hiding to let it work a sense of hoping to lose it to refuse its performance its conditions
and explanations tattled in rainbow loom doom strolling by the fan cave cue red receptacle
for used blood endowed in prodigal sucker perpetuity modern bleak redemption opening
the cinema for dumpy-souled laugh orientation at which (tires squealing) you could play citizen
scum scoring a reset hallway heretofore loading adjacent polar vortex muffling bears inducing
a transaction counter an incessant speed of affection to upgrade the trag-affect it was all splices
of enormity dunk-blocking the precog’s morbidity incursion duking it out with scrolls and skrulls
high places in friends & the speed of promised growth in a version of
the present architecture dog shit meets used cracker at the site of eros
the local branch a person changing its name from sovereign to salamander
I give the guys with bad backs loose change they renew the visual sense you
know the weather’s so lovely the rats can’t say no we found their treaty with
the squirrels under a fake rock compromise in Tompkins Square high yield
checking to beat off rent bombing the fuck out of fuck it’s adopted son clarity’s
what you say you think it’s the emotion of cutdown day
getting in the conversation ray’s mock-up of unilateral
securitay’s breeding sites groping for intimacy between
poisons a sweetness picture picking off points for measure
preseason heroes know it’s a feel-space legacy the decision
to decide when to make a prior show of showing prop up
the present with an ugly hand according to a composite mouth
& having invented your own logic
you can’t use
walking with you
elevate your friends into strangers
a moral suspicion
in every layer
of evolved definition
abstract concept overload
again is always something
I respond to arrangements
to replace my blank spaces
you remind me often
of a desperation to make brief
those blank spaces
someone adds an extra silence I felt-tipped it down the cross-hatch
went infinity flow my tears the policeman’s neon blue fingers still probing its sass
I do not remember technology I do not remember my father’s entire body
in exact detail I do not remember most of my education but all of the feeling
all the endlessly fucking slow layering of every minute micro-jolt accreting there’s
not much about money to tell you don’t already contain in your bulby knowledge
shell the boundaries of boredom I found myself nodding against a grain
pangs of reality inside another fully beautified escape from daily to daily
particulars shit on canvas (see Breughel at the movies) an addiction on discount
how that goblet get from there to there curl of a demon scream for rasberries
slumming with the counter-reformation among rainbow plastic sippie cup palettes
walking with a confident paranoia on retractable leash here hold my annihilus
the projection of luck onto others a ghastly utopia so says a bold divergence nudge
an American reveal a cop decked out in complaint to avoid this fate we must
strike against sleep
voxily benumbed
connect yr charger
it in fact is hard to touch you
true, our history a series of
assignations the utility of personal
difficulty & its attendant logics
breaking up into mutual doses
of rejection. No more poetics
a binge of opening acts splits apart into Orders of Experience:
what are your reigning rules for yourself mr. hard playa on the less than average
arbitrary temporal marker of the over-processed moment? Grainy drowning bat
in underground lunchbox? Paranoid crab pincing toe chubs from eternity’s
couch-thing? Seaweed dumps under layers of biodegradable friendship collections?
That magisterial pounding just out in front of your skull to the right is your source
of tangential authority, ready to self-skewer your dingity when politics require you
to pull the old blankie out from under your feet? Your electronic self-image array
remind you of the knowing dirtbag teachers who’ve never understood one fucking
thing you’ve said? They’re still better than the baiters of bears waving structure
at you disguised as wit and fortune, no? You’re forty-one. You dunked your children
in the grease holding them by their faces. Everything charging up from behind
is unhinged and consoling. Fortunately for the times you despise explanation
partial azure balloon stomp doggie popped out back
you put these tiny flower bugs in your pocket?
the distance between
those two positions
is a little immeasurable
but I miss the absence of the person
who filled the absence of
another person – I miss
the second person
& that missing sucks to say
here we all are leaving
“to be”
here
a year later I’m where
the light is right
to prepare for introduction
as a fixed act
which renders demotive
me a non-unified
significance ahead
of sanctioned leeching
wrap the box set book addiction in transparent dragon skin after hiding
the sea horsies’ eyelashes in a too-big stroller’s expectant demi-grime thank you
for the nod out in collaboration with medical relocation I’m always a touch late
to ten baroque minutes away from a bad repair job in gravel kittywalks where
unnameable fluidity unlimited only by the flow of your distressed clarity of material
curated in absentia
by a fondness for absentia
we must liberate the still
from their tempos and stories
for a bio the ghost wrote an
approximate likeness of a voice
a blocked punt could paste a face
onto so many books to stand and read
in aisles and not quite pay for stewarding
homelike a fella in his mutterings can’t
believe they don’t drop bombs & grenades
on this place & he’s a follower & I avoid him
by standing right in front of him my fears are local
the big guy’s muttering stink shaped up once in awhile
is no headlock inducer I’m worried about boys who
can hurt me and not being any good at anything
so reality turns out to be a little more
convoluted than its agencies
the desk form virgiling itself in a video bank for macro-minor instance we get to disbelieve in surfacing
lording critique over death
let’s shuffle our personalized logistics:
at home exhausted warmth on the street
business ephemeral concrete mollified innerware
I do not have persona stamina
micro-cottage industries of we
bleeding out from waves
my hand is alive says a phone
near the intersection of 9, B
& Charlie Parker Place a hell-
sun limps via intervention
into dragon-form pre-pick-up
auto-perspiration downwind
from dog-run alone between
steps with my man-thoughts
my clutzy wager thunks too
much white in the sky-motion
pleather heaven falcon scores I missed a walk off wild pitch struck aquarium
with laconic emphasis a turning point witnessed avoiding masses in my habits
accreting metal staring up at shoe gazers & searching for Udhiri poets greeted by
perfect realspeak on no-fault divorce I know the wrong eight hundred years ago
its default user a forward collision warning sigh to shake down whitey apocalypse
twins rapture mutants to Jupiter the eternal executioner choppable by Norse axe
confused about what to cop piling down first half stats wrong’s extra-secret wrong
but your spliced idea of life demands turns hunting down a drunk pill to split
new year’s resolution go full blown cheeseball tweak tenement rooftop wind supplies
readymade answers all non-thinking elegies emptied in ignorant lists sliming the otherwise
bottomless beading secret lover of pigeons throw glasses I mean skyscraping needles
phlebotomizing the uptown skyframe I myself heck in a cuff the plain dysfunction
of inevitable decay-reversal turning ploy a stance on potential self-approximation refused entry
to that shipwreck in lift-off if you’re trained as I can’t be to steer vehicles one compromise elides
another one death-stick weakens selection (panel yet to be colored) why not be exuberant typed
the career diplomat like stealth has been an inspiration (raw materials: hot rationales in astroturf shirts)
all I ever wanted will be ceaseless vibrations warding off resentiment behind the plain layers in view
finishing studies insert flyleaf
the shumpert jersey marches off
to intermission the platitude dome
an arming of character into arenalight
I’m a reel-to I know this propping
digital light & she will have her tree
just behind her name carved onto a
passable rectangle solidity feints
wearability are there any donuts
to shake into view from the art shop
on this sublet of a mantle? I say &
everything wrong in slight enigma
launch parsing sensation to loosen
shivers from a coming bundle of ofs
wrapped by gift certification: 30 at
grassroots, ten at st. mark’s theater
25 cents for bengal stripes on
a bottle cap’s inner lid one brings
a processed mistake to temporary
home & unleashes elegaic sentiment
(the art is in the arrangement)