After Alexander conquered Egypt,
he probably wondered through
the green hills of Perthshire
& thought of Americana
& "the blonde ambition"
that would soon come.
Ladies, if your
doctor gives
anxiety, sing,
"Die, Die, Die, My
Darling!" into his ears
while he "checks" your
heartbeat, as if with the
hands of an unmarried man;
a holy chalice under the tongue,
juice of black red cherry. I have
been inviting more howls to
rescue the air, the air you
spoke of, the air that
gave me majestic
This winter,
I had not
what was
to come, again:
tenseness of skin,
of heart, I have become
an out-of-focus snowman in
liquid form. What does the plant
adore? Corpuscle adornments.
My rheumy previsualizing.
I am not confrontational.
I feel like the end of
a rainbow;
is flat, like
water without
waves or droplets
anywhere in sight, like
the way dawn can diminish
a candle's glow. I told Tatiana
that certain doorknobs are doped
with whispers & blended
visual gestures. Forget
the shattered past.
It is said
"The Golden
Age" wasn't particularly
gleaming with gold. It would be
like a Renaissance Period without all
of the regrouping. Open the night,
celebrate its closing by awaiting
its opening again. Black &
white is like a distillation
(click to enlarge them).
Plot holes in this poem,
or pot holes in this
poem. My soul
-chops are like
“soul is total
vocal freedom.”
Perhaps like the animated
dancing woman in silhouette underneath
the Make Less Than $45,000/year?
advertisement. We should all
beware of safety. O Canada,
come feast upon America's
of an axe.
Of a Moment's ass
-ociation. "some of my confusion
was just unfamiliarity" like a stuffed bird
in kingdom come. No voice is raised
against the deaf. Embrace the
complimenting monsieur
that is at odds. I speak
óbecause Because
without a
would all
become ticklish
wenches a-laughing
in a certain place, perhaps
in the gaps of Saint-Chély-du-Tarn
& speech would always
give-way to correction
like a king correcting
a joker. I am a joke
-r. I would have
the king,
would have
been like a dreadful
child that knows what is
coming: possible intense scornings.
Months fly by in a blur. The calender
goes blind, nearly honourably, heels over
head, like a brute beast; like quick
-sand, becomes groundless
& prejudice of the sacred
abstraction of



Instant silence in every instance.
—or so I'd thought.
Chopin's piano is a phrase in my vocabulary.
—or so I'd want.

Be far. Be a far booming noise
unlike anything else. Be the far
fair individual. Go ahead,
contact your voice.
Remember color, remember personality
—& as is, as was.

Of, of, alike, resemblance of
the animal. We begin as a flock.
The boy who cried wolf
was really a wolf himself.
—& up up up his echo carried.

Instant silence in every instance.
Yes. The way I had dropped
at your feet in the cold grass.
The way you cupped my head in your arms
& caressed me untitledly.
—or so I'd thought.