Thursday, December 29, 2011
seed 4 (ἐπιτάφιον)
a hypothetical surface of the earth he must have followed some glimmering instinct a citizen of the great universe to which he owed a growing allegiance as his understanding developed the imbalance of a goddess falling back on a bed of clay and stung by the sun he bathes in the wind on my bed brushes his teeth and his eyes open to the clear space in front of him
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
seed 3
song-making rumbling and descending putting lengths of torn tape on her stomach pleas for honesty found in Ian's loft wander like a cloud to the corners of the sea white hot electrocharged graffiti glyph barbs arcing around it like an atom maybe the essential atom (I saw in meditation)
Friday, December 23, 2011
seed 2
in the lean myrtle imagelessness is the small drift of rain on paper ready and concussed by dreams to begin the magic work turned towards itself which is the empty geoid pining toward the moon some remnant pleasant memories of dream girls from west or long-haired and loose perhaps just young
Thursday, December 22, 2011
seed 1
synesthetic ululating curtains caught the sun in such a way the room inhaled red then breathed out blue sowing seeds as early as I could that year everything in this life is holy like a wild bird in a wild egg you sang a song in your deep effulgence on the fire escape a source of craving when water is better but not as good
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Friday, December 9, 2011
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Gladstone
the cast above us revolves
its quiet no longer begun
the metal thieves have been warned
still one trashy night I circled,
the purling motors in conference
like rams breathing mist
then flew enraged, tandem
saw the big one screech
in the possum-filled night
it is the same but much more
the lobe-slowed voice blurs and
everything is thin
a glad thought freezes in steam
next door the blue furl
seen from down roller-girl hill
underlit in a halfwooded mind
maybe it will stay empty forever
where crickets slip from rain
THE DREAM IS ALIVE
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