break fast

“el fino fueye entre los sig

nos” )Luis Bravo( donde mi

pa labra se retuerce es la

lumbre al revés sever la

sleep del pie reambulante

- sock crumpled in the foot

of a bed ,emptied full

of its emptiness is

hunching steps a

head “el iceberg del

poema” )L.B.( 's your

sweat condensed in a

scissored syllable - it's

the its of yr eye in its

open face sandwich tu

cabeza el camino vestido

de su des vestidez ,papered

shirt's your seeing el sueño

de la camisa misma ,que sue

ña del día del despertar del

desentender de las roturas

íntegras que se brotan

del desayuno

El futuro es de los sordos.

- Antonio Di Benedetto

(a wake)

envidia

death slipper

step or cloud

faster

noose shame

open at last

trepar

off roof

your heavy spine

boil

and sink

think and smile

slab

your sleep

heat the stone

your pulsing faucet numbs

an excrement mannequin collapses

next a podium maze its maggots

swarm and flee muddy down a

street elongation toward a

smirking doll propped up contra

in a teetering glass box be lie fs

be gon polyethelene foaming out its

face and finished knowing rotted skin

the bearers grunt and moan inflated

giggling as they struggle keep the

vertiginous box upright digestive

rain and thunder gather at the end

of the street

Spattered with gobbets from

“Sound Ritual Number 84” by

bill beamer & Jim Leftwich

pique nique

should swell should fork sh

ould nasal tentacularity or

you jerk yr head away FLA

PPING MLEATS dog's long snore

entibia o me desentibia el leng

uarazo de mis hexplicanexiones

o trabalencguas ,desentenderme

pues ,el mundo se acaba ,it's

just phonektics ,japes 'n jerks ,a

foaming in the dishpan fulla

blood and ,spoons ,eat the

wind offa yr face it'll say

you were ,or not ,some dust and

seeds blown against a wall

outer fog ,a neck

,a lunching on

the steps

clod

meat thumb

wisen up ,sky

penebruma

the singed book yr th

roat 's )hot cough( stain a

skull 's bent up clown sn

ore's glory sneezed a a a

deruddered foot at roof's

edge

putifacto putiplácido putiplenimondar

dripped off em leg ged re

ductionedist bruma em

BLAzoned EMBlazoned embl

azONEd whisker-like a flatt

ened mask you ssay ? “smell

the hand's bare slaw eye” un

der a s lack d rift of as

hy pages )small bad leg( nim

ias y numenescas ,tu flujo

refulgente )“hot lap heard”(

)dream of a dead squirrel is a

head rotting in a bucket is a

small room walled with TVs

blaring PUTIboca pUTIboca

PUTIBOCA orange drool

pools on the floor a

tiny hand jerks and splashes

in the fli ckering li ght( ( ( ( ( (

eye

lint pages

leg clown fog

Que d'atrocités n'a t'elle pas produit!

- M. Boinvilliers, Cacographie, 1819

reflujo y escritura

change the braid que te

habré la boca inombrar the

swallowed it the handwich f

lecked with tumorrosas mul

tiplejado y musgráfico un

sweater en llamas “no me

llamo ni te llamas” ink welt

Tula towel shadow in the

drain yr eye Tollan pues

es lugar de un solo lag

artijo nomás nomás un lá

piz que me entra the ear

)declouded grunter ,eh?(

fog fog fog fogfogfogfogfogfogfogfogfog

¡ay porcentaje pulcro! bones...

se ahoga en 1 ojo de agua

- Mario Santiago Papasquiaro

piedra masticada

inmenso

el cierre

tu moho circular

crespo

el peine

tu palma rogante

fuete

diente canicular

habro la bhoca

fustigo

la llama

ascua del ojo

peluca

pendiente es

una ventana hablierta

musgo

luz angular

dientes de cuarzo

dessication

yr smoke collapsed yr

fofossil a ttornado is a

buried fish upstreams a

gainst soft stone was dust

rising in a dictionary sleep

of punctuation faded on the

lintels your chalky fingernails

broken on a used car rusts

into sand was body of dawn

Mojave speeding through yr

clothing orphanage x-ray

of an empty portal thought

's electric wires fallen walls

yr pupils darkening on the curb

Clouded in Ivan Argüelles'

“the heart is a tornado” &

“Charles Manson Dies at 83”

