what avarice it doth crAVe so greatly in the odor of gold so a flavor is guilded our minds and we make our arms for it so we may hold more, i loved the dawn. gold enough for




                                                                        






                                 i

in autumn all light is
(more **** fragile drunken sleeping)
the earth
                         and leaner

                                               and leaner

rises uneasily in the morning stiff white
less

            and

                        and


                                       less


                                                    green(sproutsnone

                                           frost slightly

                                     instead

                             grows

                      just

                                   )climbing the death of night rib
                                     by
                                     rib
                                     by
                                     rib of sallow frigid air

                                     and in one enormous swallow:



                                        WHITE

SUN,

being you
being sheathed in

                       –rain

that
(drowsily)
purports between

two wet ribbons of
speckled with

impish

darling: ****** of light

            (grey and gray)

,

A city is suddenly.

on the ***** of pin rests the whole breathing and dying finite ugly world

cast in minute wearing

)she is fair and frail and far and far

Ffall, she shrugs shoulders and from
there stumbles gold in delicate smash
in aching sigh, in verdant crash
                                                                                      (the sun small i see through my window out there

somewhere a girl is probably sitting who almost)

i love you
i hate you

i hate you
i love you

i love you




i love you

frail i, in moonlight shall, march
up wisp of spring
into gabled spilt
juice
of curving dawn

orange
whose rind
like the human also
drys

           withers

                            sloughs

speak again sea
the ears inside
cannot hear
the certain dark sound

within you
(almost)

as shifts
almost

the air of your lungs
to rise through
dusted night of sleep

and

in certain care
the darkness of your spoken–keep

little enough world how up Up UP
in your frail face is a pair of slick
rinds coloured in the drowsy dream
of being,

a forest that perhaps
is filled with sunset being sheathed
in rain

its voice that
tinly crawls
on tremendous legs of pale wind

a fine club
is wield by
enormous strength of drunk hands

drunk with vine and pistil
(poppy and thistle)

that ***** ***** *****
the alabaster hull of cloud

(a single star emits
and dances upon fall
all the deadness who
turn their cheecks up

         –even their cheecks up–

at this death more,
bright

more




vital

taste feels to reach to
tongue
deeply between kiss

      (lipsnotlips)

where least sleeps spring
and calls by mouth

your hips to sing,

                              ,

                              ,

                              ,

                              .

nary the further root(nor nearer neither)shoots
reaching similar jeering your carnal fold whoops
a crown of pink, whose gentler thorns enshrined
the meekest cruel sweetness of with mouth combined
posits a slender abrupt howl from the heaving
noose of abdomens 2 backed seething
(a beast twained)
or so sayeth William

being just the flesh eyes
make electric,
blue that
the sky
occasionally will be,

or wooled over
in grey,

and A house will
suppose a window

before which
(being just the flesh)

skin will
zing
electric

over from
the palp of winds;

the hair will,
****** between by
some air,
bumble and ******;

the scalp will rejoin
with wine,
spilt uncarefully
in sips
through the gullet,
and the cheek will
renumber the blossomed
heads of capillary and vein:
being cloaked in pallid rouge.

violent You are like a biggest sound
cloyingly honeyed on my mound of massed
and singing chords
                                         (you are a rose most thorned and beautiful
    i clutch idiosyncratically
strangled scarlet petals bursting
                     a foal i;ve nursed with tremoring pits of bold
gangling and accurate stench

             violent you're a tedium
a lush and decaying growth
         so lightly cancering my cell
and I breath your daily blood                and i whimper first glowering fist

      my hand to take that penitent shape
                                                                            

                and i"ll whisper it



to their chins:
                                   they who art most a mortal folly
as to wade in my
                                        quaking presence


         andi


'              
           ;ll



     sleeep               them                           quickly rushing rushing



               oBliviOn)

there is i have said pouring full of mountains

LOVE

full and mountains

in the east of my heart they are

in the west of my heart you are

and between them soares nothing is
flat  for though rain

which falls and nurses barren dirt
a seed each drop
flutters into bloom
and love between
pouring mountains rains

EastandWest

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

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.

