Sandie, here is your baby here is her mohawk do does she: not cry, not O they O her head is a circle her kneecaps, yammering O, O this summer drought makes the leaves feel left, lisps the little clip of language to her head (pink) :clip
Category: 100 Days
Dailiness
2 day
[Two is a longing & a hundred effortescence/ think how] make shift / What adornments musty trimmings since Christmas is only plus plus days aways Julia is pregnant/ texts cervix updates it looks like today is not the day / I’ll make a poetry hat and head out vastly seizing me aboundaries / this my critical arrangement of economic gardening: …
1 day
Day one Aye! is A Daily dew is little “a’s” wet- ly tip/ping o’er mown lawns moist yawns shabby skies A rise last night was a today w/out the A / capitaled off /day a Resounder day speaks & eye listen
No / I have not / been
No / I have not / been /a helicopter bouncing down the desert on a string – to liven / enliven / foreshorten / work apart a braid of yellow hair – ‘eerie rice’- that’s what I always say – potshots from the plank, infrequent rain, Gram wearing his wooly poncho in the background. We drive …
7 day garden
the light is plaid windowthing a flare sitting on my head a little duende / weeds almost touching riverend to end / ‘our boat’ is no, we paid for the time entirely bob- bing wooden nose, aft, never do we dance, growing upended rosemary / thyme in corn cans, bean cans, green wire, orange and dull pots, as …
4th forthcoming love poem
We are in these tulips of our middlesex there we are, Wanderfuzz w/ the helmets of our own concupecence / the blatant andiron: boom goes the box on the poolside of our lilting Pro- tests: Give me an icee says I in our two-tent router-eater what ever the Tenants of our New Deal pay, PAY and …
23. [Iammutherfuckingantelope.]
Two Three Four Five Grasses We Went Thru; Elevation Unknown, Stirrup Pants, Summer moon mars neptune stickers. These sleeves were green, fresh sleeves, hot dogs, and I will call the mice Leonard. The white files in my stove. Files cried. They made snowflakes w/ cereal w/my hair. Bunting on. Fissure. Flack so loosely netted & …
69 too
Come bloom Fort in trees, stacking plyings on us, this bay of yours walking toward sushi Am I really to say no no no no no don’t you go you Prawn, the pelicans pursing along, oh yonder.
24 Loaner, 24 loaner said
We went, we went on in everglades paper, drawn on stretchy whales, a fig, the camino. Want to roll so we roll wildly west: this spread, a hog, the horses in spanish pits. Dust malls the trucks on our lords bright day, & Score. I call up to you there, johnny. You pearl. “THINGS ARE GOING TO …
Whatever Comes About is a Result
Then there was a sound, The n wind put some gloves on on the shelf, there in Sequences a tournament to surmount Great Stakes! heard of whim in white Initially, I can’t say a little in the kitchen the grapefruit sade opens and looks so A Knife in A Spoon Lettuce bed in June Little …
Day Three Dee Dah
The other stretching under my chair there fun joke rug race toward the day we git Love pop rocks Miss muling in the chambers amp balustrade arch you in perplex square coat miss either open hobbling bluelight Squirrel the Industrial “thank god” for 2nd languages
68 names
For how animal is eating a fig, on wheels or rails, acorns, how delicate etc. and continue adiatic, my unyeildy boots, you towing, nevermind, then rolling stop, as ashes as you are you are the plural of bluegrass in bells these patches of felt since when alelluah ah– and anna lay herself down beside me, …
48 Pussian
Forty eight Prussian nights dot her; this one. Nights around her nose and mouth. Red waves thru them. Night making eggs and blueberry waffles. Night spilling water on the table. For no reason. They were in a cafe, their friends there. She threw the water. Afterwards was smaller, not at all what she would, stretching …
o/h ow I/l ove/n o thing /more/t han/t o/ be/d an cing/st ill
I have a flee/ce my war mest squa/re shawl tour/na/ments in v/elvet laceandhose, horseradishes, no/dules & my sol/vent new england bat/drive down It/s my worry-ish prunes that do me, Hank/ies folded slap/dash over Nike wire/frame mice- cloths, a little ear in general. Tympany anyone? & they’ll say: I have this p/ion/eer woman/kind of furn/it/u/re/bod/y. It …
100 Days
I would like to introduce my brass career of light. It is a project manager. Mothersticks hit the side of my mywigwam. Between peices of leather, light lines. Three steps off the road, a barrel cactus attache. She is a weaver with a loom and everything. The Theory of Tables by Emmanuel Hocquard. Opera day in …
61 Uh
No pigs. No litter letters nor whails no sign for my llama, my llama or me sticking a tongue in your fur for what signed for propped up on the fencelight. No haystacks or barking abroad. You know. Lawerence with his finger sandwiches says pst pst we are going and now we are shod and …