Tuesday, July 29, 2014

Websites lie. This is a translation lesson.
I’m elegant and round. I can’t snicker. You can, though.

I’m off the wall. So I turn blue when I cool up. I blast by myself when you leave for work. And when you come home I produce a mental readout of how long it takes you to set the new temp, humidity tolerance and so.

I can’t snicker. I’m elegant and round with a mirror finish.

Monday, July 28, 2014

Saturday, July 26, 2014

I’d like to bend rules for a stretch within a finger painting
where we get dressed for the weekend.

A place w/ subdued barks and rare foreign minerals that take on tree colors

where an icon is produced by something nonprofit
heated on sea plankton.

The jet gate opens to the drawing room,
once a factory made the outdoors where snow & sunlight
close their distance. The old new & new strung out on sectionals,
an untapped atmosphere of oblique, puckish Swiss..

The Swiss playing the stunt of relays between workplace & dogma,
everything everyone can live by w/out being
sequestered or brutally charged by objects :
so by these shortcomings we softball in harmony
around some parts of sky & parts of parts.

Friday, July 25, 2014

Thursday, July 24, 2014

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

Monday, July 21, 2014

Friday, July 18, 2014

Surely as there is a heart to math there are light, oblique truths about achieving access to felt qualities.

I’m brusque. The new job title is urgent. Everything is ahead of something else via motives, & I’m underhanded getting back to an axiom we can manipulate;

no amnesty?

or / & like crustaceans we give in, to forgetfulness.

Blinds drawn, our overly prefixed, scavenged opacity fills with the sang-froid riches of dark matter, soaking them with its homiletic pedigree.

Before that yoga is fantastic, a civilizing process added to eternal space & entered into by a worldview that offers libations from within & supports you from underneath.

Speaking of the pure land, we have none. We swim in it.

Thursday, July 17, 2014

This takes place in a weather balloon holding beef jerky.

I unbuttoned my supplies and pulled the first ‘haiku’ out and began to sweat over golf, wondering if I had enough left to give it even one full Iam.

At another point Nixon had left China followed by the end of history.

The declension in the passage next is from a clawback in a choral piece.

This of an airedale.

Wednesday, July 16, 2014

I can steal from myself to make something up and call it mine... Seems asinine, puzzling. Renascent: As if upon death Couperin sprawled with the naked around Antoinette.

Since then we and Coupe seem textually modern as respectable Eurocentrics undressed for success and survival, avoiding careers, unintellectual, peering back, soaking up the city among savages of our own designs.

I’m my own boss.

May a zealous counterculture dart sweetly to life! to help solve you and me for x!
when we let them.

Own a tuxedo.