I got something the other day.
After a glass of x knows what
and four men had to haul the
logs out of the corner, we
all might say we got something—
But really, it was I, I got it.

It started when the king fell
over. “No way to play chess”
I said,
referring mostly to myself.
But I hadn’t pushed him
and indeed not [...]

Midnight lost its magic.
The parties decease without happiness
just Boredom.

A skinny, unwashed boy yells at
the wrong windows.

He’d serenade her if he
could find her.

Doesn’t matter that he can’t
since any other window’ll do

On the night before, I slept very little to ensure I’d sleep the next night. That next night held a flight–an entire night mixed up with invisible hands batting our poor vessel about the sky.
Piano sound carries itself
winking uponaround three flights of interwoven logs:
Trees petrified in
preservation of [...]

A cold polished stone
lolls on my tongue.
I curl the edges,
rolling the stone to the center
cradling it in a
sway of undulating
taste buds.

My tongue spoons
this sip of scotch,
rolling it
like a flaming
dollop of viscous honey,
down my throat–
yellow and round
an invisible note
of buoyant Bosch.

Neither young nor old,
as Hispanic melodies reverberate
from a temporary sunday’s
Colombie in the park,
A man and woman
South heading a little way. arms
Full of boxes (two each)
filled with
thick glass Clicks,
in lock step with
their side-by-side gait.

(Black pansies and rose begonias
rustle near my toes,
using their surrounding breath fronds
to [...]

Between bold last leaves
seeps the play of sun.

{-}

Afternoon autumn, still supporting
leaves: their greatest glory d’composition
I cast myself without self
between, on and through and so
all around.

Rhythmically, slowly (in innocence
of every good word
beginning with “b”)
Riding up–through,
the bicyclist:

“le merveilleux peuple”

Rhythmically repeating on the
rotation of a wheel. [...]

Grappelli is in a corner
of the apartment

his sound pervades the place,
though He evades it completely.

like he slipped in
when the curtains wavered forward
like his notes slip past
their green cloth corners.

–he’s in the room
I’m watching the curtain swing

some more.
Grapelli smiles a little with
fingerish ease.

the curtains role–
[...]

One day we walked
from our homes
and in our Terror
the Raw world
disjointed our knees.

Hands slipped from our wrists
attracted to radiance,
which is;
and blood, the faucet of is,
stopped
Itself, an evaporous
ink, dried, [...]

Great ivy of the whispering mother
woven into the coil of space
around a few buildings smoke fastened itself–
waiting for the disturbance of pedestrians.

Through its fibrous October
the sun commits
last night’s tides’
gifts leftnot, for anyone.
but take them as gifts

you have yourself, ego–permanent self
that cannot fade against
a beach’s unruliness.

reflecting
and
haling ex and in
the breadth and beginning of spoils,
ego
ticking off.

[...]

forever

that’s a beginning
where someone says
“do you remember that time,
when we?”

“you” in the sentence
always remembers.

air fills with chalk
explosions

.up months, foundation
strutted light
on the make for a mask.

For every skinned
on concrete
a
rose-cheap plastic
makes for mask
just meshed elsewhere.

Perfection asks.
-everything [...]

from an old creaking store-front
in a row of many others

each stocked with man, woman, candy, and woven or wooden crafts.

(of their own hands, probably)

with faces, eager but friendly
for seasonal sales and lugubrious
lingerers.

Back of each front, store
doors swing in for haste.
barterers’ shelves, sturdily-built
so that stores and supplies bemoan
their differences,
a cleaning bottle, damp [...]