She of the Rumpled Pea Coat

N.M.

Hears rudy boray statistic over the buzzy bee loves those within earshot encourages the dog to snip forever swing the hammer steal your melancholic library refuse manipulation be manipulated blacken the iron gates speaking at universities and private corporate events jam four little trees black ice air fresheners into the maxima’s ac vents the dog campaigns with distressed exposition perfect blocking and michael bay explosions admitting each other into the hall of greatness pisses on the y button sprays flat crystals across the front row and loses essence the sad pathetic mystery of life that’s what’s so great about it so much is failure as they say all telescope no planets as they say generous images jump from the first floor window hold their breath disembowel narrative intent with living happily ever after eat my marshmallow now or later neither of us will cough again eats ashtrays to reimburse the moon eats ashtrays.

Jef Les Deux Magots Tells Me


Jef les deux magots tells me rich fought james here no noise no one wanted here a scaly oak into the icy glare of sunset on eagle’s wing versus don’t play hogwarts legacy there’s a mod for that a haiku of drag down racing streets seven foot wide with a tedious grin similar to the passing train window’s laggy saggy salvage.

Double Sonnet for Michel

listen, monster, i’m here to remind you
the ruby drunk caught in your throat demands
a buck fifty for the downtown 1 white
shoe slip-resistant rubber sole the plan

this Philosophy smells of studded club
soda dark liquor hidden deep in books
template matching over styx russian sub
ice cream necropolis kicks filthy nooks

oh no i hope it’s not true i’m attached
to the colors posing at piss station
so unsophisticated my tenses
fall to the floor i’ve missed my choo choo

you don’t deserve a narrative monster
all you get: a spare admission of form

like a dog like a man who can’t decide
whether to use the pronoun him or it
dog who’s spoiled interior design
three heads one asshole no one to love it

michel foucault would have been an iphone
man bald bitmoji man he would have sucked
off zuck in the castro like a real man
unable to look anywhere but in

retrospect is fabulism is a
surrealist koan yodeled from buckling knees
in a space station manned by paranoid
belted purple unfathomable beasts

ignorant to our own intricate dance
i am not a love song i‘m a baked yam

Confessional Poem

Battered Cat, Survival Cat; Kyoto, November, 2019

this world
sorry
remains

or humanity
sun chops through bowling
the six forty

essential as a fax machine
here’s some good advice
demand luxembourg in the alley

who knows his motivation?
you simply hold all available
hands outward, palms up;

six whistles
doddering thru
tropical depression

her brunette history
stole
of friendship

as a friend places his twisted
erased
bottle durango — no one owning anything

of a sugar shell
one by one
after thermite nights

authoritative as a poet
listening to sparrows pr plans bombfall

or pins rattling inside out
what does it taste like?

in the back of mike’s
from one who demands better worm

at the brewery
erasing
carbon

it’s all
you can do
unless

hole
wide purse of
advice

his palms to yours
the inert grenades

slowly beautifully you’ve nicked
luxembourg or humanity
hands into hands

‘subjunctive, infinitive, not tied down’

Wikipedia Poem, No. 988

“Women have all kinds of practice
imagining themselves as men
and men have very little practice
imagining themselves as women.”
Meryl Streep

himself to less difficult words
the male is giving himself to improve
readability
the male is giving himself to passive voice
the male is
giving himself to passive sentence length
the male is giving himself to good results
the sentence length
the male is giving
himself to that which is not enough
the test
the male is giving himself to
sentences
the text
the sentences
the male is giving
himself to sentences
the male is giving himself to transition
the male is giving himself to active
voice
the male is giving himself to that which is giving himself to two instances
the
male
is
giving himself to two instances
the male is giving himself to less
difficult worlds
the male is giving himself
to the male is giving himself to transition words
and sentences

the male is distributing words
the male is giving himself to consecutive sentences
to sentence length
the male is giving himself to your text
the male is giving himself to transition words
the male is giving himself to two
instances
the male is giving himself to sentences
the male is giving himself to less difficult worlds
the male is giving himself
to passive sentence length
the male is giving easy text
the male is giving himself to passive voice
the male is giving himself to sentences
the
male
is giving himself to
sentences
the male is not methuselah’s father
the male is giving himself to that which is giving himself to transitions
the male is giving himself to that which is giving himself to only 3.4 percent of the sentence length
the male is
giving
himself to mix things up
the test
the male is giving himself to active sentences

m is giving himself to transition worlds
the sentence length
the male is giving himself to consecutive sentences
the flesch readability
the sentence length
the male is giving himself
to
passive sentences
the male is giving himself to improve readability
flesch readability
the sentences
the male is giving himself to the same worlds
over and over again the male is giving himself to good truths
the test
the male is giving himself to transitions
the
male
is giving himself to two instances
the male is giving
himself to active
voice
the male is giving
himself to mix things up
the male is giving himself to tradition
the male is not enough
the male is giving himself to sentences where three or more
consecutive sentences
the male is giving himself to less difficult worlds
over and over again the male is
giving himself to improv

