Wednesday, April 30, 2014

    it's a very very average prison  //
  horrible looking things machines //
lit yellow-greens obeying  the
                        'code of bees'  //

Friday, April 18, 2014

it smells evening's oils,
  the dots and dashes of
        a soft
                 blue horse...


Tuesday, April 15, 2014

I know what waves are for
 these are waves at war.
I am a blinking yellow coil
 in the ship's machinery.
I know about machines
 they memorize and spit
                                         out themes.

Monday, April 14, 2014

       in such a way
   ten thousand sand eels
turn about

Friday, April 11, 2014

\\  someone left the gate open  //
           a little horse flew
       wildest urgent creature
\\ between the vault of my ribs //

Thursday, April 10, 2014

conspikuous phingering

  the root symptom
                                     I am not free!
  of fragmentalism
                                      I am not free!
  the opposition of
   wide green leaves
     and white-washed walls

Tuesday, April 8, 2014

Give me a tool,
Tell me about the land,
What will happen...
And, please, comfort me.

Carolina Wren
waking up
the tea kettle

Saturday, April 5, 2014


       but art is in jail

yes, but a man is tripping on
  his wife's can of peaches

      it's a thicket, Marilyn

Friday, April 4, 2014

the purse is a wild orange.
there are spinal taps and
battles in the mountains.
an organism approaches the
drying of stone cranes.