just when you think you,'ll never sleep
opens up the rough muscles of nigh    t     and P
                                                                            O
                                                                                              oF

SUN);

                       you are colours brightest
                       in every lash
                       glowing tremendous
                       hair
                                                                                                             this only
                                                                                                             is such a fine
                                                                                                             it's unpractical
                                                                                                             and perfectly
                      even in the
                      fastest darkness
                      you are said more
                      loudly
                      roaring
                      to my eyes
                      every crumb
                      hot and naked
                                                                                                             creeping
                                                                                                             you up into
                                                                                                             my soul
                                                                                                             i steal
                                                                                                             briefly
                                                                                                             (prometheus too)
                                                                                                             some little
                                                                                                             blush
                     from on your cheeks
                     blooms
                     some hot neon
                     fire
                     (in the very deepness
                      darkness coddles
                      hushed lips)
                      and it is
                                                                                  love(

in common air i breath this city
it,s stretching streets beneath
cobalt languidly pouring

in every sound of it is me
and in every snuggle of
its abrupt colours is me

(it is usually me
but sometimes
it is me) who knows?(i know
                                                   )i contradict myself
                                                     i am a contradiction
                                                     i (transforming) constantly transpose
                                                     i over the snaking hotter asphalt
                                                     in rivers serpentine
                                                     cuddling my souls
                                                     my converse
                                                     me , i ,
                                                     into summer's bright hands
                                                     am a flock of colours electric
                                                     and a single bird
                                                     roosting in darkness
                                                     the night consuming

If I remember correctly there was, eating into the rough and big of a quiet and unsnowed languid mountain, a road neatly where trodden a boy and girl (all day) who came to the body of a lake in the last wisp of summer gently amorous of their shoulders suffused a wreathe of light on bough and stem. Gentler, still, who even than irrelevantly brushed their limbs in copper and beaded dew of striving youth. I, if I remember correctly, was a boy who in a summer one time, by the body of lake, knew a girl. who said,

                                                                                                                                                                   she loved him.

my HAND)
                    a drink
                                loudly
                                         was
                                    there
                                          cut
                                       by
                                         a slight
                                  wedge
                                         of
                                             lime
                                    it had
                                       also
                                    a sharp
                                        blade
                                     of
                                       mint
                                   in
                                        it
                                   ,a gawking
                                 boy sat
                               with
                                 his
                                         lover
                                  in
                              round
                                     *******
                                 fit
                                    his
                                eyes
                                     music
                                 complaining
                               and
                                     "the bass
                                    is too loud"
                                 she
                                      looked
                                 like
                                         spit
                                       heaving
                                  and
                                           a
                                      SIGH

Spring is tight between her thighs
((with DoeAndStag)
together

                  leaping           ).

Winter's nice her fingers deep
'round comely sickle
slowly reaping.

)Summer's **** her mouth is sleeping(
open ******;
swallow all.

(But nice is neat,
and **** is sweet,
)when all the trees are rapt with Fall.

spouted
                                  of the                                 cruel
                                                                             SOIL

       a dandy         lion          is:

          

                           P!OOf)

dazzling glimmer you eat the hills pretty
inside your first hour                                                                          
a girl lays                                                                                      
stabbed by my young
arms dreaming 'bout her stillness nestled fastly

           'gainst me temporary and my ribs
          (she wiggles into deeper thrusting
           that face unugliest and cloaked
           in gentle smiling lips)she kisses
           me by those two cords o' electric
           pink stuff and i verily
                                                 do love her
                                                                             my "stop dreaming" girl

                                                                                                               kiss me

.






























                                                             stars are the body your face is
                                                             the wings that crowd,
                                                             by pinions brilliant,
                                                             heaven's perfectly eternal neatness





















































.

what burst from limbs
in naked fire
?the sprout of love
A supple pyre

the body wanted hurts
itf
ee
  l
    s like in the morning stretched

hard to creep

too creep it feels hard
amongst a mile of cotton
and the stubble
of a clefted heaving

as cool drunk small white neat dappled

                    a through forest

whence from divulged the easy rent of
a green creeps with innocent glowing
bent nothing doesn't yield never gives
its mouth easily to my mouth (who
forks between thick pursed lips a tongue
raging to eat it)

for some reason:

stars moon sun

and

?why

for nothing as i can tell

save pretty

which is nice but

why and stars should moonsun

bright differently heaven

my hands are in you

my taste and my ***

you feel wetter  tight and

why

motes
nicely
still
in a
pale
amber
shaft
of
sunlight
somewhere
in a
toowarm
quiet
room
(feel
a hand
motes
suddenly
tremble
into
life
dance
wildly
)return
to
           stillness

it's so bright in you
i think seeing is hard to

          (too hard too)


                            in you is



               seeing




                    .

not in that
those ways
never were
but could
if
wanted

;


however
when asked:
they only bled


(silent)

