these things are my house, the
house of my body and my flesh
swing singing
singed and swaying
over grass cut freshly short

the knots and roots
of who trees blister
through the soil and meet
with feet
their rough and earthen body.

there is a light piercing the dull
night crisply hurt with twinging
of star song shaking and excellent
inside the smooth nearness
of its dark skin;

my hands make quick fingers
into nice fists of daylight
catching the strummed humming
of its string sound–borne over
the mouth of a mountain–
vibrates and intense.

i walk and the chilled asphalt
is the tiny sound of my feet,,
these halls of night
a rembrancer
and so newly full of nothing
stink with rose and thyme.

i am alive–
i hurt to love and to love
is hurting; my dear i love you
i told you a thousand times
(and a ****)

i'm sorry because both.

i will live
–i guess maybe–
or i will die becoming
worm pursued eating
the earth as eating becomes
me

the            new          grass

which
(freshly cut)
grows under
the house

of your body.

no know:
not know
yet,
know naught
and
know not
but
no naught
for
no knot

binds

(I this very am a contradiction to itself)
this which is
the very thing i am
is not at all a multitude of singularities
but a single multitude of multiple singulars
i am large
                and small
                                and enormously
                                                           a colour daft as starry days
                                                                                                         and brightly nights
and with pale meter
my hards are soft
and softs are hard
                                         (and i am like an onion
                                          in petals of purple skin
                                          an acrid flavour imps
                                          my beam of darkly
                                          steeply cooler hotter
                                          breaths that buzz
                                          like wondrous flies
                                          in ample valleys or
                                          cotton pasted flesh
                                          in denim
                                          )your jeans were on my floorIfoundthemthismorning
and i woke up to call you just so i could touch your voice with my ears
and kiss the treble of its throat with my gangling soul waxing profusely
with sparks of verdant poems blossoming in the uncommon pit of the stomach of my gross futile blithe brain because you made them with the
errant tattoo of your slight and tremendous music bustling its enormous
yawn over the roof of (my) rainbow hard heart that would like to comment in Your plunk of navel ringing tiny glittering barely hairs my smooth and
pinkish crumpled crumbs of love and sprinkle you with careless *** sometime maybe SWOON.

you  are   the    most ardent summation
of the *** cells blistering in a womb
to spit on my skin your fragrant
  
        god

odoring perfection like the trembling husk
of a bloodless heart sleeve worn wearing: the tears streak absolutely"
dust me with the slivers of your sorrow
and i will lead you to the cleft of my stupid limbs
where all melancholy will cleanly disintegrate

                              morf
your so special frame. i love thee. do thou love mE?

in caked in minute flexing avarice of the dumb spiteful sun i,m;
it laps constantly the empire of your ***** with its caving greedy
light
the effortless virus of its tongue whose buds are placid heaving
minstrels; aptly rapacious guards; with pointed spears and blades lusting
your rind most clangorously in the habit of its golden languor
devouring the specificity of your hips
the prim bud of your clavicles
and
      and
            the dim musky sanctum of your pleasing eyes
(kind sockets brimming jade splinters
                                                                    )
and the sweet shock of your moss. between your thighs.

i hate him. the sun

come know me moon

     (know me quickly)

in my bed know me
your smoothness will
enamor and your fullness
will burst with silver
fur crawling out the
sharpness of your belly

i'll eat you
and i'll have
you in my body
and i'll just come
cleanly perfect and
naked i'll dance on the
gnarled bending forest
of **** tress in your waxing
*****(under your ******* moon)
the small creeping pool of your stomach
astounds darkness and you brightly bristle
with freckles and laughter and you'll jiggle

            perfectly

                                climbing
                                                        
             the
                                   night

what glory anon doth hither trace its arced pleasant cord
upon the cool dimpled cheeks of night    ?    so graceful doth it
punt and glitter supple light from faithful milky shore
its is is the moon.

