Thursday, April 23, 2009


the wetter drink the plume
saddle where I clocked my
lip and phoned the toilet
,sump contamination ,wallets
soaked with motor oil .your
finger cloud grassed and
dangled where your beard
spelt noitalugnis .the puz
zles crunch beneath your

The Mumbling

beet and ,cube infraction in
my sodden sleeve ,issue you
,ants inhaled ,I covered what I
cud through constant chewing
light the glassoline .punch an
ludic dictionary sinking past
the offered frying pans bla
ck with blood .the skull
block rustles the trees are
thick with insects and your
sticky rain all six sides
were named

Turn Over

dusted off the chigger I was
saving for a boiling day an
F’d it always leaning to the
reft so that’s my ferris
wheel crashing off the dock the
turning water I was flo
ating in a chair the clouds
were spinach muscled in
my loot .I called the
bite my “mist” and gru
mbled at the shiny air
heaving in my armpit


chaw an soap an lob an bright an
it’s an doubt an hall an howl an
ice an dit an gull an fungus an
temps an fenêtre an fog an fuel an
slot an sog an dunk an lit an
crash an jiggling in the suit an
fonar an fumar an finger an foot an
chopping an sort an clunk an hock an
caw and craw an cock an quit an
sum an sweat an spill an dust an
flaw an see an send an clot an


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