i
winter broke a-go
but patient does for this
CAN-AL
it must get used to
a-gain
so far from fruit still
far from cider
still fresh does the crisp
morning in the mud, leaves
have yet
but not the foam—one can’t
just swim this thing
you have to swim this thing
to think
none but a question, needs there
no gun to
tendril time
wood earth
stone
slide
like walls
two geese
gosling
moss
and the rust
still
an active choice
not to bring
how we can make nice
compactable ones
more sim
ple pi
le peo
ple bellies
and the runoff
salty my can
al
buts—my comings now
are merely to puff
with the facts of this place
and leave them t—wee
-e-e-ks later
when tractors
and all got it up
to our necks—
ii
we began the story each
character here as taste
tasting as I to be sure
how were we
more generous last time
when we were less
the chests get broad
in town it’s not
or your typical beer. seldom
has
a role to play
after all
it’s something deep, pure
PHYSIC
Al it is
Mothers’ Day
just before the commercials
the alming of ourselves
how about that. confessions
as redeeming, necessities
my Air is for. call it ego
and it is sweet moon
meant for things
or a wolf
if there’s no require
congregation, and I flock
we require simply one
one riot the next
round
iii
edges and the snow fleers
even to a blind man
when the dogwood blossoms
a sign. easy living. how the couch has been
slept Blue
the sun rises
and I staples
dripping rags
for the mail.
the tree outside
iv
today, to will
to stillness, there’ll be no
edges, they’ll revolve around. we’ve been eating
coffee and aspirin for breakfast
Plastican. she creams hers. the fly is on its back
twitching with death to be sure and I am
simply in no position. there’s still two more
flies in the room. conciliatory are we
merciful, must life with a shower curtain
being not just a shower curtain. belonging
is labeled on the side
of an empty milk crate, good for carrying
especially those of Signature, things
representing
an easier of what choices. for reason. time
not as soft as we’d like it to be
we think today, distances gauged
distances from me. how edges gravitee
corners, and the flies have gone. no position
will today simply and
tomorrow I’m reading the cats “Female Orgasm
as Proof of God” for all
its evolutionary principle. cats, in faith.
v
o newspaper, street sleeper
out and out goes up up up
windows, closer in terms
how dawn halves the city
glinting
and only sidewalks needed
electricity, eyes and eyes and eyes
dream, pigment, like coral
lighted grid—gray enough
just
street side
walks needed
graffiti
o
some planks of wood
and we shed a breezy pier
picnic grass the song of feet
breaking
from New York out to river
vi
“the indestructible day
blue and green where we movd
for all speech excites
all the purposes of ears
quite passive
soft is the night, rustling, and less
cones of light to walk
how driveways
leafy in the breeze old street
leaning porches, you moon
this here neighborly
we raise from shadows
clean are the stars waltzing
spun and spun on a sucking of things
the crickets sounding
vii
things things not things
today was somehow
something
rage of the living
wastelands, ok but busy after
even after
a conflation of winds
down garbage can alley
plastic bag
ballerina
invented, old forms
match
a low, steady flame
along the pothole streets
candles, newspaper on the plates
I wear a cat
like a second belly
these are the soft times
approaches
the living ’age
s
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