Luv all
love all
all things
all things neatly
all things neatly ugly;Love

all you are

you are ugly and



                            Y
                               o

                          u

                                    

                                              're


pretty nice
between your thighs
wettimes someand

easy nothing sublime                           ) you '  re

the winking
of a lash'd eye
wearing a girl
in boots.her
neck stands beneath
and her body does
a young hurting
of beautiful pain

which i like like i like
the way she
hands and her
mouth uses
her fingers
and her tongue(feelso good)

and love's her
in the morning when
i wander from nothing
and out a dream i stumble
naked into her lips a kiss      (        i

)the world
and fiercely in limpid orange
limps through 'er
into the sky
and darkness

a bit,


       .

i feel it most
in the startled quiet of dawn
my unfolding awe
as the verdant perfection of exploding light
snarls on my largest *****
and i'm a minutest splinter                                     in the

quick of infinity
                                          basic
                                                                 and ****

        ;i

there is a shape you are
the shape of a
cool
cool river
on a hothothot
summer summer

summer summer
day
day
day
day

(liquid cool;crystal between
the heap of your femurs
there is a tight tight
song of inside           ) i can and can you

hear
the slow and droop
of your crystal body
twinged with the caressed
lance of
awful day     (Let's Night) .


there is beach out there i have been to in the summer with you let's go

sits some thick blushed fitting thighs
around softly become
of mouth and lips

bump
bump
lips
bump

sits
bump
bump
sitting

***** curled
Summer
salt summer
fitting

petals in
doused
quickness
of aching
to part

on stem
on pistil

groans
groaning

the little house
of your hips

(where my mouth lives

love

i wish it could

contained within

the body
(of 1 body)

be.

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)

patient violence: wait at the breach
i'll let you captivate my sinew
when the bell tolls. resounding
activation; articulate fists dapple
cambered flesh

kiss pretty ugly knuckles
love the pain shower
b            u                t
so it tolls again
the exact ring of rest
calls to my hands
"steady breathes now,
in this minute"

i await it's summons to
birth
           purple
                         blossoms

your *** is like ****
(i think) and the backs of your knees
are like
i think. very nice to be inside of

i would you,

do you think too?

your lips and perhaps?

i would like oh dear to fit
like rain fits in April;
very wet and strictly.

oh dear and to eat you tinly i would hurt myself
with the hardness of earth. i would climb
into your fist very stiffly a flower. andear,
i would lay a hand against your unmeeting(
i would enter the primness of your heap
A mountain of unsleep. ) andear

i think you,

(do you think tooo)?

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 . . ,

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

Rise
that within
you there titans
of summer invincibly
gold stuff form'd.

Sleep
from which
shall their tumult
sing unbridled colliding
of days in heat's fold.

beginning closed, opened fragile hardy meadows outward from the tumult
of absolute stillness. a skull in every smile smiles quick wry lipless grins
in every skull it smiles amongst the bodies, youth soaked dripping carnal uncarnal, it smiles whenever the voices, **** and vividly, couple and
uncouple the twains of hips(& between them it's grinning, in their pumping
force & even in the ****** of the sudden exploding creation)"it's grinning right there, and someday when you lay in last and final you will say 'hello, FOREVER'",

kiss fingers hotly each
march wise
silked in
the fair health of autumn dying

(dying autumn lives so
dying and it hotly
body decays in petals
of orange and brown) up

leans the quick back of
and a mountain suddenly

where thickly flits a doe

between trees dying
she.

