ID entity



 shut up faces of places we go we are tired of trying to board my presence we don’t mention you crying you envy that edge for to keep it from coming to bear on the matter the pressure disaster swelling above the crowd the swelling crowd bearing on their hands a hard rhetoric a cask draped in the black banner provided its note through the new tone mounted in fear pressing down harder trying to fit the lips of the process over the sex of the concept how irresponsive regardless heartless wish it had never started.



WEnare the face of places, tired we flip through the catalogue of instances try and find an situation that will fiT the mood Fit to feed computing machine bleep blop a punchcard pops out your mouth the langage of pressure the invisible presence a-a cream IN visible creams hard bearing there where they’re revolving in the center where all the threads are blended the crowd gathered Under the grey half dome Under the giant tRemors begin irRepresSible not thoughtS exactly an image you can Run with - why has the crowd gathered

                        They / upset / something (are, about)

       - Why has the helicopter / (arrived)

Private security

In one of these buildings perhaps in a suit e
The target trembling / (hiding) a function
ary ultimately a chain of puppets; )
that is what  one pulls back
                                      the curtain  reveal a tower high as justice
all types / motion / happening (of, are) helicopters garner attention with their roar the little droplets
glisten
pouring from their bellies, look see the muzzles poking out
the sides gleam like camera lenses they are ready to take pictures

                        The crowd is passing a small box
            around in pah there upstretched hands s a picture on the box, but we can’t make it out. Goodbye.

New Poem


Associate



Stoners and welders burn through the pot black space a light left slug trails? It gets under your pants. It burns. The form of the face hidden in the open sex impact we feel land we flee tour-selves.

We must have got lost, this place is not where we left. Everything is bigger or smaller than it was. Ratio between the now-size and the past-size:  adjustable relation. As we ration the memory of our lovers gaze breaks in the face of (this) gathering mass hot like melted iron (abrupt redaction).