30 Jun 2006

variation on t'internet writing (continuing?]

I was emailing her I was texting her I was ringing her on her mobile phone from obviously the best enamoured i say when he gets down there right the day before pleased to see you yeah really really not en joue fait mes suis c'est une ciel brut sky jj erica jaune fille ma jaune fille ericature nominally etre sappho object se plonge arrette se plonge arrette toujours avec avenues

lundi etre mardi etre jeudi etre dimanche ca plus sappho object phoning phonetic from avertissement sapphic embodyment objet if da rien c'est ca the odd trains quel que chose douche remark recherche paramour grab a sandwich before the go I did the ego kid now poets r selfless iconoclasmic the identity changes to fast to wear it

the distance quel ceuleur mon amis through space is measured by space in the ether of eye right left quasi marauding the segment of an arm the space in an eyebrow is not taken but filled space, touchable space the object of space by the absence of nothing unseen sense sensory texture a haptic fuck all change change with gusto change because we are armored with sets bold and forward measured brevity with women uncultured and twining sooth of something unclaimed undramatic lines of rooms photons guise

post cultural and malign to raison we learn the intuition of measurement the running of the clock the possession of tasks the hard rein of horses hands invisible and enveloping world emails to Afghanistan she say we are the world still flat a canvas lying under the vast bowl of illicit ilucid campaigne skjie mi cherie we stop off late from work in a french cafe bar in leicester we turn in like drafts of papers signed and meaningless we dream of licking each others tongues caressing the backs of mouths deep and meaningful till tomorrow masturbating emails car and television set

poetry sets us back a way

throwing bodies in bed clothes feels the ruff sheet against her feet

U sez yeah yeah yeah u looks like an unicorn but mais oui your destined for someone elses testicles we were still repose in morning madness et vous c'est ca and words uggled like a nutters utters new words in the still eye of dreams the i conscious enough to think of the risk of surreality than to be in practice on call for seven years seven days a week sleeping now that dreams increase insanity u wear ur make up to go out avec jeff koons, de Kooning mistry jones your kaleidoscopic eyes drinking in to urge outwards thorny regrets

28 Jun 2006

from THE DAYLIGHT SECTIONS (35)

I lived once
I live
now

tomorrow
I will
live again, expand

all available light
mixing the
inevitable

with
the eventual
and blend reasons

to immerse myself
in reverence
especially

kind
light soft
spoken light's alignment

variation'on crescent's variation'on tents

21 Jun 2006

turned'over

folded

only accessible

0 straight line
"same

consistency center

because" lathe rest

weighed
skeleton more

becomes (not collapse)

attraction

person completely
ruptures

NOW empty

there above (traction)

relation
force convention

drop girders column

weighted

becomes large/thin
congregated more up'd

hand

think cannot

factor a (never
opened)

oblique angle

right handed lapping

16 Jun 2006

from THE DAYLIGHT SECTIONS (34)

My silence reasons with your silence.

Scissors along laketop shift the path of boats
and pebbles in the parking lot
trucks nudge that sound small.

Havasu is a demeanor that we live as anyone
would breathe in spare momentum.

Conjecture reverts to play of objects undercast
by siloes of convivial respect.

Look at this world and how we're bound by fate that it will go away,
as stated by someone who'll never know.

9 Jun 2006

variation on harrykstammer's "tents"


as it begins to get darker these words come to
me as the night turns through the weildY stars glistens object/I proctracted

imbibed


thob
ton stel fo tnioP

eht

ot metsys

ym
gni

wols gnihsarc, snoi
tcef ni
lariv
fo e
C
naTsnep

pah




MONDAY funny how the grand nuit

because

she slows stars avenuesslate headlights
body topography

of this TUESDAY the sun iris and buggered

SATURDAY

streets

THE CRISIS IN TOWN

pour avenue celtic or revision FRIDAY stars fall my days peopled and esoteric unidentifiable

4 Jun 2006

from THE DAYLIGHT SECTIONS (33)

topography arrives one sprinklet at a time
in lifelike pixels premising distance from
formed glyph in keeping with a brand name-
d metrocal one used to practice dis-
appearing when plexing to fore-
groundball recovery its own
ballast perhaps remaindered as the kismet
of untidy pouch as unlike store room
sticks halftix would you go with me
go solo or just stay put in the neuralgia
of entombment sideways all unkempt and beatific
or in slumber where the snow used to define the lines

adroit new slumber whitens who we say we are
while under the guise of tapshoe
within many tries reaching for gobletry
in a shake or two manipulating seasoned
wintry silver blue aloft and in the nick of
lean time beaned with brine the leggo factory
gives back hemp and greased wheels oil
and steel freed pictures pressed into
gray cellular fever dreaming in drool
and pertinent psychopathy

here comes nowhere, shouts the sequel-spewing
northern type absorbing sunshine this pale
Midwesterner out by the pool in shivery
ninety-some degrees sans humid balance
now I lay me down to reach the testament
to golf and brittle gestural confection
as if shaken lace were drizzlish
yet waving under the influence
of June breezes prior to maturity
sunlight's still young and we are
always predisposed to feigning
an epistemological hoe-down that confers
on noggins the presumptuous stamp of
approval that alleges the preeminence
of external validation always a head more vital
than nutrition to these D-starved bones

2 Jun 2006

In silence are our whispers words
Miasma
An' whence th' ftorie vapors unfold
of words decrepit meanings told an' told
my feelings @ you foreign
for sure
we'll take our place
the scent of pollinated traces
aloof to designs de sign
signature purr between the hiss
and missiles techniture oblivious/oblivion [Rex]
Thro' Times submission (sense)
The elegance of seeing
eye to eye Too ToUcH
Labyrinthine
In words our truth would hurt to trust