miles away(go)
by

clicktrain by

     clacktrain or

bybusby or

        car


miles away(go)
where between
a city of roses grows

One thornless rose)its
stemwhich
thoughthornless
hurts to feel fingers

somewhere (
quietly)
there is a suicide,

the doors won't open,

and everywhere

it is raining.

Of how i am being
beginned
by the whorled blood
and the expressed chamber

i sit, kneel and walk
supposing upon earth
the each of my feet;

my hands kneed and fold--
i collect in them bodies of my children:
sleeping, awake, crying, laughing;

i collect in them bodies of things
unminded and minded alike;

i collect in them the sheaf
of spent grasses:
the hull of them
containing the celled
phantasm of God's breath.

i linger and i am not myself;
i stand before wall
and my gaze becomes fuzzed,
unfocused--and i wonder.

i touch and am known by my hands.

the things touched,
too,
are known
(perhaps)
by me,

in the quiet between
my buzzed flesh
and the smooth rudeness
of the thing.

i handle and am handled
by my loverwife,

(the coarse cutting
of her fine hip
hair is a needle

split

over the nerves
of my caress--

it electrifies--

and i am stolen
between the fibers.)

i am alive,
and how should I know it?

imaketherainwalksoverthebackofmyearsandIsigh:

"Good Bye"

in such in was springtime (hollyhock and thistle) girls and boys went nudely up their downs, into crystal waters of crisply straying health (when all noontide swung wide its gabled darkness hutch) and boysandgirls (in holly) went winter in its touch.

niTe?

do stars hang from you nimbly

dancing in breezes shook the

apple heavy bent boughs of

laughing gargantuan trees

                                            nite you are first me

                                            and secondly

                                            you are quivering with intense

                                            feverish quips of ladies

                                            so thick and exacting legs

                                            are completely tumbled open

                                            waxy perfect thighs

                                                                             (you are skinny limped

                                                                              skirts of light

                                                                              about the hair of forests

                                                                              you cavort with

                                                                              ***** sighs

                                                                              and you are so

                                                                              indescribably still

                                                                              even on balmy summer nights in the moment of an hour you are a park filled with me

and going about the beauty of your small adept

cheeks i do the terrifically kissing thing

and i love you

)

writing–i'm not sure–
maybe this
or that,

to fill perhaps;
between which nothing
is but pale.

some girls are like
the uncoming together
of deep mountains

(there are where

occaissionly it's been


flowers.          ) their hips



that part

at the parting

of boy ribs—




.

what could be more ridiculous than

this moment?the

sunmoon bloodfingers and

fucklovely

spate of effulgent  starlight; Darling that

your lips suddenly
seem to do? (my hands

the curling
of a cute cut
in clear water

a slendering
band of crimson

tracing the arcuate heap
of life's reeling–

caving to fill
in blistering flens
of brilliant
dying
instants–

,"I love you." the sand
a beach occasionally
the back seat of an old
car the sleep fitfully
morning of rising
too early into your mouth
a flower gleams by
broken of silence
sunburnt and smelling
of aloe rubs
with the cool rub of
coiled muscles , . ;                            (my Dear
                                                                  w
                                                                      e will die)
                                                            the night will
                                                            trun upon a blade
                                                            of light; our
                                                            skin will bunch
                                                            into delicate
                                                            rills of dry
                                                            coils and
                                                            dust become.    .          .                   .









                                                      BUT,

dear i will hold (you) that impossible violence of the first quiet moment of
your lips that i held slightly in my own i will hold it in my heart that
unbroken stem of your frail laughter of supple vibrance made my dear i will recall the hurt wildness of your eyes and bruise of your soft voice
my dear i will hold in my tiny hands the vast pulpit of your hairsong
and bloodpoem my dear i will forget not the dull and moments each
i will remember the early mornings and lashed travail of each lashing
voice.


                                   (My Dear I Will Hold You.
                                    I Will Carry You.
                                    INTO THAT NEAT DARKNESS
                                    . i will cup the serene mystery
                                     of every stupid minute of our
                                     body and dear
                                     i
                                     w
             i
              l        
                l

.

who again is this place?

