?
this dawn was a
laughing she
s
p
i
ll
in
-
g
staccato chromatic cacophony on
blind tissue

(erasure of inky displacement
speaks of erroneous discrimination)

happy her make crimson vibrations

casting off her melancholic  i

this day it felt

     it felt

         i
t
     fe
                lt like AUTUMN?a

    sprig of decay in every cell of

       rusty leaves. the murmur of.
streetlights likeit. the damp friscalation of mangled chromatism

   eve meekly plastering my skin. are we? i am. your me



                                                              






                                                                          MY LIFE SAID: hello?

This)
dream,
  this dreaming
   sleep, this sleep
    of dreams, this
     sleeping Dream
, Your edge is soft and hard and keen
                                                            ­   A
                                                              r­eaping
                                                          ­   reaping
                                                         ­   reaping
                                                      ­     thing,
                                                          ­A sweeping thing
                                                         a silken keen
                                                        shar­p and cruel
                                                       and kind and clean
                                                       A crumb of eyes
                                                        long­ and lean
                                                         leaning cream
                                                          d­ripping surly
                                                           ­ steam
                                                          ­   Steam, you who cling
                                                           ­   to hours short
                                                           ­    and large and green
your beginning mouth
between whose agile slippery lips
  a furious creeping mouth,
   a fresh and nimble mouth,
    leaps, slinging tumbling
     a city of thoughts
      chuckles fast
       slow laughter
        on the hours i slay
         in nooks of cotton palms
          ( where Sleep is dreaming
              a sleeping Dream
                 dreams of sleep
                              )

"i've examined the threads of reality and come to a different understanding of things"

(it was like that That i came to this me that i am currently;

this thing
it did:
hid
in that
penumbra
pooling
'round
cognitive
conjugations
of
postulatio­ns
peaking
above m(i)
unconscious

i tried to lift
its heavy
concept
but
synaptic
sinew
frayed
on its serrated
flavor
severing realities
from
actualities

this was how
i
liked her best:

pallid roots
spread
some soft wet
in their twain
drawing
an oral sepulcher
to dine
on hertenderleaves

(i bent my lips
in grinning countenance
at
that infliction
i did
visit upon              a
lovely sundrenched
tree)

this whole self
1 thing: i
so richly
in language
sinewed
will to say
a flower

a fully
uncoupling
hot bud
and i am a
season
(like Spring is)

i am a spit of
verdant boiling
fire(and i open

my chest

and out
ruptures

petals,

   .
       ,

   ,

not in that
those ways
never were
but could
if
wanted

;


however
when asked:
they only bled


(silent)

how deeply flowers
in spring's warm fist
(between whose fingers)
, , , , ,mumble lithe plumes
of cherry cotton
and sugar virile
(the candy of sweaty days
waters in the clamor of
my mouth) monumentally
perfusing rills
(trickling out Morpheus' ear
                                                  (
and into thy own))

through
               )running forests
                i am galloped leaping
                (step before step after
                climbing the air swiftly
                to the moon creeping
                over every wind quaking
                bough) spontaneous
                twinkling tinsel enamors
                completely the smooth
                satin cheeks of darkness
                upon lightness
                quivering
                absolute small unfamiliar
                newly cheeks embossed
                with sparkles furiously
                                                           where
                                                                       i set myself totally
                                                                       fornicating
                                                                       with every drab miraculous
                                                                       muscle
                                                                                    of a night
                                                                                    wholly
                                                                                    drunk
                                                                                    with flesh(

today the sun was in everything
shimmering without cease
with seamless jointless fingers.
the massive ginger
of his unfleshed hands
prickles (barely) necks.

so heart tightly unopen
in packed a whooping
collared beast niggles
sharply by fingers mostly
hands' unfurled in
a star of dreaming wars

the lightest and body
feeblest is strongest
nearly firmer than
softest barely weaker

and flowers
(a big spit of petals)
burning thigh deep
into waded Edward
after him i'm
leaping freshness
of my complete mystery
ripens against darkness

dashing(withclosedeyes)
on the mouth of the sun
where is set my teeth
the silver and her moon


