Can you penetrate what ethos there shows not growing up empty of teaching without holiness? To understand this way amounts to ridiculing the state of barons and proles. (I remember the salad shooter.)

(Someone asked me not to do this.) That’s how not-shitty is while our so-called public face makes a living, picking and choosing without difficulty. What kind of government takes things more lightly?

It’s here. Helium released — thrown in reverse in fall — trees light up again, everything’s on the table, throwing your slutty voice in the snow across a disheartened bone yard of axioms supposing its completion, turning shrine–y meadow.

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Your first lovers could not find your mind. Then we happened to answer, seeing
the wind is fixed on the floor, and circles in midair. We see your point.

We don’t want to be a second try for our silent partners we all seem hellbent being.
That, and we understand we can meet you without seeing you.

He said no way, I don’t like it, blah!

we exaggerated because this is how we understand,
it’s your taste, what do you think?

That’s the gist.

Buried for dead but still in view:
If I put my hands a..
you can’t hear me you’re going too fast (bicyclist to bicyclist).

It’s a mistake in the tradition but it gets you to the shore with one shoe in hand.

I will find you.

Eurovision rhymes. We mostly orchestrate filming and documentation
tho orchestrate is imprecise. This is a paragraph or so.

There was something we could share 11 minutes before

for a type of the world you are
in the vicinity of information seen seeming on top (of it).

Kicked passed phase G
cements form the plastic posture.

Down the.
Farted Carbon. “Bleach.”

This is weird. Sounds agreeing
w/ newer media that grow with loaf.

Yesterday’s children are unlike mirrored shrubs, Mr Pop.
Are you good w/ ago —

that’s a direct but not unserious question
per the Court of Professional Hair and Dead Sea Cops.

I told you I’d rather de-mine material
than be collaborating, writing this down

11 minutes ago.

A cool looking Japanese statistician told me I go for the moody and not expected.

The color of the spine high and low, unlikely yet foreseeable.

So I put my name in every ghazal. Am I fit for that? Are you and I? I ran out of balls rating you. I found what he says emancipating, since the data are hardly unadulterated, driving me, well..

Doesn’t it freak you all when categories are givens you don’t need to work out?

I have a sentence for everything. This is a transition.

Some of you is more sound-oriented while translucence flushes downhill.

Your heart is non-music-industry.

Solitude, confidences, you’ll learn times in the day, the plays and the jungle of paradigms.

Space between faces adds up what you say waiting, keeping your eyes busy on the platform.

And there you go, retreating to that panoptic middle ground where they still come up with innuendos to bag the new, addled priest wiggling his back end, half orchid, half gold, a toss-up.

This has been said a little bit before vegetative blood.

I’m ex-singing of course in slow motion I see

a dart has feathers & it flies around materiality

or maybe this is how we do it & / or don’t, giant spooned,

grouchy, scaling down the polluting firm’s driving north

as Stalin executed the pyramids. Then vapor became all for it, both arms.

That’s a pretty bold next step. Your book, it’s staring out the window, saved-up.

To aggregate is to achieve; that said, a file results, followed by a deficiency of thought, of ideas. All the same, this is the second point.

Adorno says plain speech is starting over in the middle but it’s a real, dreary beginning, an opaline as it were, marked by both natural and technical production, meaning either way.

Also we’re reading Mina Loy who abandoned three kids in Italy to take up egg crate sculpting in New York, realizing her dream performance in “Fidelio.”

So, with regard to static and its ovoid, stasis, in a compulsive battle over some ultimate smiley face, it’s not just who grinned first that counts, but also wherever and however. That’s my middle point for the interim.

The collection centers on content while something sober on the ground keeps looking up like most data that prospect on appearances. This defines a pinch of stairs.

Everything I note here is integrated, resonating with a prism thru which you can point to the horizon that’s both magnified and askew. If you admit you rejoice in tricky intersections you’ll be taking sides.

I am touched by everyone now alive,

a naive conjecture about thinking this is taking care.
Moods are out, given our place in the new biology. We bear no respon-

sibility for foundering within the social paradox of violence.

As noted the product is on the loose. Complete white-out,
softest jazz, lower right, your lips moving up and down,
talking design shit. This mirror for sale, for example.
Janus has everything as he knows. How can a bantam weight =
feigner? his husband asked over the phone.

You can’t believe how broad the brushstrokes
it takes to embrace you, which reminds me I won’t believe you
until I have your attention and whelm. Bloomberg told
me the full F.T. is not for blinking out. I’m laughing I bought it
for the value of a block of ice cold kitsch last summer.

That’s the Wayne in Janus.
I just want him to come over here.

A ham declares,

to think transactionally, mewl. Sometime in October you can retract. Someone else’s woeful cows fill in as a preview of what will become beaten but breathing w/ mutts redistributing rheumy earbuds and the back yard will regenerate, stink better.

But the inner spaces, poets in their teens need to put on a much rheumier show, I think I said that, and made it a quote: a dream of immense sadness peers through me promising not to point. Of course there’s a way or two out.

We permeated where you and I should have

hemopxel in 14 countries. Diagnosis in any original sense (I have a rival who keeps me on his toes.) is a mystery.

There may be more formlets of propositions. An even smellier way

than this newer mystery of avoiding one another’s silence in the face of attainment. Heya, that it or no? Your people were unstoppable (on Blackberry). The pump house has its procedures, howe’er. Lightheaded fishing stops a bullet. The pillar edges out like the flat nova in I. Got. You. Am.

I’ve always been mad about to point. So the others doesn’t count.

And I’ve always been secular. Silence strong.

[Rewrite as a song] She loves some of the same things he withdrew. He’s going to remember this. There were damaged utterances in his case. [As a commander she can steal from herself and call it his...] It just feels wound up to outpace an apparatus [not properly issued for commentary].

You have to figure it out on your own. I hate what I just said.

You’re not alone. Our dojo is chewed over, sculpted penmanship.

And here’s an apple

for the reacher. (He taught your addiction.) It’s a straightforward proposal:

You can see what's been picked out.

Neuroplasticity feels like games.
Try Mangrove Gripped in Saliva.

Swimming
Synchronized.

As a composer in this case,
not the narrator,

one pleasure is borrowing sentences to raise his
consciousness. A filament like A snap tide itemizes all bets.

Beach safety — wow, everything has that just-did-it-for-creation stench.
All experience is seriously correct. But what is identity?

Still
how can it be effortless if I tell you what I’m doing?

I’m in no hurry. A life is charged
for care. What cottage reluctance (like student conviction) is.

Now my head is cleared.
(Have to go.)

There he is preaching to tenors that need you.
(Drive safely.)

Software permeates philosophy,

so sex in the head is amazing, coventry gray, amherst charcoal,
a perimeter of asphalt whilst lecturing to a square insult comic. The name is Qingqing.

The meaning of structure is un-manacled, somedays the words are latinate for summer’s fixed width.

Plots don’t belong here; it’s thanks for speaking up for the Skia font family. Next we’re feeling a little wisp waiting for a train to ‘what’s out there,’ fidgeting self-mastery even in spiteful moments — was it something to do with me? I don’t think

that changes my life. Oh, yeah, the breeze alliterates this off, too.

The antihero has amnesia. A cheap brush with / at the brim of syzygy, standing there she picked up the phone and ‘dialed’ another number.

I see yours but no thanks. This is tomorrow.

With this destruction of our marriage, we constitute the Non-Group taking part in a phony ritual to outlast how nice that would be.

No one can help us switch landmass.
To set you and me up is to hit a musician within an I-hate-calculus speech act,

now unfolding to take us out, shake us tamed.

I’m that slaphappy-proof to diffuse your feeling me up. What you said is part of it.
A muddled cool from so many drugs the craftmatics forget to breathe.

