all my days are laid out in front of me in lines of flight
all my days are lightly dispersed in front of me
i have my time laid out in tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow
and where is my time today

i have my time in the ten hours of light in december
i have my time in the sunset of four in the afternoon

there is time in the pages i read printed made physical so i can underline
the time hidden


an organisation of all manifestations of selves
monotonous block of differentiation
all just supply and all relation
princess, subject, mother, daughter, are things forgot
for every woman alone thinks she has got
to be a phoenix, and that then can be
none of that kind, of which she is, but she

what is awake are the children on the streets striking
lightning and smoke
everything exists but consumed by smoke and confusion and
drooping eyes looking futuring

there is no health; physicians say that we
at best enjoy but a neutrality
and can there be worse sickness than to know
that we are never well, nor can be so?
we are born ruinous: poor mothers cry
that children come not right, nor orderly
except they headlong come and fall upon
an ominous precipitation

Goodbye!
wrapping around it
that it should be by now
naturally another joke
yesterday's failed. Let's look
one more time

crawl

off to the garden
and peaking through the window to
see the Little
Pieces

resignation "It's working"
we can be the entire day

We had eaten to the bone what was the good meat
and were wondering what to do with the leftovers
we had left
the bad pieces; bottles of bad

We
did not want to take the forest
home, no one wants to
"we were happy to be
left sticking to ourselves"
we saw

a mouth of regret
and a willing eye
"Oh!" was all he said
Oh how agreeable you are
going
"I do not know" in the most agreeable
way
we go
we do
than do

while the excitement in his voice
was trying to find
what it already possessed. Now we
have it it lies
in love does it not repeat itself?

Otherness
Ratherness over Otherness
we do really believe in
the thought of it

Isn't that wherein you live?

i tried to wash my hands
under this infected tap she is
completely empty
i dream often about pool, grandmother,
extending my hands into nothingness

i will scatter the ashes of a spoiled
we over the city that is already full of
senseless lungs, poured glasses and running
eyes i see your set of eyes you possess
a to me bloodshot wisdom i am floor-bound i will whirl in
an ongoing we

i make an incision around my hairline a
perfect cyclus an aureole
take off my skull softly a hat where i
evaporate see an upward heaviness lying here
long lines a violation
i see black regret like poison me as a think-rider jump over another fence become as a talk-shaman to dissect myself
fits me better than to say i am cutting myself it is more like a construction of soft fingertips that slide and slip into holes and
explore embrace self-respecting arms

there are piles of material in this house
my intuition a healing functionality i follow a
method my skull a hat a backpack a shield with which i depart

believe myself to be complete
a true vision
my cracked one, my beautiful one
never finger-pointing
i am castle-like, architectural
i do not become i am i am i am

take down"
the news
tireless
After the fiasco

that could not go wrong.
"And what is infuriating in reds is that -
thought that the others ate
everything that we built around ourselves
and above all
the Help and - and - it would
not be so dark

buffering over face
"Let's go"
take down"
those opportunities
take down" took him down in the street
near his own house - a punishment on
his face fearing pale conversations
nearing him and
expectations

a little pale thing
beside him

"To be honest", shamelessly
we were those things that disappear
we were wondering

thrill against him He was a
dog with a wide heart.
The enchantment
as good as
gone

surrounded by fit tantrum scene even conniption
understood

when they were at the end of the road
sitting still

"there is
nothing now that I want. I am becoming ill
I do not understand why

"But why The
difficulty about you is that you suffer of an excess
of
small pieces
At least you are keeping yourself busy
your energy-a little
pale thing fearing "Me! On my
Own!"

but still

"You stole him. Of course you have him
otherwise in your garden
never stolen, how I go

I have I say
my own
chain. What I would like to know is
how come

"Filthy dog, yes yes! and you loved to
steal

"I think you never owned a dog."

I will leave you
my dog

a rancid filthy one
"Liar!
Thief!
a thief!
and a liar!"

they turned
helplessly, startled
collar
the Owner screamed