the and

dying's like
(hot between swift thighs)

a gush
of wires cloven

minglin'
(wit' fingers cloaked in)

the *** of youth's wet sublime

speak loudly silence lips less
about a word more dumb
and shiftless

forever

in the habit

of perfection

Χάρων is a nice fellow
by some gate
on the bank of a slow river

in the summer
his mouth
hints at
a sliver of
crisp mint

julep sweating on
the table next to my hand
occasionally a girl
between my lips

and the small body of
the city stretches
'round with
creeping dapples
of caressed heat

(and the slow bank of a long river is
waiting next to some gate i can hear
the boat creaking without weight and
all the darkness of forever at the backs
of my eyes.

i could kiss you through the tongue,
straight into the mouth
behind where the teeth
lick feeling the chips

inside your plaque
and the florid
cheek
pricked over
by the running nail

vermillion, garish
and extremely
sharp(oh

they are tracing
the precise shape
of your ***)

a hulking
of which
strands the
gently coiled
of your wrist
within my hands

its hold folding
within folding
the bounded
rhythm of thy
pulse:

"I want to *******".

this moment is drunk
and occasionally says
dark things of remembering

about pushed apart legs
in April when it was alive
and something loved it more
than living–cooing even

into its soft ear vaguely
promises of forever and
keeping through death
its hands and lips and feet

     (whoosh)

but goes through the mouth
and nose hot dollops of dreamless
wine occluding speech, taking

tightness and smashing it over
the head with a memory of
a coy poem that tasted like the
sea in your mouth when

it sat on your face and
it was the only time it was ever
–truly–
                

                Alive.

my arm

it was

                it was trying

it was my arm was trying

it was trying to say

              my arms was trying to were trying to say my arms were

saying

                blood

mind ,
doing
     the    flesh
        thing ,
  sits
occasionally
    standing
(sometimes)
    when
and if
   the undull
sudden
   happening
of body
  arrives
through all
quiet darkness
a vibrous
  and
luminent ,

     "Hello."

hello dying you look so pretty
in short shorts suddenly
over skin a little,

                            .

                    hangingly
with increased health
the air up outside my
  hillwindow

                            ;

each graciously
perceiving thigh
a thing full with
lush and wonder

                             .


                             .


                             .

                             groped with hair
                           with
                             some
                           short
                             shot
                          through
                               by gold
                          and like you
                                   dying also
                       sun


                             ,

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

shoulderBlades meekly scrunched, hard, together shoulder blades.
Before me shoulderBlades and spine curved up to head, raven coiffed,
hair pulled, lipbiting, shoulder blades: you've got monsters inside you

     've

got pain, cuts, and bruises inside you

                 've

got pretty eyes and dimples and you like to wear flats, tanktops, and skirts.
But i like how your monsters taste like molasses and sulfur, they taste like
fingernails(turquoise)rending. And your cuts feel like lace and razors they
feel like your waist in hands thick with me deeply in you: shoulderblades.

u c now? Grass is me. each glowing blade of it are my limbs R grass
grunting up to skyward professing such greeness and full of vital
light,
         it is so supple and it by lakes is me
         and by napes of rivers it is me on end
         it is my hair and it's electric in me
         singing some song majestic
         yet so quietly
i know it as i would know a lover(if i ever trod on my lover
who was softly cushioning each fall of my wiggling toes
with their strong little body)and it knows me because it
is me, i am the grass and i grow with the wind on me
and it is my friend(for the wind knows best the grass
(save for maybe the dirt(who is my wife(for she takes
my root deep into her and bears my seeds to the air))))

i'm a straight curve. burning cool ****. and nothing opened breathtaking shutters peaceably. i flexed shattered notions and crepitus crept sundripping ******. a feminine spark ferociously naked. between her ******* i'm god.h!

life is an improbable nothing
it is a muscle
it is *******

it makes hands with hands
and speaks not a word

nor is a number

nor is countable

it is a whole and it is a moment

beyond heat, it burns

and say i (life little; life improbable)

speak not a word
be uncountable

be not a number

.                          



