s (2) a (social) creature,

capable of more compulsive communication, traveling in large mobs or schools.

Well, 2 out of 3 did.

It read it hardly knows beams and walls.
And will never know you. I’ll give you a call.
Woman, my dream
is to be a professional writer.

You. Are. Shit. Ahem.
(A con.) Another w/ dog dyes her hair gem red.
We leveraged arbitration groups, remiss ..
How long .. well?

I agree. To be reviewed is to be published.
Teaching can’t be taught. I’ll ..

Let me pull an invisible
to the eye hair off your blouse to increase the breed (1).
Copy: Drink to one’s health & bicameral madness
As sugar consumption skyrockets. O Canada


Father writes, Linked phrases run through the a’s, b’s, c’s and so on, but a-phrases, again, often point to the composition (the kind I am).

B-wise, my creativity
is not wasted in remorse.
What I owe: I know
almost and almost lost,
unfinished, in everything. For the c’s
I moved along a scratchy plain
of dandelions, peony, clover:
checked for snags of fern, fir,
and the only woman nodded: Oh yes
It’s only your newness:

and I see the form
as I fill in the questionnaire
putting my back into it.
If you know rhetoric
it changes your feelings;
it changes others’ behavior,
especially in poetry.

Your poetry changes
your writing now,
the one you’re reading at another
time coming now.
Benji, you’re strange again. We’ve decided to beat it out of you.
Say something. We’ve lost your spirit and pulse.
Cal Tech outsmarts Harvard. Colgate is a better ‘deal’ than either.
Tod’s loafers beat Weejuns. Sure.
MoMA in the original shifted genealogy, different periods of shifts changing contexts for us; we were both wearing black Lacostes.
To paraphrase ... you can’t predict
Say when nothing is wrong
What is the considered argument

For missing stairs...


His haiku was stiff: full, bel canto, with a slight

Vocal member of the Southern Illinois Cultural

Studies group carrying a sawed off

Something’s wrong with skylines.
I was just saying
Any plateau shows why.
But here’s proof to diffuse in a few and twist everything
I say, A muddled cool, ah I’ve
...I think you said that, and made it new perspectives

Of immense sadness achieved exclusively thru flattery
Muddled cool then calculates grandiosity, no shine.

Of course there’s a plainer cool to try,
An infancy — paraphrasing Stein, the same age inside — no name... an
Authentic vantage w/in voice matter
Running everywhere

As tho helium released great vowels sponged w/ saliva and
You wake up cartoon-lean — Inconceivable the sky’s angled, swerve-y
— Ah, turns out not badly!
Anyway hipster
is a contradiction in terms.
In terms a shortcut to prediction.
Unilaterally a hipster

throws out softballs,

variously literal — the power

system (it’s decentralized) semi

managed as yoga

mounting a bait

and switch to chalk up

the utility of lingerie,

discreet shipping, and in
this case it won’t be serene.

The enlightened instant comes
to how this can be put together
surely, entirely.
Parable’s silver brown hair is replacing blond streaks, according to a flier.
I picked up in the same place my soul is a hypothesis. A blowfish out of water surfing coastal states to destroy her wiggly self. Since we live in new enterprises and ecologies, we begged her to learn to swim further and stick with a nearly sublime topic, to rally for more than this textual ceramic holding Beethoven in C flat helpless.
Just all right, try
soundboards, acoustic bass, acoustic chemistry turning out scribbled freshness for contraltos breaking glass over car hoods to drown out the dog track —

It’s no single fool’s doing, making it easier to borrow. Clenching-tight

I’m sorry so sorry — Can you sing that?
I hope you enjoy your kind together.


Song: This isn’t a black or white issue.
Someday I will have a pomegranate thermostat.
It won’t be torture unless it causes organ failure.
I still think in poem titles.
I can’t postpone it.
A tongue in his ear driving noise into a lost history of pioneers and ‘kissin’ cousins in lines of duty. It’s quantified; what does that mean?

The two-man cabin five flights down.

Sleeping with you, I’m blackmailed looking for a mnemonic to store in a palindrome.

In order to pass thru there’ll be at least a few minutes of interesting, then more of inter-interesting.

The oasis filled w/ triangles, throats & you Poe!
volatility weighed, vibrato banshee-d.
As ‘you make a profit, remind yourself...’
the president’s brain is said to resemble Chuck Norris. Interesting
esthetic, not fatal — Chuck had a punning bone, also merciless. Really
his movies remind me of tin futures & allegiance to the ice
ants swarming as mind controllers sidle away —
The earth is not the earth but has strength and balance and Duma
unanimity. Each winter corrupts the exterior.... hackers like poplars attaining their
ultra field and stream, doing a job shunned by most, showered with tips.
Falsehood is an actuarial stat, one anto
-nyms assimilate. I haven’t said anything


A ballerina crosses Walnut St. Can you believe her silhouette pressed against anyone who doesn’t dance. Visceral surprise! A purged rhetorician acquires correspondence, verbal equivalence to her process repertoire.
The Conservatory’s always nothing much minus common sense, coming out to play, sampling
the masked hostility and indecisiveness of national honor

and backing it up with inexact and multiple scents of feeling, sounds
from what we were doing before [give me one second..] took hold,
instantly recognized as identity.

Identity and hardened m.o.’s from silences, retakes,
and feral scents of feeling cornered in a feral feeling piano lesson.

(I forgot to send this.)
I welcome myself to your studio of secrets, shaman.
One tattered ego observing very little sweetness.