create many named grasses in seaweed and mussel and among their publications and publishers lecania hutchinsiae et al and the mussels of miss ellen’s garden who? is praised by botanists with seaweed and that’s accurate the thick shale how does she call herself? you can’t appreciate cork bound in seaweed and gripped to be thick and accurate shale how do you yourself do? can you do? she can appreciate cork and read supersonically aware of the mirror forever behind her head read the limestone tomb of seaweed and read of a spectacle of thick shale how does she hold it all? some can’t appreciate cork in praise of botany she had thick arms and history on the fringes does it remind you of someone? cladophora hutchinsiae? how do you do? must you yourself climb what must be? or just or just or just
disaster hammers
choice
diving into memory’s wreck
reveals god an addict
produce and improve
think and civil war
come you groundbreaker
annual depending flashes of green tumble
the fruiting lift of its time
prisms individual residents
hole up at the corymb mall
the follow-up between younger pews
saint george slays
a spray of arboreal math
saint matt jolts his subjects
this isn’t the god damned lottery
in some countries hair
pilcrow blossom falls
she is you remember that
a good husband avoids
a cross
time bothers neither alluvial husband nor empire
husband nor backwoods
husband
nor line them up on my own thread
across
time
i return to my
collapsing honey-clings to my
life my wife that white refusee there and not
the first time staring beautiful you said a fistful
of memories you covetously
having
never
been inside
my mind
9.4% alc/vol my lips do not behave
like the good husband nor the quiet car
away from the
aerosol
kudzu
that honey-pillow goddess pun
“Maybe you have to be from there to hear it sing” C.D. Wright
a bell
long ago
rung in fear
one with
a thousand
jumps
a great poem can be
wild nectar or a great poem
can be scrubbed from the timeline
from
by whom? his moaning
to be
how i assume
you didn't choose what
you'd surreptitiously strike
one perfect choice what'd you
have to not say
about the young plants
the end so wild
so abandoned of cherry blossom
not the wild plants with a thousand-word long line
and this morning i'm unable
to plant anything lovely
a cypher as if long ago the bell was rung
in a dark mossy room
ducks in marshland jump
into the air and crash
a great poem can be removed with buck
and jump a great poetry book should be
wild never hit one perfect cherry blossom
if by cherry blossom you mean sells well
every day i taste a man my poem
can be how it is assumed you'd never
choose what you'd never hit one
perfect choice nectar of the therapist
the tended-to plants present wild nectar
with both hands a great poem removed from
morning is not a therapist is not a plant lovely
his dog kills the therapist his morning
is lovely and romantic
and his morning is not the wild nectar
on the thousand turning silent eyes
so
there is loveliness and fun
the therapist and the therapist's dog
kill ducks in marshland
a great poem can be
removed by scrubbing
from mourning
i'm unable to choose
what you'd nectar on o reader
a great poem can be removed
from the whiteness of the bath
is not led into a thing
i'm unable to recall the wild never
the title of a long
ago rung bell afraid
one perfect choice what
you'd nectar on a great poem can be
how wild plants are lovely without us
and buck (he says you didn't choose)
on a great poem can be removed
and planted in the garden beside his body
i wonder
is there not a therapist
inside every ridiculous yes
“On the wall is a spot: the painter sneezed / … or dirt, / or is it a cousin back from the dead / yearning to touch brows. / The spot is not monochrome; red is with that gray. / It is … a cell beset by virus. / Really, I don’t know. So much business thins me out. / And now voices approach: they are spheres, textured.” Kleinzahler
direct pinesap sunlight sight recede
fundament unnerving receiver
function over fabrication consider this
future clasping scales study and synprecept
rich woodland sights sunlight retractable specific-
developed neuroscientific union
of committee glans stretch the canyon tip
commonly suggests 95 percent in utero make art
in utero enhanced thought through thunder
between metonymy and metaphor innervated mucous memory
‘s saprophyte defaces coin retractable specific
developing through time with wine considered raceme
retractable boy fairly stretchable roots of pine and oak
man fairly stretchable specific developed analyses suspend mental
syntheses overstimulates unfastening copper cage door
Source: Kleinzahler, August. “The Interior Decorator on Sunday.” Live from the Hong Kong Nile Club: Poems, 1975-1990. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2000. Print. Page 31.
Overgrown Hops, Livingston Manor, N.Y., July 2016
The least desirable male model in the room.
Che figata! The sweet, sticky, glowing
World fills the artist’s pocket. That claimed room.
It bleats with importance. Vibrates. He reaches down
And finds his hand bleeding.
The artist, meanwhile, glowers,
Designing dry, private experiments with black masses
Infrequently transcribing what he divines
In the lab notebook to whom he is married:
Not clever enough
Not smart enough
Not wealthy enough
Not sensitive enough
Not hungry enough
Yet, there he is, enough.
Still life of the artist without father:
Findings inconclusive and forgotten.
Wrong number. Au gratin.
He intuits something young,
And asks: Why bother taking the test?
He’ll all be dead soon. And all the rest?
Dead and fine. He lines up
In front of the urinal
Panting like a gladiator.
Sad, spineless and the quite-possibly-alive emoji.
The pistol. The butcher’s knife. The optimistic turd. The sword, then.
Send.
Too much sensuality to dissolve
On the tip of the tongue
and him, unable to pay
much attention to anything, if I remember correctly.
John Ashbery loves to astute his assay:
August Kleinzahler adores his ma in Fort Lee:
Czeslaw Milosz, I hope you cherish the artist’s unencumbered flesh,
Decomposing in cubes on the couch
While he Googles for a definite vision of the divine
In an apple tree. (Another fucking apple tree.)
The least desirable male specimen
In this corner of his universe. Si, si.
Che figata! Strafigo! Abbastanza bene!
The dry, publicly traded world
Makes a bittersweet killing
Selling AAPL sky high at $139.
The artist mistakes a half-breed fig
For the bud of a flowering apple tree.
birth nature first then rethink people
organize all things accurately
these are mirthful gestures
imagine then precise pantomime
reinventing poetic ethics yearly
do not work hard the economy
here is too small nature winds
like wild kudzu grasps parallel
movement of its slight creators
you did this job right you
say your pussy is tight say
specifically of its motherly gestures
“If you concentrate on the sound, if you disassociate the words from the object they denote, and if you say the words over and over, they become a sort of higher Esperanto. … pure chant … then … find[ing] an object to accommodate the words.” Don DeLillo
loxodonta africana
large quantities of fluorite tusk
dance a dramatic statehood
of flesh kikuyu nandi luhya
luo forest by internet light
sky against art eggfully
billow thick hatches a forest
air corrupts art flesh
bordered by ivory
it is poached elephant
chrysanthemum cinerariifolium
Source: Monet, Claude. “Green Park, London.” Philadelphia Museum of Art. 1870. Web. 4 May 2016.
“What the soul contributed was in a dream, touched very lightly, and merely licked and sprinkled, as it were, by the soft impression of the senses.” Montaigne
surname maudelen
from the early middle english fem.
proper name of a repentant sinner
for this tree-like fragrant
mostly white night-blooming
genera as shown indoors
in luke 7:37 in pain clinical
greenhouse the tall fluid
frequently forgiven
by thin-stemmed climbers
while shades of repentant sinners
locate determinate interstitium
