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.

Tuesday, July 15, 2014

It’s hard to do a mock-up & care. One idea, to reject isms of the center. Both influence perception, both engage in what someone made up as sources. Nothing in-between. Nothing to hold so to speak so more below.

I have nothing better to do than pump out to her grasp.

Then there is this payment due to survive, incubate & find offspring, & while we concede no phenomena evolve as the plausible epicenter after modernism, I think GS found herself now, thru various devices, in the center of that & in the center of a tangled ventriloquism composing..

Another solution is to operate as if there are many centers. (There aren’t.) This would debunk centrality, like the first idea, but its non-facticity is huge & eventually restores centerism or centrality, because the unwelcome news of this one meme among large numbers: this one meme, along with others, operates as if each is one center inter alia; this news motivates competition requiring a top heavy ism to regulate caring, a tough call but it has to be made. Usually by a policing force.

That said, the very minute we get off the phone, the fog enclosure switches back. I don’t think like that. Don’t believe that, impetuously. That never happened.

I can’t tell you I don’t care.

Friday, July 11, 2014

Too many ideas inside — I’m,

You know — can’t.. when I think

Who’s thinking, maybe after I’d,

Just Pessoa locked in place

Where things think on their own

You know — may more than 1 I,

Things, myself, lots to hide

Whatnot or not, and I’m me too

So I could give you shit

Because when I speak you’re on

Stirring up other ideas

About what I feel
Think I feel, oh, Woman!

Man! You’re telling me

Nothing new here —

A stupid thing, knowing.

Re-examining all savagery,

Italicizing my failures. I’m ham-

Fisted attempting satire,

Snooty, freaky I gay love it.

Thursday, July 10, 2014

CVS counter. I know him, he knows me, I admire him, vice versa

.. sorry, I have no other associations I’ll add. I was driving everywhere. Don’t know why we are in this automatic summation of now or that a minute from now after the transaction but before thinking about it, sending it over, with only a few elements incised to form solid bands connected to CVS.


I can’t be overdrawn, I still have cheques.

Wednesday, July 09, 2014

Lao Tzu (Zi): The follower’s flower name is hooded, part doodle & part I’m
not sure there’s no use.

We’re down the hallway leading to stairs cut in two, fronted with wains, brants,
sacks, waking in hazy brightness with no clue how we got here.

No one can help a cloud of clouds that should lend support, falling.
Some of it collapses, not to claim different output but there’s moral drought. Punt.
Get used to it or go home to switch tackle.

To set up phrases after the follower is to hit the complement of blunt
geometric form. And it’s clear whose side you favor for spectacle.
So I get the timing right away, it’s about a few seconds ago —

a formlet of propositions, like a handshake made of grease paint or prayer
warriors & their contagious oil stink for months in geologic time.

If he can or if he wants,
what you said is partner of it. And how his confusion is proof we diffuse.

Tuesday, July 08, 2014