Uncategorized

> It’s been so long since Time has escaped into loss watching everything from a priori eyes, he’s free of course, to bolt when the guard ducks beside the  bush to bust high scores in tetris, which, bloodshot, he frequently does.  Time tells monster stories, Time sucks at Marlboro 100s, Time eats red meat until its…

>KING PHILIP:  It likes us well; young princes, close your hands.-Shakespeare, King John II how well and noble to drinkfrom these rough cupped handsfar ferried of, she rethinksill from foreign sandsthis stiff and sour cureher painted lips tilted towardwarm tongue, numb tonguein rush, and rush again, the breath rewardspendant lung, expanding lungher atrophied detour.

>On reading Jonathan Franzen’s ‘Freedom’, p121-127 (From a very early point in the novel, the author makes the “good guy” very complicit in the innocuous “bad thing” that leads to the small cacophony propelling our love of the characters. We are ultimately redeemed ONLY should these small transgressions occur, but in retrospect, in retelling, in…

>from the cervical curvehoisted by a hooktoward fresh air casting through wavesof uncounted sand pitsto catch biological blips but hopelessness all therethe eyes perceive falling.

>so many things acheat just the right moment perhaps this is your cluepeer deeper, but crawl first to the edge of timeswing out your head then weakly it boils, the mirrornothing more, pale magic each churning growl a clawa shriek, then a bark nearer play thankful, some distance soon cleareri cannot push, i will never…

>you can or cannotworry about the slateof your children, rainunderfoot ten-toed traila creeping crack run throughwith bold weedsinterrupting shapethen bigger, then shodfinally too weak to tampthe overwhelming greenagain, on your knees.

>Please. Keep close, the best part’s almost here. ( its anatomy: fearful & round blossoms from, replant redolent dead sordid bunch watches the weather & peels hopeless basketweaver emerge berried handfuls mixed with sweat, though lash branded skin in one motion strips reveals a crosshatched plain of sweet. fearful from the weather of the bundle…

>

>

>Sometimes, memoryis calling what is not:broken series, theunashamed oakpeppermill, orsyncopation: alla thing & not-thing. There we areat the shoreof ourselvesgetting readyto swim.