it would tend to slope down the bitter root
to the bitter, to the bit
part
tongue's art traipsed
trapped, the trappings of its total tongue, gew gaw,
the goo of awe, or oddity's good bustle craft, here, there
she shirt
hair mist
the woven matte or complex of its breath
air plane breasts its even numbered
loss of sense in numerals
or names they once
deicde (decity)
namerules
non circus deicide
can't you clean the purse out
and be quiet the time I spend
for you under the gun.
thick black column to hold up the bleak persistence of its wind
the sections that could be cut of the roof cake's rust
how
obvious the chariot
the wheelchairs wincing in the laurels
the bicycles
like crow's feet
in a mad widow's
oven
sausage cross
upon witch
a little cookie sings
stool pigeon
squab
basquiat
tumeric
rigamarole
the way its z
repeats
a short-hand
foreshortened
the frame is like that
browsers kull
it's 2 d
comi-gimi key
necessarily gesture in lines
that tangle
where the tusk modulus mixes in
the other dimensions and species
remember how we
save the schitzoid brains
for drug races
we'd pare.
hologum.
the painful boxe of its thread.
vauxhall is weary
and falls.
in the slick spongey courtier's
killer whale mouth bed foam eating rubied
limbs, a kind of hushed revery
is brushing its teeth
in the country
a windmill makes a song
like two banshees
rubbing business cards
at a lake.
some wide thinking vanity
has curced ous with this momen
t
the slide
to bitter root
vis fed off
vand know we get up
in our giant hat parasols
and teagues and leagues
Today.
It's giraffe racing!
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
"BEST POETRY IN THE WORLD" ~ you
ReplyDelete:)
ReplyDeleteyou are sweet!
i'm a little obnoxi.
hehe
:)
ReplyDelete