What happened in there?
Narrow rail, sheer curtains..

Step out of that church.

Never confess.

Close to our sources I believe in the healing power of unhealthy options. Percussive isolation. Resentment buried in a colossal physique. Orpheus, the overspontaneous, beating through a dinosaur theme park. Don’t care, I only lie about what I believe is without a theory of purpose, no gift of agency to promote his case. Masking vanity becomes his sidekick’s challenge. Outside

fizzy yet salient talking points soak toward a nudist beach hanging in as your escape hatch (always the last place you look!)

I got a grip on the heebee-jeebees.
Times are an outrage. Good times, lean, treason’s treason.

We’re tracking sick jokes thru cable anxiety —
for prejudice damn well plays its revisionist bias, looks like
a XIXth century habit of selfish accommodation I’m deeply not interested in.

Tax breaks for the wealthiest (owners) keep’em watching a certain cable.

To look is also

(we note now at the end to physics-oblivion)
to be seen.

Here’s one’s take on getting back together. It’s Saturn
— I think — healing (a method) stitched to transparency (washes of shadow)

& aspected by hedges, in the ball park, almost. To go on shifting subjects
— I whisper to you, falling myself for tweezer directions —
panicking in a big light second too soon — too late thinking — again — I’m literally
in compliance w/ odds off bets placed already wherein
chants, conflicts w/ breakfast & rubbery clouds go low:

Nobody totally killed it. The bonuses aren’t destroyed

at present. Tho the Apache state repaired to is offered only in a ‘thereabouts’ pattern...

Coat of arms:
There’s something to mining homilies and off-color
copy, imitating / replicating narrative in tandem for the evening drive and later.

We’ve now passed the second-cousin stage of wretchedness. You’re
good to take it up with authorities before severing qualms
whose ambiguity is settled by mere syntax
as warm-to-medium as a visual partnership queued up for sleepy play.

Voices in funnels, a trickle down of their futurity,
Dropping my sights — now they’re rising
— the fastest way to earn points. And yet
We’re surrounded by a new opening line:
We write poems for children, progeny.
Forward, a debit resonance favors our successors —

We’re nothing but their voices that bell without words now.

Make a difference, make us an offer
As Baby Wateau vanishes
& the cake sale fails — vanished out of memory & sight as I am now.

The plot leaves the door to irresolution ajar —

Guess what, your departure was jolted down in segments like a lax rattler
spinning in slo mo. It adds an all night ring to our narrative, id est,
the needle is breathing hard, leaving the mouth hole
open to hesitancy
and availabilities for picking up the dissolved thread.

You & I change very slowly with a shower curtain,
on televised football. Management didn’t like our coming back, stepping up,
raising your pulse rate. Or is your sweet smelling flame just to remind me?

Trump investments.

Absence of thought rules for supreme authority. Top markets are filled to their brims with intricate crosshatches over pastel word clumps, busy yet redacted, absence of coherent thought. The soft vellum pellets change our impression quite a bit. A busy, contingent thoughtlessness that’s slimed, generally.
What does it mean to work? I don’t know that either. What I know is how to belong, stake out territory and bust heads, maintaining an atmosphere of trust.

Auto minimalism (3 steps):
I don’t know any means to practice externalizing ideas to show myself off to rainfall in faint sunlight; I don’t know how to transfer any contextuals or theory dated a hundred years ago or any earlier!

I think I might keep to one or two esthetic tenets, but tenets are narrow, vernacular resins across, I think, global surfaces.

Vernacular means I’m not doing it unless ego steps ‘aside’ and we get paid for sleep.

A disclaimer forms at birth, delays death

As there are two ambient music cartels: Doggone moosebirds and mice
striking poses with all their clairvoyant powers. De rigueur for now: You’re writing
over known injury to outrank others in the trivalence of thieves.
I won’t do your religion, good day.
Craning one’s mien goes on outside e.r., while any particular event passes —
comments from nonsuits, random admits, encapsulated video, lies — freedoms in this
vein take off at critical points. It’s personal, e.r. pros point out.
It’s conditions like these making it almost impossible to write enflamed
anthems and comb back your hair the same time.. Can you do that? 