[Rewrite]

Before cymbals came up and the 1st song reached out, and long before the whole body gets parsed, there were snores of ancestors and their coughs and grunts crowding in together in caves. Back then the body taught itself phonemes with shrieks and groans to signal pain, humming to sign comprehension and varietals of cognition.

Teamwork. Our people are what make us great.

I’m out on a date, now, with Mittens, while I go thru assembly,

the taking of whatever works to exchange the hand that feeds me.

My fiber is malnourished now thanks to wind of the locals.

Our sunset seminar in coconut milk hurts according to their slung allegory. So why does it get processed thru history?

Scruff breaks off to play Live Fire.

The sea festival pieces had long been sounded but I’m back dabbling in capitalist craftwork and, that’s if I hit what I feel crazy fancy, and headed for greatness in the morning. It’s different from the evening on and you hit back.

Along with you I’m sad about this being push-notified by memorized drill: pluralizing by the converted. We’ve turned into clients. Then came the filching of imitation in the filtered water..

... brief punches of text look great on the phone!

& visuals, production-geared and prosaic at base, that is, a-theoretical, factual. Broken, misunderstood.

Down here we let this happen, instantly, phonemically.

Sonnet

I was never in 2 places enough to ask permission
(trying to please paid better)

so that got to you. The back strings of time-space shout some limit.

Got that myself.

Totally new a petting zoo cannot stand for practice —
not while the restless recover from numbness :
blessed are the thin angles of light made identical, emotionally,
extrapolated to driving that home. That’s the super-definition :

Vaccinated, merciless itch, what is the homeland we travel?
Passing thought immortalizes the X+one “casting
of cities” thinking past us. A true 2 years before
messing with you. Why did we wait?

The tank smoke is elevated. (Parens are helpful.)

I’m back with my typos, a hiatus to find my mind breathing, so much so this looks stupid. Start over. Whom will you discover?

On the third post you really had us and were all over us. You didn't have to what the hell? We told you we agreed a little but not a lot. I forget now what you sound like. I’m choked up by the plot running out, suspended. It’s unlikely there’s more about the future and of course less. And some things you need to repeat.

That was at the start. I know that.

Taking chances put us in this lissome interpretive state (birth). Function varies widely. Lilac is a favorite zest. Then it plummets into difficulty. Here we are, talking about it.

If that’s everything for now, we’ll switch to metonymy. Slangy hypotheticals never miss. Or is it a geyser in a box? Gimme a tummy poke, infant Satan asleep inside the womb! It’s like a prelude / nano habitat exploding with party frogs! There’s an aspect of covered wagons and vultures dropping eyeballs in fake vomit. It’s no to rational sisterhood. No to our house on a cliff behind the house. It appears we’re operating in sludge bubbles where a tribal language — just so you know, I love what you’ve done with the place, the crumbling infrastructure, squishy puppies and pit ponies boosting those who surround my home — over here — the canonical devotion to be obtained in They has been called something, something pastoral. Let’s start with that idea and see if it pertains. Here.

If someone is on fire, do we take their place?

“Every man is a Rimbaud issue, be mine as we consider more relax words,

northern flickers w/ masked ducks or

a painter at noon," someone who routinely does things
that would be awesome if intentional.

“Purple black teal — the axioms are exaggerated.
The murders we’re in control in ruined by the sounding-it-out tools.

Very good: Very goo. I mean knocking the repenters
off, throwing knives, wrecking them from the inside, slicing up!

A game of gloves is long overdue. And I’m back in the duck shoot, now
reading and writing without an attorney. That’s how the paint sails.”

[Rewrite]

Read this. I did. Resolved, the body is loaded with symbolism for all seasons. My mind messed up. Sun pours down, unobstructed in the region. “Prepare your red matter.”

I’m leaving disjunction behind. To work with you (our plan) is one way to avoid subjectivity as a nominal fallacy.

To be anyone who will die isn’t perverse, it’s the inside dress code.

Ah, holism doesn’t come naturally, Nickolas Christakis. Yet the parts know how to grow, Benjamin Aranda.

A Cretaceous bunny stuffed in an envelope is ludicrous. It’s untidy and young. I basically authorize it. While your back-and-forth is rubbed into my hair / no-hair in all these dubious directions you’re going in until you do onslaughts in self presence

that’s the game self, yourself, perhaps, to squelch a tautology of actions that seem certain when hidden by how far you are beaten into their projections.

We are of navy birth, feeling not so bad about the brief gleam that seethed with rank fidelity, a gazing furl trying to gnarl sparkle to figure our life together

our history, ok sunsets standing in the waves like Jennifer Moxley’s “arc of grace, a mystical exit from the trap / of birth chance and bloodlines, call it talent / or perhaps obedience: mostly we are poor.”

Your search had no results.

The time is split into categories of use for work, the sinister about-face of a system download added to our labor.

A life sentence for causing a ruckus.

Call me when you are ready.

You are the incomplete I never finished off in the hold.

Justice, liberty, rule of law...

Also, it’s easy for you, suddenly, to have fitter enablers to soften my last interruption using little consonants in your throat.. we’re holding firm. How many epochs of parallel scenery will it take?

The air fills with similar results we can pin on like tendrils and use later on blind dates and..

This is not a test. My every utterance is for expressing the park telling jokes.

The place was beautifully democratized. The beginning seemed and was (again again) :

To qualify what happens & delay what this is take interpenetration among important guys running this.

I’m reading Jean Cocteau again and watching Butterfield 8.

Richard Howard translates Cocteau, Unknown and betrayed, that is a poet's fate, the and italicized. To continue, There's another slant to male deadpan, social conditioning in lexical pragmatics. The schema echoed by take-downs, inflammable straw men (physique / text), and clustered pellets (biodata), whose immolation compels male gut pleasure. The instant take-down / &-out. You can’t have deadpan without it.

Granted, on a more personal note, I can maintain a liberal apolitical pronoun to cry my way into teaching Jean to hate what I hate.

You too. Sorry, I have no other associations I can share. I was running through work everywhere. Don’t know why we are in this automatic summation of now or a minute from now after the transaction but before it turns up on your phone. Last thing, I thought our agreement was ‘fuzzy,’ a few elements incised to form solid bands connected to what I could see up to the valley.

I should not be this famous without blinking .. Waiting for a drive on a weekend
in the future 3 —

you’ll miss the pick-up. You already have.
Hello. Your voice means a lot in a pastural ...

You see, there’s a cloying aspect when able bodies gather to
phenotype, we have to line up the device of warm visual partners.

I had called this gateway the dooryard where wealth is taken in-
to far correlates inventing a new intelligence of largess. It

all comes with us. If you invest now, daylight garners you
a vinyl film stairwell math to snap out of going off half-

tuned, footloose & naked but hidden by underwear.
(Triumph is creepy. I remember the salad shooter.)

Coda’s darting endnotes on drums. & pity nowhere now w/
dark engendered power .. Cavaradossi!

I will get a spanking. Yes.

I’ll misfile principles under stretch rigs, w/ others,
the higher ones, in baroque-neurotic drift put to sleep.

Any higher are not talking,
there’s tighter discipline.

There’s a method to share. Society likes building coherence. When we make out I see cubism & new media touched all over or felt
athletically.

It’s overrated, I whisper to you, myself, falling for the steam ’n stream ingredients.

Here’s one’s take on the ’N-Sync reunion. It’s
an illusive healing (a method) stitched to transparency (washes of shadow)

& aspected by hedges, almost.
To go on we shoot back & shift subjects

in compliance with bets we place... whereby
bluegrass conflicts vis à vis breakfast & rubbery clouds, the proverbial irony.

One’s position is reincarnation roughs it, because it’s safe to lounge at home without saying oh,
wait we did this already.

Home is a test pattern where the class marshal escapes, holding out protractedly for that nest
egg, so dropping the opposite side.

