Saturday, November 15, 2003

Gong Smith 

favourite attempt cycle in reverse order,
bobbing semblance after myriad rain,
closed bunk heist,
effective remedial dear drops,
collective monster party,
batch tapestry and pissoir finding,
alluvial dreadnaught compote,
slur dread,
eek frequency,
deleterious odd lot program,
smoothie sequel,
alien cardinal,
smother choice,
ward fencing,
amplitude going,
yardbird hastening,
jump cod,
picture label church,
alien barn freeze,
endless math buzz,
skill war session,
chimp change

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your friends could find you, the last sentence possible. while the thread unravels, as a portent for better fare, the years eat everything with a twist. in scanning the dialogue, triggers are assuaged. the manner of practice, a fest of scuttled detail to be fulfilled with a period at the end. we end saying what the lurking presence is behind the backdoor near the grill. what's the last of every first thing, thirst in the pictrure and the devious warrant settled for a portion of the national interest. as if dreams were murder and this is a patient love that thrives. as if is the detail run thru the mill, mill being a patch on what Hart Crane said once. all gets used in a systematic vocabulary. the very edges of fighting thru have crud on them. workers tire as they cite their favourite attempts. space seems excessive. the aliens cannot even fill it.

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Friday, November 14, 2003

insert rich kid here 

dim in tray, upon divan whereat, thunderstruck and Angus Young, now we are kids:

playground dynamite, the people of the various, tune smith, tune everyone, crawl space:

rabid eye movement, screen defers, Angus Young as train:

inexacto knife and once my pard, we thrummed the pages, strum whatever leftover, Angus Young is town:

redial imagination, consider links, Angus Young on Wall Street as unwilling pirate preparation:

the train hits the station, smack dawn:

clamp factory, rhythm of speech, a Picasso picture at full tilt, Angus Young in space:

inner space, where there's room:

Angus Young once a perception, once a town:

king or queen of 'it': when you franchise::


worthy hood::::

sports logic and in detriment town:::::

Angus Young at a beat, timely meat::::::

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: again ;;;;;;;;

going gong Angus Young:


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what is Negroponte in English? 

rocket correction of medium, deliver point of sales to the fight, where seasoned veterans explain the next turn of events. at approximately death a something something comes clear. it was these, and we are there. we sent a special rocket express, filled words with meaning that swells intent. the best is better than nothing, everything a name brand. escape changes barnyards and the excused coastal extreme. touched by the lucky lap of water, sent to say so. speed kills almost anything, a rush into Cambodia. a rush into Iraq, my friends were dying to see. a rap about victims, the close, the torn, the sport, the need, the sentence filled by might. might we as they, under suspicion and the globe, but the firm factory poem sent from making it to the top. top that cartoon tincture, as creme de la creamed. best you could do? feed patience into Nepal, secretly. feed death as a vote. vote jungle. vote on top of happy, next to fall apart, next to near happy. rocket connection of alien outermost, exhaust the patience of limit.

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a special freak named moon bending my underwear,
loose posture of scram bub this is my street,
date of Ron,
closure rental for indeed that hurts,
spied cloth without intent,
chirp reference indignity WHILE ON THE PHONE,
dam toilet,
space heater invention of mad,
alien encounter with alien alien encounters,
unquelled snood reference,
word luck spell tending,
reference to reference feature,
chump change for poetry day,
modest little murder or voter registration war

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Thursday, November 13, 2003

small dots on large 

a generation of alien responses,
a last people incriminated while dim tho proverbially rangy,
spot cleaned attic state (that is, a grove full of aspersions),
wild Picasso attributes cool breeze to fierce competitive nature,
calamitous posture while deciding on endpapers for the next one,

positions are plane, planets, plummet, worth tenets and scrape and feed and guff, more guff than presence, until rate of restraint hails the execution of certain known while reaping

not again, the poise of sure I am, the skid and proof, reeling to relax, for friends are dictations, rust on the reverend, field smudges proposing dynasty issues, whole seasons of elbows and magnified planets, even a deliberate moon over a windy condition, a fret of bunting in the wind though not so near the colliding armies who have only so much human in the walking, stretch out in desert to pretend the aliens are dark, when only light penetrates distance, humans certainly cannot

a bolt or vaguely met upon the highway, toward treasure and the reupping segue that contributes to political incest, the nature of who the fuck is what when we decide on patents, the soon more than ever Iraq or cut from the same cloth minimizing scent of damn it or at least good night Irene, the Beatles are dead, the Rolling Stones are dead, James Brown is dead and they say Billie Holiday or a lsit to grill and anyone can say that flouncy dance patience to sit thru since it has been advertised, or whatever one wants to discuss over slightly bombed papers, nothing neatly apparent but names turned into textual people, ears of victims strung together and worn around the neck says here's an age old way of looking

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it was all right 

genius is a once word. people transformed into words written long ago, John Adams as participant while we wait for Jefferson to appear. terrible planning and George Bush, the native bank. some headline bespeaks modern convenience, and it loves language to death. that death will be picture slightly and solely, as cushion for deeper response. that something is while isn't, just then the door opens. an alien or a remark, and all changes. the narrative faction needs a line to hold. it is all of us, trumping sentences then fading. later generations will need more steel, an industry of making dew. smoothly mist gathers in the hollows, tide of morning and too bad for the loss of fill in the blank. it was a cold morning and strict with ill ease. we ride the car into the hills.

today a portal but then it stays. there's a going placed amidst each static close. firm words once, in a dim long ago. in the prop of pasturage, where cows sulk for anything, we drive our bargain. landing is a skill.

