The Error

error as one begins thinging “insinuendos” & “elbow people” Git off me error / wronger topper render one fling flat yes flat get some or water , error ah kin sips drinky error you have to have to tag it /  is filamentous or dirt on it there point here/s looking at you piddle, this not pipe …

Le Blitz

Hello Artaud. I found you in my links and digress to put up this, between what I started with you and how now, without a word to register. I walk into the room and the sweat. This is the suggestion, overriding my concern for you, the angle of my jaw in silence–how it hurts. I …

Glass had

as many as glasses hold, up to the light, sounding so in the barrels of brandy, as it is, its bottles mottled in dirt. My unsteadiness is bed. To drink and drink in, fooly the body of this. The hard chord of one impulse. I pressed a sour pear to my mouth in spite of …

He says I look

small from this far. Parting the windows on Sunday. Popping out. From then on calling distant as sparrowprints: he cannot tie things to his mind. What flails, his hands in here his hair where things left off, is not right. And people calling, small as sticks, up to him. Something, He does not hear.

I would weild

a large pair of scissors. Two eyes, two holes, big enough for his fingers. I would shear the field sighing over the surface of words. Flat yes flat. I would slip my hands underneath the new world and ask if snow is instead. If this is what we said. * earlier version published in Cab/Net …

Deer here

hoof the roots at dusk. Soon. It dims the eyelets of trees, swayings, a scree of lights I watch work across the black hills, gleaning. Certain birds scissor the poplars and counting them now is kind of balancing, we certainly did, fitting the bright snow into a holster. I held you to mountains and to …