once
                            



                                       i
                                         was (not
                                                         )
                                                          in love with youw
h
   a
        t,Happened?

a glum thickly dolloping gray today to day i say this day i say today today
   (a lip is twice as thick when knuckles tumble rumble numbly bumble
over pearled lengths of ivory smearing in his gobbing gabbing moral oral
    silence bruising orifice)
in class
               listening shortly
                                           to hard and bitter wafts
                                                                                    arrogant and nimbly shoveled
"he was 20lbs heavier than me"

without nearly mercy the strange brawn of sinuous boughs thickly forested thoughts. wreathing simple futile furious thoughts. wearing sluggish fatty
eyes prepondered coloured and uncoloured (right in their middles) disks
flinty gristle they're black right in the median outside inside upside downside
left and right and left. my heads wearing them and more flush with nose
and just below them it's there and just below it, lips are waiting slightly
parted waiting to guzzle sickly the ruby hard cords on your face your face
is there with lips and eyes and teeth are there on your head and hair to
is coming right out the top of your head where my fingers go amongst their
limber stocks and digging slightly digging into the pale soil of your scalp
AS YOUR TOUGH STIFF HARD FUTILE LIPS ROIL OVER MY
stupid ugly soft lazy lips, over my dumb wonderful bloodied lips

raise the day
on salted ash
the earth is stilled
in noble glass

a gilt punch of harder redder
a golden scrape, dying never

the nights a bruise
a bruising sleep
who's face is ruse
a rousing meat

the gloating love of breathing daring
the precious heart of reckless caring

Today is well
a well so deep
your pleasant face
i'll surely keep

        (in chamber,
         vermilion sore
         a giddy place
         from words do pour

        "my hands art night
          my fists art day
           i've come to thee
            so let us play"

1SummersLastAgoI
                                  t
                                  snapped
                                               o
                                               pen
                                               o
                                               ut
                                               t
                                  deldnur         st o
                            the                   e          f
               vaulted          r                            beautifully
      eaves              o                                                        sallow
      o                f                                                                        throats
      f         a                                                                                   thatched
                                                                                                          with
                                                                                                              rushing
     s
       k
          e
              ins of ROSES neatly dull in piles of singing crimson almost small o
                                                                                                                                  r
                                                                                                                             o
                                                                                                                         ffseting
     asymmetrical stemless bulbs adorned with ruby petals
dew damped with shining shimmering goblets of the dawns ******
jewels crackling sternly perfect glitters on the robes of light the roses dumbly
wear on howling green silence. that is that it was most quiet (and greenly freckled reckless hours) those mornings when i would rise and sup upon the supple lash of freshly murdered night.
                                                                  ;
                                                                   ' ,
                                                                , '
                                                                    '
                                                                      ,
                                                            ,


                                                                   '

when never i'd gone to nook in hiding the sun in their puffy titanic pale
the clouds of spring are not unlike the lips of my lover; whose splendor
grates in every and every her lazy exact muscles flush hunk of slippery
rough pink; she who art wholly more a softly thing than the big tangy
roof of spreading up over all the earth their guts of rumpled kissing
flesh the skin of my soul. which is not unlike a crust of furious dainty
cells basically cloistered knots of dna and a and nut in which is the
glorious **** of lovely symmetry that composes the entirety of her most
unfat blood corpulent sock of engorged radiating ***

could what be more beautiful
than, unbound, ivory fingers
caving tingling
filigree complete and softly
intricate on the mechanism
breathing dying
in spRing slowly handstitani(
)cally imp there feathering
living smiling
big chestnut eyes the summers
got about her face a lot like
glinting shying
the star scaled meter of the
last night i was in with
you. where we were forever
scalding lying

when i,m moving i don't like to make any sort of sound
any sort of short sturdy long fragile careless sounds
and i like to go around
and i don't
and i don't