ésto dijo

éste es el engaño del cadáver

del olvido el shut ham holds

its spoon beneath the floor

el piso era el mar o a mar go

que pensaba en la camisa

de ladrillos con un letrero

al revés DNAS TOHS donde

caminabas descalzo con una

cabeza de huarache siniestro

el huarache tu lenguarazo era

te decía el agua el idioma era

de lo que nunca recordarás

lengua

huarache mojado

cadáver del olvido

br eath

shot a w

wind

hand fauce

t hábrete

lah bhoca

sight submersion

a a a lake of pills a your

hand covers your mouth

bear slides downhill in

sleep was stone walking

where your foot once s

topped once stopped

hold the faucet so the

wet don't fall your

muddy ham salad bulges

in your shoe it's the

spitted lake it's the

laundry billowed in

your nostril it was

your eye encapsulation

plastic fish

the dream of thirsty salt )M. Dec.(

is a dream of a hole deep in crusty soil

a stone temple crowned with

crumbling combs )your hair's thrashing

fuses lit or lit cloud of gnats around the

detonator( dream of a spitting dream is

the spittle of yr eye afloat in a

glass of beer is your hand stumbling

through a submarine your kitchen the

lights went out in heavy rain you saw the

moon tremble in your left eye the right

a damp broken plaster wall it is your

shoe your shoe an efulg ent de-expect

oration thickening in a corner

)moon

eye combs

rain and pants(

la cueva abre su bocanube's

suit swirls in the tongue's

strong current fog asleep on a hill

drums under water ffootts

scrabbble alongg beaeach

BRIGHT SCRAPS PLASTIC

)“ 'bomb' actually loose wires,

rotting food”(

...la vit tourner dans l'eau noir...

- Gérard de Nerval

the rrules

the shouted ,faucet do

g ,when shirts would

bburn ,a lever screen

,should lunching in your

raewrednu pulley

from the eye ,was ch

hairs nailed to the la

dder was your grunted

lunch ,is a half instruction

firebrat

- An opening in Ivan Argüelles'

Arbolito! & The Final Punctuation

off the small table in dark tree's

leaves a silver splinter shot u

nder litter was a final punctuation

left in the washing machine a dream

of a poem is sand glittering in a

drawer a b lack ty pewriter hissing

its silence where's yr fog? where's yr

damp pencil? is the window open to a

storm's hot flood a single sh

adow blows yr nose in a m ask

nestled in stones oOo➖╦➖Ooo

how far the beach? edge of lum

inosity I itch you itch the cor

pse itch es un sol con los ojitos

cerrados

...to hold nothingmeat

Hostage, nor uneven us...

- Jim Leftwich & billy bob beamer

techo sordo

dream of hunger is talking to

your naked feet under the desk

is a boat sails sub

merged in a pl acid sea ≈ ≈ ≈

yr blood's up bl eachedf ^^^ on shingles

wha t f akes ins ertion – fell from the

rain g utter - enteroendemic scum cor

rodes ah wires danglers out cl

ouds' gritty sky ))vom it asspitratio

n vines thrash your facial o pen

mouth's a shoe gagg ging in a

tree's peom whheeezy

leg

wired feet

roof fog burns

)“or socks walk the water's

total meat condition”(

corner red slobpy

each yr fissured bucalage a bur

sting gate yr shshor t

half drowns the watch

puzzle or hole

buzzard neck

sneeze

)Jessica Manack dreamt of hunger(

)“A highly cited paper published in

BLOOD mentions the name John M. Bennett”(

lunch speech

taped on the throat of

“time glassage” saw my

hheft injected ,turn

down stairs refloodgent

afterscam before yr

out sock )ripped the heel(

emblazened broom a tor

ch s wept a way

past the wall

yr dog

fried

indictive last chance sore

my hand a blender

churns yr shredded snore

impassible words .and clock

fog noise

louder half a hole a

nekkid nostril left be

hind its lunch name and

corn its guttered skin's

endemic amigration EYES

AND SAND tu fusil age

collaps ant dermicide ,in

dicio de la bocaca plenaa

A CLOUDY CALF s tumbles

thru yr sleep dream of a

calf is ddream of a pole

crowned with rice a

mud-bred sandwich c

rawls a w a y the

rice dream's a toad sw

eating in wind its shudd

ered half a [book glued

to the floor under your

bed

tooth

lung door

chew a key

sleep approaches in its crib

- For C. Mehrl Bennett

& Sheilah Wilson Serfaty

the dream of Dao in a sewer is a

tree bending in a storm is a dream

of a chair sitting on the edge of a cliff

came late taste their baby or any

walked it off she held the start but

brimming love the dream of being alone

is a dream of a wall of light pulsing

in darkness is the dream of a tree

falling out a window the tree a

wingless bird flying toward a

tower if I smell bare or ate if I

held a suitcase full of forks and

buzzing razors if I folded my

face on a dripping mirror , , , , , ,

doll

edge blood

tree on fire

)O Clock Come to Me(

ropa sucia

your laundry was the

lock your tooth broke on

single frayed it was it aws

dot the shape you wunt

forget as eye of gun

an orange blur dribbles on

the wall swa was not your

wiping but a seizure

in mouth wsa chalchihuitl

slimy thought saw asw asw

what slept upon what

washed in ash in sh a

crop yields

megalithic cloud

- Olchar E. Lindsann

clod shaped the ea rth un

last at ,was yr corner isolation

isolettric heaving in the lang

uid seas no more cities dr

own the b eaches deep in

where my templed headache's

crown deversed a burning

ladder beneath yr waves

the dream of an empty house

is a tree bursting with

leaves the leaves

dream a car turning on a

coastal road it was the

shattered coffee cup on a

kitchen floor you are a field

of smoking tractors oil palms

lean darkly in your distance