1. Let’s kiss our lips to (each other’s) one another’s lips and kiss.
  2. In the wind the barely flowers go in and out of the light.
  3. On my hand I can see the sun moving and there is the little bit of wind that is blowing, but I am sleeping.
  4. In bed getting sleep from you; the wind pushes dry leaves past my window, whispering you on every branch in my yard.
  5. Wind moved through tall trees and all along long streets.
  6. He wears his arms like a coat.
  7. In Trinidad my Paul Reubens become.
  8. Strophe vernal thus is…low repose awe slay poems feet.
  9. Find your clothes and pull a shirt over a skirt.
  10. Our nearing this and sudden kiss is.
  11. Boughs bend when wind moves through tree’s leaves.
  12. I can put something else here and it will look like me.
  13. I am not what I thought of, as me now, at all.
  14. I have ended in your hands honestly.
  15. It is moving its dry feet against the floor.
  16. Her mother brought her, up from the sea like a treasure, a flawed pearl in her hand.
  17. You make me feel like I am on drugs.
  18. I wish I could record with my eye.
  19. All my sons are one.
  20. Jesus was crucified on the leaves of the dogwood tree and planted like a flag in the ground.
  21. A girl leaned against me.
  22. A couch is not a work of art, but what if I turned that couch upside down?
  23. This sentence is an extension of my hand and a replica of my thought, but it is not (a pipe) my thought or my extended hand.
  24. I believe in a God that doesn’t exist.
  25. Fry a frog in a fish pan.
  26. Here is my ear.
  27. The candle is blown out by someone walking in.
  28. And now the edge of my hand is on which the wind is blowing.
  29. When I am done with the outside I will be included indoors.
  30. It all started; wait, when the phone stopped ringing.
  31. I think that if you look hard enough, she was saying, you will see that it is a moth.
  32. Our plunged figures obscured in depth.
  33. Two children in our playing swamp.
  34. I am standing near you, with the ash colored clouds of November’s beginning sky, almost.
  35. After I am done sleeping I think about sleeping in a different place this time.
  36. Let’s start from here, where the morning is, so we will finish in the evening light.
  37. Whether however it works out it is and whether however it is worked out too.
  38. I want to write a simple sentence.
  39. How we watched the shadows stretch out and disappear.
  40. The milk blue sky was troubled.
  41. I do not have to speak to make love grow bitter grapes, my wine is cheap.
  42. You are confusing opinion with criticism.
  43. Of what is it composed of?
  44. He put the stairs in your head.
  45. Maybe I wanted to push you across the page with the edge of my pen and pull you (by the hand) from a poem like (a cave) a resurrection or maybe I chased you across the page at all or at all; maybe I caused you.
  46. The thing you’re not considering is considering you.
  47. The evening sky is drawn from the dawn like a blade.
  48. I pieced together her puzzled look.
  49. I know where to go to ask for direction.
  50. Here’s what you’re not listening too: shh, the wind sounds like the sea.
  51. Suppose that you are comfortable in your chair and from your hand (like that) you have created a bird, a series of birds; each (poem) unfolding differently in front of you.
  52. I am involved with the candle in front of me and the inky glass of wine that holds me to the thickened room.
  53. We dipped handfuls of bread into deep bowls of olive oil and brought them into our gathering mouths.
  54. This morning (I was awake) I woke up.
  55. (Paul) Joey and Toby or Paul (Joey) and Toby or (Toby) Paul and Joey (Chris).
  56. Blip blip blurp blurp mow wom.
  57. I once gave a painting to the night.
  58. I forgive you.
  59. She (I say she, but she was old) was holding a feather above my head and, I swear, it was like I was growing wings because all I could think about was trees.
  60. It isn’t necessarily me is it?
  61. I am offering a piece of me to your liking.
  62. A rock is not so much a rock until it is placed inside a refrigerator.
  63. Meg White lays down the paper that Jack White is writing on.
  64. I don’t want you to see the truth in any of this.
  65. When the light against my window moves the shadows are pulled in and out of the room.
  66. You are standing on my head.
  67. I think that they are trees.
  68. And the violin is left in the air.
  69. It uses its tongue to lift the water (like that) to its mouth.
  70. I come to the city and press my hand to its high walls.
  71. She stumbles through the night and reaches for me in bed.
  72. Whose hand is it that rubs my cheek when I am crying?
  73. Am I a part of the landscape or am I the landscape?
  74. I have gone outside myself to come to you.
  75. There is nothing left.
  76. I am impressed today with the sudden way the rain is and the forgotten way the sun is not.
  77. The only thing good about people is the way they taste.
  78. I am in a window of windows.
  79. On all my petaled self is throned.
  80. What needing have their longing gave?
  81. She throws her wings against me and I am cradled in kissing.
  82. A joy divided mind.
  83. My Eden after birth.
  84. Where are we now going?
  85. Up to us.
  86. Which is rain and isn’t?
  87. And now your arms lifting through every room in our house and I am waiting for you to sing.
  88. The very thought of you lifts me from chairs and moves me through living rooms.
  89. Kinds of light you watch go out.
  90. And now in all rooms our shadows fall.
  91. A kissed and wounded hand.
  92. Now sudden evenings or.
  93. What throws us now our memories more.
  94. The morning isn’t anymore.
  95. A found and worried look.
  96. When all our hearts are continued.
  97. I moved through meanings leaving and again and and again and.
  98. The fan is on.
  99. And no lights on anywhere; see?
  100. But where were we?
  101. In all the windowed room is floor.
  102. A good light for drawing swords.
  103. Each one eats one.
  104. A kind of lean too.
  105. Today a moon.
  106. It isn’t anymore moved.
  107. I am before you, brought about in always ending leaves.
  108. A house and all its feathered lettings.
  109. Almost every space is turned to page.
  110. In all our others go in and out of their living so.
  111. There are too many ghosts in this house to get too lonely.
  112. A nearing you to me is coming.
  113. The light left is barely enough to move.
  114. When the windowed light is in then the puddle rain falls.
  115. But it stopped moving.
  116. The enragement of day dawn morning come.
  117. He is walking very slowly through the room.
  118. Almost every tree contains a leaf.
  119. There is a light on above the sink.
  120. The vast unchanging weight of evening’s long edge leaning into the broken dawn.
  121. My mother’s voice still pianoed lightly near me heavy in the black silence that engulfed us.
  122. Please consider for your publication these few if any poems.
  123. A changing subject is pushed between us.
  124. A soul is the only thing I can’t imagine having.
  125. It isn’t evening’s sudden moon which is.
  126. A book is coming to a close.
  127. This evening’s other is only other or any.
  128. An empty room inside the drawn shade of a body’s open door.
  129. She is all around me full yet on others are turning circles whole rooms moving light.
  130. My heartfelt lovely other is another somewhere all together going.
  131. Christy is dancing and all the lights are off except the one above Kenny’s head.
  132. I am split down the middle.
  133. I am part of your heart that is a tower in early evenings.
  134. I am feeling better about myself.
  135. The slow tone until someone hears.
  136. Oh god aren’t we and oh god aren’t we and oh god aren’t what?
  137. Genius is creativity plus knowledge.
  138. Theres all things else.
  139. Hand in hand the end of night is mourning.
  140. Her whole body a night out.
  141. Christy’s arms are full of shadows, a room without walls.
  142. Miranda Miranda the bright sun, Miranda the bright sun.
  143. A killed cat belongs to ditch.
  144. Tonight this turning hand over in candle flame.
  145. You will bump your head on a roby hallucination.
  146. Around the evening’s room our open hearts are dancing.
  147. And then I was the corners of things.
  148. I spin a top and hope for the best.
  149. A window pulls me into the room.
  150. The new trees are.
  151. A framed painting’s more.
  152. Amanda’s thought is ghost.
  153. A dead body of many if any rooms.
  154. Today no clouds but one.
  155. A house full of walls still moves when the wind blows.
  156. How crisp the weird moon can sometimes seem.
  157. What sometimes isn’t is and what sometimes is isn’t.
  158. What have we forgotten?
  159. Now what moon there is is nothing.
  160. A building heart goes sleeping by.
  161. A distant kind of moving moon.
  162. A hollow house is without walls.
  163. And all a thinning smile is.
  164. And all a house is full of halls.
  165. A nearing love is made of rooms.
  166. Then finding heart through needing kiss.
  167. A folding bird is trapped in the room.
  168. The light is out above the stove.
  169. My study of birds is lost.
  170. And it is emptied of you now.
  171. Its moored moon down its long side.
  172. We are turned against going back.
  173. From where I am standing the world is flat.
  174. No nothing else will ever do.
  175. See how the light changes.
  176. A place to sleep is more than a bed.
  177. My other half is mostly heart.
  178. Our new house undertones the trees leaves in lawn alone.
  179. The blood comes back when it rains.
  180. A soft sack that stitches need to air through which are falling apples there.
  181. I am going to bed once and for all.
  182. I can’t wait to give up the ghost.
  183. I am not using my arms as pillows to night.
  184. A rabbit’s coat is a collection of hairs.
  185. When wind leans the turning trees, in light, move through them.
  186. Though the matter is for the po’lease I feel I need to know.
  187. Expect to type then tie a type of hair there.
  188. Are trees leaving?
  189. This visit moving toward me.
  190. How leaves of grass grew.
  191. Some far off gray thunder moves.
  192. Like the rain against the windows does.
  193. I am from the past and you are from the future.
  194. There’s a window to the room I am in.
  195. We are not moving now.

