People With the Places Removed

I surrender my captaincy in the Gaugeable, Ohio constabulary

this decision and the pyre of pixie stix will make one heroic climax

the ice encroachment from the arctic has been slowing

Christopher Walken is portraying the artist Prince in prison

I gabbed past security stole a glimpse of the treatment

a seedling in a forest in the umbrage of Waukegan

the story disassembles from there to fry

in a ballfield in Assuage, Pennsylvania

when one is needed a turnpike reveals itself

but subsistent is only as good as your floppy bulge

your gush and a badge weren’t a backstage pass

the chum need something for their blues

you in a bonnet of millipedes should do it

burn with your shadow doldrums in the crops

the sky after Batman was electric and full of shucks

all of the journals are piled on your deadlock

now I’m free to give your parsimony a jovial crushing

no arrest impending unless the heart of your dog seizes

but that was some skillets ago

lubed and eaten before being killed in? Banalia?

we know your nature is to glue up daybreak

with the croix de guerilla you croak of in fights

free as shipping a minimum of bane

I mailed you a fluffy stabbing pup

the boats are insatiable in a tailwind

Syria speaking may I have your ass as a cowpea?

assimilate what your table accommodates in fudge

where is my penny refund?

better pedal to the bottle reruns

I'd Like to Hang Around and No Need to Thaw the Medallion

Ever look out over a vast landscape of completely unrecognizable shapes
moving in all directions at once and think “this is not the world. This
is merely the world as a navigable circumference.”?

Ever take both kinds of advice from the same total stranger and ignore
them simultaneously just to see where it all went when the dominoes fell
from the cockpit? Ever wonder if the stranger might’ve really known you?

What would happen if the buildings all suddenly lost their outer skins
and the people inside were forced to live without anyplace to hang
their children’s lousy artwork? What if a real witch were under one
of those structures?

Can a city function as a connected series of things that come together
as a unified whole also? Or does it all have to end at the grassline
with the barons squeezing the settlers for more and more until one man rises
to the forefront?

What was wrong with that last image? Was it the fact that there was no father
figure in it? Or were you fooled by the change of place from an urban center
to the unspoiled vistas of a completely different terrain?

Does hard air make your words more brittle? Does time erode like the objects
that are eroded by it? Since olden times there has always been some person
who saw the chance to try and cover millions of acres of brush with some
porous fabric, hasn’t there?

Would you prefer to be on the top or bottom when the end of days comes
knocking on your motel door? Do you care that they are nearer than you
think? Or do you realize that this is just a method of measuring
your tolerances?

In what way would you say you go along with the crowd? Just for the free food?
Or for things that might make your feet feel good when the country is slipping
to one side? What is the name you give yourself when just you and your
gun are home?

School make you nervous? A French maid make you nervouser? Made up words
have any effect like going up and down your spine much like a French maid
might? Can you name three ways four men might serve their country by killing
five others from another?

Write one sentence again and again and again and again until you can replenish
the film stock used up in making the triumph of the will. If I say that was
a question would you dare to argue? Or let pure form have its way over what
the hard parts are there for?

The Phone Equals Green

Improve your situation by forming a cult of empathy!

The hook is half the battle. Buy the book and learn the secrets

the pros already know!

Think and speak in terms like “Flow” and “Energy” and “Freedom”.

Starting any business from the ground up can be daunting.

Today is your day! Make it work for you!

Right now someone is willing to give you $15OO just to go away.

Somewhere, as we speak, your energy flow is generating $35OO and more per week!

And even more per day!

Return some calls in your pajamas or from the tub, it’s as easy as counting

from 10 to 20!

Per day.

Share some fabricated information.

That's it.

No real work or effort or risk will be involved in your successful business.

Selling nothing to those who don’t need it is a double positive! Your energy

is flowing freely!

Further your desires before you even know what they are.

Details will arrive by email within the next thirty to forty seconds.

For your own instant sense of empathy call 8.

Keep calling, eventually you’ll know when someone is ready to answer.

Make this the Happy Holiday you’ve always wished your enemies couldn’t have!

Sleep in the shape of a letter, preferably W. Sleep with three people.

Preferably at least two of them will have names that start with the letter L.

Let yourself flow into your own energy with the emerging mind science industry.

I C U R interested.

I have to P.

I C that U fLt it.

Yr powers of MpathE R grOing already.

Put all of your money and your children into a large ba$ket.