You may have noticed I’m on the side of the construction of meaning, & one very long eyebrow (as wingspan), felt
& continuous with last summer that had no purpose, just sheer falsetto.

The wind from the south is rambunctious.
What south represents may be playing tricks on us. You wake up & up next, you’re vapid.

You want in? Try some eye accessing cues, carve out what rafter was seen strapped at the top. A noun for emphasis
could be imagined.

There’s a method to share.
Let’s go through the stream. Gavel to gavel what we say converts to light rain, weather
personalities & stunt making. Hours & ours.

For serious instrumental music
“I promise we won’t bean you with a bag of nickels.” Cheater,
there’s a figment in our remains, the quartet’s on a mission; higher
         up, the splat’s part doodle / association we can void
as a hoist to operate prayer in all directions. Smile. Shall we?

No further down, the tones operating with phenomenological genomes,
lattices, an industrial park at the corner sheeted in quick-fire
milled cement, plywood & dust.

Private-public ideas, still hidden, gone native, & of fine voice.
          “A voice & nothing more.”

There is a lil automated palletizer of bread
with industrial KUKA robots in a bakery
in Germany where groove is still a verb.

The odd relay repeated.

I did my research. We don’t do pinpricks, I’m told.
I’m not adding bespoke grammar to discontinuous anguish.
That would be another season’s U Da Pothole
puck-aged shadows, not today.

                              Lastly, I’m worshiping
a Shrek glass while the full loom of grasses
blows town including the swerve parts since this
is like the rest that could potentially be used
again until such a time when it gets replaced.

That I think of you.

[Pause.]

ii.

Anyway, I retract my falsehoods. & for the same sutra
I condemn & mourn meritocracy. For / & all men
are servants (JC et al.) that nonetheless practice geo-metry
to inspect the brain. (I don’t think it’s called Trampoland
         for nothing.)

It’s nice finally to put a face to the humiliating nickname.

So, leave the top 2 buttons undone. Fate
shouldn’t adapt what’s spindly or bang
it home. There’s nothing else except that
distasteful impression of Mel Gibson
in red shoes. (Footwear is a hot mess for
men.) A sick mind resists emotion solving
puzzles. Are you going to put that there?

It dawns on me I am covered in bacon
reform. Instincts are mostly buried under
cement, sunk talking to each other, eh?
They were hard to get out of the wrinkled
valise (I removed the tongue). Lilia’s Pond
plays daylight for boucle, searing, puffy,
relaxed, with that living unlocked smell.

Paired off & straight to the point of getting hooked,

as surely as there is a heart to math there are biblical truths about achieving horror.

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

nothing is copious for the obtuse

[...can’t stop it...through language [how about] [...] cheesy time lapses in which [traveling backward] speech & narrative continuity become incrementally

transformed into the next thing that declares amnesty?

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

Blinds drawn, our overly prefixed, scavenged opacity fills with sang-froid & riches of dark matter that covers your dissatisfaction with its comic pedigree.

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

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

She loves some of the same things he withdrew.

He’s going to remember this. There were deleted utterances in the surface structure. [As a commander she can steal from herself to make something up and call it his...] September hence is being looked into. It just feels wound up terribly to outpace an apparatus [not properly issued for commentary].

You’re not alone. The whole month is chewed over, sculpted penmanship.

And here’s an apple

for the teacher. (He caught your addiction.) It’s a straightforward proposal:

You can see the signs.

Neuroplasticity feels like games.
Mangrove Gripped in Saliva.

Swimming
Synchronized.

As a composer in this case,
not the narrator,

one pleasure is borrowing sentences to raise his
consciousness. A filament like A neap tide itemizes all bets.

Beach safety — wow, everything has that just-did-it-for-creation stench.
All experience is seriously correct. But what is identity?

Still
how can it be effortless if I tell you what I’m doing?

I’m in no hurry. A life is charged
for care. Cottage roadkill is on the menu. Now my head is cleared.

(Have to go.)

There he is preaching to tenors that need you.
(Drive safely.)

You’re both bat shit over the Audi. Well, I really enjoyed it.
95 percent awesomely small for a verse play of the photogenic, unstopping scents, 4
wheels, moon roof, lounging in queue for the motorcade. You can’t predict what you are going to do,
and there aren’t enough shortcuts to go around to encapsulate your suspicions.

What does he look like now? It’s ok to ask?

Snaps of skepticism, sharpened anomalies.

An etude like celebrity.

Ancestors understood by these scarves we housesit,
patched in resistance, creating busy, making-chaos “work”
enacting a more cautionary life, absent trifles and your intuitive psychiatry.

The music took off about here, 1st looked wonderful along the quays with embarrassed
breakpoints to the past, thinning out in the high style of ending (Otto Dix). Something hesitant
but better starts the engine (cherry red) to recover what takes over

moving and sounding-it-out — the marsh gets exaggerated. Let’s conquer death with abundance.

Evasion foregrounds style and motives. Abruptly per the Chronicles of..

Bieber Values rhymes with the Ladytron inside earnest emotion.

Reading Delmore Schwartz repeatedly gives me head.

We or most of us have an attorney, after all. But this looks stupid

To vocalize what’s sunk in, I can’t worry or pierce my ears further.

I unbuttoned my supplies and pulled the first-day ‘turtle’ out and began to think of golf, wondering if I had enough saliva to give it even one full coat.

At one point Nixon loved China followed by the end of history.

The declension in the passage next is on advice of a clawback to choral music with a view. This of an airedale.

It started again. As I was saying, my memoir(s) could begin around 2000, celebrating a gaping yawn in my praxis (I hit the pavement with less inhibition thanks to your goodwill and dynamics). You and they must have a connection to the same eggy puzzle where there’s this lights-out factory, an eyesore we dreamed up or could dream up. There’s no agency inside, no intervention, only stripes of ideas multiplying in dark, reduced to making more inventory, keeping faith from their orientation, mining the richest veins, designing solid almost stoic codes and disruptive satisfaction. Some assembly required from dawn to midday, they think: so many in-folding explosive arcs of competing constructs they flare up into an aqueous shimmer. One I’ve been party to. Party is one word. It felt so good to close down a wide sector of the critical imagination, ethos, and move nowhere collectively, a function of a huge leftist irony-software & aggregation corp. The year two-thousand in brief is an egg-hatching moment, kairos, and from then I can move forward and back to connect the times with the ideas and people that encompass my naïve expertise.

Yours and mine. There’s a flywheel effect, also, that turns conversation over to science and greed, and the prototypes that mess up the visual cortex, paste-ins crammed with luxuries that bind, ushering an anti-life of grueling but quickened radiance they co-broke for enduring benefits.

Prod.

Somedays the words are latinate for summer’s fixed width.

But thanks for speaking up for the Skia font family; we all’re feeling a little wisp waiting for a bullet to ‘what’s out there’ countering it fighting self-mastery even in spiteful moments — was it something to do with me? I don’t think

that changes my life. Oh, yeah, the breeze brushes this alliteratively off, too. A cheap divide open at the brim of syzygy. Tho the homeland is not in the way, exactly, Detroit is poisoned, anything but stable, under civil forfeiture, worse than a headache. Five episodes in it’s the Jersey Shore and the interesting morality of eco-suits.

Camps. Dupont Julio.

Je savais edifices le feraient fortement. Cuisses gazouillants.

Camps. Dupont Julio.

I knew edifices’d sharply. Thighs warbling.

Part of the world works backwards facing the street, passing it... A science fiction flushed hollow a few years ago, looking on outside it, and still walking through adhering to nothing, just passing, but also taking root.

You’re asking a lot.

Standing in the rain says I may as well switch back to what it says.

Fair enough but there is absolutely nothing in.

