Living On Beyond Your Wildest Dr.

when you have a writer you have

when you have a country you have a page of

when you have a seam to give importance to your

when you have a sea monster you need

when you have two during his one

when you have the advantage of the sun behind

when you have nothing below you but

a big place knows when to say goodbye to its tenants

when you have gone so deep into a long tunnel and heard

when you have to say what you say you would never say to

when you have a history it fails to meet

when you have all these strange people fathering your

when you have important plays you might perform at

when you have no use for the times in which

when you have his boy though he wanted

a good landlord will give the land to another lord on his deathbed

when you have these specimens from under the water near

when you have the best part and his expression makes you

when you have given him your self-looking mirror and set it

when you have had it preset since

when you have known all about what he left when

when you have pictures of when we were small where

when you have back the pictures he took when he left you at

to be locked on all three sides by water is called fathering the egress

when you have one hand only

when you have the willingness to hand the torch to someone who is

when you have met your father and together you

when you have no land to picture as

when you have the next change ready before

when you have told the time that it came from

when you have been laid in frost and began to

for the pleasure of a different sound it might be your chosen work to hear

when you have sent for the head teller to complain about

when you have snatched a clump of what went on top of

when you have said the words as if as if you wanted life to become

when you have met and married all those who have waited in your

when you have been called

when you have the calm to be in the air current from a passing

when you have the composure to float in the light of a drifting

you have been sent to testify against the man who fell out of sight

when you have the evidence against a prehistoric beast of unknown

when you have to cross miles of thorns where it seems

when you have tomorrow’s times and refuse to read the new

when you have caused a man to say

when you have the right they gave you back the day you

when you have the line to show the writer you no longer need

when you have a sound only you can hear from the day he

there is only water until you swim away

The Thunder They Were

run alongside the plow.

reach under the moldboard for the missing tenet.
it will tell you all you need to know for the coming troubles.

this pattern of stops will loop until it becomes catchy.
it resembles an apple by rousseau.

there is a single letter, the first, that would alter
the yalta agreement. a moldy torpedo, a used id,
a cowpoke with inattentive adhd. relating over latte.

if three thousand screens are diffracting at once
the deodorant question becomes a form of discurrency.
the removal of shuttle busses to and from the mall.

intertwined between the curves debate and weather
in august under a system of spatially outmoded desserts.
I like the one with pieces of an active funnel cloud.

and all those congenital dorian grays with cartography
of their home worlds in attics scattered around the planet.
this was the official song leaked to the media. the truth is once
is enough, the rest is in a sudanese shed awaiting reassignment.

or so debby’s chat message said.
I don’t know, I realize, how to tell a brooklime
from a fist of cobalt powder taped in bytes to the ends
of reeds along the reservoir bank, not technically a brook at all.

in matters of water there’s nothing an old botanist can do, the dingy
is self steering. an advisor would be redundant. we have raul buried
on the island and a television to keep us informed of the frightful things
we adore. like dumpty and jennings and surreptitious cleavage.

Notice how little we offer our attention to the midsection.
this might almost be a furlough. the infrastructure of the word
infrastructure is like a ball of wax. or a can of breast of tuna, if tunas
had breasts. it eats into itself in order to find the missing letters.

kids don’t like it much. the neighbor pretends to caulk up the cracks
in the sidewalk, as if that will repair the wounded land. I was this close
to getting a part on that show on retrovision about applied alchemy
and the bums in doorways in and around fort knox. a pat answer
would be to commend the acclaimed patrolman. don’t argue.

a less exact answer would fill the crowd with dread.
fill an undeniable need. ramp up to full mach negative zero then speak
kuwaiti to allay the fears that you are too inexperienced to be that funny.
keep your database squeaky clean. like michigan clutches its cherry.
wishful cherry. late axe. idiotology aka proletariat eyesight.

any assumption at this stage is no more than an emotion
buzzer. like the hand buzzer you use on any new acquaintance
with access to nuclear jokes. your committee cosponsored the above-
mentioned martini bar at near space altitude. you based each decision
on astrology. on the back of the rover a plate says beelzebub construction.

