Someone I respect is putting on a play.

Wikipedia Poem, No. 853


put on a play
pliant appeal

so what is
putting on

grow through here
grow through there
crystal-sutured words

i’m sure he
can drive the honda

its lithe dogwood takes root
in these crystal-sutured words
i’m sure he
can drive these crystal-sutured words

sure he can drive
and grow through these
i’m sure he would speak
for his

i respect fully
biodegradable materials
the honda
is lithe
lithe dogwood
take root there

and grow through crystal-sutured worlds
i’m sure he would speak for his name
i respect putting on a play
lithe sun

no one remembers himself
among these crystal-sutured words
i’m sure he can drive
and grow and speak for himself
among crystal sutures
the honda crv puts on a play

the dogwood
root in crystal-sutured words
i’m sure he can
drive there
and grow through a play

dogwood takes root there
and grows through words
speaks for himself
among crystal and names
i remember his name
i dismember toward antlers sewn to bureau

and if i
don’t comment
toward ritual
the ritual has begun

Wikipedia Poem, No. 323

For Raphael

   come rubber 
         tenement the city beneath 
a       way 
      to take one to grade 
in   new york los 
on a completely hits 
          grazing says
good god have you seen what helps me sleep 
in these 
organize performance leave 
home creating a concern 
        kids and development over 
    performances to meet hung 
out which is part dried 
gunpowder disappears 
     museum all and mound now  you’re 
    my friend 
at a dream class has class
     her companions hour 
that piano vines
         is from the melrose
says he vines years 
          he never asks to destroy or distribute only ares 
       her asket this organization 
squares exploitations alyssa 
in the hacks 
and offers the south bronx
         fantas face also a couplet are sorry 
      contact in working whirlwind quarry
   the hooked face
        familiar from there
school on a sour-apple chard huelsenbeck's accord class out 
   i email to a tshirted familiar from workshopping come 
     for each college to take a year
see this featureless thing the face then agrees 
green or sundry armament hazing over 
       neon-rain countries her life in the tabernacle 
anyneed toward want is plainly a memory 
a competitive home he vines she vines the rhythm 
yet either that is participant and a new york 

     movement ripped from the cross 
jaques lacan archite-out indian   real big music 
pound fruit stall streets away 
a train architect

      through the planet 
this glove rhythm retruns 
warmth to take a vision new york

   the new 
lost angeless 
  lot hot
senses wings logically 
star symbols she and he 
a batting tare wayfindigenous mind 
      body as skatebooks then 
      bike the daily freeman professes 
the articipants such 
the function philosophy courage 
      a rarely birder
a character study   brown bunny 
hopping rare and kid she burned out
barely affordable and chang-out 

joe says joe says joe says others 
merry-go-rounders snack and filial lake 
this bfa this mfa and streets and lakes
the number two traveling some great distance
dressing quick steps with her merely by 
follows people severing
the garden departs life 
and mouth broadcasting 
          play at tarry-scale vicinity 
      color board 
i           carrots

things not or 
stock image 
helps me sleep on 
avant-garden shopping 
joe says joe says joe says 
an around 
    the new york 
      city bus small gardens showing 
nine laid 
       engestures a friends 
     long island long ago 
cross schools the calm down calf heir himself and
joe says joe says joe says others 
          after near high 
school on a come 
first baseballs then salt

“Hi, Joanna”


Hi, Joanna. How have you been?
I’m well. You look well — I’m
Happy to hear you use that word.
Good. Good. Well, anyway, I’m

Concerned about your voice.
No, specifically the way you recite.
It’s … troubling. You appear snakelike
And arrested, harmless. That’s not the way.

It’s not. I wouldn’t say “short of breath”
Exactly. Let’s call it, Forked-god. Please,
Calm down. I’m going to ask you
A couple of questions about your sexual history. Is that OK?

You switch back and forth between — please,
Correct me if I’m wrong — between
Subject and solitude. That’s to say:
Radical loneliness and decimation. Correct?

Masturbation may be part of it, but I’m speaking
Broadly about a timeline of sexual partners:
Moon-god, Ocean-sent, Stoic-antler. Relevant?
Of course. Its right here on your chart, Joanna:

“Five-three, phenotypically retroussé nose,
Tumescent pout, cosmetically rebellious.”

So, why this affected staccato when you read?