“Exactly,” and in that miracle voice? A tongue in his ear driving noise into a lost history of pioneers and cousins in lines of duty. It’s quantified; what does that mean?

The four-man cabin a flight down.

Feeling cornered. Blue moon as it were.

How is an unepic life colorless, sparkling yet dissected, slumped over in gaffes, so you missed it?? It’s shameful to work for the state, but a foreign government is cool? how did he alone stand tall, pause and brush back his hair? all the other men like him looking up like flight risks? To keep up we don’t find a compromise.

The music seems headstrong.

Everything we paint is structure to write

or was when we were in Tacoma picking up fun Japanese. The miner described it as leaving gaps. No financial grasp to contemplation.

Light exchanges positions. Thank you.

**

Your mellowness operates a transferrable mind.

That line raises a lark, also structure.

Rules write themselves for freshwater miners drowned in bubbles, from .. Me? I’m

immersed watching the light.
I know you. So we forget
Paul Broadnax and sidemen.

Targeting methods.

To appear transparent out of a board game.

After a button is pushed a model young theorist says hello, how are you, then reverses course. She heads upstairs to an installation in perfect solitude.

I’ve heard that scream.

No, she didn’t. She’s indelibly here. She didn’t help but she did.

What will they spell for lunch today? slender objective on a square obstacle? To follow instructions, slippers are warmed; the scripture removers repair to a separate clearance.

The commissary is down in the sub-chambers, aimlessly glistening. I’m often holed up on the second level with the major issues that I have still (meaning my whole life); for now, before reaching a glacier-elbow high water, everything remains in hierarchical Finland, which has worked everywhere.

A kimono has been entered, explaining sex without thinking, and with.

A fragrance is found shaking our heads, wiping our brows.

The same stairs float, for good, if they could.

Like all of the above and people going in and out of buildings, climbing steps, you’re one hundred percent normal running up debt to keep devotees heartbroken, to downplay scene after scene, only springing or twisting into new life and renewed commitment at the last-possible moment.

On second thought, call me Fracking or Stinky. I touched it and it sprayed me.

The herd rushed to the rescue (there’s a deadline), a tumble of inventions, an ambush

a weakening of night to day — body in the hole — one enzyme waking up isolated, seeming eternity. I’d

Forever is a quiet pace except for the plastic : Lake Drastic
containers hanging along the bow : the cow
and top sails maximized along the side. :: hide.

This is a synthetic stretch, a few thought chunks going someplace that makes the senses look futuristic in the right light that’s constant. The point ahead is to enable the passing tourney among tense Fu dudes to nuance the 3-in-1 innocents to proceed.

Lindsay Lohan is making the ultimate comeback.

It worked once, or twice, but now we search the web for an obstacle by the fireside pumped with mandatory inflows of feel-

ing great! The new brands are awesome denouncing oops, they’re metering us to search counterfeiters

doing physics or philosophy with a hen of steam: ergo verdicts are trifles beyond Krishna’s preproduction. All these

personnel will have to be shifted or fired
but come to work anyway, achieving a seeming
bliss of the non-willed state, enlightened but lacking design

squeezed onto a breezeway, among detailed x-rays with blurred images to endure.

We leveraged the social graph to miss you.
How long have you planted thoughts without a gender balance?

I agree. To be reviewed is to be published.

Shit. Ahem.

Teaching can’t be taught.

Poem on Super-8. Another mild one, one and all. Let me pull an invisible
to the eye hair off your blouse to increase the speed of our nation.

When you write you find your living partner. She’s a social creature,
capable of more complex communication, traveling in large groups or schools.

Well, 2 out of 3.

I hardly know you. And will never know you. I’ll give you a call.

Maximum restraint = get it done don’t talk to me.

I remember any ceramic with symmetrical tenets
looking up at the sun feeling talkative.

A branch can be a sentence, urgency in ideas.
We live in a debt growing country.

The air has the outer above for sky.
During the break we reached an agreement.

Big-hick-crazy quilts the sun buildings. Wives
“Great but I’ll just hold...”

Criminal samples predict behavior-like craftwork,
poll-taking is rhetorical solutions.

You live within politics and practice warfare
to engage another’s psyche

& you’re always wrong to prolong his appeal.

I promised you a ham for painting bombast.

Symmetry, advise your assistant to receive my phone call; I need to confirm the ham’s anger has hatched and kilt any chance at.. I’ll have you over when life and death are what they should be, augmented with Pablo Tac bouquet, a full deck of historical fantasy, and hyper décor that cracks the lobes of automation... After that, there will be nothing coarse or raucous to grab at, but thanks! we’re good with our previous melancholy, “no real choice,” and horror-struck, I’ll still want to marry us in quick fire in a church in white. Or did I?

A rubber duck’s victims assume a moral duty. At least if you’re not buying, take a look.

Though there is irony to my lecturing to a square insult comic dissolving in wind sheer, freed into puddles of nudist delusion that swell and swell

                   hi and lo

young bodies keep moving, the elders seem alienating...

clouds part and the aerodrome rushes toward litmus introspection, snug, sotted with the urge to fit nothing in.

                   Slapdash.

That’s how it works. If it is still tomorrow,

what was the transition? I heard that

measureth intelligence by bad bets.

The tea puzzle (for what its worth)

couldn’t be serious about ghosts.

But there they are in sleep

after only five days blindfolded.

It’s a case test. You have a pleasant

sencha. It strengthened my attention

that night as my nature to do so.

Meanwhile as an untrained artist

I made more than 2000 before poems

Which are bets of everything. A

lot has been splayed, getting warm.

Warmer. Some have kind eyeholes.

It’s not done well but we’re surprised (..)

See this pigeon? It’s a true albino. Incandescent.

I was thinking it’s hard to get foreign sports equipment
or the meaning of structure, a table for the indexes of suspicion and objurgating.

I’m happiest procrastinating. When stairwells mesh to go nowhere
                    majorly
between you and expulsion, the hole is closed. Turn here,

there’s efficacy in speaking clearly, gesturing, knitting your own softball.

for ----

Keep the secrets of simplicity, float-free.
Together at night we can demodify again.

Is there a function that describes our preferences?
I put a recalled toy in my mouth. (Eric Dolphy)

I feel a lull in motives. Interforce rondure.
The apocalypse ignites downtown, combustion

And dust spores filling canyons between skyscrapers,
your honor. People take shelter in a convenience store

Then race down into the subway, running with the grads.
Asinine language (you can’t call it dialog). Ugly apartments.

Life-draining clothes. Absolute rubbish. Highly recommended.
Yet the jungle is quiet... too quiet. (Theseus)

This text shelter is self-conscious, an interforce with jawboned clauses, better so it can insist to stay again in a poet’s identity and her intents, conflated with audience, exploited media, her reputation, and so forth. It’s all to the good, superficially, temporally; that’s certainly a limit (to be defined when her success precedes the poem).

So a critical first question for any text is, can we start over. (Rondure)

Joke-check every box.

Some had swing

The scandal passed, hardly worth the coverage,
otherwise excellent. You saw that?

We got back into the van.

Do you own your swarm? It seems relevant
if filed haphazardly under filming about a file,

“Ambient text file,” say;
her jaw trembled

While we Run the Jewels.

A few words on process

They’re from the Be Yours Outside tenor
& crew, high spirited sleeves thru the back..

No sweat. Cash is next.
You wear counterfeits and feel fake. I bet,

The trees, your neck, heavy inks squirting
deserve to hear from one.

A topical shift took control.
It is that one is there.

One is a stranger to consent...
we are in fact desperate.

You
mean the theme costumes?

Ok, I have not fulfilled the norms set by
hey! I approach the history that permeates philosophy,

Urinating while scanning the right data mining
(steam) to quantify any parallelisms.

