90: Hate me now.
It’s up to pond structure to model passivity discharged by shore conditions. Only don’t drop in.

The pond holds scraps and parts of nesting authority, an after-loss. Rainy tomorrow. I join you to re-reference an arrow and bow made out of many purposed m.p.h. gusts — and this is my body as well — a priori nil in inner life razing names of sorrow.
This is not a test. It’s the blues. But who can tell if it goes well.
We’ll leave it at that.
The place was beautifully democratized with process.

Yet our processes blow decorum of law...
Also, it’s easy for you, suddenly, brief minutes, to have less to eat to soften your last interruption using little consonants in your throat.. oft predicted, you’re holding firm. How many blue songs of parallel scenery can democrats take?
By the way, every right wing worm thinks / every owner of a worm is subject to restitution
even as most tax experts evoke cuddliness w/ breeder values clad in brute colors.. I’m here too, waiting for everyone I can’t stop waiting for.

I live in a container house near the city

and wait on nothing at all, only sustained focus and innovation in nowhere equivalent to a disc. I won’t do it, nah, many thanks.
I work in text and garden, that do? .. I’ll grieve later on, turn to pen and ink for human voice breaking glass in an r v to drown out the dog track.

Style is a digestive structure in zoology. 


We were wondering about invention of the planets, empathizing
With a numbers guru also the director — one of them. Yours and mine.
Often that’s a normal baritone and determinative section to sing.
Not foes, no spite
Sing: Pigeons pattern heaven where detachment cut back! Getting
To there uproots the light series, exalted then stiffened into parody..

Reminding my love of a few contingencies we picked up from a tray
Of bright boomerangs that tantalize in the feasible, wanting nothing and showing
What go around and come around, left to their own desires and systems.
I stand for doing this.
87: I’m sure I don’t deserve a king in sleep
but he rusts himself in, damnation de Faust!

He got in surrendering his fingerprints
humming to make a windfall. We’ll

welcome anyone else holding more riches, more determinate judgment

w/in one’s center, letting misprision slide away.


Farewell, I’m lying. Part of what I do here. Throw up my hands! No matter..

Everywhere there’s fog in sky swerving off force fields I dislike, nowhere better!
No ripped off melancholy, no lecture / rap / blues, it’s taken none.


In not struggling with comparative vulnerability to vie for solitude,
I pursued insight by your ‘grant’; for how do I hold you? That’s one for liberal arts.
Secure oases cannot be considered in terms other than liberal;
with great laughter impelling knowing, not knowing, comfortable indeterminacy.

A given. Someday.
José or colder rain has a libido viewable within either construction
From a cabin for paired centrists, a flight down,

A perimeter of memory foam and asphalt when metamorphoses are active.
In plain verse we round this off in latinate stencils for amnesia’s fixed width.
Spirals discharge. You were great, shaken tame.
He called the youth a positive word.

Reading and living
Ontologically under-simulates his senses.
He should be furious w/ the world w/ dogfood boxes, be
Angry at keyholes, too, w/ their conservative
Counterviews to earnest alignment as his sure timing slips
Under the prowess of floating unquietly
Into apothegms, into sidesteps of fine voice,
“A voice and nothing more.”
Mr Peanut twisted once again to look up. I hadn’t expected it. On the other hand, what choice did he have?


We just saw (a few feet minutes from now, however)
your address changed. We could have done it differently before
you discovered the user charts; the parent company was yours before you took over.

You’re not going to be delirious are you?
Just for a stretch of language... good for you
taking me from sleep where I rewrite chain letters you refuse to answer...

Good for you!
A trivalent bond forms at birth, delays our death.

There are two ambient music cartels as well: Doggone moosebirds and dwarfs striking poses with all their operatic powers. De rigueur for now is writing over known injury to outrank others in the trivalence of thieves. I won’t do your religion, good day.
Just piano and voice. Sunken gardens with a fountain of moods for each of Four Graves.
I wish you had taken that job singing of thingness.  
Even so, if you could eat onlyone food for life, what would it be? “Take notes,” you called out. You were holding back first throbs as you forced his from the inside.   
I miss the walled city where an operator like him looks up when you arrive at this next step. . 
Try to remain calm. I’m going to talk you down. 
We’ll take the stairs; the elevators refuse to go with operators in them.  
(Ok, you there? Bye.) 
Song: Blushing is breaking news.
One time I was inconsonant. Or..