    • Ra Ra Salamander
    • August 24th, 2010

    A changing subject is pushed between us.

    I love em! No sly tricks, be looking at one thing and then another’s presented to be yet something More of the prior, yet new – no impossibilities tho they arrive, tricks, impossibilities, but w/ this strange elusiveness like smoke brushed off the tips of yr fingers, into some natural accord

    way on
    out there.

    And Vague, nope, but such a tight rope way or potential to go there, into vagueness, but no, they are Safe. And by safe I think not like a laying claim to any imaginative gift, no plot of gated land, no shirking off tho again it arrives but How. Make me smile, laugh, wonder – a refuge but moreso a sanctuary, a place far away from all that it is within, at times suddenly and strangely grown close and w/ the substance of its own realm.

    A soul is the only thing I can’t imagine having.

    So again as w/ yr stuff I love how it feels as if for Kicks, Enjoyment, Exploration, no mussed up message hampered and struggling to get across – moments. Simple, not all so difficult to get to

    at all, easily picked up.

    I hear an idea that the human mind cannot cannot comprehend the word no, or any negative like all the ‘nots’ I’ve spliced in above. Like, ‘stop peeing on neptune’s leg,’ you get an instant affirmation, an IMAGE of neptune’s stone leg, and yr penis pissing on it.

    The child’s happy predicament are these,

    I Thank ye for guiding me here, I will be back

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