New Poem

This poem features, language and logic and insanity in about equal measures. We drift through an unnamed location, picking up only scraps of a larger conversation, not sure exactly where we are, there is a feeling, a feeling of sadness, some loss, some half remembered conversation. Then we realize again that this is exactly the moment we have been working for so long.


Starting to stare, there is nothing (to eat)

Train moves, down the scree, moves pebbles,

To be clear, (but most of all, to be un)stricken

& having wallowed down, slept.

And sleeping dream,

Specifically, themes remind.

Your manuscript.

Came to me in the middle time, back in summer.

No no don’t go There ok.

Another story,

(So stoner total-I tarry.)


This series of interludes

And qualuudes have been equal in my mind.

There is no need to speak.

Finally, I have come

to full fruition of my madness.

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