Friday, August 13, 2004

on top of these rated pronouncements lives a fluctuating nation. its trees resume mothering phrases while asking poetry to mend its fences. peerage in the east and peerage in the west.

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Thursday, August 12, 2004

The New Lump, same as The Old Lump. and parts fall onto a volcano, only to be disturbed. and the noise surrounding our interdiction crushes several present members of the community, local here-in-now. but we are arch, injunctive, and finally there is a dragon in the distance. could be one of those VIETNAMESE ones that prance into the dialogue. or one from the world under this continent, present in an eager age and we're fighting. what should be requited then? it may just be a mellow light from an alien rocketship, and talk comes cheap. you decide, who are paying dues. wind's coming stirred from the west.

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Wednesday, August 11, 2004

trade in your doctor, raise
the lump balloon, pull
funk from beans while
imbibing mean Iraqi, you're
into that very into, it's
less light than an angel but
quiddity needs a moment,
your suitcase fills Nepal, all
dynasties smell of
rubber, from the
grand elbow rooms
of Indochina, you
can't kid in threes but
bear the champion, we will
win this invisibility
fragrance, the grind
of this cabbage poetry
mound seems
plausible, come
hear nore
and decide yourself

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Tuesday, August 10, 2004

today's not monday or even delivering stern warnings. it's a letter to the throne, fuck the colonists, whose planet can this become? soggy letters go public, drain the economy and often mixes up the populace. were you in West Virginia to know? the sleep of changing, while numbers letter the sky. are you confused while trying to imnplement? sheer daylight, into night, and then a new day. we'll call it wednesday.

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Monday, August 09, 2004

I'm not the more murderous or considered, tho the darkness in evening out comes as a sport to tell. longing in a funny way reminds me of tremendous exemplars leading into mountains, where the cold duty of fine aliens constitutes a running program. I may dream and read again, but morning hasn't been invented. so such writing as begins, may just need to end now.

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