Light with a spooky edge 

to sound off like your own critic.

Opening windows, pissing.
Perfect! Beautiful...
When the soup lady arrives, something inside of you snaps. You crack-up.
Exactly, exactly. It’s all gotten to you... poverty, deprivation,
peeing in the streets. So you reach into your knapsack... and you grab a
knife! You take the knife, and you lunge at the soup lady but immediately
fall into a numb coma. You are dumb, so you cannot speak, you grunt a little.
Okay? Try it. Good.

You’re confused? I have my poem now.

Emily’s echoes: according to the census,

Their presence filled with compression, minimalist ideals forming a life science of situation (Thoreau) and unobstructed sky (Whitman), unstructured joy, bouncing up years later with satiric multiples (Wieners, Ricard). Only yesterday! Literary worth automatically fills the page like scrub pine — becoming more fearless (less indiscernible) when units of innocence, acrobatics and self-neutering come together, vaunting in plain English — bigger content now addressed by new neighbors.

The music brokerage remains in aeronautical space.
A month ago a morning flew by.
My closest amigo my
most carnal ally. It’s a sea cooperation.

I was hit in the face when he turned himself in.
I knew I am unhappy and similarly, like most everyone, I am not —
The 1st few words take on destabilizing character. I’m trying to clean this up [snip] have to leave enough ‘intent’ to keep me pleased after I’m finished he’s finished. This is an exemplary yet limited procedure, so I’m framing it as fun exercise, cutting straight through its own restructure creating more choppy patterns to abandon ...

By popular demand we sign off on others’ labor — A newspaper edition, documentary remnants, penetrable databases — We occupy this clever, conceptual nook, curl up. At times siding with the powerful is deliberate as well as passive-aggressive. I’m kidding. I’m staying sarcastic — It bears repeating un-ironically there’s audible glee not being perennially the other and oppressed. The oppressed are wise guys we avoid where or when we can be free — On the outside, in place of a popular voice, the guys outsource bouquets smoldering w/ the emancipatory normality of assumed dominance.

This? No proof —

The Conservatory’s always noting this minus all common sense.

Come out to play, sample finding out
masked hostilities and indecisiveness of too much free verse
backed up with inexact and multiple percents of crooning
about what we were doing before [give me a sec..] took hold,
instantly recognized as forged identity.

Identity and hardened m.o.’s from silences, retakes
and feral confirmation of feeling tickled by long, measured piano hands

(once you forget a few practice all this).

As ‘he makes his profits, remind yourself...’
the president’s brain is said to resemble Chuck Norris’s. Interesting
esthetic, not fatal — Chuck had a punning bone, also he was a merciless kook. Really
his movies remind me of tin futures & allegiance to ice
ants swarming as active mind controllers sidle away —

I will never betray metaphysics oxidizing beauty goals.

The main thing is to tell a story. It is almost very important.
— O’Hara et al.
Composing like this focuses on writers, how they are unionized and almost surrounded. Refocus is prewriting.

Snapping to / unsnapping.

The power


system is decentralized
mounting a bait and switch to chalk up
the utility of hip lingerie per se,


discreet shipping, and in
this case nothing can be serene.

Anyway, go to long love making memorizing
parallel futures on a projective plane.

Why go there without force?

When we last rehearsed this,
it made no language difference what we
believe or what the soul is.

The enlightened instant comes down
to how this can be put together
surely, entirely.

I’ve got to hold back. Not go down.

This is in response to the commerce-vector coursing through popular concepts, bringing unique comfort to support one’s position in the food chain, which is in dispute.

I adhere to the same late-filing rules as you. We’re keepers of years all night.

Art is theft. I’m almost a novice enthusiast. Years from now.
We meantime need fresh lexicon set for the mind-body headache, words to determine their own behavior, items like primality and cuboidal, glints of jazz, a glorious set.

If you know rhetoric
changes our feelings,
it changes others’ behavior,
especially in unloving deeds.

Your codicil changes
the way I feel now,
the way my id reads another
lover of mine coming up just now.
Benji, stop that. Strange dog. I’ve decided to beat it out of you.
Say something. You’ve lost your spirit and pulse.