                                                                                    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

i wonder what death i'll wear when the soft scalpel of flaying darkness visits the veneer of my stocky bones. i maybe think i'll touch the vale and tear an onyx breath by cleverly decaying lungs, who by swift retracting fascia i'm a pulsing ***** of health. We'll all go there, lay in her soil bed, and unmotion unfinite..
                                            .

there is the world so much i think i have felt it

have felt by it
and by it felt

so much it
(the world)

who in droves presses ugly Spring against me
who in heards comes dying and immortal
who in sleeping flowers laughs most
(the world

by sting invisible
impulses each rotund death
of lungs upon heaps of dying
to go out and wear more gladly it

it girls laughing
it boys sweating to be first
it arcuate of hips
it thundering of industry
it of millions tinly each


each pointless
each fathomless
each more than last
each next than other
each the other than the next

i think and i have seen by it
and have i?
way north over the barn where goes the winter
when in neatish crimson hulking ****** comes

first small coming

then steadily gargantuan

Summer

in deep veins of failing gold
only to brittle
only to fold and tousle
only to rubble and quake

alas

and i have thought

alas

and i have read

alas

and i have felt so proud to get at the meanings of poems

) but ever have i known it?

No.

i have not been my feet to push of it a million splendors

i have not been my throat to scream so loud my body shook

i have not been amongst its people

i have not tasted

i have not been by the skinny bank of a winding stream in the middle of Summer when the cool water tickles across the span of each toe the wholeness of being

i have not kissed so long to love

i have not breathed so long to speak

what then can i say?
but do i say it?
of course

i say it by hands between quick thighs
uncurling hurting bruises of hot sharpness

i say it in the hunched play of a girl's wetness

i say it in the calm stroke of a withered dog's scalp

i say in quiet moments as in loud moments

i speak(and i always speak)

and i think i have the world so much by it felt as to know it

and i think i do not know it

and i think it is not so much

and i think i have not felt it

it's the clavicles her
the
inching of

the
(her)the

vulnerable teasing the

at the edges pink the

trimmed in neatness the

amble of girlness palish

(******* just and
softer coiling
hushed by
an inch
of boyness)

she(the)her(the)

by the way sir(the)

i 'er the
gonna perce ya

a radiant by the folding o' yer faultless gleaming
(spear to plunge)
your heart and *****

a rill to let
of crimson mangé

feels good reading whitman reading nietzsche reading christ and feeling cool between the pages of neat words how many songs of myself there is sung how many days of summer spent inside quiet and dark dark inside quiet and summer to put my teeth in and roll over the tongue the tense dew of youth and drink the pollen of easy flowers.

(to be where you are amongst your neck and your shoulders feeling needfully hunched and youthfuly broken )

to break and to be broken by–

upon rocks
upon skittering
coils of noonlight–

(the trees mark it there is a path very deeply within them

where there is cool and etherized
by curls around of night smoke)

But all that wants to be
to be inside
(to taste)
and to meet with

the uncertain darkness
of life:

girl hips, 2 in the morning, the ocean

.






























"What have you been doing these days?"



"Trying to become myself."






























.

do you(dust)feelemptytinglingD
                                                     u
                                                        s

                                                 t

do you feel elegant quivering elatedU


                                            S



                                                                  T


in pale and in comely glued arrivers
sharp straight white.do you feel cool
touched (your shoulders nape sternum
) brushed gentler climbing rapidly
quivers AND u            s                                                  t


do you whorl 'pon my palm?as presses
through your body its kiss fastly andUST

do you know, between light and darkness,
FLESH?
                 do

         you

                   know

      lilting


                     fl

              utt

                        er

         a
         n
         d

                                         hush?


(you know.

                        as know i.


                                                         you)

unnicest winter die please cold
and let Spring unlaboured
                          unclosed Spring come

please, winter dying, that for you
coats and hats
tightly of bodies worn
from the slick ice
thinly which veils
the limbs of trees, naked, save for
thy