Unknown

Unknown

Condition Interruptus

Falls like snow on the silent evening home where when

Faced with the view of all possible actions we avert our eyes or

do not choose an expression to read in

all that misspent money or retrospect chose not

choice with our proximity constraint now broken

remains our interruption

pulled for scrap

value now highlighted now thrust

into away the center from stage

strange grammar

the days feeling the

height of falling the land appears just the best AbEx you ever saw

but it tells of none smaller

material

the material of your day s was how and

the refractions of light inside these walls of

falling            from

higher than the birds to land soft in

this breast on this day

 “I have to get out of this”

the result not conclusion

sending it back out in refractions

(never) changes

it self is under where the action

is not sleeping but not moving being

but not opens to

gather the strands

yanking them from the throat

down to the guts

‘it’ becomes relationship and ‘we’

becomes just becomes

some becalmed story

put to sleep

never more lovely than

more lonely

then more lovely

than

material

material generating generating material couture

empirical excise cannot fight

techno-gig

runs without thinking

come on un

zip no lip

synching professionalism and pomp

other p words fit

my platform haven’t you noticed

we’re absolutely in it there’s no

question the man sweetie wasn’t

trying to scar you drunk

he's just and doesn’t know

this child is over

there by the pile of hammers Daddy

shouldn’t yell so maybe

 that’s not true

You make words with

your big hammer:

Human services human. Etc.

Over and again story

of my life mine

the be/st  (a)

       lets do property hop

        a train lets you go

        vroom 

I n t e r r o g a t i o n

smoke scrambled a picture ascension hung over the line between new form and notes a not sufficiently developed distanced ironic mysticism this theory is a toy-child whose body isn’t even anymore people want pizzazz and pizza want to read with a drunk on a tear slips down the face of the statue of nobody doing the busy busy doing the popular activity hereby reproached simply by mention what the intention are you thinking you think you are writing

you look off into the sky while typing the words is there any beer in the fridge for a potbellied narcissist who sweats pages of proto-narration congealed into this gloop of a sauce but a casserole won’t wait just serve it

that’s your pitch whose talking stop butting in that’s final she’s walking fuck this fuck that revenge must be hot you have to get revenge fresh from the market that morning

now we can’t get back in the garden of forking paths the walls are made of fog the rocket ship made of logs somewhere somebody please she can’t reach her arms are that small and then we abandoned the she voice to find animals in the sky very worthwhile and logical they make a lot of a sense totally whose brain said that to a dog and a fly at the same time both replied you’ve got to be kidding but they rsvp’d regardless sometimes you have to play the game SHE was in the broom closet drunk on vitamin water and you were enchanting in your hoop skirt