One writes, “Linked phrases run through the a’s, b’s, c’s on & on, but a-phrases, again, often point to the answer (the kind I am).

B-wise, your creativity
is not wasted in remorse.
What you owe: I know
almost and almost lost,
unfinished, in everything. For the c’s
I move along a scratchy plain
of dandelions, peony, clover:
It’s always time for your renewal:

and I see your new forms
as I fill in the latest questionnaire
putting my back into it.”

I’m sleep.
An only hill.
I’m learning squat
Until you get home.
I’ve been searching
Awake most nights:

A clean face in the morning − caped
W/ sounds. Sounds caped w/ light, the best.

Dogs in woods by the ocean
Together, like them and like us,
Can you fill in the stillness?
Keep an eye out, the ocean over?

Repeat this so it’s approved,
“I don’t know about you”
But in a tone more affirmative
Like the jeweler’s words for whalebone
In measured blues − all the while

This portion, like all comebacks, hints of a larger we-don’t-know
− was it something to do with the singer to one side, blocking another?

Do we lead a life another sings with you?

We fail to clarify after political glamor there’s poli rant along with new protocol watched over, even policed nightly — many topics in mind so a few words take on character, a wince, a tilt of cap or hat.

Current government gives a glimpse into events shaping war per “The Owl and the Nightingale.”

The passive voice wastes time for you to prove your anger. Propositional semantics =

key [snap] decisions, arguments, further jibes, shaming within a sub-class of invective, a face-off to persuade waverers. Mote Julius Caesar, Juliet, “Much Ado About Nothing,” “Battle of Maldon,” or fields where Saxon facing Welsh sat on decline benches, threw slurs across Blackwater banks. Add flytings of Skalds of Old Norse in Simone’s Droplaugarsona Saga, as well as Scot Dunbar et al, “Montgomerie et Polmart,” plus vomitous insult at one another from Middle Normans freezing progress for the Republic of the Nightingale.

It’s closeness ahead of this shaped by time gone just like that.

Let’s now prescribe observance of just plurality
for each plebiscite, any obvious bravery.

Let’s is imperative like show your muscle when shouting to a bold candidate.
The source of bravado was not sad. Separation from the source is.

A magnificent evening is given to register your appeal loosely, persistently.
Gaining or keeping each other’s attention we call the blues to outlast an oblong date,

meaning frame and ligaments hold no feeling, without you as the prime source.
No feeling is not sad. One registers and votes sadly.

Fair illustrator. Killer. Otherwise I’m a coffee head. Question..
Have we ever done anything but toy with forecasting weather? Oh, who knows? Oh, fair Ladytron. You know, you seem so fake-excited in your periphery, kind of staying inside a soft radical anathematic vapor, loosely true

Yet about to be demolished. Ergo your discourse comes down as animated routines. No personality.
Going back, favoring a fair objective

Boy-girl, you’re is in a chess game.
I’m going to castle you. We are..

Shall I mark you as another true ambition
in an illustrator’s incident layers, 3 in 1? —

Having what you’re having, sorting the dots’

Congeries of texture? I turned and asked again.
(It felt unwise.)

I’m new to this housewarming.
That’s why we have a dozen arrays for time & harmony.
Can waving spans of time like ‘crowns’ of contradictions
supersede nature,
a piece of research asks: Why even open
not quite a theory? it’s string conjecture.
Intimation, insinuation, innuendo.
Then it was something you ate.

Monkish hostility leaves the office to 1/2
-center on taking off for pinier points, points to please death, love,
                   desperate even dying.
You left me at random past care.

This dawns on me once
before blasted onward, discourse & chaos go hand in hand, as psychic as we are
— having seen it, married it earlier

& I don’t mind if I look worn or beaten up. I’m wearing

My love as a fever costume, stretched black poplin, black as hell in a trance.

& here gear management inserts a bonus to exchange and not so bad — 
a physical act of fondness that can only end in a draw.

Homeric language trends...
We can’t compress enough or too much. We were one people at one time (1,000,000 bce).
We also =
glistening statistics advanced by textuality. The underground =
stick abstractions and collisions within a dominant tribal (capitalist) identity.