l ate you as if you were a marvelous onion. osiris benighted the subdivision
before you could eke out your cursory gob of spit. issues involving chiaroscuro
to obscure a race driven killing. that reasoning is just choppy enough to fly.
I have the prerequisite dog. her name is absinthe. she does a good job
but my cockles are still cold. time to admit it is not a credible union.

at least we don’t have to get dressy for the ceremony of the roach. at least
we have the chemistry down. remember that cheshire whatever that meant
something to do with not meaning what you seemed? that grin cost us
a double tithe at the church of the bobbing bernice. what he is singing
about now is no more colossal than the cat he bought the flowers for.

how very redoubtably day-glo of you. you need these people in their pants
with gem studded flies kept happy and denumerable. chrome plate them
where they stand and golf. autograph their myers-briggs results.
get down with their boogie though it mangle your self image.

the nephew of osiris says everything is scratchy. it’s his way of masking
his lack of interest in you as a subject. like penmanship to a cat. like a can
of tuna with impressive rack. colette had a rig similar to this. used it as a lamp.
re: an inhospitable cpa with colorform welcome mask. the baby is cartesian

but preens like the mother to stay aloft. the numbers are more aggressive.
they convalesce without considering the sign that says dump toys here.
the baby is a rabbit in a helmet. discount the annals of the bowtie comedian.
he is the embodiment of gloss. you are the embodiment of his fever blister.

think of the dead wood in a dollar. now think of a bar. the windows are opaque.
being virtuous in no way obliges you to engage with caucasian sniggers.
think of how much admiration a derriere can arouse. now imagine one under your
pillow in each white hotel, extemporize a turtle. alternate nightly with a stork.

let me tell you what you know. you are the blastula of a pincushion.
you are a bomb’s carfare. a leach ate your babysitter and her backup whole.
tore a swastika from the national debit card.

now you are sewn into the matte, bedazzling as arson. a convex wavelength
of digits. the heart of the quintessential deodorant ghost. nothing now can
stop you from parting the sea of the concentric fears. come thump.

cars go by in oil on board. such images will line the crucifix u-store-it locker
on that gone-to-seed property. they will grind you into a lathe of robes.
perforce make pap your depreciation index.

once is enough. the ember is a comparator. the ember is a field of computers
in silly skin. as irremediable as meat to the homeowner.

when the transfer occurs the provision for alimony is tallied in cows.
you herd a riddle of dinosaur stopcocks. the hors d'oeuvres are a glut of ravens.

each tine represents a new ark. exxon in the acropolis.


(the geodesic arch laid on its side kicked in the domes till laughter pops.
a buzzard as a lapdance afterthought. a straightjacket made of oilcloth.
proof that the frontiersman had a sort of lapse. complementary transcript
and briar sandwich. over the nursery door a vixen being dressed in stone.
these your alumni, tuneful as a barbell. useful as handcuffs on boot hill.
no one remembers where they were the last time the shuttle exploded again.
dorothy dropped her foundation on sherlock. we all saw the gunshot stop.)

Preferred Costumer

Rudolph sat in a crooked cell.
The porter came and fell electronically.
A false account was issued, omitting who fell.

It cannot have escaped your notice.
In the cell Rudolph attempted to advance himself.
He leapt at the first opportunity to formalize

his dream.

All of their applications are false.

Electronically: no account is involved.
In both the classroom and the well
there was a condition misdiagnosed as glaucoma.

And the advice arrives hourly.
The monkeys, moths, moon, months, his voice
called to me with that old replacement parts list.

On this spot we will build a university

of the ulcer.

A pearl is a disease.
On this site we will grow a pharmacist
in an irritated shell.

Before the guests arrive it would be wise to confer
with the space travel technicians.
Rudolph must train hard and hospitals start too

early in the morning.

You will have some unusual duties.

The last of the monkeys takes his swing
at delivering the knockout punch.
Rudolph is called to the infirmary.

Over the course of the past year, programs
involving keys, an inventory of averages, hours,
(and the price of respect for patients who take turns

bathing in the radiation chamber) have taken much

of what little funding we had.

How do you like the new curtains? Does red have more
than one meaning in medicine? Floral elevations
as replacements for medication.

For technicians we’ll produce more in the pharmacy.
It's the program that's why we are (not a great idea).
A newly identified disease of medication names, actions,

effects that may occur,

insects that may assemble in a drawing.