     LUnA! my pallored damsel

my trembling seed of luminosity
           i gratefully take thee in my heart and heavenly lush
upon thy scalp, dripping sweaty glow, my
                          very blood and tears
for thou art

                                 ARTbeyond any man's

you remind me fingers deep(wetly plunging
kindler sparks

                              and

                                            the


                        complete



                                            collapsing

                           of


                   silence


softly meets, firmly, parting

slippery

coils

in briefly blushing. cheeks perhaps thighs, or)
fingers: your reminder
sets pale tinder
cloven
electric tender

to count you amongst numberless heavings
(smally colliding) of human voice thousands
screaming all dimly numb voices into dumb
voices numbly dimming(stars like innumerably
dying flicker less fast into darkness but still do)

would be a lie more truthful than living is truth

for though dying flicker: you burn

(and i whisper into you a very tiny spark;love
which ekes through your cheeks black wine
freshly distilled instantly drunken beautiful;flesh)

hanging on a petal of deeply sepaled night
(pearling dew) a sigh escapes across fields
of mute flowers up tumbling mountains reaches
stupid immortal silence and fear nothing hands
for falling though stars, silence, mountains, muted flowers, human voices:


YOU

pretty, i like you

but more ugly

i like even

                  ;bruise

nice easy, pretty

eyes ringed darkly
and thick

(but like you hurt
    )throat pressed
    
      sigh and gurgle

maybe i'll, do you
want me to?do you

want red cheeks
aching quivers
('cause (Baby)
there's nothing)

i wouldn't do(2)4YOU

from the delightful pinch of your waist
is effused the mauling senility of your
forgetting smell
(which like cudgels' dozing blows
wreak the apt obliteration
of my normally conscience
                )
and i'm a can'thelpit
but kiss dubiously
pressing down
the quake of
your
ecstatically
expecting stomach
(at when  reaches
the ultimate cusp
of your brimming
ecstasy pulpit
my deft oral precisely
                                      )

in me there is a grand heat
it's the purpose of my blood
hot stinking rivers
adolescent steam wafting
serenade a pile of burning ***

    a word tremendously whispered
shatter my lips. savage Gravity my cells
scream for thee. (lay open the stuttering
of my heart and place in it your fluid
                     i'll **** every hesitation
and blast your skin with shimmering agile
pulsings of my lungs; emptied upon thee)

make me raw little knife. the serrations of your
nails dance and please my flesh. motes of fire
         dimple the vassal of my will
how sharp thou are

please hurt me

the day came raining
(            ever love kissed
son;
       wander caving fluids
hollow stems ascenting)
glimmer specked leaden
******* heavy freckles
wager wet 'gainst dry
peace
          -ful


   gray"

; and it leaps
   over touch and blood
the illustrious crepitus of your oscillating
olive wrinkle
     meagerly i
                               climbed

  into it's hollow
       solid
                   flexing
                                      pink

      asinine heat

                                      i

          cream and chunk
    likely
                    the  steam
   is drunk                                      of ignoble

           *******

                                  *******

       from her
                                                      stifff

       blundering


                         boney

        rib





                       s

a never girl sits
thigh wide pretty
to the hilt
slit skirt
inveigles up
her
      and

by the skinny
breach of her
is a quick boy hungry
with
          a
             mouth

spit
       and gelatinous
               reams ofit

gets all over
a never girl
                       who
                               slits,
                               pretty
                               with a hilt,
                               hungry boy's
                               throats

why            ?         not
        in the glaze
hot subtle petals cravings
blue the read chin pageless verbs
nouning!
                wilt a bit  ,
                                 like the winter flake
failing warmth.

           (i knew too well the autumn .)

welcome me in your fluttering breast beautifully butterfly dUst
key my hole and unlock the secret girders barring beating
      muscle incessant tock ticking;

          can it be ever said?
                                           howmuch            i love thee.

driving; while in the backseat
i noticed orange small and sharp
flooding curled eve her hair 'bout
each revolution of my fingers, spent
twixt them last trill felt wide (it felt
enormous and hollow light as crushing)
it was full of serious ending and had convulsed
ever so little by little it shriveled(engorged)
grew, swelling to almost (inside me it did)
bursting

open yawning chasm
theearth said night and the sky said beauty
pinpricked photon punching absolute uncertainty
certainly a most green and sharply thorn
upon your stem
i grasp
blood

let's electric           ,         '       .         '
my hammer in your leaves                   ,
and slippery bundles of laughter                  .
will pump dollops                                                  ,
from chaste and vile lungs                                       '                     !
the creamy bout of odd muscles                                   '    .   ,          
gurgling serious tongues
into the snuffing carriage                                  of silken aching cords;              Y
                                                                                                                               E
                                                                                                                                    s

