Friday, September 05, 2003

probably colours and the trying
out of relevent passages, the reefs cold
but marginal as passing
by and into a strict
rendition and
pointed resurgence like
wave action
daylight breaks
somewhere else
the words have taken
their own course
subject is
until further
notice aliens read
between the
lines that
aren't visible just

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music went clatter bastion on a day like this. the steel swarm gave up, it's september 5, and peace rode to a scuttle and fest. loom sky was tearable, and rain was equal to diligence, by a fortress or a piano in the woods. mere description could lose out easily, for it was a day worth elegies. were you participating as well, in loges and extreme, while the sun proved a track and thickness left a sentence? our peers awake, suitably. a moraine serves scumble, but plush credence reckons mountain area, the full pay of trotting. how brisk could landscape insist, before an alien logic survives with throat and tongue, the mere event of words? a trailing of shadows and plan, such etudes as carry wander over doorway elevations and mountain strop. the work is hard, always, as we say more than ever. the blues are full of green, or vice versa.

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it was an
ability, that cut thru
a sentence
and Vietnam
was clear. the people
wormed thru
the syntax
that was avid
and bright
like the sad piano
hanging in the tree.
there was a
of fealty
over the impress,
and bombs
were gathered by the ton
to sign the document.
this was a trap
for other words
and a national
with empty.
square miles
with people, a
still life.

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Thursday, September 04, 2003

forth on the godly sea, oh
shit, the wonder of the
colour and
its benefit
factor, trope forever
and the word
reunion, wild
haymaker conclusion
and shadow box,
fighting sentences
to the end,
a shift
in praxis
till the aliens
give in:

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so swivelling mood in marshland, and precocious sea marsh with expectation. where you place your foot, a question begins. this isn't the strong land of debate, but the frailty of startled. and the stars themselves are silver things formed in drops of rain or dew, like forgetable trances. we offer faith in the homestead that doesn't quite float away. raging about the news that swamp gas from space has landed, ow! and the evening hesitation, when the sun drew a line and fell. we aren't so lonely here, but forgetting the trump that leads us thru.

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jetty was a time, and the water cold as grey can be. in between times, the lucky lurk of seaweed, tramps sport. your residual is my definition. the water is a crowd, and it cools to phosphoresence when we are ready. bundled life is equitable, parsecs from the start. there is only a rock to throw, a lofty hesitation in the arm release but days go by and into every night. and it is this edge, of all edges, and the rude Martian glow on certain nights to stress a fertile field. we've weaved with words and the aliens found out. poetry is a tremendous masque and dowsing, daunting problem in commodious night or thru the half baked day when the desert is a run. what cares allude in the softening, the stretch of death among children. how we fail is our story. the water is as cold as nigh. wind from the mountain turns the head. descriptive moment lays before us.

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Wednesday, September 03, 2003

so the fire sale went on,
yah, and times, floods,
precincts filled with delight (local
news) and then, of course,
but faltering, little boy
sick, hospital,
yah, the effort to open
a dialogue or constancy,
of guilt, tired, well you
know, and serious vacation,
turning a phrase over and
what's underneath, serial
meaning, topic
sentence and then
describing a moment
amidst many myriad
tho mellow, barnstorming
tributes and
vaunted excuses, till we
see the mean, chirp of
frogs and crickets
into autumn
then rule change,
punning on
autumn cagey need, dwelling
short sentences
and excuses, who are we
as we converse such
as this?
tools of the
trade, the maven

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a diet of bromides, a trickle down theory. the thrust of causation institutes another crush of affection, a patriotic wave at all the good things left. doctored institue is what we're looking at, divining certainties from the midst of mush. well, at least we've solidified our 'position', which is itself a preposterous position. the aliens are stylized when they hear of our affection for direct data and underlined passages of text. mountain groups are sent into a tailspin, which is really right for all. and vegetation browns in the harsh fencemaking of the sun's grasp. we're tired, we call out to the dire platitudes, and we need rest. the aliens are our scouts, after all, and so much here needs redemption. but can it be enough, when wednesday rolls around again, and the certain public flogs gelatinous poetry into the thinking membrane? as if! skylark in tow, the preamble bums a cigarette and tiortures the text for a minute before surrendering. so much meaning in so little space.

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a sky sort of green, let us say, the beginning of vitality. sure the eminent clouds are funk and spray, but honest day sports along. aliens of repute, from star clusters and assumption, bring a pax and paz, swift and deeming. we see punctuations slurring thru the action of night given over, and never wonder why the sky is black. it matters little, and elk roam into the range. antelope are answered with a swift white cloud that could hold terminal rain. the desert is delighted for moments at a time, while scattered townsfolk scuff along in the detail of dust. this is one beginning, a salient, a propelling gust that drives from the mountain in a jeep of any terrain. we like the idea, planted sanely in the lurch of this spell. what words will fill the moment left to us, as the shifty lyricism derives us to speak? are we looking for John Cage here? what of the effort to smooth death from the surface?. the aliens are always soft on instigation, having chummed around with cometary orbits and the bitter root of light. we can land in document, safe as you please, or rupture with the discussed fraction. are we all fractal at this late date? spent in the present text and context, there are further numbers for us to rehearse.