o   t      d                 w   to      FRIDAY harbor            w     s
    h                          e                               ­             i        a       o
   i        a       I        n                                            t        s ­      r
s       y                t                                               ­                 t
                                              ­                                     of

                 gorgeous
a peeling ember of light
pomped and glutted
serenely basking
a fleshless
glove                                                of­        light
                                                   ­                  all over the bay
                                                             ­        and twiddling
                                                       ­              my skin
                                                            ­         between the little shops
                                                           ­          i was
                                                             ­        and i was

there's a new echo
a moon
sweetly grand
raising billowed sails
a bright ship
on deep nights lithe ocean
scudding graciously
to harbors
loose and hard
behind the suns little splash
on earth
    every
    and every today

us clambering)
                                                     ­                                o(     throats
                                                         ­                             i     pillars of salt
                           upward                                              c   looking back
                     ing              voices                                  a    a flower
                l,l                                sprung ­                  r       in the barren
             a                                              almost     of          soil
when f                                                       clean              shouted
                                      ­                                                             a most
                                                            ­                                           a violet
                                                          ­                                                  a violent
                                                         ­                                 staccato colour
                                                   from
                                                            ­     its
                                                             ­         sepulcher
                                                                ­                    of primless
                                                                ­                                  error
                         ­                                                                 ­             smashing
            groomed
                         unhard
                                  petals
and

today i listen farther to music almost nearer
at the sickled median
of fluff and ice
and
"shhh",

Darkness,
                                                                                                           in sometimes
                                                                                                           sitting aming
                                                                                                         areing
                                                                                                             ising
                                                                                                                   i'm
                                                                                                             from glades
                                                                                                          of chastely tiny
                                                                                                         beads pink
                                                                                                      about
                                                                                                                my eyes
                                                                                                      immeasurably
                                                                                                              welt slow
                                                                                                    moisture
                                                                                                             at this
         very




























































­

















                       a.

harder biging
flowing digging
a river is hardly
adept
with numerous
able tongues

the land through
,with slithering,
rumpus silver

gloats
or meanders
      unquickly a cordial slump of wet and wet
                                                                                                                   to comment
                                                                                               early lately
                                                                             bending
                                                            straights
                                          of lumpy
                            smooth
         orchestral
(
  )
   )
     (
        8

i were left to impress upon myself the medium of hips
where in was yours, the aptest sliver of
feminine hotting spark
                                                 and after
in rigid slumbers mortar
she was more astonishing
than gods first light
he said
once
(and it was
) so?

o
                                         ,
little star
with fingers
  gowned nimble
    fickles numbly
     bickering the
night with
perhaps slamming
      bruises off white
         fast timidity
                                                   o,
           simply dusting
             forever lovely
               without mortal
                 err ere the dull
                   mother of budding
                     s
                       -tupid unheavy
                          light
                            what slashes
                              night briefly
                                impeding
                                 darkness flaky
                                  flaking breaking
                                 in summer
                                making
                   ­           sorry ladies
                            who sleeping
                           fairies dote
                          'pon slick
                        penultimate
                       spheres
                     where
                    heaven
                  whitely moors                                                            ­                                ,
               her softly
            and her
      deftly
marvelous                                       ­                                                   ..............­..........
   4ever                                                            ­                   ,
     and 4                                                                ­     '
                  ever                                         ­        .   "
                                ever                           ­  ,  '
                                         ever                . '
                                                   eVEr : '

uncouthed, in the plain, in the pleasant, in the big upward outward (foreverandever) the sky. andl eap tu pt ot ouch the grotesque marvel: the sun; who's infinitely finite strands of lovely fingers briskly gallop on the smooth earth. a fine lady, he loves most, HER.,;';,.

everything                                             :