I was found holding a grand lodge of doing-splits glossary.
— why

Does a face arrest?
You had on your fabulous eyeliner from a while ago. Cunning
Thing is everybody had it goes without saying a probability before
The news

And all of us now are blown up by
Getting wind of the Red Wings.
I’m lost? I’m not familiar
with the neighborhood?

You’ve got a nice view of it
from up here.

Here we go. I got you.

Here we are.

I got you, I got you.

Got my back?
I got you. It’s okay.

You sure that’s why you’re here?
Oh My God, I so adore you. I thought I was alone in my hatred.
Task me, praise me about something else that’s forced..
Stop hurling new foodstuffs, sour leisure.


There is no name then it’s absence and torment. His life is built around sane choices w/ a sense of a person, even though in a few seconds, I’m in memory * of that person to come. Haw. 
That a fact?  
Some don’t hear clearly when one’s “voice” joins others’ to deepen ultimately anonymous expressions of desire. * The memory part is mostly vice versa.
Been holding our tongues. That’s how it works. 

Non-interference in charge, under which an authentic kindergarten, bourgeois language, genetic dance and charades get raised and quest is forcibly asserted. Working against deadline shaped the last phase of withdrawal from our deadlock with future attributes. Oedipus meantime, our founder, targeted a fan like me because of ageless obligations to familial platitude, his camouflage in plain view, the better part of stiff winds over centuries-old middle ground.
A mind is a beautiful tool of late capitalism (the unwitting effect and cause).

Capitalism stands erect, at the American curbside, a whiff of more aroma
waiting, eyes unblinking.
( Or one could seek documentation, semblance, something Swiss..

 From now on the mind is Switzerland, ok? Two eyes
belong everywhere, you’re breathing into everywhere. )

Capitalism thus gets to open up its dude ranch, akin to rustic factories, the gig economy spreads further west to prey on the drunk and disorderly. This is the highway the slug runs out on, leaving us a little dizzy. You’re the 10th dude / muse..

I was wondering wha ...

The mind sits there. It wants to be best
friends. It’s saved us burgers.
While in the garden, the door banged shut.
Execution never gets cold.
The sky is in the air, a hue of golf balls. 
That color was discontinued, for historical justice.  
Days are broken into seasons separated by regions. 
Our supply chain deals fatalism as an element of allegory  
shaping and twisting regions of all desire, except a ready  
-made means to change the supplier that feeds us these days. 
Too excellent but passing concern:
IF we have an idea to process a text or artifact, subject to analysis, THEN how does the text or artifact change ways of analyzing the process? Does the result generate inquiry into both (a) who, how, when, why subjects of analysis came about and (b) any utility of further application or adaptation?


Massachusetts, one of the 13! Now tv.
I love needing what television does, colonizing until the wheels fall off. 
Nearly sunset in coconut milk. Skinny ‘eventude’ brings on video waves of fluttering, populist rage, dishonest dogs. (Tv dogs trained to come, fetch, force it down.) All in favor held under pressure.  
Channel surfing here in the cranberry state I see immigrants mix well w/ bohos, capitalist people, people people, subjectivity with certain rights for a life entrenched w/ exigency — it feels very large here. We’re all over tv. Just noticed.
Craning one’s mien goes on outside e.r.’s, the event passes — comments from nondoctors, random tvs, lies — freedoms in this vein takes off at many a critical point. It’s personal, e.r. managers point out. It’s conditions like these making it almost impossible to write enflamed birdsong and comb back your hair at the same time.. Can you do that? 

Light with a spooky edge 

To sound off like your own critic.
76: In flight, the framework is told on telling. 
How can varsity spend their tribute, spent? Why? 
This café, I think, is going to answer that & help the weather from getting lost.  
I know the frame craves attention, that’s why I write of you.  
Why I finish a stretch and lines get confused, showing their birth. Fuse the way  
Continue. My argument.
87: Sodajerks. Their stock was luminous. Possessing

That noun phrase furthered ambition (we’re sure it was theirs), amusing
vim shaken from the inside. Each had a skeleton curse; growing
versed. (Youth, after all, is the determined object of love.) An emotional matter
language models for 3 dimensional farewells in waking
then not knowing.
Nothing is such in all cases. This brings on what works mostly. Life is short and good grooming drives you all over. Recent example, no longer victims,
you and I grabbed the moment as a ladder we shouldn’t overuse —
A moment to stare out the window, a lamp over our shoulders to herald the swindle in wind farming.
Denis the Menace grew a pair this summer. I now have a boyfriend. We’re in love, we’re out of it, we’re trying to run each other over, and it continues, since I’m first and last bored with superordination and thought about having no chapter delineations, just paragraph breaks.