On supervisory duty Rudolph found himself
caught in a machine, alone in the bowels
of the Incinerator and Eyecare center.

In pharmaceutical terms this is called a “cross
discipline”. The tasks involved, in pharmacy math,
are a code for your assurance of expiration

before having read the contraindications.

A hospital technician is always training.

The programs at the Midlands technical facility
were too complex for college students and assistant
custodians had to take over in mid-customer-service.

Which has a refractory effect on the overall image.
In surgery there are moths, they may be acquired
at any medication terminal, or in the monthly newsletter.

Patients are doing a land office business

and POS procedures are another revenue chain.

It is vitally important that you ignore your duty hours,
as the pharmacy with the most people wins. The rooting
sections become violently contentious for the same position.

The drugs: today a valuable coupon will be installed
in your filling. Who are you turning your outside pay
over to? In the event of anyone anywhere’s death?

We don’t like the word practitioner.

We prefer paid interpersonal technician

with unspecified certification mainly in basic subjects
such as: if two thirds of the illegals worked in the first
field and two thirds wore white in the second battalion

which would constitute Rudolph’s primary expertise?
A skin graft from a pharmacist’s foreskin or a must
see performance by hallucinating Mormons?

The hospital is the Board.

They may be the United States.

Approving an air to air associate’s degree, depending
on the Pharmacy tech in training. Mainly the fragments
are in a tricky stage of invasion of the body.

Explains Rudolph Coalbin (no relation), “Jennifer
Corebreach, a managed care representative, is converted
to a fully autonomous department. This way she has more

discretionary time and graduates to tie in other interesting

attitudes. The health costs of total submission are minimal.

Eye Care; a national association which publishes an average
looking newsletter plans to increase its hours to work evenings,
so that pharmacy technicians can help with the crating

and numbering of illegals. In one of the disease management
facilities, Rudolph and a pharmaceutical “professional”
“discuss” certain “terminology”, including

agreeing on her fee.

These calculations are covered under the Group Plan.

Of the handful of growing pharmacists now being
cultivated in the basement, one is especially intriguing.
The operations he can perform while still rooted

are of breakthrough number. In staying healthy, alert
and observant (and organized, well ventilated, cheery)
his areas of investigation are perfect for the women’s

notions counter.

All additional costs may be abolished.

With this success, food preparation and pharmacology
are now obsolete. The Pharmacy Cooperative Org., PACO
and the Alliance of American Associations of Associated

Applied Americans, ROSALITA, have joined with us
to rid us of our excess stores of faulty pharmacists.
And to install a new faculty of disease management

with Rudolph at its head.

They may prove that leopards are blind.

There will be a clean room in which H. Risk-Stasis
will do visiting consultation. Sharing between nations
is the key to suppressing the insect populations.

So long as the State requires a pharmacy
all technicians will survive and prosper, at cost.
The American retailer takes what he is investigating

and offers two to each of the pharmacies

Rudolph oversees.

The less said and the less improved the quicker
the turnaround time for technicians and assistants.
This facility has the nausea store

and as much as the competition can handle.
Also the proving ground for the blind predator
acceleration testing.

In any average is a disease

not be overcome.

The concept is putting a handful of several hundred
California pharmacists into a maximum security
pharmacy and making them “police” their own assistants.

Medical records are obsolete. Some technicians as well.
We're starting to see the products of their proper use
as a Board administers its water to the third party.

Programs: inevitably they will be enlisted.

To require the project with the machine.

A nice chicken stock and anise stirred in the secret
crematories, this is how Rudolph mastered the New
Math. In addition the leopards must learn to service

the other affected patients. Whether they are trained
or only the United States, they require another number.
A new system of doing new systems for each instance.

Nobody minds a winner.

It started as a series of safeguards.

Don’t do so much where a little will suffice.
And do less for every year in service.
Disease management; and why not?

It is the highest calling to be the pharmacist; what it takes,
what it relates to, and what it writes in the first moments
after being released from its root network.

A team of house technicians.

They learn to derail trains by medication at distance.

Otherwise, they also allow the business to move
in more than three dimensions. And again the leopards
must account for their actions.

They shop in step for their pharmacy needs.
Learn Braille to become recording clerks, dental
assistants, and rangers in the plains of brochures.

