Composing around you, I’m a zealot about knowing when justice
with passion is vital, not recreational. For bell, orchestra,
softly speaking, these next things in the wicked training
with no you, no news, you & I become addicted to the momentum,
nothing else drives us into the surf ---v--,
did you bring the good acrostic? “Gobble, gobble, gobble, I’m talking Chimp now!”
Lament is like college camp. Modalities.
Chafed lips, burning talent, with you or not, the curved emphasis is how
official? ten to the tenth more hombres
like a polygamist crew barnstorming thru
an ad host hemisphere. Today’s arm band 100 months after
the small of your back sent me packing. It’s August, Arvo Pärt chafing:
& oblique as you, insipid defiance groaned out, hardly credulous ultra-
unpolished catharsis for subsiding in attrition composing around you.
Occasionally you sleep, given immunity. It’s horrid erotics but in one conceit I could count Dakota Wizards on my fingers... Your hand got in its say, of course, eliminated all that fuss locked inside. You took my hand the most. Took it to heart.
Not every detail is ready for your Cottage Roadkill section, home base, but you know fingering you’re clueless about vertically integrated brinkmanship deliberately made up to look made up, to look as if it thinks you don’t need a hand trying not to skip dinner, coming through splinters of clouds and low pressure peeled back from late summer, despite my never getting the hang of it;
tenuous, jutting fingers into and under the interstate that brings you and me home.
To recap, I don’t think the life of the mind can be made up. I’m not worried it gets easier.
This is ur-summer. & with these Q-tips it’s free to cut none off.
Not even a con anarchist.
Under pre-season conditions, thoughts wash over time —
Starters: Do you test, lease, defame to get the best?
& the answer in a day wherever that is if ..
is it time or times?
Coldest August in months. Al
-so there’s good news at the pump. Some-
one’s who’s over us in the wet & questions the vulcanized backlash? No
hope it’s you. Almost the same as hopeless, no
luck, except the sonnet structure implies conditions.
(I’m a novice enthusiast.) Didn’t know early snow is a surprise
taken to the streets. Falling in total sheer, replacement
snow walks like snow foam over Sherry Hamlet.
It’s snowing, nothing personal.
Further out clear descriptors peel off like spiders
descending, moaning nonentities (the Ralph Vaughn Williamses)
Who could be simpler watching you bathe w/ in / or anyone bathe n
ow in tawny daybreak synthetic,
some tint on seraphic white.
Two more loiter, intent. Both smile, neither laugh. They’re wearing harnesses w/ panoptic
properties extending their blood-pull orbit toward Pan?
That’s verse one.
Verse 2. The future would give more / no more just when pragma-morphism is introduced, makeshifted forward to answer the bravo question.
I thought of you.
Then we see a dart has feathers and it flies as it works the crowd.
And something came up. Initial elements were bled into overcherished ideals I thought you stored overseas — they were sent back in a screw-up, gleaming like oxide from my grandparents’ era. The real guys (grandparents, ideals) were thrown out before we got to know them.
I keep saying so moral bases are gnarly, of the helicopter. Any vantage you enjoy leads to ‘representative fantasy’ or one opposite, blocking the view, requiring accommodation to a time squeeze that looks perpetual, tho cyclical, rendering obstructions fluid occasions of conflict, occasions “not to love” (according to Wilhem and Baynes). But conflict is not merely evil if it lends focus on self-regard and moving on, collegiality. This is the potential utility of slanderers, a baseline annulled.
That said, it’s not likely anything not-said expands fields, roots underground.
Guards stood tall in part over parcels. Now they tell me to take off my belt. Your belt.
An impression is each motion serves a purpose. A higher purpose according to those hoisted in the sky headed toward real politk under their own glare, collapsing into supernumerary states of hemi-fusion, small readjustments in scales opposite a line-up of our unnumbered bodies. (2 or more.) Every dancer stops mid-enchufla for a mote, a moment, feels-better internationally.
Then we speculate natives yield to the rush of new people stage center, all about the fuzz of pronouns taking on subject matter w/ an emanation or 2 brought up a peg to clear things of few or no differences worth repeating.
"In the Shadow" (on the Odessa Film Festival)
in the shadow
It may be hard to imagine ordinary life at the moment in the war-torn
Ukraine. Certainly, it is a time of serious considerations among bo...