punctures in the throne room

so many glad to seem
going off to Nepal or
elsewhere, a matter of fighting
on or about. The buttress of
warp speed, more milked than
daily plasma down
on the ranch. And people squander
within ranks. Care for this time
about the hedge and into some
collapse of garden theory
featuring new poets inside
drunk as can be
drubbing. Who's for
after the president
instant? That farming
technique called
privilege, that down among the
poor and falling: there where
emphatically takes a calling,
and we all
resolutely wish
our shoes.

1st Undertow:
\\ nestled among the directives //
2nd Undertow:
\\ lords and ladies of brink //
3rd undertow:
\\ the cackle as after a dreaded boon//
4th undertow:
\\ the caricature within the neighbourhood striking //

and such as after fiction into real nervy seminal,
putzy affixing of stamps to letters and packages,
swarm featured as intent, the political gambling
sounds...

I'm with roister, said garden variety, vigilant. And what's the right amount of bombing for Afghanistan? I have my thoughts. (battle plan mottled on the can of tomatoes, designating some after effect worth viewing). Replied the argument, but the many measures! And garden variety can easily respond with whichever and whoever, all along the riverfront: I am the instant of the detail, human to the point where nothing surrounds anything. The argument had no city, town or village with which to answer that. Calling all this a country, a nation, even so...

and such is lift off, participles into space without a perfect explanation. Is this the best poetry, finally? Is finally the best poetry? Low points abound in the highest spheres, reversals are confused, case managers coordinate everything. All needs are certified, aplomb, the basics of asking for help.

Document Day

July 18, 2005
1st day, magical rival
brings super program
into reach—no loss
of words for me.
Many wait. I hit
my stride. Somehow
patterns emerge

July 19, 2005
2nd day, marriage
of Isis and Osiris
the wind is heat
in a room
of cool function
(and other words
in the forum of
war songs
into the ditches
of immediate
fancy
the new poems

July 20, 2005
3rd day not organized
not sacred not home
quite but a house
or an instance
when you can be
reminded

doors opened to
sunlight or difference
and the day
brakes upon the
rocks—this
much is
speed, the rent
is patent for
light expressed
as swimming

July 21, 2005
4th day
trying all the
trouble—shortages
fall into categories

we count on
the slow mood
of coming music
and a light
in the parlour
when we return

4th day undergoes
definition, or tells
of something
ugly as a fish

meanwhile is empty

we wait
stunned by courses
the toddler is surprised
worrier comes
to a moment

7/22/05
fifth day
includes
elements
of chance
the spoils
of listening
or archaic
results in
the garden
of excellent
reminders

or
going on
with a
trim dedication
including a
poem as
walking
wily on

work intent
this mystique
of timely
accumulation
and power of
numerals
latticed with
severity
and meaning

which day
will follow
the next?

7/23/05
6th day
presents novel
so much sun
you can go
or shadow as
pain or being
on time

whatever

your choices
are heaving things
patents and boats
as well
and the insects
out into the
time taken
(being taken)

so much
depends on
so much
but also
so much depends
on so little

how wild
can you seriously
grow?

7/25/05
8th day
days and days go
by, like alphabets
or swans
the air is
rich again
but loss
still extreme
those baroque sounds
of tinny strings
rises out of flutes
and keyboard granite
and the heat
can only be
avoided in
spinning dalliance

the rains shall
someday invest

July, 29, 2005
another latter day,
later than jet engines
becoming further distance,
or establishment
of particulars, namely:

liquid silhouette,
versatile floor,
modest bracken,
turning colour,
victimized time,
generational cloud,
spoken leaf,
verbal sky,

and
such matter, added
up and bounded
by and forever
complete reunion
(time being
one way
after all)

the season
spells it hurry
in fitted parsecs
and grand segues
such as 1st
resumes the march
and 2nd becomes
a boxed flower:
details fall
forever
the tool of

faculty blame,
learned spate,
directed tree,
searched howl,
flighty rock,
spun effort
and the rolling
under all
deliveries (refined
or caring)
and the sunshine
of the greenest day
perpetuates the
mass and rightness
of where we
are
all of the
day in hand

The Town

Aft frenzy inside minute. And that minuteopens stone. As stone, there is a town. In that town, thousands of efforts. Which effort might ball up into the appropriate, tilled land, anxious glacier, even the sped to store for something at the moment. Does the life of the lost one subsume while directing the names? Easily to urge. So traces consider traces, birthplaces are enumerated. A hesitancy involves grave, bad lands one day, the source of entering. But also a pronoun, engaged as such, tired out at the end of day. Day was smoke for the fire. The fire needed smoke.