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Tuesday, September 02, 2003

painstaking inclusion in the word, far off. then the chance at lateral relief by way of what charm, the newest structure for the same old thing. in this vast political comfort zone, people remind each other of desperation, a picture we all carry. at night, something inexact seems plausible. sure, aliens are robust and ridiculous. who needs eyestalks and groping tentacles in this peaceful place? and thru what murk of star shit, just to reach this dead rock. are we wild in that scenario? suddenly the space station infers attack, out of mode, it's electric! we've seized the gunsel, torqued on trope, capture is imminent! and all goes into the books, dull refectories. no one's too busy to mind their own business, this attack is in the cards. the aliens are in the mouintains again, surveying the plump valley and all its grit. people will step close at times, then fuck it: too much detail. and the machine made government pushes past.

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Monday, September 01, 2003

Tropic of Jab 

stop suddenly, for it is renaissance music, a trick thru the air. the mountain is not changed but a pause, letter in the sky. wordless but instinct, it's all common. people tell of moments, the rippling matter upon their mind's water. then all gathers in a stiff venture, a sentence or two. it swells to reasonable or more than merry. we're equal to certain signs, seemingly.

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today, a monday stream, bends around a post. today a possible rhyme for tending, shadowy farms by rivers. rivers cool landscape while economists stay home thinking. what's the rush towards the door when rain is almost overhead? rain is stemware for the fine dinner ahead. rain is an ache. powerful assertions roll from the mountain at night, sturdy locks and sturdy doorways. treasure troves approve human resource, the imagination to dig out condition. spoonlike aliens seem apt. a process of defining language with language, while running some unspecified race. creep to the edge of the cave, friends.

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Sunday, August 31, 2003

final sparing chopped redemption for half the hale and whittled to a rocket that once was in that spending of space and now data was used to it. frequently changes to a purchase order, which reflects daytime means and ways of drill into mountainside, in which so much of value awaits. and that orb of currency hovers above the setting price, above that yellow special, and fully deserves designation, some lasting compartment to fight for. special ways for us all, in the molten tinny tune and reflex marvel of the same thing over and over, again. news of a better way, oiled with the republic's own grease, and says things just like you and me. saving grace, it was a merriment in the end.

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in this ocular present, hope breaks the church for forage. clouds fluff the pillows of the sails. furtive testimony in 'another' language puts forth something seriously remade. the sun shines TOO. smooth pace. frankly stood in rime for a curency space, a tempo idiom remark. and there were infolds and toning, until it lasted half a minute. more reliance on time as a matter, age of anxiety. too much constancy in the same place. deft facts completed in array, to the dismay of those space people we have met. so much to renounce with a co-production. so much lounge among language.

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trend initiation fooled round in the stream and left something, called a lot of things but never stayed put. put into gear in an expansive mood, nature of beast, but when darkness fell surprised by the news. news fell from the sky in literal doses of information. the mountain was cool, sure. too sure and people started nervous. started look and finally, there were results. the event was taming of the land, and the waters, and the legs and arms between. it was oil, and Idi Amin, and something standing for something else. it's so basic, commodious, and pictured with desert for effect. the desert itself isn't anyone important. importance isn't anyone. Ben Affleck drives into town most notable, bending steel with his bare eyes and nose and mouth. and bending still, along logical blessing, into newsfront, where death is an important adjunct to other lessons. a nation stuffs itself with pieces of flint, which could be used to bring sparks, or scrape documentation onto earthen walls. then the news is 'good', someone said. yes, it is planted, was the expert reply. people were words long ago, and remain in diction forever.

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[translated from piano dropped lightly in the rain]--the nether stone was held so hard, so heavy in lifting to the top of aint indeed inspected. time to look again, in the speed frequency, to tell time. looks hard to beat, suddenly piano on horizon. on it falls in river to come. inside the document the third word falls away. there never was a third word, and going on. in time the freaks all choose their service. buttressing engagement in the sharp reply to the dichotomy shift. a fallen ground swell speaks of public funds. the funds are 'there'. a navigation postures on a minute and time stoops over the body. the point comes to, again. an ended sentence stands there, situational ethics or the like. someone reads aloud or loosely, whichever is first. thirst, that is, begins with one word, read carefully. what can be more alien?

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