utter me a dawn absolutely imperfect
like the sharp stab of lovers fingers
to cut me a river of light tears
enameled on the neat hills. organized
heaps of mumbles a sun crumb in the nook
of eyeless creeping sleepless nights. bloodshot
beauty veiny clovers sprawling on the hillocks
basking savagely under a solar sheet of becoming
day.
            it
was in    a    way     likethis that
shone a babe of screaming yellow
over the static silence of morning
   cleaving the vibrating stillness in a scorch of

in your body(nexttomine)is a small electricity
tingling directly against my skin freshly glued
so bones velvetly lavished in groping cuddles
of perhaps hands. a sort of like the sky is puddles
of kissing faces excellently. and the world in
flowers snugly fits between womb and soil. where
i will say life briefly in your tiniest mouth,
                                                                          .

                                                                          '



                                                                           .










                                                                               ,

electric blessed lov3rs lick digital
tower disk spinning cradle.
why  so    near           far?
collude blank screen heaving *** whisperers

in your magic folly blindly look
on an sensual pit

it holds a wealth you avarice
                                             c
                                          o
                                     w
                                  a
                             r
                        d
                                s

crave most ardently

sa
yn
ota
wor
dor
)don


           'ts

a




                       ya




                 words
                     m
                   o
                    u
                   t
                    h(h
                        o
                           W)about
                          how
                            in
                        winter

                           slep
th
ard
ly a
letter
ofy
ourbody.but

(with a verb i
                    you
                    the aching
                    and all the birds
                    of a forest
                    
                    leapt

                       from





                          SLUMBEr



                          and rose






                          upon







                            the crimp

                            of darling youth





                             a flower,



                                 ,


                                          .



                               ,



                   ,



                                          .

its throat is very

(the night)

whose fingers deeply grouse
in such blue as silken eve
the whole stack
of enduring
city

roar
and speckled
by the quiet of an alleyway
drenched in stillness whitely

stealing sudden magically
into a tightest yearning swallow

(feels as does and such as when
i think to think

i think as when
in Summer balmy please
skin to stick to skin

a flower just
its fullness to erode
the fever of its pollen

distilled erectly kissing
one unblemished lips

of night who when did
Grousing so bluely
its fingers                     )

.































































­












                                     love me.

                                     **** me.

                                     trust me.
















































.

i am
(after all)
alive in you

                       this day .

the soft brushing,
the course fiber,
the flaxen hair.

i kiss you smally.

you do not stir
more than a pale breath
around your nostrils.

my son is inside you.

i will always love you.


(...sleep)

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

it were a day and a day
since ago we meted
drinking the curving
swill of dank *****
magic
             against the
**** breast press
upholstered
                       bench
seats of my auto silver
bodied vehicle
(where you dug down
your teeth
                    sharply

into the pink membrane
of bottomer lip upon
your quaking
face a groan
through which perspired
stiffly
as grinding i
pushing
your darkly follicled
amazing head
down
             *** up
                         )

come this day with me and look upon the earth.

She is a wise
wide at the hip
deep into her
basin where

the folding occlusion
of her bulging lips
contain the
exstatic pearl of life.

she is full:
her thighs
abound over
in supple fat;

her moss is
golden she hangs
a bent beam
on the running
rill from her

cleft bump,
the hillocks
suffused in
grass rollick
and distend
pleasantly.

within where
the waters
part themselves
into blood
and wine.

Her mucous
is secrete:

it flows
en-opaled.

The eyes are for it.
The mouth is for it.
The hands are for it.

it holds wide itself,

(and tight and suffuse
and secretly languorous)

for all who would enter;

and ALL entering is here.


And leaving too
is here:

there is entering and there is exiting here;
one quickly after the other,
or at the same time,
or at neither--
entering and exiting all the same.

She is a worm hung
and in her cellar
is some moist rot;

but do not dismay
for as entering and exiting:
from rotting there is birthing.

And how we are born.

And how we come from her.

And how we come into her.