. comes , together ;    '       "  and   '   falls  ;     apart       ,        

                                                                                                       .
                                                                                                    ,      ,
                                                                                                        '

i
so
me t
imes
see in
those t
ranspar
ent eaves
the quick b
lack forest
of the panele
ss leaves the h
ithering blata
nt brains scurry
to and fro and fro a
nd too" their marki
ng frailing whizzin
g forth to which heaven
gabled songs the limp s
aints court and snuggle
gregariously the foiste
d girth of the black quick t
rees in there in their unrem
arkably souls i,ve watched t
hem go back and forth and forth
and black lithe brooding reams
of slow wood in them, there their
  i'm starting to wear wear wearing

maybe i'll go
                     go all hard and wiggly
when the bread of earth is suffocated
perfectly the surly bending twig,
my follicle of sheathing mortar
     and you.ll be soundly
quiet too
and you,ll love me more than god
and maybe
                     together
our softs will blunder
irrevocably against the sun
who's on our in's
our outs
                 and stapled on the supple
tweed of grass and laughter
(our fingers in the earth
  the righteous
     who think with hearts
       of copper vermilion hush
         ) i'
ll                 call you heaven
                and you;ll just
      just
                  just
                               just
              just
  just                                       just
                 just
                              just



          just









                 t       s                               u                                          j

it was so unbright yesternight in the closed nook of a pale painted swinging
swung tight, tightly swinging, quickly singing, breath of fast hair
from the timid article of light uncorking from thy precious bowl:
your remarkably hips. i quipped a sonnet on the marble jelly of your
cresting gluttonous *******; with my hands between the stocky virulent
oaks of your frail gently thighs. and your eyes were scorching, and the
breadth of hours tumbled open and wee

i went! Starting of the dulcet earth
and
         1 foot
in front
                (of the one Flute
  spraying a magic twiddling famish
of achy voluminous nerves so close
to the skinny sheathe of light)               and i WENT! stumbling up into the

    enormous gulp of gods hard left hand and the light was s o loud i could hardly smell the oceans claret spinning spiral downward down we go like the
we go down into hades smart arms he said he loved the way we sweet
and gross
                       and sticky
           with sturdy absolute nothings our unlike hands onto the bashful plume
             of our very drunkest strings
and forza the abrupt closer our hearts, their devious septums, and twain that vermilion truculent fold and hit furiously the tempest:

           GRAND little miss. she's a lady sumwut like you
raven scalped and lush with curving mounds of plush sensual fever
       my strange electric scar
on my plain arm
                                  your hands
                                                           and VERY VERY

did you know that a dynamic first cluttered light spilt about and smattered the various golden brimming lip of earth gilt in ******* bolts of mountain fat and even their ridiculous shoulders couldn't stop the dawn from treading succinctly marvelous sporadic flare

it was pretty much last night
it was, pretty much, last night
it was, pretty, much last night
it was last night, it was pretty
     much
last night
                the air was strings of farcical serious unheat
that clutched about our wayward
strips of
             meat
in a the street was a lot like
a neon painted carpet of a
trillion quick sparkles
glinting sorely
on the
immense nook of eve
where was huddled darkness' slinking cloth
a twill of slutty
colours                      they prattle on the door
ways                          on the hinges
and                           the unopened lids
of                               the fire cold skin
that my lady wheres the night like a carnal shrug about her
well sinewed luxurious shoulders;
to which i'm scuttling fingers
over her vibrant trachea
and down the small
premise of her
sternum
to the
able stillness
of her *******
and on their rush
my soul is molten wax
                                          and
                                                 verily
                                                           my
                                                                  heart   is      tooarapidstutteringglobe
                                                                                       at the blushing crust
                                                                                       of her softest
                                                                                       pinkest
                                                                                          !

or
well the
last time we were
which was also like
it was like 2 hot kittens
with button eyes trembling
against their sockets an unimaginable
tear and ladybugs and it smelled so pretty
when the stormy dream of your fuzz blundered
into the small summer of sturdy knees and sore ankles
and rickety sounding sunsets caving with silence, their
prosey colours dullling with a fast time over the bulbous
hearth of gods lemon drop wrists that have large merry hands
smiling with dew flecked cheeks rambling open rough lipless pockets
of deep poppies singing in the right little garden in the front yard of yesterda