Do you? who in marble stillness,
(thus reposed) under shade of
buckled trees and heavens hand
would with thee let me lay and
into quiet charging gushing
stiffly ever and

        for
ever;

let me tell you that even in the very fatally reclining Autumn some kind of blossoms do
gregariously stutter through human motes blundering in the sallow thinness of heat
and their petals are (though skinny) increase and increase again till bursts into
flame the ember of their crooning pistil a fountain of majesty (from which lust eats)
washing every face in sudden aching brevity, the immortal night, her pleasing coo
is as stars like and nothing also, yet of real body, in serious fatally reclining Autumn keeps
the vagrant heart

                                                                                                                                     the crisp sleeps

I lived while you were sleeping.

hulking with indifferent fragility
the serious mouth of life
is
         a redlipped girl

who winks
                      at me

from nowhere

Her is




                          some




    some drowsy

myst of being;            a





palpable drift




of



white white white sleeeeeeeep,




from the curt
lips of
dark waters                    



with tense sheen
of dull light



she fits
she slips


1 pill somnambulant


through drunk
through dowsed
coils in scarlet




laying
laying
laying



(in xanadu


           where




k  u   b  la          kh        a              n


a



                ­ s



                  t



                              a




t­               ely




p lea s ur edom edid de c
                                            
                                                r
                                               

                                 e
                                     


                                                e

listen dead
                     is a lot like sleeping

in the earth
                     where there is not

life and there
                       is wormness

there is eated
                       a faint uncolour

a body
             a quiet
                          a bigness

'cause livings
                        finiter

but dead's
                   unfiniter

it's a nice long forever where you don't rise but you do you come out the earth in a trillion spears of grass
you come out as a dandelion and your heads a delicately flared puff of cottonlike earthbreath tousled
and fractures in the breeze, lilts, doesn't cease and goes making more life
                                                                                                                                       and
                                                                                                                                                  dead
                                                                                                                                             wasn't ever

by what star
(or the shining of some invariably self)
shall guide the making of thy hands?

the excellent health or the
girding of some winsome wealth?

on what plinth of ethic, moral stands?

the body kept;
the jewel grand?

made or unmade a like
(a rule followed
is only valuable for).

hang me a poem through the mouth of night the slender smolder of cold
imprecise light that it might build into a thin strip of almost bursting
  intense colour(purpleandred). it might suddenly stagger up the
   common heap of sky--through the cheeks of white neatness--
    the blithe cursor of brutal dawn, spilling with such brinding
     creepness of light the thighs of earth full of lancing steepness
      all the wriggling of life shall commence with body lathered
       of youth in stupid love of dumb *** there will a coronet
        of hot dew wreath the pistils of flowers and the dirt
         will speak the rich secret of life in colours innumerable;
          the bending of words upon always quiet paper
           cannot meet with them the fullness of their
            drooping incantation(and lips cannot
             say with always talking mouths
              how deftly the primness
               of their serene
                majesty
                 is,

                  '

                        ,


             '

                                ,




    '





                                                           ,

this coming mouth over softly of sunlight

is subtle stuff and warmly arrives

through cheek as pink as rose
blood,

**** laughing, the

fooling of fingers in dark hair,

the rich surprise of lips
in a dark room
pinkly aware with morning–

grunts rolling over into
my arms and i

kiss its neck

(this small naked

alive's a more than little less dead
dead is 'cause

not life's hot bands

of colour

         a rose

a push of smell

that of holly and sleeping girls

the ocean, ceaseless

resting and

unresting

falls out beyond sight
moves tirelessly
abundant

and

very

      very


                  small

anon


                               what dreams may
          spread effortless poesy on the sheet of my bed

                  and

sleep softly stunning in the rapture of the night

i guess some day my heart will stop stop
my heart will less
cringing into my lungs
flat drooping stop
breathing my throat will
around not a whisper
fold my lips into
bursting stop
my hands will
more still not
move or
kiss the slender
girl of a

waste life                                                STOP

when those
children scream
their faces
make such reds
filling up all the green with their sad little i's
why can't
we
be more like they
make us
more perfectly
but noing
we speak in blisters

i love
you've are
been:

           (alive) and i,

kissing within
the sleeping dawn:

wide white awake.

our small shoulders;
who's naked makes
our heart perspire
1 leaf of grass.

you are gold.
your hair is.
your mouth does.
i sometimes.
and have always.

love kiss laughter sleep argue sweat dream kiss kissing inside laughter

h

      U

     n
       g with

just the moon your
shoulders up hold
the round round
round head of

your

                                      body
            ­                          bodyy
                                 ­     bodyyy


holds the down *******
of your naked chest's
white hilt springs
between round rounding
head of
your shoulders' point
pinnacle, pinnacling
at the white white hilt
of Your neck

fit fits ****
(droop obliquely)
swelling twixts
the rude triangle
of your hips
                      hips
                              hip­s(


and the white hilt
of your neck
blunders
with
the course forest of my hand
suddenly grown around it                     )

grown up it the
pillar of it to
the neat neat       neat neat

***** of your mouth. There

h
a
n
g
s

the yawning chasm

where
all throats
lead to
. Scream

ere it pressures the slated fauld of dawn.a
crinkl
    ed
          dearth
of leaden gray
                           o nth e sky
ont he earth
                         itsays