And are made the same again.

there is, after all,
one thing
(after my breath)

–a star–

hung loose
and into the night
(which is my soul)

dreaming through
moist lips
and the cup of flower

a kissing of pale light;
the rough newness of rain;
and the smell softly afterward.

a soft
blue (undulating) god
cuts the
night
with moist sighs

like too much light
it hurts
to touch
with tired i's

but don't no
try yesing
and be mine

(i will worship you
soft blue beautifully)

on my knees:
though it might hurt me so

i can hear the old body of a cat creaking between my ears the rushing of the wind outside is enormously pale breasted i cup myself into a fist of warm andream of almost you nearly more than farther are i put my leg over a pillow the tension in my hips release remembering a pillow used to be your hips my hips tension



Releasing

only it is that
in every vibrant stitch
or cream and leaves of flame
a craven volatile smoothness
the soil unbuckled
unto this day it swelled
a very giddy wart                  (it glowing on her hips )

swearing with repugnant beauty
it's scarlet freckles grumble with the moss

your heart is
(so way).

the way it is, so.

it is to part blood
(the filling of my lips)
with your lips.

and its body is so clean.

it is the to pierce
by beating madly
tattoo of carry me forward.

(through darkness carry me forward)
and lurch upon the flowering of its heat
(my heat)

to tumble steeply up
in comely gouts of daftness:

my heart.

L
  e
T'sD
         oTonight
             hard. we'll finger ginger prematurely. immaturely. and
offended glossy cheeks. the fair legs, forever apart, the night's
begging panting heaving & yes let's
                                                          o­D
                                                         2
                                                       nite
                                       impossibly posing
                                     prosing nosing (it smells red
                               and neon). guns are our bones.
                             sensibly obscure the daft incommensurable
                           s,m'og O' inside the pooch, the slumping curve
                         the curbs and dancing, the jostling snort
                        of brain's panes behind them saying just faces.
                        unchaste faces. a multitudinous saliva teeming
                         young wagging hems lifted with my fingers
                          going under your cotton and right up
                            to your "'yes'" Y
                                                        3
     ­                                                 s!

girl suddenly let's live unthinking
with me          live
without  
               a single fear               Live
fiercely
in brazen                              sating
     live           thoughtlessly
and uncarefully dispose     your
mouths sweetest waste in     my
mouth Girl                       beginning
carelessly       let's                destroy
apprehensions gentler cuffs     let's
unbind our firmer stuff             and
let's find their able tools in wanton
caprice
let's suddenly live unfearing and
thinklessly

luna lolled a tongue of light through the cottony
bifurcation of fluttering draperies
licking her window with shimmering
spittle
refracted by the pallid idea of her flesh
she seemed a glowing angel of bone
wreathed in this incandescence
i took her sharp words and sewed
her love in the fabric of my being
oh god how i love her virginal
vessel
please won't you give me that gift
let me make your clean all grimy
with my ***** fingers

alas how can such an ugly thing as this me
ever lay in the proximity of a her so achingly right?

i am a nothing and she an everything

please don't leave my sheets this morning
i want to sing your song
bending my tongue about its fragile melody

in the distance a chime murmurs

earth come: please ugly
a

dirt             please

earth, mud

maybe

earth

please

dark rich smelling

of wetDryingAsphalt fragrant

threaded moments

'tween

your sighs

is ****** a FLOWER
whose pollen
is sticky
has gotten thickly
coated my tongue
and the only cleaning
is to
lick

lick



lick

AUTUMN
                   ,
                       shes got a pretty little
                       hair lip(fast over that
                       sad mouth)between
                       her eyes&chin; shes
                       got pretty bundles
                       of loose fat(and they're
                       her lips)she moistly
                       smacks around every
                       hem of whizzing
                       jackets skirting
                       hitherwither
                       with 'er wither
                       heavy teeth(shes
                       has green bits and
                       yellow bits, respectively,
                       thronging between
                       those thrusting ivory
                       cleats)she normally
                       wears and wears
                       death(so does everyone)
                       when she comes calling
                       ('tween october and december)
                       but she's just twiddling
                       (less like dead                             )
                        more like starting dead she's
                                                                               pretty like that
                                                                                                          (all rot and musk)
                                                                                                                                             she's gorgeous

big, pale, spider wrist a
with an old man onit
who in its legs lays
a notlikeoldmen
young girl (5maybe6or) 's

hand, which he tells, "dear,"
about how, "when I was a
younger man, and the world
a bit slower, pirouetted, a fraction
of youth whitely
with me                            and dear
someday
                  you'll

be someone's wife. who'll love you
and dear, you will be beautiful
when I, like now, your hand in my hand,

shall                       walk

you to him down between the real
prettiest fountain of petals
from your family cast
by hands that bore you
to this moment and pass you
into his
                 .dear, I on that day, will cry

                     and laugh."