(i see you there--alive and sleeping;
amongst white flowers)

i kiss you lightly.

i am sorry for all the things i have done.

i will love you always.

goodnight.

o do you divine nudely fingers of immutable almost Spring divide me?

more or less than myself when

arrives (shaking) the uncommon
coronet of your rain hair

(that dances)?(i do not go out to receive it my hands stay closed in night(my fists are very tight with darkness whose only breaking is hidden in your wet steepness of easy rain



falling


forever

.







































                                "A
          lot of the time I feel like I'm
               in love with someone
                    I've never met
                                  .
                                  "











































.

prancing ludicrous slick skinny muscles, the america opened small, gobbling bubbly musical. they were satiating in another room. and i was a wanting to burst up foetid partially digestion. this housed party **** is gross

.































                                ­                     O
                                                      yOur
    ­                                                    mOuth
       ­                                                   issO
         ­                                                      hOt

               (inside it feels)

                                                sometimes­tight

                                                          ­and
                                                             ­                      O
                                                               ­                 it dOes

                             when

                                                  Springtim­e
                          
                                    ­                           draws 'er

                                                            ­               pretty 'ittle
                                                          ­                                
                                ­                                                                 ­    nOOSe

                                                          ­                                                    acrOss

                        
                           ­                             yer neck
                                                               (jerks)
        
                                                ­                                                             and parts
                                                           ­                                                  (wetly)
                                                         ­                                                     light

     ­                                                                 ­                                        and
                     ­                                                                 ­                        (life)
                                  ­                                                                 ­                                        intO darkness

                                                       ­                                                                 ­                            strays.

when i do looking(eternally)into
your eyes steeply
the complete
ingenious potion
of their
smallest
drunken dots
eat the entire fullness
of me
and i fall into them
                                                            ­                      


                                        ­                                         4ever

she tastes like something
inside slick
and red between the legs,

her mouth makes lips
make hips
and i between them

churn thickly
over the cup and hem
hot within bleeding;

my mouth drinks her
lips speaking–
drinking lips

and mouth, my
fingers drown inside
her; i kiss over fumbling


and she tastes

(and i taste)

inside our mouth:

rust,

       .

Winking doubled 3 and by 3
he was down by a the an at
the very steepness of the grocery
outlet's little outlet shunting
to passersby his handy vanity(and they liked his dog and saiding so they drooped a coined palm and flatulated giddy tinklings

     he later utilized to *****

who am i
that i have been
my own self

in dark rooms
,perhaps,
reading

or

in silence
only

but

wanting to


SPEAK

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'",

are what the heart? some
fresh vehicle of kissing?) i have

broached in sinuous deliberate
matchless chords of straining music
                               ,
to break the fragile muss of intrinsic Spring
                               ,

in twain of pressless spent thrilling flowers

(whose mute crushing sends hardboys to war


)and propels quiet girls to wares.

this makes sleeping,
inside your slender,
the beginning song of life:

my lip;
the shoving of sudden fur;
your own quaking;
and the collapsed nerve.

and the each new little thing of it
(ever day)
makes life in smooth jolts.

love as a woman,
who wears within,
our love in something

very alive,
quickly with 10 fingers
10 toes and grows
inside that hive
where my love as flesh
has lingers.

.



































                "It's ok. Just breathe. You're going to be alright."




























.

such things as my own body i have been:

                 (the grass

                   the sun

                   the moon

                   the sea        )

and felt the big violent urge up
of the whole world's thigh
each stupid flens of men:

their hands that go out from them
and come back into them–making and destroying;

(who have i been my own hands amongst such things?

making much

destroying much?



                                                                  they
                                                             go
                                                     out

                                                             come

                                                                        back

                                                                                    IN

and they are so heavy
with nothing
even the grass
that will become them
cannot grow in such
a dark place                                                                                                       )

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

a leaf
who
shall
speak
Fall

    is
d
r
i ft
e          du

p


         on



the breeze;




                   l
                  

                        i

       l



                            t



        ing,



it pauses for a briefly infinite minuteness
only to lurch
suddenly
into
no
t
h
ing.

no poem with compares
to the stinging suddenly
up of what upward airs.
a moon half corporally

has by slow instant chance
itself in utterly nearness
2 on satin shoulders dance.
with no abrogate: queerness,

its indistinct afterglow
hugely downward under
openly golden star's grow.
has not by chance asunder,

the littlest death of bells,
to mountain quiver as rivers and in dells.