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Wednesday, November 12, 2003

The Post 

something groaned
and brilliance lost,
jet factor
over terrible containment,
featureless by product
and strong mention
offering coasts and
liquid preparing

a jones that
steals a boy
or father or
let out the fracture
with precise
detail formed from
and trouble with
devil news

escutheon talk
or unravelling spring
toward a pose
freer than post
more ridiculous
than temper
and a war zone
of immaculate
concentrated in
trek across the

only so far or fair
while a probable
mosey seems

language hasn't a
foreign particle left
only aliens
would see that

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Tuesday, November 11, 2003

muffed planet but well, dimes are
everywhere, and in a sense
there are more dimes, more than
people, plus originals
and their plans, all worth the invention of
dimes if not the land upon which
dimes are smelt, the land of diving and soon
off the coast, also a land in which
tropical rain happens to land
in dulcet crane loads, dropped with
a scale of velocity so much heavier
than inner peace, a conviction that
dates are for children, time sticks
to things, once is a determination
of Republican idiots, crises are
more than lame but less than food,
yeah we go on with a distinction
process, querying this and that
and faking ability, when the aliens
land again, they'll know
all about us

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almost bayed 

forgetful moons over it, the place, the portion left, the
dialogue with homing, stored fully, closing space, the endearment
and detail, times are missile, would the curve invite? time splayed
out upon it, arrested as scope forgets, as mind forgets
and all the folk, the loosened then are off, the stupid collect and
jury slips in degree, there is no peace in the falling, the moon congeals
factually, forgetful dims on the motion of stern
beaker of beer, the horizon of nature, hovering
still, practice in kind while sparkle of empty,
while forgetful, the home has its measure and telling, in
beat and broken fall, more lifted as becoming, slept
until dawn

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Monday, November 10, 2003

sprung each citizens
right thru the
damp means
accrued lower branch
champion pinning
circular cult of
trapdoor happening

mush missile
flow thru
dependable augury
over fire

the radiant
eager mood
slopes into
fire food
meant to bring
sameness monger

the heaped beat
expressive daubing
flap of poetry
piled in between

there's a guy in the trunk no kidding

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slack mice in the cabinet making,
choice vent of weird wire goes ultimate toast,
choppy seasonal fare loops around the played out,
dulcimer control sips snood water from the Pleistocene running,
mystic stick figures mellow in clusters of fuck you,
chintz zings them with knowledge bred of hemispherical locks,
news chains strand nettling barn door rubbed cleaning solutions,
champion piss water stays the turgid mutter fraught with boon companion documentation,
yogurt credibility realigns measure along sanity prism smooth bear traditions,
knock on rug treason mocks slog body temperature raid.

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Sunday, November 09, 2003

here's as much as clearing, said the guy, walking in from rancid elements. and the woman, structure poses questions. and the boy or girl, each a pellet firmed in logic, crusted, and spellbound. look, ratio of moonbeam and tripe, looser language crouch. look too: elbow room for train time. and look, it's glop on the foot of the statue to anything. and look further, but by no means the word. and the rocket, in landing, seems knowing. this is impossible, says someone in back. up front, the show is glorious. here's another plain sandwich, someone groans. and here's a deadbeat mark on my anything. the crowd grows torment, but it's only a crowd. here's the beat in the story about each. bull your way thru, perhaps.

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thunder underwater. scales of detrimental iron work, the skids made for all. all civilization looks askance at various shit, and arrange documents accordingly. 'we're in this together.' later generations certainly will. they know QWERTY like definite, like the earth and dew, like who is the frost dying on, like charmed fragment vagrant stop, like these stern measures, like haha intent, like cheers on skids, like ramming in, like stoop, like candid as a cage, like wrap, like stone over ocean, like near rain sequence, like death or change or daily trouble, like where is the fire man? like


like seminal,
like better than heavy,
like school modest,
like chopping motion,
like spell,
like minded,
like dirt:

arrivistes on every plane in

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sun as late as score points. trouble in Mexico, Philippines, elsewhere marked. transitions galore, uniting details who march. friction turns the word. people outside of heroes rely in an enumeration of vital plastic neatness. driven to traction, to the field of bent load, they go and: here's a telltale:

the saucer lands and Greeby, toasted, scowls at the backwater. people in trucks and cars, yawning. a warzone is history when you can see such special work. the people talk. Greeby knocks back a moment, then scowls more. this is the history lament, a truck back to the beginning. at the beginning, holy hell of a sun past. wars are special in the brink. nicely, nice things to say. brought into stone came and went. the people want to eat at Red Lobster, drink coffee or blight. not a charm remains, after taxes.

then inattention as an issue. are you really President Bush, Greeby asks, and all that means?

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