i am was
as we're not

but not

as could

having
you

but
noing
shall

i

an i said
to this day,
"unsheathe yourself of this gray raiment and shed your glory upon my skin,"
alas
the sky's azure lips
remain in that state
we call:

silent

as usual a
                           b
                                      o
                                                u
t

me goes the supple trunks. thralling ribbons.
collapse;doi to the clutch of soft roots stupidly and muscles.
more now lightning strings coruscate ardently loving the earth.
vibrate femininity suddenly

            correct in my winter. hot petals meddle in the snow. and melt.

                                            i'm not who i wasn't
         or who
i am.                         frosted. but calmly:ami unfreezing in cup of dainty

    p
a
     l
  m   (s.he)  is the heat.

begin again
it comes starting
the end, again, begins
newness pressed between
dawn and eve is glued your
fresh smell atomized an instant
and mingles in the dancing dust
flitter mumbling pitter pattering
diminutive motes bump and
carouse in tousled hunks
of light

gilt in foiled amber streetlight bluntly buckled on my coffer p-coated and trundling meticulously a drafty cinder of pretty little veins blueing clicked small headed teeth blasting blond scalp and hot pinked lips they' were asking shyly if i'd a minute heat to burst the cool heap of tobacco splitting pleasantly her plush rinds a tube 'i"m sorry i don't smoke'

I                           ,        
                                
                                '
                                       ,
                                             .                                                                                       U
                                            ;
                                          ,           iN
                                           .
               who                      '
                      a                         ,
                      r                             '
                      e                        I           ,
                                                              ' .
                                                     ,leaves'
                                                 , '
                                                  ;
                                                   ' ,
                                               .
                                                    ,
    softly
                     and
                                suddenly
                                                    A
                                   complete smell of
                                  the ocean. salty next
                                  to a sighing forest
                                  tremendously twigs
                                  enormous. they are
                                   whispers, green
                                   and cold linoleum
                                   under my feet
                                   in the kitchen
                                   a pitcher of
                                   tea is beaded
                                   with sudor
                                   (soaked skin
                                    Spring answers
                                    outside) it's
                                    my hand, in
                                    freezing gently
                                    dribbling over
                                    my knuckles
                                    the half lit kitchen
                                    skinny hips
                                    of roses
                                    mingle with laughing
                                    breezes quickly
                                    glistening cherry
                                    flavored lips
                                    ,right athe
                                     edge of my glass
                                    outside(right against the window)
                                    pressed together
                                    (the counter and your thighs
                                     because sweat
                                      they slip around
                                      each, throb
                                       pumping, other
                                       your hair is stuck to
                                       sticking to your
                                       *******) the trees
                                       sway injust temporary
                                       daylight, behind
                                        the swelling,
                                        swollen draught
                        &

O eve
             O 1st starting nubile sparks
                                                          ­      O thrush and warble

         you skip tremulous and encroaching
       puddle o' dankness rushing oe'r blade and mountain
      you race the wind and gather up all the finite bodies of earth
     in your illustrious cool mouth and blow each face and stem thy
    kiss o' your illluminant clutching docile lips, which fornicate with
   the merry spades o' silver stars a digging the freshest grave of day
                                       (i'll fit into you
                                        the stuff of me
                                        in creases o'
                                        your foldless
                                        heaps and
                                        coiffes
             ­                           your hair marvelous and faultless
                                        staggers brightly
                                        from the pale splinter o' the moon
                                        and it eats me into
                                        the playful gnash o' its reticent
                                        fists
          ­                       )
         O
         eve
                             O
                            valley  and stream
                      
             (meet with me tonight
              beneath the pallor lady
              and we'll make love)

i,ve made love to a woman
whom twas a radiant fauld
of glamoring apath            y

yet i often dreamily
recall in lazy strings of lucid
her nice hair
                         or
patient grass

often as i culled the fairy heat, her *****

       i'd say in particular her name

a            n                                             ­            d           itt wasSUMmer,

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

it seems the sun is a flare of golden skin dangerously skinny light transposed elegantly on a tidy forest floor spreading aching breaths o

   f