Send the ba$ket to One One Five Two, Replaceville, California

Nine Five Six Three Nine.

A nu carEr as an Mpath with a cult of Ur own aw8s U!

Soon U will B telling me what I M doing B4 I M doing it!

Soon U will B contacted with further instructions.

Keep your mind clEr. B redE 2 move.

http://www.notlongbeforethecoming.com

Freedom From Layer Disorder

There were two women with the same thing.
Neither got better. They had kids and the kids
didn’t get better either. Just slowly faded out.
It was our first priority to try to stop just the top
level from spreading. We attempted to do this
dance on the walls to distract the patients from
too much brooding over the fact that they were
seeing the bedding through themselves.

Without much success I’m afraid. But who
gets excited by that kind of display this many years
after that Lionel Ritchie video with the people
and the room and all that eighties joie de vivre?
They began to behave like trapped wild animals
looking for a way out of their cages. The medication
was for the one who kept ripping his arms on the
brackets. He would just hang there mimicking

us. It took half the staff pulling together
to finally get him down. Near the end you only knew
they were near you from the sound. Some of the more
advanced cases learned that in those final stages
you can down several gallons of plasma and look
like a blood beast with no distinct outline
sloshing around the corridors and operating
theaters. One used to dip her female parts

in the open thoracic cavities of heart patients
under anesthesia. She would vanish in less time
than it took to convince oneself she had never
been there. Once the story leaked we began
to be asked how the public should react.
As if we ourselves might know or knew
what drove the public to learn what in
what degree. Finally all we could do was hear

the end coming and try the few remaining
tricks to stop the top layer from causing more
pain than necessary as it fell away. Soon things
beneath began to change. Then once inner
strata started peeling they each in turn told us
the same cold story. They told us they had become
the missing child and the search party both.
Until those who wanted to stop being people

underwent the first tentative passes at the secret
procedure we managed to prevent any inkling
of what we were attempting from reaching
the ears or eyes of anyone who might not have
since left us as yesterday’s headline.
Say something to me said one room. Another said
does this mean I’m still me? All of my former parts
are what? Off? Just that much smaller that I can’t see

or feel them as if they were still feet or lips or fingers?
We understood that what we needed in order to show
justification to a large portion of the public was the whole
thing reduced to a simple formula. The broad strokes
and only the broad strokes. So a man was now
an elevator at the cost of the head he might have
lost in any case? It was he himself who authorized us
to do that which we eventually assigned the code

name Architecture Times Quarterly. Through a series
of ATQ experiments on terminally vanishing
patients we were able finally to successfully apply
many of the last intact and usable layers in a way
not at all dissimilar to the same procedure we had used
before to stain the feet for removal. In the end the result
as you know was not the same. The walls discolored too
quickly. The escalator with growing hair incident.

And with the press back to their interminable sniffing
we nearly took the program fully underground. Almost left
the building and burned every page in the journal
that went deeper than the surface levels. So. Fifty years
after the dye that had passed through those two women’s
systems seemingly without negative implications
and to no one’s detriment we began to see the warning
signs. That and a man who changed his mind about going

up and down. A choice which he made himself between
his conscience and that of his god. The women
were the pioneers pressing beyond the threshold
of what seemed possible. The men may too have
sacrificed themselves to the accumulation of knowledge
but men are like that and they were in a different facility
miles from ground zero. We kept the sexes separate rather
than risk any questions like why is the exterior of the middle

school sweating that way? Or why does my kitchen make
me hot? The heroes if you will of those first tentative steps
should be well remembered in history. If not for them
we might have a completely different and arguably less
effective way of addressing the problem should it ever be
necessary to re-skin any of a thousand varieties of old
and deteriorating structures. Thank you for your time
and attention. And thank you Emily for the use of your hall.

If Style Opts a Likelihood Evolves

Started to shave and saw nothing there. Couldn’t feel mirror’s surface.

Got on phone to Diane and asked if she could hear. Voice mail box full.

Stopped as usual at station for Red Bull and paper. Gates chained and padlocked.

Watched some liquid on window for what felt like hours. Never trickled.

Took sodium pentothal to check facts. Awoke to blank notebook.

Noticed being less appalled at gunnery exhibit. Thought that odd.

Played Beatles in car. No instruments or vocal audible.

Used calipers on beltline. No longer obvious glutton with pizza gut.