To project voices “that acquiesce on a positive note”

Sunday franchises are the best as in The
Orchid Sto--es that splits itself up into a how-To

Search for lattice and trellis heroics,
never be bored, “I again

Take out my knife...”..
I kept a secret street car

Divvying up rain, benching the mnemonics,
em, I’ve misspelled every sign.

(I have a skin policy with its own voice.)

I’m doing only one thing at one time on a crazed errand stream
to a structuralist’s degree, as well as to a serener surface.

No wonder cowboys are rushed.
(Practice makes perfect in just one week.)

It was nice meeting your ideas
that changed in others’ lives.

You’ll miss the pick-up. You already have.
Hello. Your voice means a lot to us. I’ve..

to stay within budget is pleasing
and boring.

You see, there’s a cloying aspect when able bodies gather
to phenotypes, we line up the device of warm visual partners.

I had called this gateway the dooryard where doing well is taken in-
to far correlates inventing a new intelligence of largess. It

all comes with us. If you invest now, daylight garners you
several that are breathing.

There will be a brief ride 2

the time’s coming up. The evidence had been persuasive,
fewer sleights assigning you to defeat or traverse us

would be an intrusion without an understanding
of randomness in aggregate, the law on hyperbolics as

the least extraordinary appear similar to expand the mirror we’ve
induced enumeratively. Tho functioning.

From here it fetched something. Examples of published cook
-ing ontologies, whatever they got it’s alleged. We

don’t have the brains to have an open look.
Someone else’s sense was pledged & then.

This will be a short ride. Largely harmless.

For this is how the spring fern drops over the aura of the photogenic vitamin to stop the sentence, fuzzed it. Yet one lacked the perfect raincoat, one’s self-reconciliation for past springs.

So you get it now about dualism, you make 4 walls the rendezvous, along with a winter roof, lounge in queue for motorcades. You can’t predict what you are going to do, and there aren’t enough seasons to go around to encapsulate your suspicions. (for RR)

for CH

out of sight out of your sight

w/ no neo-soul levitation

don’t fret not forgotten

de-frustration dropped

my wife in binge-recording

**

she followed the brightest soldiers

despite her resolution support group

lacking too many to call a disorder

looked after for good reason

it’s so much conflict not about

**

conscience as a confession of self

this neighborhood perfect

to cancel the meeting

on a so-called preserve

it wouldn’t let it reason août

**

next to some sleeping people

staring through the ice

is this bluff for real?

before the ice scissored out

the group

All attempts to grow God are disproportionate.

As one citizen you fail to mushroom, ignored. But we’re hellbent when two or more discover wisdom on statist terms. So we need oversight.

There’s a glow in the argumentation seconds before it turns systemic.

I’m also a lefty deep in the battle between the sexes. The rich won.

What Went Wrong

When it comes to an early suburb, Maoism is never good enough.

This aside, those issues of ours are not specific to now.

Hand-me-down functions are jerry-rigged, “I want us to be in charge.” I am.

Seconds later you’re unsure where dick-brain ‘stands’ vis a vis the design industry.

It’s probably not false that it’s too obvious (as well), it tastes..

Ok an explosion directed the shots down his throat, the light in back..


The envoy lay toe-tagged in the I.C., an imitative sort, not

That we’re abstemious over disquiet when it’s cutthroat & officially sanctioned

Getting a pulse, fixed pupils, dilated. Don’t try this without the others.. who?

They want to be involved clanked again, going back for a time out of pocket.

The sine functions were ‘pontal,’ still rising from parterres & topiary snapped in place

Our place.

I love everyone in the world but 1)

to fuck someone as dumb as myself is a patent gateway
for dropping in programs for the hard living you purport
this evolution internal-memos, and yet I do not care

someone called, we had just a week to reply. 2)
A trip to bountiful is automatic for any who knew endless circumstance
is overdone: rinse off the parakeet-in-cage top knot 3) this dazzling

calm bright warm evening.. I have something new to show me.
The rules commit us, all this will be yours.
(The rules are too much in the back office

with everyday voices cooking. That is their cubicle.)
Again, we're on the lift gate for votes, finding a clean carpet
afflicts our schools in a curious trade of IQ conversions

(we thought you gave it up).

We are pretty much part of their special advertising.
In this light you don’t say.

I have a revised voice for moods and I’m holding to their path, rescuing no one. However soft or firm, the drills at the end of the continent put up more shelves. And now an aspect of our fiction is told/on. We have no perverse incentive to be mindless of taking chances, since we talked a lot thru moods, too much, and too often we drank to the madness of how angry they get and how it makes us crazy for the late poetry of X.

No futures present newer phenomena.

The chorus is plural on that or whether it’s the end of aging, but one is the moral shapes are out. More order in mayhem. Be with it.

X, that’s the turning point person we hold for show. You want me to reconcile the semiology? Type in “split to a pulp, elegantly disruptive.”

We can feel it, silver-blue lamé (void) but I wasn’t too sure (strangers like it this way) swallowing their methods

for now, months and years going up in ideology and any kind of style. Whatever futures is.

Un-manacled

But plots don’t belong here.
This is a model venture.

The antihero has amnesia. Hellfire, excrement,
up against mad socialists for 20 pages..

Fire away when I say go
find hell in what it is, no absurdity,

no time involving shades of gray.
We are in no position to say

how at a client’s urging you negotiate with principals to preview what the client gets. (The grays show up as rule breaking.) The white deal carries on. You black are shut down.

This is my conceptual of the former myspace. Copy that order requiring the fireman (Verizon) turn over customers’ logs.

I wouldn’t say “favorite.”

August

Volunteers wouldn’t sing a soft rock number called “Immersive creativity.” So, melancholy. But what could be simpler than watching you bathe

or anyone meditate

ow daybreak

dark on seraphic light.

More loiter with intent. Both smile, but neither laugh. They’re wearing harnesses with panoptic properties extending their blood-pull orbit toward other shoulders.

That’s verse one. We know.

What’s This Eyebrow To?

To ask fobs off the message. It’s his fault. That bright kid on the bicycle in a parking lot nowhere close. His fuzz still sudsy, only with strippers on the parallels so it can be substantiated. Too many soups?? A coping top can be spun after torpor clears the rind bored by epochs of parallel scenery: Eyebrows added up like socks or a rain dance to sit-downs and buffets outside the capitol. (2001)

Thanks for Once

Suddenly ten nots sit on my lap.
If you hide your ego it looks great. I’m saying no
with my eyes shut. All I needed to be back.

P.S. I use not as my pillow to quote myself
I’m my own climactic identity, as well..
You can take your helmut off if you like.

Silence pays. We’re both being blackmailed
over meditation spanning the surface, no
message. So there’s nothing to represent.

The will to quiet is the flip side of getting a ch-
amber piece to coast, to wave inaudible
signs for surplus as renewed power, when.

When I Was with You

I went sideswiping among maples & acer pines with no contrivance or opposition. My
role was to fill them in, lengthening their menace while coddling wetlands.

I call this a sex drive.

If I had foreground I’d subside in attrition, better to find & weed out caution. & if I had taken
notes I’d have a root to the scheme of “you,” “me” & any unclenched feelings we
had that I can’t pinpoint or supplicate.

The wetlands are working it through. Those words we had & didn’t have are consequences.
No milieu’s bad. Bad is good. Enmeshed values constitute what’s awake, empirical or not
it has something to do with the sound. It makes them crazy.

R.I.P., Walter De Maria

Sex is peroration. That’s a normal reduction or formula for my song.
The idea of muscle worship reminds me of hydrangea in labor (staging nightmares).

Thusly, as skeptics like us step over and above a shift in moan, we paste in genetic material.

This is how I reside within contingent values like ‘now available’ from a tray of boomerangs
that seem mostly tantalizing in the feasible, wanting nothing, just a tray holding
what go around & come around left to their own desires and systems.