ID traces out how to refine / displace any remnant of multicultural contempt.
Classification adjoined by adaptation passed thru descendants.
This break and entry ensue under a hot air balloon holding our beef jerky.

Once your public is mounted you can add your own awesome content!
Your first lover — so taut

— could heal you thru and through.
Then forces of narrative came seething, your breath fixed

to the floor circling midair as if it had a right to.
Also we see our ETA.
We won’t be a second late — your ex boyfriends
understand we can meet in the act of loving you.

That’s the upshot.

Since Schuyler, I forget what really and concretely mean in nature.

My tensile values are so skewed I forget William Blake.
I forget historicism.
It’s the same when I’m wearing fangs.
I can’t stop. It’s my job.

I have felt your voice,
heard your beautiful style —

from one touch,
one orated note.

Dozing has more ideas for here and the how
— we made contact then in light sleep
inspired by my taking your dream course.

No plans, we thought about speaking,
better than sleeping too much.

Dress casual \ spectacle,
putting my life together but keeping your drift ..

On a highway, gentle search lights
— Luxury vans flow in aid. Further uphill
Hauling “rays of light that seethe patently” —
Stolen beauty ...he gives it his way!
He can afford it.

A ray’s lip, your lip, curls in his record performance /
Your opinion or position counts, a worthy argument
Made easier — You take the wheel,
Officer. I’ll hand it to you & have your way —

Then thank him —
There’s due process replicating our facial
Comfort in raw push-pulls...

Touching on other behavior in a wily, rough
Translation (desultorily asexual)...
Brutality extending just to your cheek by jowl on the nth call;
More intuition — “rhymed” with your near-virginity beneath disappearing into

A thrall’s molecular
Effects.

Outdoors a muted roll call gathers under bright archways,
A hazard to papery aircraft taking off.

We’ll be seen for sure...

Don’t know why we are in this automatic summation now or a few seconds from now after others’ surveillance but before I look you over, with only a few spy cams to snatch our poise inside hypotheses andvice versa... the constant hiding.

Beyond us, beyond them, 4% atoms, tiny
wriggling strings; hidden yet 22% of the tug —

dark and unknown predicates
fixated on procedure, a luscious, noiseless bond.

We can call it a bond
adding up the lead time, eyes

open, moving, waiting, meaning
taking rational effect?

You and I can’t attempt it without
touching on our dual roles as we reradiate consensus.

Language has a slight vegan sexuality appealing
On one side as noted by third parties

Who hang out in their unusual white corridors,
Suggesting we’re still trembling from the

Pinch off, just a short chopper ride
From the bank and trade. It’s language

With a so called blind glossary,
Investing in placidities.
Why does a face arrest? Our thoughts knit together
Like mica pile ups and our voices ricochet thru voicetracks.
We’re lobbing the acorns underbrush until we’re scooped
Up for holding our breath, bounced, kicked, ungloved by catalysts.

Weather permitting, there’s a method to share, a tummy poke. What do you say? Bonne balance, hey my — when you whisper this is both natural and secular.

Adorno says plain speech is fair game starting over (in the middle) but its sale and puts don’t count. (It’s always been technical.)

Surely there’s foundering beneath the social parasail of violence. Rules commit us. You grow accustomed, so to speak.

Yet that’s only one worst case — let me give you another. Everything noted, integrated, getting by on a riddle gauge, part of the solution looking up.

For all appearances nothing lurid was due at signing. Default 
Swaps in reconnaissance, binoculars at the barricades —  
 
You appear ok. Lie. This was about something else. Love of mine,     
 
Never weep with your pant legs up, banker,     
 
Since footwear permeates antinomy, buried love     
 
(blanched) showing movement hidden in you inside —      
 
Trolls have been taking icky notes while the weather cooperates,      
 
Where reputations precede character, tact of apprehension remains.      
 
Who will advocate for peace to empower mergers & exchange?    
For example. 

Cupid is a hired gun who swoons anywhere. Cupid’s id? It’s a violent,
smoking culture so we need straight talk.

It’s a gay culture so we need Cupid. We’ve been up
for two centuries fighting overseas.
Head-on war is a mistake (Diane di Prima).