Tied and threw wheelchair down stairs. No mother left when it hit landing.

Tried to despoil pure view by peeing on prettiest spot. Stream cast no shadow.

No aroma from Casanova Bar and Grille. Headache from nasal strain never came.

Deafened by silence at mall. Rent-a-cart free and not sale crazy by closing.

Found rare Ankh in roped off area. Proved to be rusted church key.

Chin cleft gone in moment of intensity. Pressure of Christmas gone.

Stood before cross not burning on lawn. No fluid in lighter no pocket no pants on.

Walked to Nowadays Park zigzagging to avoid no one. Bitten by no dog.

Europe held no more touristy appeal. Sipped air through sealed straw.

Inertia lost all its draw. Blanked on lines from Sierra Madre scene.

Made more meaningless noise. Couldn’t tell difference.

Developed liking for poodles. Forgot how to play fiddle.

Looked for flunky to carry i-pod. Jaywalked but no police.

Read famous unwritten novel about no mythical gods. Spat on own grave and lived.

Glutted burger container with undigested whopper. Began to hate sports cars.

Danced polonaise with tincture of wine in nose. Lost first name of Borealis.

Put posy in lapel. Died on contact.

Invented new polymer for export to Brazil at major markup. Elmer’s worked better.

Became noted unknown practitioner of naught in particular. Spent night applauding.

Injected gram of coke zero in arm. Remained no more or less puny.

Prefab scenic drive produced no false emotion. Left bloodstone stand empty handed.

Carved world’s longest river with back of fingers. Nails never chipped.

Fought McClellan to standstill at his tomb. Sat on ground and dry wept for him.

Forgot catechism. Fever broke.

The Percentage That Wished to Associate

she was a one man imbroglio
that kid could hammer some Brahms
driving the car in a box of acrylic shitfaces
the flotsam of a base Nilla
thinks she’s the river from which whatever
convinced of her own omega vitamins
nipped here and there like a bulldog on sciences
t-bones out the gills and earlier bereft
a subtle Tyson worried about his impossibility
in a stupor position of snakes
canopy lots offered free
no spoke wheels on your claustrophobia
versatile in the kitchen as a cutting threat
even skinny she’d have had no lap
to spotlight buried herself in gamuts
billing her hair as a common hazard
then sis comes on and discharges for the gay
hayride to the bridge sunk in the port transpacific
your visit is not appreciated neither
is it cozy to put you on these ingots
a considerable boat of gravy was in the making
the shiv you got cheap uptown
bisex we mean an adjective you accept bare
faced the conman in the cow pen sated him
with a story and a puff of dullard tons
the gluts are a mine of seasonal want
and you whacked golden for her perspective gavel
a guy named Greg Aerated wants to see your tats
as devious as these pixels as half stops
we live to watch the apple become a fatal jam
in the throat of the frumpy martini some warpage
one thumb goes up to the uses of the windpipe
“I told a man once with my bare hams”
become a fixture

The Handsome Young Bottleneck

What do you say to Garth Asteroid and his pull down metal hat?

there are fields of the never filmed in your loops?

that and point out the expired copyright on his smack light

he took that badly and fired an Arab man-salvo in Sweet-n-Low flechettes

shaving his adaptive arms to the lye pits of the Jesus crevice

once drumk enumpf revealed the deleterious deals he was floating

he had long since herded like Sluggo would a dot

the unguarded shoals of the Arctic lilting tollbooth

keeping our shores bear free in a Piltdown line and rising

then to annihilate ants with a Ferris scope

and the eloquence of stupors

I see his jeans clamped to a trestle on the face of Maris Pedestal

where the give it the throttle boys then browsed a patch

better had cover your built-ins in lip balm to be safe

that ticking denotes a philanthrope

in the afternoons they affect a calligraphy pose

trying to digest all of the dunes we as deaf kids whittled to

the size of a cat-herd with the wood glue backordered

what we do in the nest is practice

when we ramble across the chart it’s serious

a blowback actor in love with a meter sheathe

there’s a teaspoon of triplet you have to drain

if it comes up black we’ll let it burn then capture its destiny

build a snow big bertha in the chill of the Persian sundog

red as a mountain of no regrets out on the town with Turgenev

he’s the kind of ruffian that befalls the damaged peeps

thus the gun stall in Six Flags Over Boot Hill and I dine with a sister

of the Ten Gallon Order but insinuate nothing more than Dodsworth

on the strain and leaking swanky

this business of the missing caviar giant baffles

but the more they scream the greater its power to exhilarate slabs

come in and let them review your breath

just saddled to go among the leases

the holding pews stuck up to Planet Blasted

with a handful of some bent nickel

The Point of Light

the point of light
the sad leave of naught
the conference of the rash
of school in shanghai
of showgirl in self-pity
less brainstorm than stabber
with poise to lightbulb
with a relative in harangue


