Tuesday, January 21, 2014

the drift

my sweaty leg slaw my
d rift ed head or cl oud el
aire in sectívoro hablé hablaba
ay la bio de gn ats infér
tiles - fertiliz antes - donde
el sangwich se me cayó ,mi
knee and lettuce, rabbits sm
eared on the window y me p
use la cramisa ,shi m mer ing
w . . .   it  .   .    h        a  .   .    .     .

...l’ombre l’arbre...
- Arthur Rimbaud


the seizure

ay whistled sluit ay mi
astro genético ,mis tuúneles
hambulantes - él que me
craminaba era ...¿quién? f
ists an d arting into the cor
ners - flooded ,chewing - an
the d ripping for k o )tene
dor bif urc ante(  what I cha
sed outside the estanquillo the
jiffy mart burns en el cruce
de claminos me fuí I b
b ala nced the rockinmyn eck

...de son aine en flamme...
- « François Coppée »

the index

bed neck sky where the s
lathered terraces strewn
with jjarrs or wax hor
ses windows spewing lun
ch dense glass remember
the crawling wheels and it
ching delineation of the lac
onic in dicators bones and
car pet hands signing in all
di sections ni ches digits gas
o line ,cut                            off

...tongues in leaves...
- Ivan Argüelles, “mycenae”

the seal

negc k slo t POR ME
NOR the seeming tub e to
p an w hat w as f lop
py in the sou p’s c old s
hade s WILL the his sing
s pace you empt y the
gig gled not hing’s re versed
)or jus t the t ide cam e in

...see what’s drunk ,and born


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