slips from nothing hugely poem of
light creating light by leggy moon
over whole earth palely tousled in
maimed and drizzled in silver curving
a point is risen amongst (man) and time
earth away sprawl echoes of finite
sleep.but though it moon over(in
a little naked comely heap of pert
and blazing tinder calmly foisted
between sabled ******* of aching
stupid darkness)burns how and fiercely
eloquent

o moon though small and nothing hugely
poem shall i (man) a poem slip by mortal
wiggling fumbles; and O moon!quiet sleeping
curves away silverly(into pimpled quavering
neatness)i muscle leanly dispute the soil
and up to you gallop sloppy gallons of kiss
(for you are most pleasant.UR round and fit
nearly in my lips (who shall pluck you from
between ******* and fill me burning
                                                                        )Lust

i am your body,


my hands the

dark hour between

shook cords of blinding day
                                                  ;

cursed
     /
coursing

of curved
hours distilled
          .distinctly

***** heaving
of

tight aroma .  Atoms,

hither thither
bump pumping

white into white hips

fissured

at the breach of

          .

(to you my love to feel
wishing within throat
to fold my most unfolding

into you
the hands
my body (yourbody)

tween shook cords

of blinding day

unto to this day(–drugged
as which with
the sonorous
pull of jazz                            )

a dream is born
of coiffed in sighs
of drunken fuzz

the hurl burl
clap trap
of Paris ,

occasionally a girl mouth;
tongues; the
divine laughter
deep

within thighs(

where lays
a flower of April

                         (

giddy young and tight

)

immortaly dying

)

and serene

.                                                                                            i
                                                                                               have stood in right fields
                                                                                                 looking thickly dark up
                                                                                                   at sky blue sun cloud and
                                                                                                      ***** steeply careening night
                                                                                                        digging little graves
                                                                                                           a 1000 1000 little graves
                                                                                                          burning tiny tombstones
                                                                                                         and keen with every hair
                                                                                                        on end lifting up my eyes
                                                                                                       to fornicate with the dainty
                                                                                                      fraction of frailing day's
                                                                                                     curving head
                                                                                                   i
                                                                                        drank
                                                                            of its corpse
                                                                         and was like
                                                            living and unliving
                                                flesh bone *** and magic
                                                  of dust and salt tasting
                                                     wind by the elbows
                                                     of incessantly skin
                                                   ocean stars spring
                                                    (and winter was
                                                   there but barely
                                             and it was almost
                                         warm and i pulled
                                       the loose leather of
                                         my jacket a little
                                        and
                                              





                                            )

I will return again in you. In these
hands of night, made lean and
gleaming. I will move within you and
my body shall be as light. I will turn
my face into your cool fingers and I
will love them.

(I will make my body in your body.
      "I will always love you."
                  Goodbye.

.














































                          "I'm sorry. I love you."








































.

"that christ was a good ol' boy
he was a good ol' boy with his arms hanging
with his arms hanging hung he was a good ol' boy.

he cured lepers and he
went like mad to kiss
their bodies rotting he
went like god's supposed to go
--right up to them--
and he hung his arms about them
and he cured those lepers he

died on a cross
somewhere i don't
remember he was
a good ol' boy

that christ."

blue inside feels:
rough from the
groove up shaven
closely to fresh
air stings over cool

–skull and neck;

where i wish
my hand could become

a certain smoke
of tense opaqueness

unfolding a flower
in sharp city nights

the enormous groan
of my soul;

and sleep in your dark forest
a tactile brace of slender light  .

(   i               love                  you              will           never                know      )

oh blood the
increasing
of your
quickly                  intense

fragile

     deepness

lurks with the hot sleepness of Summer,

whose languorous muscles prickle
(very steeply with clean waters of health
                                                                          )
.  straying

with new hands
of unmaking breath
between every flower
their fingers go into the
stems of young petals
making, by the brilliant
heat of life, some darkness wholly deeper

(completely more brilliant than

inside this face the body soft
the whiteness almost of
rose crismon
nearly drunk
and swinging




           (i can see stars)




two lewd random lips
part on kiss of taste like,
"do I like an ashtray?"

"No."

(rushing like steep twinkling of sleeping light–

how many more nights

i wonder )

you are like ( how can i say  )

a sliver of warmth made skin
of blood and bone between
**** shoulders of night.

i do not
know too much
or how shall i say

you are beyond words to speak

of a more nicely arcuate
a more darling
hips.

i think
(will not)
more or less of this
moment than
of your cheeks
apart against
mine in a stupid old
park i'm too drunk to
make your
cleft
stinging
kiss impossible to

my face by little flecks of
embrace by
warm wetness.

and steeply wonder on the rush of
a nimbly
stumbling darkness
rife with
too many stumbles of
rushing lightness–

i want to love you that–

i am dying this earth the stars and every

breath between;

we shall make of this
not anything particular
a shining instant
of touch

(to touch within )

some lewd of unimportant
totally

               Is.