Rudolph uses charisma and pharmacology.

He certified Kris, a new technician, to add the reality to this survey.

New News Updates as New Effects

(Leave The Nine Behind Till Five III)




Her daughters are bluish

and cannot leave the house

The tall caw looks around

for a safe perch

Perhaps anything beautiful shines

the shining being beautiful

Perhaps a shining umbrella snores

the snore is the dust of a rhyme

Whose old oddly shaved Eros

is this Eros imitating

An eraser arrives in a mine

and men use it to remain

And mine is sleepy like a bin

of bins in a rushing cycle

Our cycles stand

for nothing tall

This stand is still

as a hole at dusk

This stand is still theirs

in the elevator’s case

This is the stand still there for them

when the hole is finally filled in

Their soft cat snores at noon

and noon does not remain

As soon as any white shining house appears

a new beauty occurs

Her daughter’s hairy magazine smiles

with Eros shaving the cover

Their rumbling wine calms down

with the passing green house

His little pen is on the sill

where the talking caw sleeps

His pencil is still fidgeting

with the stupid hand

Any soft glove smells soft

as any soft hand smells

Their purple book stands still and stills

the greening outside

Any hairy balloon sleeps

with the daughter in her railed bed

A round table walks

to the window and smiles

A small table is a kind of stand

standing for something smaller

As still and round as a picture smells

in the beautiful mobile noise

Any expensive boat is given to stalls

in the tide of a Sony morning

And her red magazine stinks

in her silver chair

And still any round soft bottle arrives

with the green wine on the outside

Her white wine stares

a Sony appears

A given noisy TV runs

as fast as the caw snores

Our smart small camera walks

and stares at beauty

Small cameras walk atop us

with printed phones

An expensive mobile phone spits

the caw expands its wings

However

the children cannot sing

The round shape is fancy

as a gag

The beautiful wine sleeps

in a bed of bottled grass

Their stupid white bed calculates

these lines in the snow

However

a sheet is as soft as her bluish daughter

His brother’s well-crafted i-pod snows

then lets go of his wings

Its value adds the odd shaved Eros up

in a cart that appeared then left

A moped is smart and still gets crushed

the road stops short

The sport shoe stares

into the hole at night

Our mine is deep as a well-crafted clock

running against the round shaped idea

The snores are the spirits of time

locked in the chair the daughter runs

Their red sport shoes are thinking as one

with the standing object

A bluish metal sliver in a bra smiles

and TV’s stand still

A bluish river of bras sells

what the baby erases with sleep.

Relive How It Wasn't

he sits perfectly still, statesmanlike.
fires his longtime secretary.
releases a single fly in the dormitory.
it’s an experiment.

is there spirit conductivity in granitic
foundations? what’s the one
about the seventh fold of the sun?
every car window is a lens.

there is no dare left in this dare.
wellington ate the constitution rare.
mildred pierces her low-key thigh,
cutting as a currency.

I crave a smart aleck with perfect kelvin.
ants are my superiors in lakes. I buy bulk
candles, drip hands solid in wax to find
my way home by fingerprints.

the roadhouse contains a chair, each chair
a lady, each lady her own cue, and a puppy
on the table makes it a game.
the stripes are loaded.

microscopic graphs in a rich field, a wavetable
on which to feed the wounded German
we’ve learned as a snotty word, to demonstrate
the separations in our conscious hue.

he sits perfectly still, modifies one feature
with a small inserted cone.
dreams of ronette pulaski, covets her hair.
it’s an expedient.

there has been a spate of paranormal
activity, a nemesis in the baseboards. is
home, the sunroom, around the next corridor?
is that sound something by zorn?

all of the motorists preferred illiteracy
and a sweater of deceased pets.
there are no ditches in denmark,
do you think it a coincidence?

you need an angelfish, binomial:
embraceable ghost. aquatic johnson.
cows are your minions in soup.
there is a pea always beneath you, asleep.

the larynx contains a whoop, each whoop
a juvenile outburst, each collegian a pen
with which to invent pennsylvania.
for this you call me a provocateur.

intangible graphs hitherto unseen by human
(the alamo, no rich church) archetype, we elected
to become abstinent because of the rent.
culled a lumpish texture from the paint.

