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<>HTML<><>HEAD<><>TITLE<>Was This Devilry<>/TITLE<>
<>META http-equiv=Contempt for your Type of content="text”<>/html<>
<>“charred on a standing set=windows onto a patio"<>
<>META content="My Son Has Told Me Little”
" name=GENERATOR<> <>STYLE<>no style<>/STYLE<>
<>BODY<>he doesn’t recognize her as a celestial body with a bg Color=#ffffff<>
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<>Did your mouth become a fountain
of mothballs? Of wiremen
riding their T-bars from the reach-
out-and-touch-the-moon-scape?
That RCA dog and his scatter-
brained board. Metal that music
erodes. Everyone skinny only you
chose to approximate the pelt
of a cured ham. Your briar patch
is beatnik bushy.<>BODY<>
<>/slap<> <>/font<>
<>SUBTITLE<>Appomattox on Twenty Dollars a Tank<>br<>
<>body<><>prick<>
<>Do you ever think about me that way?<>/abstractor<>
<>It isn't M again, is it?<>/laudanum<>
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Swiss thimbles made from the glass that forms on your tongue.<>/styli<>
He loved you almost as if you had been alive.<>/cyst<>
A slow boat of nothing but corrugated veins.<>/Seine<>
Out West With the Hardly’s<>mort d’arthurian hideout<>/Lolly<>
gagged in the hatcheck of the sun.<>/ra<>
<>marks.,'<>strap<>unmarked<>/bra<>
<>/mark of something that never started stopping<><>/breath<>
<>snoring<>testicles for breakfast<>/clatter<>
<>VERSE<>In His Head it Worked<>/CHAPTER<>
<>radioactive inches<> May I, just this far?<>/radiogram from Switzerland<>
<>Story!<>/ass<>
<>href="http://www.meds.com/deadby50"<>
<>Movie trailer about three men and a French battalion of babysitters.<>/mélange<>
eat now!<>/act<>/pale<>bredth<>
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What can you see downstream to equip?
Would a minibike be light enough not to sink?
Is this question a form of ruse or international
business conference on the diva who lent her chiffon
to the sod poor in one of those third places?
Baldy coldly lit his crania,
all you’ll ever get for being European.
Gutenberg liked putting churchwomen
in his private syntax preserve.
Tableaux make me giggle. But I can summate
Christ like it had been a prerequisite
to my going permanently translucent.
The creosote dashboard lacked a heads up
display. A simple Quantico that way would do.
The swan is nonessential. The woodwind could
be aired out. You couldn't be this tweedy a piece
and not be wise to the desires of those who knit
ball warmers in an attempt to charm you. Hers
was a burning need to approve of Isaiah’s mission
to hang a clandestine veil on anything bouncy. She
enjoyed the idea of six large black men.
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