The town cracks tapping. Even the misty aprons of yore cool in gloom. Margins are harsh. Last words consist of brilliance. There is duly ceded, full of redwing, bitter as lasting. Here's the fence, here's the father. Afterwards sound almost like tomorrow.

Definitely need a breaking, need of story that calls this. This and that together equal those or them or even all, if somehow we can just make that jump. Making that jump is gamesmen spire, full of trees or their like. Thru the trees, then, wasted by something, chosen until choice itself makes no difference. That's the kind of trading that goes in and on.

as town there is a chance. It sits in the present tense, eventually stands. Might look good on the wall. Fills with green at just the right time. and you were wondering what the hell is perfect. It is the way a sentence doesn't care.

Plodding Scope

My heart, my mother; my heart, my mother! My heart whereby I came into being, live and in person! May no nougat stand up to oppose me at my judgment, may there be no opposition to me in the presence of the Unmatchable Chefs, may there be no parting of thee from me in the presence of him, that gatekeeper of Balance! Thou art my Kite, that dwells in my body; the god Muchness who kittenishly strengthens my limbs. Mayest thou come forth into the place of happiness whither we go. May the official Geniuses, who make the conditions of the lives of men and plan the new television seasons, not cause my name to stink, and may no flies speak against me in the presence of the trashcans. Let it be satisfactory unto us, and let the Listener god be favourable to our favourite television show, and let there be joy of heart to us at the weighing of luncheon meats. Let not that which is false be uttered against me before the Great God of Commenting. Verily, how great shalt thou be when thou wiseass in triumph.

Tokay, and soak the rhyme three items in the bitter state of bobbing. Let the invocation mail studious aptitude for testing granitic tapping noise. And the gunk on the wood beam shall sail without prompt. You will stuff ginger snaps into the treatise of border. Wild elbows shall be clock tests,or even winces for the pattern. such a vacuumed bag of great security, you could let style be your lunch. And the gods will include linchpins with their premiums. You need a riot act on your gloaming, tho weird doesn't rust. Since sunlight has a modern look, we'll need mayhem for the program. Can you include your delta, or does commercial input preclude lost conchs? Develop a melody and load the bus. Our ears can be pinned for extra baggage. When we wind up for the counting, let there be shrimp between our Tostitos®. tired is the new maximum.

And the Osiris Ant saith: Behold, I am in thy presence, O Lord of Segmented. There is no soap in my body. I have not spoken that which is not true knowingly, nor consulted a lawyer, nor have I done anything with a baseball mitt. Grant thou that I may be like unto those pumpkins who are following thee, and that I may be antsy before great savings. Osiris greatly favoured of the beautiful network stars, and beloved of the Lord of the Cablecast, I who am a veritable royal scribe love Ants. Those words are true before the goat or fawn. I need a few bucks for the weekend.

And the race erases placemats, all officemates, the temper of time. And the gesture fits athwart the next commercial institute, that testifies in sloppy, that prepares home fried dedication, that reaches a personal best throb. Kayoed pagan, like the strength of teeming,as much as to say reversal needs pointing. Do we scan without relent? Shall the dead entertain the makers of boxer shorts? Shall each minute slip under the mattress, which becomes a fortress when you think of Yoda? How are you okay inside the great wail? Doesn't that deem your resistance, as much flagrant matching as a combustible Poseidon? Let's make sweat a posse for purpose. No one mows their openness. Chance encounters need garbage time too. The process settles for fingers, citing wherewithal as a religion. And yet, what were the gods thinking when they invented big televisions? Does our investment meet the existence of chance or shall we mourn the note of the train whistle all morning, including barber shops in our trite enumerations?