he sits perfectly still, classically sordid.
his squeamish, unaffectionate son,
now the apostolic warden, calls him fusty.
he’s an exponent.

signs of the polloi, metered in hotels
with their hoi out, stormbound.
are you near enough to clean silverware?
can you put us in touch with dean?

the windshields have forgotten the wind,
contain only iconic information.
in denmark with no place to fall
remaining in motion is considered dutiful.

juarez was named twice, twice opened
an artery to the other side. one voted here.
the other had important business to eat.
the presbytery sink clogged at the mouth.

each address contains an address, each
koran contains enough gas, each peel
solicits an orange the width of a milking breast.
for this you call me and laugh, pitilessly.

the tangible single strand of identity, boogie
woogie (a nebulous sub-genre) the jobholder
enjoys on weekends, sex and deniability.
the rape scene is too esoteric to reprint.

he sits perfectly still, greenish, wooden,
thinks of the hills of spain, a woman,
an alpenstock in his pants,
its missed experience.

in the darkened parlor, a phenomenon:
the whir of a rolls royce, tuning in a band shell.
cut any one of us as proof, the gun on the table;
avenge your eldest son.

any auto trip that comes to a completion
is cause for optimism, the eyes end at the dash.
the danish word for savior is ditch.
they suffer no moment but this.

there are two forms of alabaster, one
can be had at a price, the other a shell, fragile.
we are hungry, can anyone hear us?
do these mouths work on sunday?

each infertile womb bears, each contains
a clash of conscience, a fixed set,
binoculars in the womb, he sits perfectly still.
for this you call me whore, an expense.

The Hearth Within The Mortar

Between the sounds the sounds are nameless.
Just the same, do something seemingly lasting.
All you need is a few to set you above their names.

A name as a kind of falling toward. Is a name
a life of servitude? Get out, leave everything.
It has flammable rivers going up beneath it.

When the fires in the rivers began the rivers
asked to flow between the sounds between
the sounds, back to where their names lived.

When the flaming waters ran through town
children ran along and thought it good fun
but the floodbreaks burned the children down.

There came an old man who told them how
to show the heat and steam who is in control.
He stayed until someone pushed him in.

This was their way of giving. Write uses
for change on change and throw it down
a melted metal storm drain.

Since this seemed important everyone took
great care not to read it. There were words
there that resembled the sounds of rain.

The faith in whatever the land changed
changed if the sound began sounding
scary, saying no, you must remain whole.

Make someone new who will go far enough
to do what we tell her would help the forest.
Parts of that story are patently true.

Tell him his small time here means less
the more is said about doing his homework
in soot along the banks of the smoke bed.

Say this page saw people, saying what
it means years after their homes had burned.
When do you think the page would fall to ash?

The last of the food is going fast. When the food
goes the land begins to renew itself. Partly
because we leveled that incline, partly

because, again, we refused to embrace
the dance of the passing of trees. The rain
that we thought would quell the burning

rivers was a rain of flames. Less than one
year of selling love in the ruins of the under-
growth and the whole venture lost momentum.

That one year should have produced a child
to replace the old one. That part that we used to say
in school to a picture of a tree ablaze? The will

said because times have been hard, I will make times
even harder, still. I will leave you all high and dry
in the night with the tinderbox near the banks.

The banks of one of those inlets. The one you
won’t discover in time. Her old sounds and the sounds
of her weeping silently into a microphone.

Any day it will come again. It will relieve us all
of our duties. It will also be very pretty. Parts of it
will be these parts of the night I have in my hand.

Then will I show you the features of the face
of the name you cannot write in ash on stone.
Then will you know that no one spoke here now.