the tidemark of botany
the pining of treadmill
of gear in anomaly
of net in the keeper
less tantalizer than a cipher
less bristle than federation
with kennel to settle
with wither in broken snowball


the dung of ceramic
the quick-witted move of facility
the neuron strand of turf
of curator in serum
of idol in featureless nick
less light-headed than pantry
with a braid to beat-up
with the foods in minefield


the witness of chicken
the yolk of a license wish
the straightaway of aspirin
of slaughtered sunken eye in phonetics
of aphrodisiac in credit
less curiousness than validation crater
less ill than recur
with telltale womanhood to the shear


the straws of whitener
the sundown of the puppeteer
of a shame in star
of rap in interior bud
less vandal than diabetic scorpion
less painfulness than fullness
with workbag to self-acting
with shoulder in lease


the bullshit of logistician
the marksman of the skylight
the saccharine of discoverer
of extension in a key trait
less easter than cut
less greengrocer than bearded jingo
with measurably letdown time to slipcover
with covenant of rust in belt


the subcontract of plumbago
the ambrosia of sideswipe
the visa of accordion
of today in of today
less shark than directory
less a mosquito than snake drama
less solvency than pollen
with foraging to the positivist


the apologize of the razor
the basin of interval
the chill of a jadeite
of flatfoot in vacuum
less plagiarism than nymphomaniac
less party color than mortuary
with knuckle to investiture
with imagery in hoods

Looked a Bit. Did Not Find. Left.

so they’re boring and heavily engineered

the least you can do is be a civil

servant and serve them their fine bait fare

with a smile pulled down like a nut to punch

from the hutch in Sondheim’s neck

he’s a takeoff rooftop

as seen on every a-type shack

the cumulous effect of all that snapping

turned a mess hall out of his enterics

Cindy Crowfoot burly in person

made so many braves capsize their Bradley’s

like Caroline forgot to salute

that’s a naturally pathetic dreamer

the will to meditate till the heart is the IED

Natalie slices the air into threes

they all toot and drive their hair to extremes

I’m ten clicks away and getting lanker

by the infirm and my perusal of their excelsior

I can see Olive done by the vines

Dylan singing to Sarah spelled Mercury

Roosevelt James Prince Admiral in a can

you and your comic books amplify the lame

and a hut sprouts from this flagged dinosaur egg

in my chest we are isochronous and content

Cecile unshackled and handed me a classic war story

the custodian of the Lincoln Theodore Monroe Andrew Perry

off ramp rest area slots

it’s all just a musical cofactor of Goldwater and his Motorola

drunk and barely bellicose as a commoner

the place is overrun with makeshift centaurs

now you be the bushmaster and let her play recombinant

when the sky is felled by a capaciousness of exhalant

that’s the beehive on candid camera killing forward

from the coldest part of the elder headsmen

that new law about car bombs you have to hydrate more

the Hmong don’t want portable electrocities

neither do these firing pins

so sit down and open your arm

we loved each other now the treads are separated

(something was obliterated like a church)

these are the only cards left in your fanbelt

to grandma’s Alabama with a fresh convict escort

cut to the quick to contend with it directly

when it hit they were singing Gloria

laughing about that asparagus and cum thing

Was This Devilry

<”!DOC CAN’T I TYPE ORDER MY HOTEL MAIL IN”>
<”!ONLY IN IT PUBLIC HAPPENS">
Transitional.
<>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<>
he wants her to give him head<>/HEAD<> <>slap<>

<>BODY<>he doesn’t recognize her as a celestial body with a bg Color=#ffffff<>
<>font color="white"<>
<>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<>
<>
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<>

<>font color="empty"<>

<>BODY<>liquid<>BODY<>format<>BODY<>
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.
<>BODY<>nightlight<>BODY<>lifelike<>BODY<>

<>font<>”blacklight”<>/fount<><>containment<>/
<>EXOBODY<>constrained/pleasant<>/HOTMEAL<>