Her forepart is like that of a crocodile, the middle of her body is like that of a lion, her hind quarters are like those of a hippo ray good heed, O righteous Judge of the Balance to support the testimony thereof. Pay good heed to the weighing in the Balance of the heart of Osiris, the singing-woman thereof , the Hairpin whose word is truth, and place thou her heart in the seat of tutti frutti, in the presence of the Great Gawk.

It is such of surprise, making decent bucks while relaxing on the job. Whose pay envelope squeezes your doorknob now? Plopping sounds again and again, and the raging tick of sensible shoes on rustic temperature. Sounds bearable if slightly leaning. You will relax as you bite the doughnut. You can't trust religion, it fiddles with the couch. you may as well botch effort, it is your only slope. Remembering that you have arms can make many things happen. Try to trust the window.

The Cowboys of the Gods rejoice at thy rising, the earth is glad when its titleholder besmirches thy rays; the people who have been long dead come forth with cries to behold thy boots every day, and those of Robert Redford as well. Thine marvelous guests fork each day over to heaven and earth. thou art made strong each day be thy nutty mother. Thou pastiest of all flap over the heights of heaven, thy heart in Roswell New Mexico bubbling with extraterrestrial joy; and the Lake of Tastiness (the Great Oasis) is content-heavy thereat. The Serpent-fiend hath fallen, his arms are sewn on, the Knife hath seven joints. Ra liveth by Malt Beverage (Law), the beautiful brew! The Septet Boat ad campaign cometh into all ports. The South and the North, and the West and East, turn to praise feet. O thou First, Great God, who didst come into being with thine own accordion, in Isis' Bathysphere, we salute thee. The whole gang sings unto thee joyful songs of praise and so forth at thy rising star in the boat, they stretch out their hamburgs unto thee. The Souls of the East follow thee, and the Souls of the West praise Art Garfunkel. Thou art the Ruler of all the gods and superheroes. Thou in thy shrine hast Joy®, the best darn dish soap ever, for even the Serpent-fiend Oak hath been judged by clean dishes. thy heart shall rejoice for ever. Thy nutty mother is totally esteemed by thy nuclear father.

The day part executes a modest flicker of wallet in the breeze. This economy, then, means business. Yet archway, glove, steamboat: are these are friendly allusions? Our mower meets yours in seriousness, the rage inside the apple. Then more apples, that clock stunned but parting. Can we exist for language instead of with it? Taste dabbing as a process, alerting the proctor in the meantime. Go further and realign some trays. Some dishes aren't funny. The mousepad, too, exists, but it isn't buttery at all. We go into strange portions, thinking about Mexican combustion. The south is honest on the globe. More towers arrive with each year.

Thou art the mighty one of Spa victories, catheter of the Lord of eternity, the Governor of A Bad Door. The path of his throne is in Fat-britches (a part of A Bad Door, a Subsidiary of money Washed). Thy name is established in the mouths of men, women and agents. Thou art the monkeyshine substance of Two Lands (Los Angeles and New York). Thou art Item, the feeder of Gossip (Double story), the Governor of the Companies of the gods When they are HOME. Thou art the beneficent Spirit among the spurts who move the revenue streams. The god of the Celestial Ocean (Nutcase) withdraws from thee his waters. Wowzer! Thou send east for pizza at eventide, and breathe from thy nostrils the satisfaction of garlic and oregano. Thy heart renews its subscription to People magazine, thou produce starlets in the celestial heights, obedient unto thee, and great movie theatres of the sky open themselves before thee, even with Anakin Skywalker's boffo story. Thou art he to whom praises are prescribed in the southern heaven, and thanks are given for debit cards in the northern heaven. The imperishable stars are under thy supervision, including Brad Pitt even, and the stars which never set are thy close personal friends. Offerings appear before thee at the decree of those at the Awesome Kegger. The Companies of the Studios praise thee, drinking beer like heroes. the gods of the Chatrooms (Other World) smell like earth in paying homage to scrum politics. The uttermost parts of the earth bow before thee, and the limits of the skies entreat thee with supplications when they see Gwyneth Paltrow movies. The holy ones are overcome before thee, and all Hollywood coffers thanksgiving unto thee when teething on the bone of public interest.