Burl Fuentes Desires to Express Adios in the Dance

he remembers that it goes with the tuna but not how.

he ices his arm before the sprain.

he walks on the other side of the street from the building full of bulldogs.

he cannot see the buds but knows something will sing to him.

he dreams of a cycle that turns into a personal jet.

or a car that goes by file.

he wants his trim adjustments done by Friday at the latest.

he has a newborn daughter with tourmaline eyes on his agenda.

he believes once you commit there is some going back.

he sits home most nights plotting a stay-at-home uprising.

he doesn’t know he’s not still on the same celestial body.

or wearing a mask of his exact face.

he breaks the mold and repeals the party stance.

he borrows a leopard and a work permit from a smiling stranger.

he establishes a beat akin to a rhapsodic flogging.

he blinked when the camera annihilated its lens.

he just wants to shout bishopric in church and run.

or be a Pharaoh corroding his torus with wine.

he shook hands with Dave Fainéant, lord high chamberlain of Dollywood.

he has been like that since childhood when he was kissed by a cowboy actor.

he thinks it might have been Berkowitz somewhere near the disco villa.

he is the gryphon and his history is that of the screechy bedroom.

he was married in a dream and his millions of brides skipped in unison.

or he chose them desultorily like so much speculative acreage.

he always reads the fine print first then forgets it.

he turned the corner and warped.

he heard a voice call it calamitous but could only feel a general calm.

he experienced another vision of a cone encrusted in delinquent child-women.

he knows there is a beret his size in the stable.

or a man named Edna to gauge the scale bayonets.

he enrolled in a course on anecdotal daggers presumed fictitious.

he ate that cannibal hiding from an algorithm.

he then hid his serial number under the canopy of apocalyptic triumph.

he looked nice in pinstripes for Yom Kippur.

he hearts his subsumable income.

or the yardage skews into decomposing fables.

he will give you a buck for your nickel.

he will then suspend you by the neck from azure jute.

he is not the one from the bionic banco.

he is not the banjo from the bone saw collector.

he is the conscription no one focuses on in heat.

or he lives on a street called Radical Cliff.

he submitted his terms and résumé in a beaming stein.

he is nearer than you know to the sheep.

he has no withering stare but will by then.

he cannot grow a convincing beard.

he has yet to coagulate but all will reveal itself in time.

or he’ll have it off with a klatch of fusing sisters.

Freedom Must Surely Pay For This

torsion is your friend, you live in the same building.
you and torsion have lunch on alternate Tuesdays.
seems like those laughs will never end.

in the directory that lists the various serious
risks to the ear: the abrupt movement on your bedpost
of a mynah in a toga.

carpal tunnel from which no hand emerges. funny
or just sadly ironic? the hand without a surgical
flashlight implant. The darkness that falls on

cities with inappropriate names: Aleister
Crowley, Massachusetts. West Mt. Vernon,
Mississippi. Elvis Presley, Germany.

a light missing from a fist, young man on a tank,
idealist passing out xmas bonuses to the house
slaves. bread left blackening in the oven.

the book says all your countrymen could burst
something delicate in your canal. why so
circumspect? need the question repeated?

torsion is having your artwork appraised
for beer money. thinks William Demarest was our finest
tragedian. we need a new rooster, the old one

is crowing at passing fireflies. torsion got hired
as an underling for Arminians, women carrying
mangoes hidden between their breasts.

they only weep because they know someone died
for them. the crosstalk Newton took down verbatim
was junk from another space. Palagiana.

neither celebrity consists of morning, feathers
or the screed of a tin, enameled headdress. silver
birch, yellow birch, white birch. how many others

can be claimed? the skullsman collects his work
at dawn. listens for the rooster. peculiar, he thinks,
such a grandiose absence of a noise.

all Palagian women are deceitful by sixteen.
you can tell by the fang marks on their areolae.
the snakes will come in time, in time cum.

that at least is the Copenhagen interpretation.
a mynah sucking a hay seed, building a dormer
on his perch above the Wesleyan garden

of flightless mimetic savants. observing the lint storm
obliterating the eye. in the Balzac Sea, a small isle,
they laugh at the joke about to be told, the hundred

novels unwritten, illumined only by the gash,
where Newton’s second hand came loose and flew
one hundred and twenty feet, fracturing the raqiya.

the needy with an inordinate will, the desire
for a metal birdbath to heaven, can't find a seductive
bailiff to persuade their Vincent’s to sell.

Vincent’s Chrome Tomato. Vincent’s Candy
with Hidden Razor. A Gram of Opium, Unsigned,
Attributed to Vincent’s Nonexistent Student.