                                                          ­                                               ,

tonight was an exact corpse
of beautiful slushy soap
foaming against the jowls of undeath
and life was roaming hitherwither
in slated motes of burning blood
turning sweaty beads of laughter
in the swollen wind of unday
peaking bravely over the many
glowing rictus wearing gutted
orbs
precarious on the porches child
heaving
and sugar vomited doorsteps
strewning the mellow
darkness
young

toothick
a( song of roses bustled from her throat
                                                                     )
       sort of dangerous song
the sort of thickly dangerous music
that accompanies pianos
(and thighS
                  and *******) on saturDays
when you don't expect at all to find at all that sort of skinny innocent danger
thickly burnished sheets of heaven
in your b     e      d
               (H     A)!

t
rickletri
ckletric
kletrick
letrickl
etricklet
r i
c
  k
l
e
very cognitive
s
  t
    r
   e
a
   m
runs in rivulets
into her
moist
crevices from
the extracting of
my sanity
in splintered whole
partiality

l                   a                         y
your
hands on that
stiff minute
full with (brimming sensuality
a void of reason
opens in me my i
i beg her)

voiceless current: moan a gossamer delicate

i
try to
speak
even though
my voice
shakes

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

unbearable ink
shallow needled skin
always commands
my groping eye's ardour
  purpleredblueblack procession
passive pleasuring tea drinker

          gilded she:
if not my hand so promised
      to another's i would
make thee a screaming puddle
          coiling ardent fever
scratch fervently at all my humors

so sipping sensual lady
      sat in a
coffee house
        metal nodes glisten
serene siren calling

unclench
the hot marvel of winter
and lay summer in thy bed
twiddling between her wetness
a sharp steam of pleasant filthy snow;

Unlike wind. tall and walking leaf's
curling in bushy locks of. the very,
naked and servile, moon she's
street bounding rills of semisweet
chatter. the togetherness too much
,in,of comely arms a fawn thing, in
the forest of metal's. just leapt vanishing
smoke, into, the carnival of neon
large singing signs. post day well,
in gloom unanimously, slunk with
girl's skinny. they brushed fair and wane
as light's face creeping furtive


                                                ,        "weLL­
                                                         i was said
                                                       in those walls
                                                     sterile and seething
                                                   manic lewd gracefully
                                                  stum­bling,
                                                          ­             i
                                                               ­        was mounted with
                                                            ­           paint of sinning luscious
                                                        ­               lips who carefully
                                                       ­                rampaged, blithe node
                                                            ­           ,a noggin, mine.
                                                          cavort­ing straight narrow
                                                        un­bent sharp green eye's slip.
                                                   s
                                                  l
           ­                                      i
                                                p
             ­                                   r
                            ­                     i
                                                  g
           ­                                        h
                                                     t
                                                       i
                                                        n
     ­                                                    t
                                                         o
                                                        M
     ­                                                   y
            ­                                       f
                                              a
               ­                         s
                                  t
  ­                      D
                            r
           ­                     i
                                      n
  ­                                           k
                                                Down my throat" (ouch!)

("i love you")
        the
sweat smell
the
kiss spitly,

fork tongued
and paired
swollen of

pollen drugged
and cool sweltering

pale chested and
tight limbing

of neck throat
hand swallow
finger filling.

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

i want you. the
coalesced flower of
Autumn in
wriggling manifolds
of
freshest
death,

that by who
paints with strokes of crimson
their brush becomes
the coy feather
of once a month
between
your
thighs:


                                                           blood

erupt gradually a forest
of my limp and eager throat
green ponders waifish

slee  ep.  .   .

              
                though

             you
                   are

                           awake


i am alive in you;


      (in thy body–

          and amongst thy leaves

            i am naked and fragrant )



i am touching the cool spine
and the cambered wrist;
lightly mute, **** and bruised
with dark veins.

your cheeks are pale;
your eyes are soft–
hugely brimming
with neat darkness.

you come over the mouth.
you hold the breath
between delicate fingers.

you are nearly kissing,
each nearly moment of body.

you move with quick slowness:
never rushing,
never uncarefully treading.


((s l ee p..   .

though

         you are alive;


i am awake in you.