Tomorrow can mete out facts to impel comfortable indeterminacy — for now

nimbus-wet telepaths rush themselves in devotion to their next decimal of the property. This may

be why we’ll read over the presentation, juggle a few heads

and let you know when.

The Metaphor Lattice at..

I manufacture flyweights. Learning and teaching I’m drunk on bounce.

A company like ours takes it inside the parturifacient facility.

I’m not demanding real savings where the legions of death sold out.

Smelling pablum, they met some firepower to prevent further questions. I was a devotee in the sprayed periphery, staying in balance inside a soft radical vapor of mnemonic bigness to blow chunks. Is that the word?

It’s with a baby girl appetite I held myself for conniving to carpet silence. I’m satisfied with my decision, since I’m a Buddha owner — it’s two-way to scale..

Recursions set in. I had no modesty issues, none detected, and fewer and fewer policy goals.

Soon we relaxed our balance to parry something or perhaps two small things that once were clear enough, but not now. We went into this. The 20-60 split seems marvelous at present.

The music pickles. I dreamt with you.

Chinese Landscape

There’s a state insect that was bullied by a beat with a big smile across your whole face, your four appendages gone wiggly.

Let me know if I’m too plotting-and-pacing for you.

Art is theft all right.

Contemporary argyle needsedit. Your face, the trains I ride, it’s all good (Talking casual takes directions.) a kind of equipage inherent in spice squads in the blahs of scenery.

Thirty years ago a spool of red tape (hyacinths) was said to have regenerated, feeling there’s a beginning, and there’s an end, don’t fix it.

For all appearances nothing lurid was due at signing. Luscious hills, gleaming grains. The American Songbook has feelings
that go monophone in uglified loveliness besieged by entertainment.

I did not see Harry Partch and his public are blotto-dreamy.
Now the jury has reached a blueprint to direct them in..

A tree in the wind.
How is it lit?

Tall with liquid arms;
another is hit and run

By a showdown at the riverbed..

I was saying endless tunnels, gadgets and impulse interconnect here while we wait.
My fingers board an immersive apparatus, some of it; it’s thumping on the screen / wall.

I did not know my capacity to recognize him in an infinite series
as the glow that’s cool and regular.

There are. There = are.

And your point? here’s where I come down on Floppy Bear to take a few moments.

I’m supposed to test ideas. I learned bad is to show up invisible
with another’s candor hand-stamped opening on night firelight
and ushered into little squares of hypnotic drumming..
Orange beans chomping at the breast —
reconnaissance, is that what you meant?

Children First

You translators are a close second.

You appear ordinary. This is about something else.

Then I repeated if I were you I’m with that for I should have

hemopxel in 14 countries.

The end is it continues

as clatter divvies up the ethnic accordion out of the rain above the lime stench from haze, round wedges shooting blanks! Horizon w/ rooms. Behaviorally this is falling parallel vistas.

I’ve been noticing this when the weather cooperates.

Never weep standing up , swamps in Japan are barricades

Software permeates philosophy. The brick housewarming ,

(blanched)

Curtains and all the movement inside where it’s filthy.

Let’s find something to agree on.

Opt is a suffix with capital.

Thank you for not murdering me.

It’s always funny, we move to the city, scripted by infantile alienation. There’s less to killing now. Young arrivals will be wandering into the new wrong play.

A killer needs a vertical monkey bar and libido time, a star range w/ plenty of blank tenderness to smolder in met colors and galvanized pastels.

Again. It’s not too late! Optimism pays.

Now open the curtains. Let’s steal the show.

Back I Said

Innocence concerns ethics. Bozo acts against his own interests.

Adoration has a poetic scent.

The wrong blockbuster, please, to the center of the plate.

Our reputations precede our character, the act of apprehension remains
differentially. Creature masks are a condition, it replies

Who will advocate for peace.

This prepares the manifold, earlier,
immaterial representations, the mounting system
centralized, well groomed as yoga for planets.

The earlier bonobos touched it and squirrels did their math
to empower the mergers and exchange. That’s part of what I believe,
for 3-D.

July all a..

A battle between two distinctions
over words bringing up no words
times two more of those brain-states of Asia,
incorrigible, is is. A marsh is now interesting
(and vitae), for the sea, nothing but applesauce and shellac,
the sea brought in without consent, the wolf of the pack
of subject matter. Let’s get back.

I’m thinking of a color — no name, no feel..

It’s a question of blood flow. There are no stages.

Do you know how many rabbits Revlon tapped?

I’m thinking of a movie, “Fat Asses.” Utter, pretentious torture..

Your product here, more preemptive than jr. kwon do

it’s directly oblique, pointedly

I love you escalated, united with everything no-count!

Formality, inadequate to reality, the banner

of cognition counter-stretched, on balance

running everywhere that’s off the — the first the —

and explaining an authentic vantage within sight

and miniature schemes, a whorl, colors of dusk

and wrestlers who portray border patrol..

The School of Nobody Loves You

Ticket holders rise to the occasion w/ pretty good probabilities, because they won the beginning

Tho a fun emphasis is more shaped by time while taking a dance step composed in unruly-bloodthirsty aplomb (to talk pre-theoretically)

That goes by & releases us into a state of brittle ignorance. Ignorance..

Also, after the show folded we were never serious. Toys were another good idea until we went broke. We were not the first not to do what we believed & hold on.

It would take the future to repeat just the beginning.

Imperialism

The last emperor had sex with multiple staffers. And.

We have one of the most advanced distribution systems.

Our virtual agents are crazy for the bigger paradigm to hijack lawmakers that make a mockery of their bodies. That’s like what it would be O you decimated, beaten but breathing of what’s to come next season.

Anyone can see that fat truncation is in question, both crusader and victim in the crossfire, that anything you answer will stomach the fair use doctrine or what age plays, but the resurgence is going to be an elaborate gerrymander where ambiguity vanishes a seeming long time.

Tense breaks, and the mutt of infancy regenerates, feeling there’s a beginning, and there’s an end, don’t fix it. Try to look better.

An aperture opened up and a lovable perspective is achieved. You disappear, and you have children and they disappear.

Snap

The happiness of one bright red chair with a table in one corner washes up in our DNA. Small islands serve as hideouts. You’ll need a new camping saw and hood scoop. And I’ll invade your space and just leave.

I am inoffensive, and most of the time my headlamp is on, but you know, what if it’s good we met..

How does it resume?

I overheard you say it’s unwrapped at the top with jaded lyrics. Go this way. It’s remarkably ambitious, it’s just off the boards, like when the water lilies kick off their work boots and women rule. Snipers crouch, the idea of Burberry’s.

Why rich or clear?

I wasn’t orphaned, I decided to pursue

business: insight by the numbers; that’s the hard part.


Mrs Meaty.. The oasis just passed, a brilliant life

of enough laughter impelling comfortable indeterminacy.

Given. Someday I will have a pomegranate thermostat.


It’s not torture unless it causes organ failure.

We shall read over the presentation, juggle a few heads

in panic, and the you know what are restless. Excellent.

Response to the Supremes Striking Down Section 4 of the Voting Rights Act

The art types you mention are old and that could be a problem if you shift from one prison part to another, like what I do, ultra altered..

as well as crack open alloys of function routing

levitating the landscape during the game renaissance. Had we been game for its premiere. So supply more, David, for historical justice.

Lefties are feeling cornered (not to say conned) by a milquetoast and a court that just doesn’t ‘get’ the left’s style. The government looks terrible. (from August 2009)

To save a life you can break the law to shoulder perfection.

Therein the last nonpoem eases on down the dress code, a bow tie that pays for itself. Context becomes the e.r. Something is definitely going on.

Like a race of giants, welcome to we’re not friends.