Politics directs poetry to harden joy orbs.
A proposition (like this) felt anxious, I guess
...what? This early
When you got up your speech was
Vibrating w/ apnea, falling
Flattened onto note pads in succession zones.

You and what you say expire, all zonal gossip!
Thriftless speech for controlling anger, how your mind is read.

As assassins we do not impinge on your feeling fine /

10 gallons of the Hirsch, please,
W/ the canonical crescent tartelle, ah..
A pipeline of debits operates far across everyone’s casual monotones.
Everyone’s direction will shift as one’s nervous system distorts

Changes in emergent instruction over time..

‘We never make judgments about people we shoot.’

There were missing utterances for filling balloons
w/ the enormity of what got hooded — a dirge-y lexicon
that cannot be considered tenable
given cost averages — One’s intellect seeks damages
more than fair warning.

The good days are over. The bad days are over.
If we win there will be a fee.
This is mesh justice for our duality.

Flames stink up the place. Hay on fire. Let’s dump all this way in the rearview. We will be leaving footholds in town, doubles of blurs in dizzy luxury, punching thru colorless straw and spheres in embers.

Hay savors its just punishment! — regulatory propriety could care less, looking to nominal trivia — exactly what we recoil from. Who are these authorities summoning logical defenses to endorse their own Hail Mary passes and our first entertaining containment?

Literally nothing is granted, nowhere, no how.  
 
There’s a centerpiece to explain how flowers are cut as progressions. 
 
Iconoclasts count them in a series as foreground to falling cornices. 
 
They did (in plurals). 
 
Now months later, there’s good news 
Since you wait for a change of fortune, not for empowering others. 
Your freedom belongs hiding in plain sight, on the ground.
 
Fuller discourse can scar others, you see, yet you see nothing but simple, bare facts are slaughtered by pressing the remote.
 
Free, in subjective sensation.

Naval voices wake me up. 
It’s too embarrassing 

pulsing in a deep mirror, 
light rain to snow performing butoh. 

(Ethical and mammalian boundaries pertain.) 

I’ll put it this way and be done.
I misfiled my core principles, went 
for higher ones in baroque-neurotic dream. 

Any higher, they’re not talking ..
(there’s tighter discipline) 

Highly apéritif, 
morally camouflaged cold indirection. 
But our metabolism really took off, along 
with raw emotions from a huge palimpsest 
of no exposition, since 

it’s all of the above. 

A stab at tantrics, a High Service

Sung along both coasts:
Our people are what makes us / great.
Love and heritage go down together.

The last nonpoem eases the dress code, a bolo tie display on 2 thru 8
For a race of giants (giants are made up pieces of one another in other names).

Love came up short for a few and drove them to forgery. Then shatters.
The taking of whatever works to swat the hand that feeds them,

Sharpening endurance,
Risking focus.

A film maker, one poet (out of two), is turning to performance crafts, sits and lets you alternate looking at this person and thinking, has the floor moved?

It’s wild mist, without much shine and whose staying put is more to the point — dull mist, not gilded enough.

An accomplished film maker blots within mists. Thanks for his or her almost dry touches and for you, your weak calligraphy — placing personality ahead of nature and daydreaming. Literally.

You’re standing up, looking ok despite your sleep work-around to perfection. I’m by your side. On your side.
Mist trickles down rewriting chain letters you refuse to answer. Good for you.

Good for you!

Operetta’s focus keeps an eye out, part of the epistemic industry that can consider anonymous approximations in crazy-fancy contexts plunked out on a keyboard.

Moving forward I have all of an hour to believe in sweetness made into infamous exposure (in costume). Still, I cannot stress enough

your card was de-activated.
It’s a perilous ‘was’ — let me give you a way out.
Since there are multiple aims, capital will be re-bought, redefined,
irresistibly absorbed in sleights of hand. Meaning it,

if I voice a question mark at the end of feeling genreless, it becomes my pick-up line for the calmative afterlife.

I’m a member of the takeaway school.
Mean something, take it away...

Simple. & how my twin psyche writes more conscientiously
Touching on raw parts in this endearing translation.
In your memory, throwing kisses
We did it once in complete metonymy. Comeuppance bristled for
Symbolism weighed in

As a shortcut: Capture some future from past thinking & writing as if.