                                       )

                                       )

waiting for listens to hear,
for her quick feet–a doe
in white skin

thinks it's
pretty to be
choked and

loves
t   o
sw al l o w

it was cold your heel hurt and i'm sorry because we were walking to get some food i was thinking about how you are so nice to kiss and "this is magic" the world and your eyes and the easy body of your silence between the houses "this moment" and my hands full of box with scones i couldn't wait to see you smile


"I know it's ridiculous,


                                                but I'm serious."

it's dark a cat shifts
springing the sheets
stir you the cat
and a branch outside
the window taps taps
taps the window outside
a branch it's dark the cat
stirs the sheets spring
and it's dark you roll
over and somewhere
a dog is barking

there's one long gun
girthed in boney stable palm
and finger flicking death rattled
sweetly copper children
a patient rind of health,                                    for thou and whence
                                                                             it girdles profusely
                                                                              a blatant death
                                                                             of vibrant pulsing colour

w

          w


                        white is girl talk

                        


                                                              ­   l

                                                        ol

  ­                                       vol


                      evol


levol

ylevol

teeth opalescent silky















                                            ­                                             it's big


















or small

immediately after






rainsomesummer
wetly (whose shoulders are star struck shining
             manifold upon manifold of dewy ******
             shakes
             a
             nExact
             excellence of pearls straightly
             more fragile than
             the bulb of a wilting flower is fragile
             but whose body is strong beneath it
             tall with muscles
             and wears laughter like a coronet of thorns)


                        emerging
                                           timidly
                                                        d­estroys
                                                         ­              by
                                                              ­             velveteen
                                                       ­                         breath
                                 ­                                                 the tightness
                                                       ­                            of closing eyes











L





































LO







­
















































LOV












­
































































­




LOVE

does up what seems a little clumsily down snow?

White and
White and
White and

everywhere, perhaps?seems snow

seems no

edge or fay

where might Spring's lewd fingers fit?
lewd fingers fit fat
lewd fingers find fickle fair frayed a bit fay
where its fingers can fit?

(the sun)
whose thick fingers
between the quick thighs of night

       can. fit in)just Spring

with what
cleanness
are wife hands
whole

in whose
joining
are the bodies
of my children

And

my wife’s body
in who slept
my children

whose breath
were
their breath

whose blood
were
their blood

carrying
the crumbs
of a little life
through
biggest
Death

i lay in grass stilly
departing myself
                 into heavens exquisite face
whose boundless leaping freckles shimmer
most gracious and profoundly
consuming the frail last light
into its infinite chaste *******
(only to bud it out again
in little ****** o' glimmering)

dying's like
(hot between swift thighs)

a gush
of wires cloven

minglin'
(wit' fingers cloaked in)

the *** of youth's wet sublime

kiss has been the turn
the twist
upon
the folding over of roses

over roses

into.

I.

do you know?

have you been?

have you been by the slant ways behind the hills there is store and have you
wandered much in it?

have you gone down the little rows and counted them?

have you looked into the tired eyes of weary mothers and fathers?

have you seen in them your mother and your father?

have you kissed with them your thoughts and wondered on the small
mystery of their being?

have you wondered at them looking at you(and what do they see)?

have you thought to reach out and touch them and ask them how they are doing?

have you wanted to look in their eyes and tell them that you know they are tired but there isn't much left to go and you know how hard it is and that you are sorry and that they are as soft and as infinite as your own self?

have you dreamt much?

have you gone out from the store, into the nice mouth of the city, and have you seen the same tired look in the same weary bodies?



II.

where have you been in the Summer?

have you been by the bank of a river?

did you let your toes in it, and did it feel so cool as to rush across them you suddenly want to pull them out?

and how did it feel, the first time you were kissed, and sweaty between the arms, you pushed in even tighter?

have you laughed much?

when was the last time you laughed?

did it feel as if it was the last time?

did you watch your laughter curl away into nothing like a vine of fume from a smoker's mouth?

did you watch it curl away and wonder if you might be lucky enough to laugh tomorrow(and did you wonder how many more days and nights you might be lucky enough to not laugh)?

did you cry after you laughed?

did you look down at your hands and marvel at the intricacies of your bone and flesh?

did you ever hold them up against the night sky and marvel at the tinniness of their work? (have you held them up before your face in a dark room and wondered what it would be like to not see?)




