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cakey

05/07/2012

in Days

A little lot of plumcake. A layer a little like a pushpin. A stinky and often miscarried remainder. I have no heart for it. O  it! so marked I don’t know the reassurances I make to myself. I lay my little bitty in position. Softly, softly coughing the cuter to see me so whitely and wonderfully spongey/scunched. Whether one needs such tightness and twerpiness on such a big day. A canister my buns HAVE for me to sit down. Right here? Yes. This is sit. W/ my cake and I need to be tight. A little like a duckling is closing in on me–after me like a ducky.

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The quiet

03/29/2012

in Days,Poems

The quiet is a blind house.

Let, let.  it.

Tennis piss

whitefire.

Wait.

For.

 

 

A carpid, A yellow rone

at singing convincingly

to the blond bomb day,

milestoned & hot.

 

 

{micro}

waves and tiny pressures.

Tumbleforth jumblefish day

daily Hey’s “you there”

as we canter, can’t hear

any wildernesses

for all this
Hinterland.

 

 

 

re: Callingforth day

Grow long.

Sun coming hairy and sweeps

needlessly sweeps

the horses

break, they reek, they go

long across pastures, blond and hard.

Or so it seems.

Or so we say. Hasten.

It’s about time

the babies came in

 

 

 

Hinterland, hard heart.

Shhh.

 

The tines of quietest trees

shrink and itch.

The dry is. Why

so quiet

is very hard to say.

The cows have wet luminous mouths.

They go down.

They in one

huffing.

 

These lightest times, light my lifey.

Blows down the tree one.

Goes it down the length of.

The dental trees.

The mechanic.

The hard as rocks

imagination of trees,

neither here nor

anywhere.

 

 

Each sweater is a picture

of knots, a scene

stopped, a perfect significance

Mulling the woof.

Pulling the caftans.

Shruggling

to see if

& how.

 

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Losing the Day

02/17/2012

in Days

Losing the day to coffee, altogether altering the makeup of my motherboard, my motherbearing, my mothermail.

Penny Puddles Pendergast.

Day being the blamee. Day sans glory.

Day on the workhorse, see horse, as all that is decidedly yonder floats past.

That bomb is weak and brown. My skydrive is syncing.

Blessed Day, let us liftoff into alterative waters. Its fishes flapping gills made of lace. Dots on the water, holes in the foam.

I am a gull with triangular feet. My feet resemble the basket I’m carrying.

Blessed day, bless you droppers of droppings. Gruff, like my father unbending over.

Elope, day.  Antelope, day.  Envelope addresses.

Excessive syncopation. Hibiscus Abacus.

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Last Lapse

02.14.2012 Days

Continuation. The hook and tongue of day. The waggedy that.  Lapse, clasp. The lace of days in utter continuation. The smalls and mediums and larges. Largess. Pants around my mother’s ankles while trying it on. The grooves in love like a golf ball.  As it resists its own specificity. As it becomes crocodilian,  recording it [...]

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Days of Men

02.13.2012 Days

Days of men who have loved the earth and the atmosphere, the discomfort of trees lining the lake, hooks in fog. Days of men not to worry. Whose rain freezes on the windows like tulle. Whose horses hump. Whose rubbings work around our history of days wearing handsome coats. Down fall our trouser days. Portland [...]

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Christmas 2011

12.27.2011 Milestones
Thumbnail image for Christmas 2011

Christmas was sort of cross-country-crazy this year. In Texas, we had Christmas with the Klinger Cousins, the Johnson Cousins, and Christmas Eve (otherwise known as a ridiculous number of presents) followed by Christmas dinner. Then Paul and I hit the road for more Christmas with the Pendergasts and Jimmy/Misty. “Vacation” is a sprint.  

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city of days

12.02.2011 Days

I am headed to the northwest side of the cityside. The side of the city least felt, fibrous. A folder of bones sewing my city. A folder of gravel. A folder of clay. A burning as the burning of choice has its center. It checked off, chosen, called on to sing. Sing The Prayer, sang [...]

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Thanksgiving 2011

11.25.2011 Milestones
Thumbnail image for Thanksgiving 2011

Thanksgiving came and went as simply as it could. Mom and Dad drove to Texas this year because Julie and Gracies were in Disneyworld. A fairly painless affair if I do say so myself!

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Family Day

11.21.2011 Poems

The hole in the mud is encircled with families. Each family makes a day of moving the mud from the hole. Removing the thistles and sticks and mud stuck to the leaves. And cleaning the shape of the hole, the circle. Work days, work nights, chewing the ropes. So everyone is in it a little, [...]

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