                                                                                                                                      y

let'
s lay our bones against each others
and grind a bit Dear

                (Dear lady)

Grind their playful angles
and if it hurts a bit my dear
         (my long Dear
                My lithe dear
                   my ample skinny little hips Dear)

well then we.ll shovel abruptly
our callous gloating hands
all about each others bodies
and barely shatter silence
    with

         our common sensual howls

what"I"dois everyday i wake up as differently as every other
morning i've woken samely a different person than every other
morning i've woken similarly the same difference that was
similarly differently the same as every other morning i've
woken this same way iswhat"I"do

did we ever? like summer did. so smoothly into cool light. our very bodies went without us to the wet little wet edge of the biggest hardest lake where god and earth were touching sometimes suddenly. and their sorry eyes stung with a new mostly fragile tear. and we called it SPRING

Perhaps this Spring will ,suddenly,
and i will shuffle in its amorous *****
the large quake              my sheaf of naked
colour
the greatest lunging dallop
;this spring;
which gradually instant
like rain which
opens stunning
its big impromptu gorgeous
leafed in giddy golden god
        this spring,perhaps,suddenly,Will

a one time i wrote something
one time i wrote something this one time i wrote something
that didn't, that one time, seem at all like the sort of one time i'd write
a thing like that that one time but then i did
and i did
               and i did
                                and i do
(tense is important)

definitely probably
we,re all gods
sort of maybe gods
r
t
o
f
  m
ay
be gods

i went about the down and cleand own b yth ec l ea n
lithe bony bay ribbing the asphalt skin chuckTaylors'
and by and by the astute angle of the seas daunting
tailored skinny notch a grommet of sun ****** through
the scaly tremble of wispy ***** clouds spunting and breatheing
casual volumes of aromatic fluid bumbling out their tired
mouths and ******* on the lax pavement some of the heavy
drops "sPloosh!' wenting the ocean did and going "
whOosh ! "     the waves are munificently scrambling all about the rough timber
of the agile dock sitting sorely all alonesome and fickle
    so i gave it my feet
and wattled to its precocious face
and slid into the big
       blatant crumble
:      THE WATER

1(first
how came we
to god
           laid in ruby sand
a reticent meadow
of unyielding flowers
where walked i and You
in crisp vagrant unwinteR   . at complete crepitus
                            of illustrious tumors gritty
                            golden loose punish
                            of tawny excelling light
                            so for what to it slinks
habitually
                  atthe root of poppies striking fumble
a smell careening
                              of accurate stemming plunk(the stout muscle of dawn crept stupidly
                up      the
                                   ******* fat
                                            the mountains bridle
                                               with rigid imposing flint
                                gray skin
aaaand
             slowly naked
                            the full and bashful earth

have you ever been aware
                                                  gniyd are uoy  quickly woh





       ?

impromptu heaven
your sudden ample petal
drove clean straight wicked
a gnarling sodden wistful considerate
inconstant unpermanent rising golden bobble
(a really big wet
said on my heathen brow
the somewhat between
of your delectabley furnished hips)

i probably don't care
unless
           ido

"i'd yeah"
I'd yeah i'd kick him in the teethi'dkickhiminthe"teeth"