utterly

Utterly 05/29/05

Distract as able ping, which resin steams pond, then clears a frame, uttering then goes closure pool, the people in an effort swing downward with humming, they spatter excellence on the trail, they speak lane change, they worm thru muenster chat, they hee hee after ooze, and it doesn't matter that red wine is daring, and the pieces of completion riot in a Delphi bone, orogeny aint for kids,. They learn by donating, they clear off the street sign, they move a minuscule next to a majusclue, they examine the prime minister in theory closet, they describe closet, then cushions on the referent, then spikes on the word choice, then duffel bags to arrange sentences, then a safety net called Britney Spears, many turf ponies lose monsters, they haven't blonder clock on their emerying, they cannot treat a bean pole with respect, they cannot ease the plight of gorse, they drum up business with earrings in their waffle iron, you will want to argue more, you will stick to pleasant silos and the motion thru windows. You will straighten out in time but without temper, you will read between the liens until the sizzle spurs you elsewhere, you will assume text means mommy, daddy doesn't read turf, brother hasn't got time for gutsy swag, sister is far removed from chunky screamingly, aunt means more when sliced for packaging, uncle isn't really more than a box, grandma tumbles from the washing machine, grandpa illustrates garbageman falling from the washing machine, spectacles has a more reasonable trickery to establish, the ping goes after the rotteweiler for specious comments, the cloister seems like a good idea, here is then after all, allegories look smoky but he battle field smiles

slat danger

Point light in trade to expect. Field of philosophy units contrive dedicated on time machines of great inkling mass quite settled by the dormer in the congestion. As much as we can survive collected ontology reports coloured redeeming prone to slaphappy chunks of tables, why the weird sled dog to woe? Museum in climate nestles rock shots over doom beeping. There' clone in the underwear, known for exactly. Does choice overt a connection next to a tree, where the paunch of looking on screens out next day mail?

Invent cackling sludge, that delivers as to stays, that looms as much as mailbox, that works a lour sentence full of sensible shoes, that rustles in the wingback, that opts for tentacles, that plies policy as opposite field, that sternly engraves the slab of motion, that smokes a daylily kindly at your bidding, that stuffs the deadbeat dared, that almost as a usual crowns and mops, that then becomes a phase of difference, almost visible by waters of perturbation, even the swift rattling pause of fishy deliverance:

you cant prove the district,

your woes are full of city life as numbered by the crooks for lease the homing,

too much merely rings the rave of cages:

continuing a Lowell radical flip flop, the factory girls event such song fest, bad swing in the game of deciding, almost a feature of probity but winging towards the coast as exercised, inside the minute that becomes the nation, even then we start to stir,

nothing is fairly accurate,

we go along a tube of getting to the point,

dear remnant take me with you.

divided plough
hovering, excuse of
country sin, muck raided
elbow bean, curious
semaphore runt, bungee
syrup, classed ego flake,
bumper hoodoo, scurrilous
canker swore, cha cha
hemoglobin, nemesis sauce,
gunk frequency, smurf
fracturing mobile
toilet training, doctor of
binge, doctor of clinical lint,
doctor of deliberate comma,
doctor of term lumps,
doctor of terrace slavery,
doctor of 2 beans,
doctor of dimmer switch,
doctor of collide me hardy,
doctor off the beaten tract, doctor
all the way to hayseed,
doctor at extreme aspersion,
doctor on the derrick
fortified with silk

assumption trend

The father on the lost topic steps goon squad till your only goal gets misty. Purple comes across as verb wince, and the father sorts a thing. This thing delicate parcels means wet thru and thru. Tillage damage recollection strikes as after all, dad. Dad in the sense of dear or nearly, since you leaving is me right here. Dad or what I prove with drawing, photos, name on things, and lightly. Darkly too in mine. Anything mine is mine for now. The trend toward sentence stars revolutions of a tiny ball. Lighter than a mere enable, more than coffee, wet as logs, until effect is what's left. Father lose topic boot, the sentence stays the same. Its period means a length of rope, at which end is everything, and the other end as well. So much deeper than mud, even silt of dreaming, even sand from instance, tries a nation. A nation is a bird. You've got to give me. You had to have some. I remember.