Statement of purpose — 

Just because we attribute work to personality doesn’t mean I’m not a brute with a hammer in my hand. My nailing us together takes a moment of your life.

Whatever takes substance and breadth, I’m not doing it!

— Dec 2008
A minute or more from

Each year corrupts the ultra-field, stream, even slang
On the take; that aside, we’ll stick to literal cologne trails. Be funny and comfortable is one.

The lighter second is also literal, has more or less fun. Insert / handkerchief.
Shave twice a week. Does your dad look happy never to hear of thee again?

What can we do without sex and culture, genius?

Last, best, final. I wanted to ask you about immaculate being and going out. / According to slung
Allegory, it’s called Taking Their Place.


A hobby becomes the color of dreams, addiction.
Does it hold the same seasonal affect?
I know what I need, blindfolded.
Task at hand, to load myself into the cannon.
Roadkill is on the menu. Call:

On second thought, I feel great. Everything I sign for is effortless (thx to Yau) and I’ve got a breezy fan base. They get it. You alienate everyone and your writing rubs us wrong. You’re depressing the list.


Everly Brothers playing until it’s worked up to a crisis, its own category.
Irony-sincerity voted best….

There’s nothing wrong with commitment. I am committed.

I know where I am going

Gawky, rattling my own cage.

I know where the caged bird sings.

I shop in Brooklyn, RI.

Shy of seduction

I worry about nonacademic friends and family.

Like Clint Eastwood I was shifty.

Once. What was that about?


Concept this.

Your life is the intervals it contains minus your presence.


Which is a way of drawing.

You’re smug and cute,
a braid of welts around your neck.

Taking out details is tele
-genic hanging w/ you — so here — a polite form of the welt-
in-the-universe, comic beaker installed, a singing gas:

Storylines, battle scars, thrills, lobster, not crayfish, etc.
(dogs, tenebrae, & aimless sky conditions that surround our absorbing Tums)
to adapt under-the-tongue compliments for insurgents to bind heartache.

I’ve just noticed you haven’t said anything, Gabby.
Let’s rewrite “Biotherm.” Make it count.
In this I fear sarcasm.

So I urge the tobacco board (I’m so bad at focusing) ...
That’s how to hang names until they won’t balance.
We stumbled upon a larger issue. “Thinking about it,” laughing again.


Bernie Sanders’ platform: To vote is an act of federalism.

Voices in our heads are paranormal. How far is it to the casino?

There is a civilizing process to space

entered into by spotting it first.

Before the kill, yoga’s fantastic. You complain I’m brusque. It’s urgent.

Social justice is in a pickle. Who isn’t?

Let’s say you’re a man in your teens — that’s how it seems. Also, you were a near-death nut, now coming back to life. You say you are a woman and you saw strangers, that is, the appearance of strangers that fades away, persuading you to give up the life form of intellectual exchange..

It’s for good reason there’s oblong smoke.

You read in the report one investor came to deny he forgot he saw angels be strangers glancing back

as though you never knew the ‘aggressively disposed of’ on a first-name basis or you forgot the name of your buyers who were reluctant to pay.

The new world has been well-formed,
bike paths that never give / anything
blowing away ambience, beautifully made.

The pattern is breaking.
The polls are now tightening.

Your proof is the topic sunburn that we can take indoors to paraphrase without experience.

Even interrupted our conversation never ends —

You’ll be taken up on your offer.


Overheard on the walk from Lamont to Weidner..

A tremolo — we just don’t know —

could (& will) fill the ground trailing off within cogent discourse in a language without context. It follows thus : Impulses to conceptualize or collectivize contexts are fabulously auteur-like;

sentimental to the core, even if in fact especially if sample texts (such as poetic treatments, meta-essays) argue on the surface against individuation & sentiment. This is self sentiment affecting triumph.

The war rooms (ivory/media towers) in times of blanket authority — assumed — instantiate slaughter of memory & varietals of other texts, schematic petals, stems from where the other goes after s/he drops a thread.


The spring world became vegetables overnight, one or both aver.
Dear mood product injectors, dear United Nations and Plaza, dear darkness in the air.
For all plain speech gets us, dual multiverses judge us, them / anyhow —
each with our own shoes, lucent gray
with a pebble inside, each unrestrained giving away
the one day of all days
for others in either multiverse, which looks impressive now.
P.S. The seasons like before are morally exigent, shivering in a synthetic valence, coming back, never.


On the first anniversary of their taking charge, do Emanuel and Obama maintain persuasion, logical reasoning, and measured, cool demeanor prevail over those who resist them? If so, they are by now both certifiably bonkers. The name of the domain is politics. That calls for skills in theater, sleight of hand, good posture, Simon-says-simple, conditioned rhetoric. If what’s behind these skills is progressive policy, along with personable qualities and strategic intellectual constructs, there is potential for leadership. So far, with regard to Obama & Co., the jurist in me is still out. 

Back to Pynchon.

— Jan. 2010

The genre is, I like gay art. I know nothing about it.

Voices, say, personalities, like voices, are lent us. It’s directional, a voice in the workplace
(seaside, e.g.). Along the marsh coast distant particles of sun reverse presumptions of innocent human form, up to the bridge and lattice.

All around the sounds you hear you’ll find warmth. Live, charged, brilliant to the shore eye.

An obsession invades a host work and the life, like the family and fellow nationals you had.
Four husbands.

Not bad. Ok. Bye.


It was great being with you.
Or was it just me?

Bursting out of your head while you hike thru grasses: All this acreage owned by prosaic dabblers, a-theoretical factual folk. Broken, misunderstood.

It’s different evening on and a child on fire hits back.

Teamwork. Again, our people are what make us great.

And if that’s everything for now, we’ll switch to metonymy. Fresh air
still excessive, a geyser in a box-set of boxes in bigger sets you don't see?
Very classy but nothing so great and natural as fetal non-sleep breathing in your womb!
like a prelude / a vowel habitat exploding with party frogs!


Dawn went.

Not to arouse your undue repentance, your wellbeing was my concern. I won’t forget.

And that does it for this hour. Exclamations postponed further, advancing no counternarrative to mower mechanisms with flames that surround trampling, pressing others into feeling nervous in observed time, expanding behind the capitol. Many observers.

Sun shines larger. We rely,
really like your ideas. / O

It’s such nice work, any idea
with its schema proliferating
a question of .. you can say

I’m still not finished, you pay.
We call soliloquy anti-theoretical
since there’s no one else speaking.
The idea she’s extended is not audible —

it’s just a backstory away
long trusted there inside two rooms —

semantics + looser distinction
over words bringing up the actual goods ..



To commune sounds handsome, calm, bent. In the same call you reverse prerogatives, that is, your voice does. (I’ll table the difference.)

“vacant.. trespass”

— Your message is mixed but never better aligned. We’re together across how’s it going today — this is our hideout, learning the ropes, perusing scraps and hopes of coping.

The unoccupied mind long overdue. The you

I reference is in primary season. With your suitcase.

I’m back in the aftershock reading and lifting heavy plates, reflective or reflecting? you in the foreground w/out belt.


‘Feelings are empty’ .. still / they’re
rude − here is where the motif helps.

I told the boss you said he should go to hell
(after all), protecting the shareholders from hock.

What’s a game emotion like? the hang off it.
The contours. Nothing month. T’on. The combin’ ’n

Not a one in the cards can bend. Phrase whole simply. Save early as

Emotionally poets always knew. ‘Emotional’
conceals larger, shattered statements, ‘knowing
they have not made a point’ —

Should I continue to enjoy happiness at dinner
having intercourse by

Missing motifs? Enjoy living to be admired?
How people talk?