a stopping sort of started ending newing knewing sort of ended stopped and beganed sort of yesing sort of wooing newing
      sortofandalso
                                  alsok
    ­    i
         nd of stopped starting begunning
like well gee the summer was a nasal laughing roughness kind of sort of.
            i'd like to kind of
  or else to maybe
                                              with autumn who was distinctly haired
        in rich arresting dead
               that kind of starting stopping started
                                                                ­                    or well i'd like to think
     it,swellwhynotanywaybecause noone never didn't atall even in the big gabled church of dawn that strung the sky with gelatinous heaving fibers
all rabidly gesticulating puffy sansfinger hands grimaced on the slender naked
blue and black and bursting sort of kind of because sinewed fluffy hammers on because wrists because
                                               when you get all ***** in the mucky sterile daughters little pink little rose bud climbing open little rose bud up open big blooming like pink little sort of big sort of small sort of rose bud
        you kind ofwell you clean kind of your you you clean kind of clean it straight razor cleaning your you
          you cleaned with her big sharp little ******* all sharp and little and big under her shirts under her skirts kind of sort of because
                            that,s
                            w­her
                             e
                            she keeps it she
                            keepsitin there



                                                             ­                                                          summer:
she was unfreezing fresh squeezed lemon wedges sugar hilltops sweaty laughing nightmares in the big in the pale in the cordial surly pillow thick skinny heaps of gobbled luscious hot raining balmy slow quaking deaths every day i stood on that hill and i looked out over the city and she was really well gee sort of because.... . . . .               .                ,       ;       '                "

cheeks came heavy
resolute of cherry blotches
some rough candy
between their blossomed chunks
sugary sourly
imbued so cleaving mine own
with that writhing
miraculously specific tongue

held is it if summer is most?
(and a bluffing manure ) finely a hotness
of unmarking serf. the beach
gambled with moonlight
errant frolicking cluttered foam
  and a little sharp rock bruising your palm
which is unshallow purple
like the firmer shade
i am whereing
on optic
orifice                             .                 spring is first. a wig of new moist teeth
                                                           cranking tirelessly sore lean branches effort
                                                           lessly green voice shaking in a gorgeous
                                                           breezy plain. crumpling swift hesitant cold
                                                           floundering winter shes'that like a me
                                                           a stupid magic at feverish impulse plunging
                                                           haphazardly clinging impotent listing surge
                                                           over the hairless empire of a bud bisected
                                                           most perfectly at the twaining force
                                                           this godless holy impudent burst
                                                           this SPRING

did because i well jeez 10:23 farther steeper i'd was a outside 10:24 a junebug
is creaking on the well like a fine cylinder. it's because steeper or 10:27 clunking
a light of amiable is sort of. at 10:31 a common a cool the. into if.
        a very sorry long is diacriticly loose with the scab of lunging trees
by the barn 10:31:53 is . it's was almost because i did i well jeez
the june is a crimped fine determined juice. did it seem because or and a breif
i s haloed somewhat or creaking a junebug is big for by the stalls shuffling with legs in the sort of barn by the 10:36 it's gabled a bit. or does it seem a because well did i and meyou. pm well it were 10:37 and longest brown is seemingly. otherwise unmarked a phonetic element. by a 10:39PM leafing softly
  the scuttle a. unnerved little scraping. beneath or metatarsaled cadence a the grassed stripping earth went from the basest mouth of timbered certainly to the unskinniest blue. a vanity of wheels or because well did i jeez

hey, it came about that i was
and it was thus that i am
          
                 or is

and will be was
but so of now i will be
if  only yet but not still a while
   and if so i'll do some thinking
and some thoughting
    or stand or eat (or sometimes both) or sometimes neither
and if by day
so too at night
                                      I'll come to these
                                      the dead length of
                                      heavy words
                                       which writ by men of learned haste
                                        i,ve chomped the morsel of
                                        their fat and narrow tidy
                                        skinny wide messes
                                     in chapters and verse
                                    
yet what will stodgily
revolve to fore is central
the chiefest realization
of my riggling dearth
is that all is simply unsimple
a great prfounding
a small and illustrious sound
                                                           ­              (everything is paradox
                                                         ­                so too are i as you
                                                             ­            and you or i
                                                               ­          a truths a lie
                                                                ­         or lying truth
                                                           ­              and if you listen hard enoughyoucanhearalmostnothingrattledeeplyfirmingorfirmlydeepening­ . . ,