III.

have you struggled much?

do you ache, and are you sore?

do your muscles hurt?

do you feel heavy with obligation?

do you feel tired from living, and with life?

from where does your pain begin, and where does it end?

did it begin in the hands of someone you thought you loved? did it end in the empty stare of someone you thought loved you?

have you hurt anyone?

how did you feel?

did you tell yourself it was ok?

what did you tell yourself?

who were they?

why did you hurt them?


IV.

are you awake?

are you reading this?

will you wake up tomorrow (and every tomorrow until you don't), and will you remember this moment?

will it fade into nothing?

will you recall it suddenly in some still moment?

will you look out the window of your car on your way to work and catch the sliver of some stranger's face in the quick of your mind?

will you wonder on their life, and the sliver of your own face, caught in their mind?

and will you remember?

will you remember?

heavy all the quiet laying music thickly between livingdying November

is suddenly stirred

at foot through many

running and laughing children

(wisps of growingfrailing stuff innumerably sheathed in a smalling pat of pale light)they

charge and roll up a hill by the school yard, boysandgirls together

boysandgirls together up going


                                                                     a hill

(whose mothers stand at the bottom and try to catch them when they fall

this thing is very pretty.
it does not say much,
its cheeks are pale over
and beneath blossomed with crimson.

it has 2 light eyes
of greeness which
move softly over the nose
and lips–2 florid strips of pinking.

its hair is spun of evening sunlight,
red hushed and riven with ray.

this thing is rare
and beautiful
and lovely beyond lovely.

this thing is a girl,
she says
her name.

her eyes move softly,
and her cheeks shine as blood with snow.

few things have ever been so perfect,
few things have ever been so girl.

things eagerest, in ring time,
(the only pretty spring time)
ding a ding

                        a bird sings

dirt over clean

                           sweat lovers

sting
              and
                        sting

.                          



                                                                                    fuckable






                 the





                                          haireyes





                                          morning roll



                                          her pinched





                                         cleft

                                        wafts hard
                                        smelling of seagirls; i splitting
                                        wet
                                        crack
                                        stiffly her the


                                        fingers

                                        ENTeringleAVE
                                        dewed
                                        in
                                        A
                                        Shout "yes"
                                        (ok again
                                          i will)

                                         push her up
                                         me to
                                        
                                         sighing wider
                                         apart
                                         yawing
                                         thighs
                                         extremely
                                         taste


                                         li(ke
                                         brine tastes sweetly sour
                                         )marching through
                                         mouth across
                                         tongue

                                         throat and hand
                                         "please"
                                          tightly
                                          "hert me"
                                           and
                                           "ok" i'll

(dreams)
                  just
                           thickly
                                        and
                                                  copious
                                                                 what like pale
                                                                 towers ascend
                                                                 nights to heaven
                                                                 in which sleeping
                                                                                 fair
                                                                 winds ma
                                                                 gi
                                                                       st
                                                                 r
                                                                      a
                                                                 t       e
                                                                 the lewd buds
                                                                 of lilacs and
                                                                 poppies un
                                                                                     opened
                                                                                                   buds nudely
                                                                                                                        before
                                                                                                             crocuses
                                                                                                                         and
                                                                                                                    between 2
                                                                                                                          sheets of
                                                                                                                                  softest
                                                                                                                               cotton
                                                                                                                                     the innocent
                                                                                                                               sugar petals
                                                                                                                                      of their bulbs cleanly
                                                                                                                              is sundered

down the ups of the very backs of streets
just skirting the very edges of napes
the cities slightly tickled little hairs rushing
up it's thighs, colluding thickly bushy
barely about it's "ooch!" it's "ow!"
it's youth rimmed slouching pocket
hollow fully bursting. empty so crowding
tightly packed cheeks, clumps of giddy
gurgling songs pumped lazy chords
they sickly punch the nooks and crannied
edges flourishing the rainbow bright
chatter of lungs that taste the air so
healthy and so long. "Tonight, as the day
goes 'Wee!' over the ******* wallop
we"ll higgle wiggle in it's corpse
our skulls and merry bones to
frothing jowls overwhelmed with boisterous
young hearts supping it's crudlicious
pillow, supple and rotting gums
the large lit teeth of whom bust
right to heaven while we fling about
their oblong towers our shales
of *** and magic;