Not now. We are made up of pieces of one another in other names.

The brightness shunts the day the emotional exchange began, crested, and vanished like emissions administering the right thing to do, close to you.

Capacious, breathtaking anxiety, yup, refusal to arbitrate glamour, okay... I’m done.

I’ve waded out above my welcome, which was special. And behind stuff there’s an interaction lab as if meta-trigonometry were an essentialist’s incarnation..

Has gender identity hit a pothole? The Raven’s narrator asks. Am I in some experimental state of forgery? And how do I maintain the balance sheets and my resolute informality?

Life is short and drives you. Love and money go down together, yet our fortunes survive the rescue party.

When It Comes to Half-dog Leitmotifs

I can only take care of my misnomer, for voter registration.

Inattention to posturing belies underdevelopment. I’m a failure sometimes.

Freedom is personal. My supply chain is fatalism. I go for .. No, wait, here comes a big glob of bubble gum crashing down.

This was the night after the super moon — diodes in crimson, a soft spot for its cool success. The beach is magnified, ironically revived! losing track of good assets, one’s cognitive handbag, one’s climactic identity, as well as the roadside. To keep up we can’t find a compromise, just initiations in self-similarities. I’ve highlighted one in a box (moon-glob). A rolling bit of Apollonian familiarity unwrapped in aromas of polycarbonate like tall men in raining birdscapes. There’s this rule-of-thumb assortment with natural stenches, along with hidden dimensions in smells exploding while serving no one at Window 11.

The moon shining with its belle-lettriste metamorphosis in the street, damning loose ends everywhere giving wind sheer every opportunity..

I’ll let you out. In.

Vote often.

Sea Festivals

Before cymbals came up and the 1st song reached out, and long before verse gets parsed, there were snores of ancestors and their coughs and grunts crowding in together in caves. Back then the body taught itself speech with shrieks and groans to signal pain, humming to sign comprehension and varietals of cognition.

Teamwork. Our people are what make us great.

I’m out on a date with Mittens. I too go thru assembly.

The taking of whatever works to exchange the hand that feeds me.

My fiber is malnourished now thanks to wind of the locals.

Our sunset in coconut milk hurts according to slung allegory. So why does it get processed thru history?

Scruff breaks off to play Live Fire.

The sea festival pieces had long been sounded but were back dabbling in capitalist craftwork and, that’s if I hit what I feel crazy fancy, and headed for greatness in the morning. It’s different from the evening on and you hit back.

Along with you I’m sad about this being push-notified by memorized drill: pluralizing by the converted. We’ve turned into clients. Then came the filching of imitation in existence..

...We let you aggregate everything.. brief punches of text look great on the phone!

& visuals, production-geared and prosaic at base, that is, atheoretical, factual. Broken, misunderstood.

Down here we let this happen, instantly, phonemically.

Where the 舞踏 Were You

Trulia voices wake me up.
It’s too embarrassing

pulsing in is the deep mirror
a light snow performing butoh.

(Ethical and esthetic boundaries pertain.)

— I don’t want any fun
or to get to know you
ultra-excited to be enthused / am..

web-mincing a response
one thinks on the way to

— the oppressor in his plumage
(I was up in the house
— I saw his softening machine)

how many pounds in a week?

I was hit in the face when he turned on himself.
I knew I am unhappy and not —

A toe-tap to signal potential
Demon Puffs that you are not occupied,
that you are on their side in the I-Be area.

A head with no moving parts, transfixed silhouettes,
plight dwellers’ outlines — indexes to the gentle
varieties that keep steely details to a minimum.

Let’s leave.

I Can’t

Bad news, I was
struck by federal property. You know,
plagiarism in quotes.

It’s cold in one direction,
but metabolism really took off, along
with moving sticks from a huge transcript
for freezing hand shapes into claws.
3-D printing.

To conserve my dubs
of an alpine rant amid cool ceramic
sculpture, to conserve or not?

... it’s all kept grizzly right and left

clumsifying hours of letting be —

Am
sure you could tell.

We’re Not That Stupid

Damn, can’t complain, when your children
left we had chipmunk..

A crane and a white winged crossbill
went berserk. They’re wet bubbles as yes food.

We made contact for a time
inspired by sleeping w/ them

Whatever we thought about speaking,
it’s better than swelling

Watching you spin like sentience
“refined by distance” since this is the last of it.
We have no idea of here and now

And everything is the right answer
within the new priority (and it’s easy)
were we before all of this.

After mint, online somewhere.

Striped Volume

We had slowed down where they went,
Tides ago, twenty-eight seconds. Sea lions, quasi.

I don’t think we’re there yet.
The title matriculates into an argument, for

This is how Benji takes over, a full-time hobby.
A beach boy after 30.

It’s a happiness problem let go on a technicality,
The dichotomy produces a smooch-valid punch

Per a bantam partisan in uncalculated terror of
When he’s to face someone he loathes, or more

Hospitable, changing plans, ready to fall into a love-
Bracket toweling off in most-

Ly random swagger for the catch

Pointe Ball

Discovering a continent and sea slowly determined
Our team of trend-spotters that are debased.

So I can’t be Martin Sheen or Bashir.
Who’s ashamed what? the coach
Office had Box Seat written against it

Time to dys-ornament the scene,
We’re a dog person..

The inner exurb is that the house?

Dashing from the room is a bad deed (second from the left}
For undressed parts of monetizing : (we both hoped you had.) It

Leaves our chair jackets off here

Against the trees like flowers animals
Beyond the clouds quickly explored.

Vinyl Film Stairwell

Math] expresses everything. Seeds will be along in a mo ..

Coda’s a darting endnote on drums. & pity nowhere now w/
dark engendered power .. Cavaradossi!

I will get a spanking. Yes.

I’ll misfile my principles under stretch rigs, w/ others,
the higher ones, in baroque-neurotic drift put to sleep.

Any higher are not talking
There’s tighter discipline)

Then it’s said repetitive motion has gone too far blah
and some at all levels are enclosed,
climbing into casual spectacle, ritually putting
their lives together keeping something.

[Trained} staff encourages sampling
sharpened by social interaction.

That was the life of the party speaking. Highly attentive,
morally camouflaged.
None of the above.

You Reside in an Institute

Our boarding the T.. is it in memory or fear?
It’s a hypothetical of passively
putting you first, smaller than the original.

Aggressive government heals forgetting what’s less to happen
if citizens get to pay for their something. And blurring it reaches.

Boat the memo, commuting while being Derek Jeter.

Steering is good, home town prom night,
holiday windows : legacy dockers
become a voiceover.

Even still-life elements seem in honor
of the tourist book calling, Nothing is lost.

& there is the beauty of computer snowflake maidens
preparing for combat to make it happen.

Sonnet

I was never in 2 places enough to ask permission
(trying to please paid better)

so that got to you. The back strings of time-space shout some limit.

Got that myself.

Totally now a petting zoo cannot stand for practice —
not while the restless recover from numbness :
blessed are the thin angles of light made identical, emotionally,
extrapolated to driving that home. That’s the super-definition :

Vaccinated, merciless itch, what is the homeland we travel?
Passing thought immortalizes the X+one “casting
of cities” thinking past us. A true 2 years before
messing with you. Why did we wait?

I’ll Take My Clothes off

To smoke a keepsake(*) is
to drive recklessly.

We saved civilization for last.
Good start.

Grr, possibly ten people felt well enough
to change some hollow bluntness one got around them

: I mostly remember an atrium recruitment center far off across yours.
How was it elevated?

It’s where they conserve tongues.

And there was a streamline for famous pleasure, wooden enclosures, a caricature to you —
yeah yeah makes it cynical. Play hard, focus on th 2 computers —

The ___ say it’s mostly laid out, that means you in indecision (never cool)
off in medschool’s Watteau duets in the eco-imagined historic moment

(*)before the point

Prayer w/ Sen-sen

What’s the extent of driving off
in getaway hybrid, uberpower?