O Jesus 
A severe honey glow  
crowning his shoulders — groomed  
disgust in his walk, his mystic theater practice 
already addressing us, the radiant  
pull at his mom’s sleeve  
emptied of the given moment. Puissance of a misprision sort, holy body of Christ. Already what Esau called discourse in action.
but I have to smile
                                The emptiness that was
one fine day...
                                A uranium-brimmed scree
insubstantial, to dawn ‘disappeared’
into a leg o’mutton of oblivion :
The reunion is off.
A spotlight called.
Lots of us are gifts 
and land across our example  
while we watch the wind taken  
that the waves under you lift  
Tho see-thru as doves  
which today are nothing more,  
swept with a visual certainty  
no matter how we change in love.
Voices in funnels, a trickle down of their futurity,
Dropping your sights — now rising
— the fastest way to earn points. And yet
We’re surrounded, opening
I write poems for children, progeny
Forward, a debit resonance disproving their successors —

We’re nothing their voices bell without words.

Make a difference, make an offer.
Stealing away the steepy treasure,
Baby Wateau vanishes
& the cake sale fails — vanished out of memory & sight as I am now.


62: It’s up to future officials to unpack failures’ base ironies. The speaker looking into a mirror. Failures of autumn. Where are they, let’s see... I’m not picking up any .. acoustics. Where I am, they don’t hook up to
let supplies flow out since they
make love too much — painting my age w/ no explanation, only disgust because every irony wants to stay on a comfort-slope, to live well too, staying relaxed. No shape, no truth can lull you into an ex-jazz tranquility. There is no remedy for the language instinct’s sentimental counterreactions

Grounded inward in my heart, inequity’s failure up to now.
BF Skinner watches a boy develop — to spy on sleep when you can’t dream... parking spaces have a word with him. Children are the future —
keep them distracted.
And back to you. If you lock your room you can transport anywhere. Ask Caligari. Bright blues in white, a looming sluice through the discomfort zone. Here we go...

I don’t deserve friends like him or you.
Staring you in the eyes
In my illusion of minimalism
I scored my first wormhole on schedule. The entity, no,
I should say the accretion settled down
Inside us, lost and scattered trying to remember.
Sonnet 28: I lost track of our last banter. 
How can I return then? debarred, oppressed.. not eased by night. 
Enemies shake hands to torture — stronger grief. No rest. 
The community’s been repurposed by consent. I can tell a long river
dries because of science. The rich (not advancement) won.
Here’s how I hitchhike. I come across an organizing principle and pull a trigger or 2, replacing subject matter with source text, exploring only some musts: structure, acquisition, re-use, mixed media — no Eros in ideas, room for the best except the pure.

One who hitches has no right to speak other than excellently. Self-conflict and compromise keep coming up as rich bases for ironic pleasure and symphonic failure. If that’s allowed.

Primitive patterns and blue throats, crowbars taped to a tree, in the distance, Eroica...

We haven’t been far away — the fields are twenty, chips are foam, our clothes thrown,
The great We of fish, that’s what I say on a sea plane worked into the sky.


I have decent rooms and vegetarian board. Living large is an art prepared without couth. I hope you’re opening up to a former way of life stocked with mint colorations of air as in a plush, intimate drawing room augmented with coarse bouquet. Like Elizabethans, say, we would see there were lots of tulle and offline making of amends. Music sounds on alert changing uniforms for the weekend with some breathy, lithe, spooky edge.
Tv interview:
The enigmatic eaten alive by song layouts.
The strategy goes on because it’s clear.

Burying the syllogism for life.
I’m leafing through your agility in pouring out seeds, turning over new seedlings —

I should add I don’t know anything about microspores, also
Heavy pollen, nothing! I should add I’m living on borrowed-spores.
I haven’t done tranquility either! — not even a truce..

Making up a to do list! blinded by periodic breakthroughs
Tho a pragmatics circumvents the will to mend things —
The focus is on nothing we won’t do..
24: This is color: Q-tips & smoke. Good turns. Painter can pick you up, take a day off
                    from where everyone who’s still standing is drawn to your shape,
eyes for eyes, physical & prime for the stress of form relays between a rat race
                    & cunning security IF
Painter’s 3-D models have your body frame & everyone else’s Painter can gaze on w/, w/out you.
The tallest paintings remeasure your height.