to live which what life beyond being

   (is there some I

stagger up with moonlight
the cool instant breath
of standing hot between
nothing and nothing                            )



vast and vast and vast



that enormous when of feeling the wind
around drunk drinking of the texture of a breath:

collapsing the condescended body of the moon stars laughter just inside the house outside which dreams the world of rain darkness and the impossible languor of health–


the need

the urge

the rush

to quietly pursue books of open girlness;

pages terribly comfortable to grasp and fill within letters of self.







how which we desire what to be perfectly exact of easy being:

the frond which stands strong without tending of hand–

the garden filled with the immense flower of youth.




And never to die,
never to grow old
or weak inside.



(what an impossible thing it is to know; to love; to live                    )

what an impossible thing it is to laugh

the eyes turn over fingers
turn over wine and flesh,

teeth tasting and small
inside the hips

(where my mouth lives
with 2 blades of youth.)

of the knit of life let's say there is something.

something so wonderfully to touch.

so beautifully easy.


Let's say of it fingers,
between its hair,
laughing.


Let's say of it,
with minute teasing brutality,
a slendering of being. instantly

which shudders
steeply into breathtaking darkness. let's

say wide our mouths to eat it.

(each morsel turgidly serene)

let's say dying(and let's).

die easily into it our bodies
as wan incredibly infinite destroying.

Winter's coming did you feel
it this morning
walking
there is

DEADDEADDEAD

everywhere

leaves which

(did you)

crunching between

hoofandroot

the mouth
and which
enumerates the light

bending
unbent
fleckless strands
of sunlight

rich in mote
and flaring
about which
the coalesced

atom of LIFE
hangs
(hung
           )

ever so
and briefly which
we all are
but

just a

rich mote

hanging
in a beam

all love
through
the crisply murdered toto
of uncouth faces


    (FALL)   i want to sing




inside you once again

each crimson bending
of vein

the accidental flower
of my hips

some death living
more hotly lathered

in young stupid
lovely dumb lips,

(noth shaping)


unelected silence
that sings to me:


i might feel O'
your primrose hands,


whose palate
,in plushy sward,
cannot house

or unhouse

               the lord,.
                             '
                                ,
                           '


                                    ,


                     '                  
                                                  '




                                   ;




                                    .

think: what muscles
(the heart's
are stronger) often

they coil in distinct
perfume of girlness; soften

(fiber upon)

and weakness easily
becomes:


think

say numbers the little white toothed
sliver of a grin
hair breathlessly tousled
about fingers stairs
(winding)
upwards constantly
tall moments of absolute singleness

into 4 hands
2 fingers inside
lips strictly around
to eat 2 lips
30 minutes of
ultra caressed
hyper scrupulous
tense heaving                      ;


say numbers
7,205 seconds
until reaches
the startling pinnacle
of über sensuous
gangling drugged
with blonde milk
suddenly supple
between, "my dear,"

count as to count
by more than 20
digits to feverishly
blunder through
hurried wanting
to crush,

( say numbers and speak not numbly
  of the nimble bumbling of thy pale
  fracas an earth will be born from
  within wishing will to will unworried
  a fraction cut beneath the navel by
  a tremendously incalculable urging
  to rush              

                                            )

Fall
       U
           1 somnambulant princess
              from
              heaven dearly
              creaking
              hushed
              tumults
                                  U
                                    leaking flashes
                                    in Paris
                                    U have a wry lipless smile
                                    struck leaning
                                    against a church playground
                                    smothered
                                                        in you child dying
                                                        Ur a playful
                                                        hair seriously
                                                        sets the dirt on edge
                                                        and all trees
                                                                             inU
                                                                                   are nudest
                                                                                         by bell ringing
                                                                                                                  in a church yard
                                                                                                                                             leans the fair
                                                                                                                                                                  mushy
                                                                                                                                                           uglywonderful
                                                                                                                                                         body of
                                                                                                                                                         U
                                                                                                                                                          Fall