The Making of Poems

Wikipedia Poem, No. 977

Rochelle Park, 2019

superbus

shows how   twice although they both turned   men took and rembrandt painted the 1970s made sense (or   not) of the art-historical or cultural upheavals of sexual violence against   women nancy princenthal dramatic perhaps but with replete with replete with replete without   physical princentury the political or psychological and coercion in artists have made for a male art-historical or psychological princenthal  writes pointing to convey it was inherently renderstood no era or culture has been a convey it in life abuse an extremis a new book an experience an  abuse

collatinus

his fantasies an  early 70s in seedbed performances himselves   invading their bodies to tie their bodies him as he masturbated an elegant account perform even if  some critics didn’t buy it or not quite their bodies to tie the obvious history and weaves in intimate relation and aggress   sexual violence in prince in seedbed percepts to an empts like chris burden account performances himselves the first agnes martists were  often account performance articulator describe more candy near a prize broad jump 71 offer the obvious of his best   

hardman 

she  convicts that no image  could become his sexual advance she could  subject was as if the could became his sexual advances   she conviction that no image conviction that no image could subject it   was as if the slaves offered her door she awakened he identified her two choices  she could become his sexual advances she could submit to his conviction that no image  conviction that no image could repress perhaps inadvertently going adulterous sexual advances she could become   his sexual advances she could submit to the could subject it was as if he submits to the body

Isabel II in Exile

Wikipedia Poem, No. 967

understand ennobling forsaken;
struck down, despair; perplexed, in all.

you angels chase wilderness of blood
the rest hard-press to understand thee.

earnest of blood inters irrelevance.

i bet you can see everything you search for
the wall the well the lakes of bit blood the low aftness
crushed; perplexed, in all.

you’re not the death mirrors
the holocaust, naked child running from work
unexpected understanding, the truth you are
the death mirrors singing and ennobling
you can see everything the hard-pressed red herring.

a bit of instant low afternoon sun
hides behind a pig farmer with sophisticated emotional truth
now the watermelon sun hides behind a pig farmer naked
running from blood fixative the wall the low afternoon crushed; perplexed.

inaudacious despair; perplexed, is all.

you search for the low afternoon sun hiding behind a pig farmer
with sophisticated understated military threat of it—both ways—the wall
melts into a blanket of dead fish.

the hardness crushed; perplexed in despair;
perplexed, in front of a red house beautiful
the hard-press truth of god wildernet—the next good
the next good the hardness crushed, perplexed, in all.

you rarely find a pig farmer with this level of sophistication
today in pictures of literary devices it was not deep necessarily
the hardness of it was death which is ennobling for some
the poplar tree.

god, hard-pressed hung on the wall with a bit of blood, they got threatened
the second they stepped foot on our tarmac it was a literary
development alongside the confident wall the hardness of it all.

you angels chase wilderness: the perfect poplar tree, tallest god, the true holocaust, the most nude pig farmer running from fields of labor, the men too deep on too much information, the movies ennobling el partido de la porra prove you search for the dead on purifying force el partido you need too many angels

Solution on the Horizon as Accidental Path to Desire (Patricia Arquette)

Wikipedia Poem, No. 966

key west sunset birds fate by numbers cavemen

Take a look at the lawman
Beating up the wrong guy
Oh man, wonder if he’ll ever know
He’s in the best selling show
Life on Mars

of unknown origin perhaps influenced by dousing
and centurion diction related a black squirrel runs

for its life there may be a connection
of some sort industrious mind thinks

thinks dossen beat forcefully
or lower a sail in haste is recorded

from 1620s an obsolete connection
the smell of heat launching from a toaster oven

waffles exiting to strike punch
which is slang from middle dutch

dossen beat forcefully or a similar low german word
an obsolete contraction of unknown origin

though admitting the meaning may be derived
from a contraction of to extinguish a sail in haste

to thrust or plunge into water to separate word from meaning
the garbage piles up in the backyard of a neighbor

the black squirrel briefly returns i think
an obsolete contraction of some sort

Hill of Jackals

Wikipedia Poem, No. 960

the sweetness drops by measured thematics
or they disintegrate into detectives occupying
extraordinary ottoman rudders brakes steered
by nero’s america new roads car themselves before
counterclockwise america is pushing clockwise
collapsing fireworks of america some theory control
chaos then the big boat gulbahar gulshah heat
of bankrupt mercurial perturbations sitti cicek ur
insane twin throttle economic helene emperiod
turned human order turning away anna and alexias
situations to put it mildly dog fighting imitative nectars

Black Hills Treaty

consider what they saw there

i don't trust anyone who
doesn't have my best leg
in interest both calves
slaughtered on the hill

 neither had a camera 

i hear their voices
like high school girls
squeaking on algebra
at tjmaxx i drink

coyote blood click click
each pore inflamed
for oxygen each pore
diabetic tigers of america
 
 neither      has      a camera 
 
chose to break the treaty 
when gold was discovered
there there they do
not know the way

they saw what they saw