 Painting ideas.

You had heard maggots eat accelerated paintings stretched onto canvases of different sizes, gloomy jigsaws, severed threads, sticky placards in paint that’s waste emaciated into planes of junk and emptiness.
Painting double quotes.
One assumption is tomorrow’s flight will be an extension of how it’s going now.
A disclaimer in Chinese contains characters that aren’t pronounced
Or displayed. It says you have an upgrade but there aren’t any.


No interviews today. Triumph* is creepy**.

*Creepiness, unlike triumph, widely construed as inaudible tendencies toward plundering contexts to alter the body’s asymmetrical neuropsychology. 

**Authentic triumph, group or personal, cannot be construed.
Writing in a voice for a glass room that rings of convoluted propaganda, in finger paint.

With brush and paint we take dirt off a crescent metal, easy to pick up, feed and embrace after the climate changes. So writ.

Go on, tell us about your background in propositional aesthetics (affiliates who you think are like you but aren’t).
Thudding airlines: The prosecution collapsed 
But you hand over your sack of warrants.  
In the end the evaluations are in. Jumbo on  

Justice, liberty, rule of law...  
Time to concentrate on that killer c.v.  
It’s about warrants for words, Might (Mate). Future thickets.  
It’s so much satori — Enablers will cooperate fully.  
For you, a love interest can get calculated —   
Back to work, first it’s  

Urgent we go out and get wasted.  
The mood then passes from desolating satire to  
Constant put-downs you parrot like executive control  
— Holding firm in the wilds where fireworks will be slowly ignited  
“In the slumbering gaze” parallel kill and be killed, united obliteration. 
39: Sing how absence, our thought, only hints at torment. Separation seemed brilliant manners far back, unremembered before now. Its worth oblique, divided but pointedly, singly alive.

One difference, the better part changes — I praise you at the gate praising him.
Soon after, more praise due you while we lose names over another difference, mine to mine. We went into this.

Even divided we live to entertain. And even for this it’s still a question. I dream w/ you.. as you prove.
Writing in a voice for a glass room that rings of convoluted propaganda, in finger paint. 

With brush and paint I take dirt off a crescent metal, easy to pick up, feed and embrace after the climate changes.  

Go on, tell us about your background in propositional aesthetics (affiliates who you think are like you but aren’t). 
Sitting down delivers the good news, stateliness while steering already had its faint say. Now we can text and ‘drive’ over time and zeta functions mowing down hedgerows like highway dividers along an infinite axis.


We already have what we ask for.
Vainly but not fast in never induce italics:
We gave it up at the Office.

This is hardly ever for the 1st time
disappearing in molecules like other words, just molecules ago.
Showing results for innuendo: You’re good. Doing this, I offered. Just
Report to duration centers for the rich for best pricing, unless
Theft looks better. Go. Fees balanced. Eject.
Then you told me repetitive motion went further —
Making money w/out reason is mass

-ive. After.. surely if that’s the mood, there are vector
Utilities for expressing wealth after dark..

Sleep has no idea of here and now  when everything is the right answer.. all on your check.
After the decline of the XIX century,
The state held sway on the 2nd floor near the cloakroom.
Eminent domain: Paranoia was passed out. Young & ugly you & you were next. Nothing dumped into drinks
Not to arouse the unknown or undue, your well-being was my concern.
Few invitations I won’t forget.
And that does it sometimes for this hour. New world circumstances have postponed further equity together w/out & because of you = No end to observers laughing thru-out.
Damn, dancing, can’t complain, when your children
left we had chipmunk..

Next to nothing, and a white winged crossbill
went berserk, wet bubbles.

The chandeliers giggle a little.
Stacked tonal asperations.
The luminous patina of an excommunicant / He thought about SciFi from the Sixties / Of a bright, lit, obvious labyrinth / All of his life as if he were a mercurial creature / As if meeting death half-way by making connections / The kind of greenish pallor you’d desired —

He thought about SciFi from the Sixties / As the furry chestnut shadow turns from the window / Fighting the relative fight to endure / His coat with his assassin’s bullet, effluvia and life / All of his life as if he were a mercurial creature / Etc.
Modulating the self comprises an apotheosis 
according to types of daring.  
Don’t smolder, show us.