Gauguin’s Vincent Painting the Universal Clockworks
with a Crow Reciting the Planets’ Middle Names.
the White Birch are susceptible, die silently, at night,

black form on a branch. in Beltsville, Ohio they just clean up
with charcoal and the lit native of a strange land. the agent
of torsion debriefs herself in a diaphanous sheathe

entirely of live bees. she has a stinger not anyone could pull
off. the auctioneer crows, the mynah and rooster cum as one,
smoke under the table. everyone orders the Chicken Caesar.

He, Had He Not Abandoned

there was a flow here, detectable, once
a sense of an immaculate, what?

was Susanne the name of a service?
on a table in the parlor a snow drift

the laurels for penetration equal
to the equine laurels for a single leap

he, had he not abandoned the word,
still would, agglomerate the spaces

the prism around a delicate face, etched
in chalcedony, dead, through which

a series of gently curving moons
beams of the home she might have been

the body the property of the body dynasty
given limited power to rule in its own stead

in the pool the top of a hippo is barely visible
on it sleeps an ocelot and her litter

it has become impossible to govern this household
throngs of the pierced, the scarified gather nightly

their dance incorporates decorating each other
with the green blood of marsh creatures, inked

into the skin with teeth, tethered to the ends
of the canes of captive, shaved aldermen

before these situations generate widespread
storms, better bring down the satellites, pack

your carbon suitcase, the telekinesis
of lions to withhold information

by giving it flight above clouds
making dolorous sounds grow avian

for this art you will be believed
a psychopathic ring worker

clapped in county and made to be
an atrocity stenographer, brown dials

with which to record the autopsy
and the gradual degradation, its drain rate

then the thrown free montage
Pakistan on a single, living stanchion

the girls blinded and placed in a state
of freehold, affirming their ramp status

ala the albatross in the rime
a consensual phone, conduit hooking times

in crystals of pure milk, moon bright
that would account for the bouffant collar

and astounded hood, the clitoridean apogee
there was a princess, they say, who walked

the halls of the Waldorf, the secret one, saying
her own missa annualis, compelled by the signs

imprinted on her lips, thighs, labia
from the chantry to the ship’s galley and back

a wedding forestalled to attend to the bird
we know now it was cholera, but a guest

is a guest and requires cultivation, a meal
and to be put up, to be kept in thrall

there are chords in your skin, your data
the music of the stilled crew, a black sea bird

her glass lips at your breast, to sate a system
face of rivers within a reflective union, the chin

precision, suspension, then the chill, a tensing
of the cool veins, viewed by one only on release

a blue tree made indistinct, but more precise
for its lubricant, the eye chipped, a depth perceived

exchanged for trinkets, laid in ascending, supplicant waves
on the string of the maidenhood marionette

pupil that winks through both planes, through
the downturned palm of the black carpet

I See That?

I once wanted someone to call me
a cacophonist, very badly
a temptress, somewhat ironically
a claw, without irony
a visitor

I visited Montgomery in a waking dream
no i-ching, dated street map
no derma, lacking raincoat
no gate, spearpoints, electricity
a fog in black suits

to keep me fresh, creamy, suitably bedded
nothing I could afford, a mitten
a stile stuck in time, a Beardsley
ambition to cow women, I awoke
with such a head

does a weasel lease his speeches to men?
is cuisine an art form? a batch
process, is that an art form too?
is any form a form of endurance, purged
of its obvious cemetery

a lover once broke my window, speaking
of me as a port, an age not to be
returned to. I felt good about it
tightening the tourniquet, growing
faint but alive.

habitué as white and remote as I, a bonus
in our social compact, his sock puppetry
shattered convention, I shared him
with a wallflower, Vicki Lester, the will
of a can of nitrocellulose and camphor

to survive, lure, fade, learn the abc’s in code
he was the more educable, but blue
when drawn from the creek bed, in two
shattered back, missing glasses
the cost of empathy, a copperhead

in his jacket sleeve. that can that contains
a glob of something acrid, rustlike
but dopey, acquitted, runs a small farm
producing glitter, proctor and gamble
fund him under the table.

I fell in love again recently, with antimony
thinking her a path to becoming, lead
blindfolded up the face, dark?
sides aching with pricks, naked
wet as the new chieftain.

She forced something into my mouth
an airborne tincture of blue, a toc
earmarked era’s end, the rampart
on an act of advancing, a reliction
I fell and slept. She incited

The Sepoy Mutiny.