                                                                                wetness

.































































­













     "You might be a vegan, but I swear your skin is milk poured into the careful shape of your body."


























































­

























.

i am mostly i and i am mostly fascinated with women and their forms and bodies and the elegant fulcrum of their waists and the very softness of their skin and how the sun mingles them in the summer air they are the very ample petal of the earth and they blossom from the rough soil of it and they sing upon wind and i sing them. they are more beautiful than nothing else is more beautiful than they littlest and firmest flesh i would kiss upon them flowers and in mountains of them i lay at their very feet and i would tell each one how fathomless and perfect are their eyes (and they don't know it)

                                                                                      (but i do)

by spaded hand
the cloven earth
receives the root
a seed and weeps
a new flower with
fragile completely
petals that in even
meekest shooking
bend
           and

                     fractures

risky are you little summerspring

          ?wetbetween and eager for


(legs and fingers)

ivory, littlesummerspring, are you

and soft as

smooooooth as

long little summerspring spread

cherry and pink

cherryandpink little summerspring




                                                                                                                                                          




                                                                                                                                                              (and wet)

how Deep?a plunging softness
you,re an unimaginable velvet
in such beautiful darkness
achingslivers
wholly divest
                                       into i
every all
of your strange perfect
and we'll just break
endlessly,
                    ,
                         ,


                                                 ,



Alone

let's get differently. Electric let's

(you)sometimes get

,differently your

face let's
get red
hurting

(cuz you want it(




                   me to


ya want me too


let's





                        get,




                        .




                                     ,

imperceptibly delicate(from merest fissure
of night and day)in June
emerged                                          painfully
became              a

                                 butterfly

whose wings  a                               tempest
beat
         'pon
                   shoulder and brow
                                                           a precise

violent breath
silked in the leak of summer's yolk yellow
stickthickly
that lazily ate the skin of a flock of girls
giggling hard
                                                      satted on

the crumpled fold
                                                        of

                                                                            Lust

you, who arrive out of nothing,
sleeked of rain
drown by fingers all the pud-muddley world

and comes thy hair so soft

and comes thy blithe so bonny

as feet of snow
(where love can't grow)
and eats all beams a tawny

there will begin of my lips a certain impractical lewdness
and though ugly
it shall increase
and increase

till drowns it every other thing
and i shall name it

i shall call it

LoVE

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

feet, briefly, without earth
repeat
regaled
in sound neon and

with the ground
again
part
again
rapidly
with

precise
unfaltering
youth
mirthdrunk
and laughing

feels of a whole roughness
a heart cloven
seeps from a pair of oncenoble
girl eyes,

                   "sometimes I just want to die"

at that your, unstartled completely, without
hesitation because hips
                                          (an electric fire; inside me)


                       SPRings

to my lips
that fleetly depart
my face to be
where they are longing
to incise
the placid unhaired
of your

                             between thighs
                             velvet forever
                             notch

words, again, return to me
past all that blocks
--the poet's lee.

an find the void beneath my ribs
to fill by letter
--potent glibs.


alas! alas!
i've not a vowel,
'spite patient thought
and passion's howel.



(so turn my fingers; scribble's clutch,
hold the body
--reading's hutch)

in sleeping waking
i wake in sleeping
as sleep is waking

in the nice hollow
of dust and lightning
teetering softly
(aloft the feathers of
laughing flowers
deeply flowers
smiling sneering flowers)
in the crook of arms
nestled suddenly
in heaps of sighing flesh

i wake to sleeping
as sleep is waking
(thinking dreaming)
in plumes of colour rich
on the din of atoms
that is this self

1 invincible shining moment
comes crashing thoroughly
over the slack drawn tightly
instant your lovely fat lips
SmaS!H over me deliberately

the house is quiet the light is bedside
warm outside the sound is barely of
chimes (i can hear) i can feel the hot
coil of your leg snaring the almost not
groan of the big room is dusty with the
whisker of a cat shifts your hips (into
my hips) inching slumber deeply into
heat of closeness to body white and
shoulders cut curved of alabaster
grooving into the pale basin of your
chest at the base end of your neat neck
almost like talcum like light powder of
dusting the immense club of sleep is
your wrists are a tiny potion of
thousands of years of silence only to
live through 23 years a girl sleeping
enormously the room doesn't change
doesn't move barely a bit or budge
even more than slightly than a mote at
a time (4:00am) i kiss i cull i cup your
shoulders drinking the burning wine
of your heaped hips into mine
knowing someday you will be dead.

a green was talking
behind my house
on all the earth is
sprayed its lips
with whom
it says
hello