Wikipedia Poem, No. 377

wiki377

down?   the sky is   not a catalog, an inventory,   a          litany; it is 
sent up for grating?           vision    touches blue bore and     flake moon   
cloud or men in a rush against god no, against       god        no, against god       
no, against god no, against god no, again, this is how         i am like a 
grater? what           comes down?    the sky like a grater.         what comes 
down. what comes down?        the sky is not a catalog,    an in a rush       
against god no, again, this       is how       i         am like a grating?       
vision touches      blue bore and           flake moon           cloud or men in 
a rush against god      no, against god          no, against god                
no, against god    no, against      god      no,    against god       no, 
against           god                     no, against       god           no, 
against god no, against god      no, against       god        no, against god           
no, against god     no,       against god no, against god no, against god          
no,       against god          no, against god no, against god no, against god       
no, against god no, against god no, against god       no, against god no, 
against          god no, against     god          no, against god            no, 
against god no, against god            no,        against god     no, against 
god        no, against god             no, against god no, against god no,       
against god no, against god     no,           against god             no,      
against god         no, against god         no, against     god      no, against 
god       no, against god         no, against god                no, against god   
no, against       god            no,       against           god no, against god   
no,          against god no, against god             no, against god       no,      
against god          no, against god           no,   against god no, against god   
no, against god       no, against god    no, against god               no, 
against god             no, against god    no, against god no, against god no, 
against god            no, against god    no, against          god   no, against 
god        no, against god           no, against god              no,       
against god         no, against god     no, against god      no, against god         
no, against        god          no, against god        no, against god             
no, against god no, against god    no, against      god no,       against god 
no, against god         no, against        god no, against god        no, 
against god     no,        against        god           no,    against god no,           
against god        no, against god          no, against god        no, against 
god              no,       against god no, against god        no, against       
god no, against god no, against god               no, against god no,          
against god   no, against god                   no, against god                
no, against god          no,           against god     no,      against   god           
no,    against god no, against   god        no, against god         no, against 
god no, against god   no, against god no, against god      no, against god                 
no, against god no, against god      no, against god no

Wikipedia Poem, No. 376

wiki376-sm

“that sticky infusion, that rank flavor of blood, that poetry” Galway Kinnell

 

of
sizzle—her innards
disposed of
meaning sow
plated for
a child
in the hourglass
faces
down thin
strips of sizzle—her innards
disposed of
meaning to letter law

it is passionate play that is passionate
play that is passionate
play the comprise of
choices

it is
cold
here—stuck through
with the bear—

that is cold
there—stuck
through
the hourglass
faces
down
there—stuck through
with
the
101st

airborne the 101st
airborne the fisher’s net the ribbon-winning of sizzle—innards
disposed
of
meaning of trumpet the
emergency room doctor’s

red ribbon-winning of choices

is
it cold
here

Wikipedia Poem, No. 241

wiki421-low

“I told him about my trip to Berlin, how I had gone back to a country I / couldn’t remember; and during the time I was there, found the language / less harsh, less laden with its history, but still not really familiar / I realized I had gone there to find a state of mind” Forest Hamer

 

x in the time of y

from here a bistro table invites thrills
and irrigation leverages
buying sons lie another use

irrigation zones then
on 75th street like crows
if they are said to function

resemble privacy deeply
and common cover cold
the first big outdoor

excision of self
frosting the outdoors
rehabilitating neglected aluminum

walls grease-covered
picked over rules
arboretum balcony courtyard

trellises grown over with lush wild perineum

paculum-spec2-sm

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