like i,d like to be
i'D like to be like Thee
Like theE mostly
in The wee
and Glee
                 (your silver and your morning

fresh stripping decay
delicate and voraciously succulent
(on the meager rectangles
  crammed with flaccid light
how grand thou art: pumping of the very stiffest asphalt garden
glinting relentlessly)
a comical filigree
spat by Mans most least clumsy
fingered mechanisms
  ;  cLipPing the common strip of cobalt languid sky
i'm in it's jowls
the rollicking neon punch
of ***
             and bricks
the addling conjure of moist trepidations
      in clear or amber juice
          of the fuddled *****
               the barman proffers;with his grimy note
and assertive beard lined vocal shunt
                  "what,ll you have                  ?
                                                                     "

barely it was swaying terrifically in cotton wind of sharp niggling wafers that flummox specially the growling infant sea, this lake, where i am by and satting with my soft particular femme who's metal slithers from her very roundest nostrils glinting rather unobtrusive and stubbornly silver. and jousting by in meager dollops college children blatantly. a basic scent of nonsense huddles on the 2's and 3's (or mayhaps more) they slant upon the dappled lazy soil reticent and uncouthly tread upon with flats little souls. their heads are fat with gullible churning knowledge. they farted from the dusted books. that stately chord of mugging music. that lays in bricks and mortared sighs. on the hillest of tops over looking the cordial bay.

spring. it's almost unsleeping
and stubbornly worn with
young feet in all her little parks
and her grassy and gluttonous
new flowers uncouple their
fragrant heads bumbling
a savage and stemmed arcuate
light that tumbles out the swaggering
mouths of upended winter.

the small and creviced
the hardy chapels of wood
and plastic and nails and wire
will burp to some agile fleece
some women and boys
into the delicious war of
new uncaking roses or the fine *******
that is this tide of bubbling heat
gnarling at the pale and loveless moon
who also is a *****
that plasters every skin with her lipsandfingers

she,TheSpring, will splay her plaintive thighs
and in their between, will march the strong
weak column of undead flesh
who are men and girls
and they will love her
the freckled empire of her *******
the fortress of her smooth impossible belly
the unquestionable meter of her hips
        and they will climb her naked ribs
with hands of innocent foolhardy clasping
to the magistrate of her tongue
the holy orifice she wears at the between of her cool cheeks
and smatter on it
grossly ardent spit

hey and a big straight
ungoded in my stocky amber chest
   and caved open my super massive collapsing
      singing vermilion crooked
                vent
          that busts suddenly gradual voices
of ancient fresh lungs that i know i only know i don't knowiknowiknowIdon't
      and it's not that i won't
and surly
these manacles of flesh
                         and bones
and sinewed cords
                they scarf my soul and giggle sharply rapid
      imposing
stony breaking surf
                                       a largest grunt
        the universe said in me
                            and or i said back
                                                                        YES

guggle buggle
the skirts and muggles
meager or muddle
                                         like 2 tones
a twilight
       almost sweetly
a sweating majesty(it broke trebleing uncorked femurs
briskly pattering the swilling silt
the siltish swill
                                 )by a massive
the very sea was outward and upward and forever and ever and ever & E,V'eR;
            !
             '
            "
              .
                '
               "
            .
              ,
                   '
                        .
                  ,          
                             .  
                                        '
                                                    ,
                                                               .

this poised indelible knot)

(of untranslucent lodging rock

that mets so eagerly

                                    a

         n

              d

shorns the tousled bed of sky

a circlet of watching cobalt

supreme and rigidly manicured

wi

        th

the stormy lips of god

they(who;are,a,marvelous’girded.fauld:of gray)

speak

with whitish freezing voice

to say upon the noble cap

                                         this organized heap

                 of lean sinuous

stone

their icy tongue

which laps the bare skull

of the untremulous mountain

irrevocably spouting on the horizon