Midnight horror porn, cheesy parody paying homage to its only subject.

A nude means more when its head is chopped.

Pass the white gloves.
It’s amazing
It seems cuckoo

A little before four in the afternoon.

We blame trumpeting birds’ beaks

stemming the tide, ruining our rails.

Also our headboard with no utility, other hooks.

Sing: can we cut to the creation part?
A chorus is plural en scene where our fiction holds.
So if darkness “must take a wider horizon of use,” why not just be kind to the top actors?
Astronomical and infinitesimal sums, problems compelling our work that front-loads knowledge construction to reform quite a remote number of spaces and times, fed and oppressed by day, by night, off and on.

Opening bell, Ap 6, this year... The Dow soars on news the virus is slowing.
Freakonomics in a Trump-era pandemic, driving toward departure from what is present in the original meaning to experience.

It began as parallel ideas.
You were saying Harry Partch’s gadgets and impulse intersect
An immersive ocular apparatus, thumping
W/ the capacity to recognize infinite series
As a glow that’s cool, regular. Decoys,

Japanese cranes  

(Living somewhat left of Unitarian)..   

.. Impossible to separate churning out understatements from his performance — both amaze. Good pitch. So that’s how Partch and the landscape felt. Next, full fashion treasure advanced by a minimalist method, burning out your swing
Meeting half-pain in no way hapless, sensing no value contingent; partly insight, partly joy. 

There are a 100 butterflies out of sorts in what’s wrong watching even one or two spin like mediums,
happy in the dirt, re-engineering their variety and persistence.
The collapse of spinning it better is.. no, the aim changed while functions bounced.

*

We can build something better.
You can feel it drinking coffee from a can, its sticky metal heat, fun,
seething too, proportionate to the open space.
The smoke is rubbed, worn and you’re mortified by the ozone.
The whole firebox glow that yellow
wallpaper engages on. Yellow for pleasure
for the butterflies.

You’re welcome, April. Plugged, tall, slim,
Aggrieving.

We’re in public space, an elevator or the hallway. We think
Mining happy talk still has a more colossal future than trigonometry. Happiness has many floors
To appropriate then publish others’ ideas we began tinkering on.
Life wheels. We borrow the ephemeral camping saw and hood scoop as April questions
Conventions, boundaries, and syntax. Then April exits. Yay.

O Jesus 
— A breeze and severe honey glow   
crowning his young shoulders — groomed 
disgust in his walk, his mystic theater practice  
already modeled to lecture us, the radiant   
pull at his mom’s sleeve   
emptied of any given moment. Puissance of a sort, holy body of Christ.  
What Esau calls discourse through example. Later 
 
Even the unholy pitch in, bringing on what works mostly. Life is short and good grooming drives you all over. Recent example, no longer Christ’s victims, you and I grabbed the discursive moment as a ladder we shouldn’t overuse — 
A given moment to stare out the window, a lava lamp over our shoulders to herald the swindle in wind farming.

Our agents are crazy about the bigger paradigm of what’s to come

Leaving you as a health threat... For a reprieve,
Dead celebrities are a cemetery’s anchor tenants.
Thru their ongoing fame they bolster hasty promises of eternal life.

Yes or no, certainly. & all right.
A sunny, boyish grin [here] is remarkably ambitious
Winning the beginning, now smoldering.

“The float is radiant, jammed with radiant things.”
Back I said, a piece of undertaking advice.

Reputations precede character, tact of apprehension remains
Deferentially. Party masks are off the board, a precondition in reprieve.

Mists of time even the score (v mists). My blood sugar was aroused.
It was here a minute ago. * What if I am a drifter returning with this season of full enthusiasms, could you still ‘like’ me, could you choose ‘I liked it overall except for you?’

This cloaking device avoids detection. Slanting, lost, an hour later we’re beginning to wander over borders, since borders are still porous. Just look at this possessed adventure! I need some topper wipe.

You’re fluttering on me. Flickering,
And all this repetition is binary to binary autosuggestion. 
Smelling you in all your possible reassignments. 
 
— A rank in heaven!