Rettam

boiling in the cloud I mattered mostly lung-tied to your
fistula folded in your dress mattered thinly like a thorn fence
,cloudy faucet where my gun mattered ,loosing blood and tuna fish
my field high and crusty mattered with a century of hair
your lip impaction’s stony plow mattered loosely clanking to a tree
.my throated age hovel burns mattered transformation of the ants I
slept collected at my throat mattered bruma sinking in the lake
where I threw my cluttered matter gushing from my empty mouth




Listen Hear

spotty dream ,lunge port ,cave of
wrinkles in the chronosphere ,knife or
grass .the shuddering page )dream cave(
folded in the wrinkled knife or blinking shirt
.my page grass my burn shadow ,leaked finger
folded in my blinking where you saw was me ago
.your fingered shadow blows away and drops into
my saw ago you dried your arm .the docks wet
with gasoline a spot you blow and lunge away .my
armosphere my chronosaw my dried crotch and listen



Got Religion

blob fork
nap
lever skill
sat
will never
slap
dark gohd




On High

lord stink
slaw
tons of
small
gloved guns
aw
think gourd




Leave

feel the sugar sink
lice and tomb
fawn dust
crik
crust’s dawn
moon and mice
think “luck” )and eel(



You


bla nd
too l

e ver neck






Sure


s it an
f ile

la pping lapp ing



Meets


nap tha

can ser

f loppy on e






Around


hu ng

fly ng

fa ng

horse ing



Mostro


l êvres

lead

mask

murthur





Repository


m ice

h am

l it b link


tumb ling s hade

f lang

c lung