.































                                                "Did you **** him?"
































.

o to speak
o to speak and sing
o to speak and sing aloft
o to speak and sing aloft a moment
o to speak and sing aloft a moment hung
o to speak and sing aloft a moment hung in night
o to speak and sing aloft a moment hung in night and dreaming
o to speak and sing aloft a moment hung in night and dreaming (mysterious sublime evil)

and to kiss every flower's little fist

scent sweet
scent sour

completely of petals clefted and parting

clefted and parting emits
to wreaking dawn a babe

a babe of green and many
green and many and soft

soft and many and green (a babe)

a babe mysterious
a babe sublime
a babe evil

(SPRING)

Dear are you)your mouth is
and softly when feels
your throat full
hard and me of(
you wet
is



                        sweetheart baby darling


i can and do you want
you do and want
me to
do you?

my fingers, baby?

sweety i can.

eating to fill with gagging
your mouth nose eyes
like starlings
chirp so
deeply
incessant

and like incessantly
a straling's chirp
your lips hang
hard open to
fill


and Sugar Darling Honey
i can fill so tightly it
my with flower
thickly

until its blossom do
like you want
to sap so sticky

Honey Baby Darling Sweety
i can and fill you
my fingers
and can
can i



                ?
            (Yes.)

a little raw beautiful you are the way.


                                            and ,ti evol I


the mouth that soft(that cruel) of teeth
and lips
is like it. thorn'd

and prim and

ringed in pinkness
of petals parting

on a pistil between.


such smoothness that rushes,
such skinness that prickles exactly
at the right arch
of its rising hips.

to meet with the riding
heartness of my surging taste:

blood and just
that tiny tang
of left behind from.




                                               (can i begin?)'(




and to fold you;
into my hands–as fists–
that unfold–inside you.

who are you
to peer beyond each thing newly
truly to
beyond peer things newing? (i mere things knewly

when yoully
were but twoly

truly.)

Beyond peer things

, wholy?

i speak let's say i speak and let's say i sing
whatthen?i sing; i say
whitely of your lips
i sing by them
i am lifted by them

they come beneath each foot
they come their strongness leaping
they come, and Dear, you
by them you charge

and Dear

against them Summer's dull

it shines not
it heats not
it feels not sudden or serene

for though it golden rushing thunders
your lips are far more perfect wonders

watch    from     go

(something sweet)

to
to                    tally

****           vicious


give  your     neck

around           me
fingers       inside,

teeth hands  full
with,
             "      ****."                                    Look


into his i want to
see you become
how,

           "swallow."

eating you out in the back seat of my car
your strum stinging
from where your voice
is quickly singing

i pluck and seem
– i reach and touch
– i, still and clean,

finger the itch stitching
of your corded and
dasmer throat .

i hurt with
knees to
garble an' streak;

to make in mouth
(where all sound i' meek)

my fingers
(as deep
in your throat)

as you can keep        .

sleep this most and Spring to lie
with tired tress and awkward thigh
apart that bit where winter slept
but now where stock and petals kept

a garden small and fragile sleeps
a'tween the hull and meadows deep
tha' bumbles bri' wi' nettled buzz
an' blooms with light an' shocks o' fuzz

a little rill there constant speaks
of need to want for constant peaks
(as like the bee that tends to pistil
the water feels to drink of thistle)

and feel the full when sharply stuck
by root and stem of urgent pluck

The first act of creating oneself is nearly impossible. Being that they must ***** the very plinth upon which all creating is later done–all plinths themselves been built on ever prior ones.

looking real smart between flats
and a bob (in a sundress)
stands some fun

with cute red lips i
think would

be nice
             to get inside

A moment perceived so clearly

A dash of neon

Against wet asphalt

Glows

Fades

wanting the good veneer
of boy eyes
girls
in tiny pieces
of neon
perspire
from the *******
of Friday

crawling up
their calves
into most life's
boywanted
aperture

skinnyhips
breaknice
onpetal's
singe,elated
dancethe
washof
summe­r'sgiddy
stomachtanned
taughtlush
faultlessribbon
ofAsmile
(singl­e)                 sings
                                
                         of

                                cheeks

                          ******

                                 with
                        
                      green


                                mint


                         and



                    taste




                                like





                             gold

.                                                                ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                      

























                 ­                                                                 ­                                you
                             ­                                                                 ­                     me
















.