NP

cakey

05.07.2012 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 [...]

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The quiet

03.29.2012 Days

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. [...]

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Losing the Day

02.17.2012 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 [...]

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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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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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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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Day Driving

11.10.2011 Days

With any luck, we can make a mark or notch. Comb the totem for messages against us. The day bright, stalled light, placards driving us for words. The bus. The bee on the bus seat, a little splendid. The knees that are folded upward. The children with their fingers. The coup. This, with all it’s [...]

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Blessed the Pilot Day

11.05.2011 Days

Blessed the pilot program, ramming thru. Pilot Days and tenebrous flyers. Cold air cutting under wingy for-realers. The pilot light hole, blinging  and blinging. Hole in the heart of the damp clothy clouds. Sound. His voice sounds like, in the ears of my huskiness. How did you grow up so, bro?  His bass voice flubbing [...]

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Give us this day

11.03.2011 Days

Give us this day our daily tiger snakes, their laces placed in dark pockets of night. These longer, more slender limbs made swimming, into modified water, for hotter or colder. Give us this forward and backward, spread. Pleasantly whirled. A circle of sleep

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