It could be a lunatic yarn to move around
northern flickers and masked ducks or.

Modulating the self comprises an apotheosis
according to the list. What is a replica?

I’m neutral re: dreaming w/out words,
types of daring and protection w/ no outreach.

“In each house he has a different
name.” Note to self, stop taking umbrage.

We came from coming back

running on a breathy cult classic by folk without a component,

listening and showing we are listening, one part

synergetic Weltliteratur that gives less weight to any fantasy,

another I guess is where we part ways.


You and I changed very slowly with a shower curtain,

in televised football. The management didn’t tell enough

raising our pulse rate. Or is it just to remind you?

An etude like celebrity.

Ancestors understood by these shelves we housesit,

the last thing said a guitar hero patched in, receiving resistance, creating busy, making chaos “work,” enacting a more cautionary life, absent trifles, his sobbing, one but all. He was unsuitable to fit,

The odd delay repeated.

The music took off about here. It looked wonderful along the quays with embarrassed breakpoints to the past, thinning out in the style of ending (Otto Dix).

You gave me your finger. Technically we’re not there.

It’s more your fanatical room named Defence of Ryme.

There’s that downsized color of litigants riding up lilacs, streaminglike vines..

You.. and I’m a habit of empire living under the motion furniture of one of each.


There’s a way we recover from this weather, musks in the field and so forth.

Thanks so much.

Also, there is a taxonomy of the overheated.

The last out-shipment was in vain and embarrassing. The bus door was gone. You could look right in. Suffering, complaining, two out of two observers were cut off. Their surnames are, oh forget it, huh? randomly conjoined.

You see our new brands have legendary roots, cleansed of terror. I was thinking there’s a list of field after field training listeners for Schubert, lecturers, saboteurs of the heart.

Fall back and breathe while your rescuers get authenticated. That’s when brush fires walk in, celebrity temps as in love. (We are the leatherheads you come to bury.)

Breathe, kick, push kick, five ..

It’s about letting go and you’re taking me out of context

corner opening for a split personality, monotony falling away,
overbalanced, rolling into a conference =
having few doubts about crash test results,
the sharp melting into the swimming ..

You actually drain me

                                     (Maybe it was perfect to begin
with also, you see and amnesia.)

innocent on a wet highway, casually substituted

                                     (Even an outrage is on egg
timers, since lights are out in other corners.).

This would do over a lifeguard’s concentration for one of our vulnerable technical observers, a comrade of detection racing as horses race.

And how the fuck does he get to be five years younger?

Once there was a C-class ..

His wallpaper says supersonic cheese flight,

formalist as ping-pong in a less public space (or thaw).

Maybe, it’s light-adapted reconnaissance or maybe,

“A guitar hero supported us during custody.”

For the tap maker thinking of you still, the right

accommodations are key, adapting to a new

empirical, a clueless passage to the frigid Aegean

Plate starting to move southwest. There’s so much history

& sensory awareness, the chosen medium,

yet his language is set on a new war cry, plain

holy shit!

w/ a headless figure hammering out Bo Diddley protection.

Flowers in the twenty-first century are poisoned by design, going on adrenaline, dads
and daughters in search and rescue to catch the exception without a low.

Sap is flowing top speed. The logs are
de-centered.

I have never seen Zac Efron’s ass so I couldn’t tell you.

Panning back to lend bulk.

There’s a duet of smooth talk to tamper with, up to the minute
reporting.

Reluctance grew or was it growing only two-dimensionally
educated ?

That’s her wallpaper.

We should care, proverbially. But no. No use.

There are Gatsbys out there, not all are comedians but many are.


Once in our republic of overnights

leaning, used to be a democrat. We left our

gloves, egressing, achieving very little with our price intact,

noting the pride in our measure to

— section our moves and our engagements

— to go over, mix more with census guys,

have cashiers as pets, it’s called freedom of worship.


We are feeling today fallen in line.


And this is how the fern becomes a wealthy intrusion,

the butt dialed aura for groan events and fuzzed balances;

claimant of the photogenic vitamin to stop the bleeding

is not a sentence, lacking meaning, useless settling in

in a way, a raincoat mood, one’s thank you for pastimes

as warm as visual partnerships queued up for the motorcade.

So you get it now, assigning you to us to go cathartic

is a no as is starting to unlace the sections about dualism

in a finger painting where we get dressed for the weekend.

Sonnet

Are you an organized subscriber to elaborated code?
no surprise, you’re house is built on an ancient burial ground.
Milk? Ho are you husband.

Bystanders are covered with a silly season wily and glamorously superficial,
just what we reject or recoil from, summoning logical defenses to explain why
every gravey / ard moos like a doggy.

There were more debris balls so we ordered temporal zones of grace,
a dozen now in your hands, with our desert agenda afire above
stretching its vitals which are later yours. We have other ideas.

The limitless, with its winners and losers, is a humanist game, after
all, subject to emotional habits when we’re together apart. To look is also

(we note now at the end for physics-oblivion)
to be seen. It’s awesome the aggressive are still on top of the old revolution
that was a hail mary.

Finish That Tho

The underground = career trajectories. Preparing is special. Many will come. What sounds lunatic? It’s impossible to separate the churned out understatement from the performance;

both are adolescent in the good sense, pitch.

So that’s how the cave felt.

Next, a cool one advanced by textuality. Minimalist and.

To burn out your swing try knowing you live on

meeting death half-way hapless (and deceitful),
sensing value is contingent, partly it’s insight,
partly not.

Hey, someone cut the grass, that green, wettish smell is everywhere. Hay. Optimism.

Let’s dump her in the rearview, a blur of a town, a double bang of footholds in dizzy luxury, punching thru colorless straws and spheres. She’s savoring the punishment. Optimism doesn’t care, looking to everything that’s snowed over by trivia thru our addiction to wanting. It’s like getting tattooed with visceral consequence.

That she had perfected this freebase of abstraction warranted us to make caring up, like stick figures and collision cases in a dominant culture. (This is her first attempt at working in three dimensions.)

Tribal identity or trance? What will matter is how to find and / or place each dimension. One will be classified by her evolutionary adaptation passed on to descendants. The field for evolution has been one’s work multiplied by preferences, vapor. The work includes more than these contributing bits, but one’s words make everything she does her composition, her part of the work;

Taylor Mead, R.I.P.

I Came for the Invoices

Ever notice? We’re not alive in our century. Our nerve is infused with regulatory propriety until it becomes a dance to guilt to found paradox.

Name a landscape and you give birth, rename it and you bestow to it an ecology of resonance and history.

And here the body politic questions boundaries and syntax, hooked on wistful exposition.

We’ve heard enough. The black president dancing with a lesbian is deemed provocative. Teens shave whenever. It’s a lighter time. Yet the governor selected Oceans 14 analysts in terms of “minimal dark gender-driven counterinterventions” or “exciting post-disproportion” or “the dark valley of statistical tempests and tarnished ancestry”; any one of these features bunched w/ abasing trends, cloud atlases; everyone holding magnetized, spinning, blasting nearby with cranberry force!

We cannot mean erasure remember.

Half-vegetarian, the self-colliding fog drank only the discounted, treasured demographics for smoke-free energy.

This is strictly the governor’s business.

Boiling angry sad practice together.

Whatever symphonic latitude is hand lettered; this is guaranteed
so time is disguised as an inner harbor monument to cut the glare from
coastal space.

She doesn’t know we’re looking.

She’s slowed us down a rose to furnace the pace

a full position in another trace or matter;

springs mutate so much the dark must be the opposite of done.

Sonnet

We’re not all to blame for oral guitar on the installment plan

followed by fact-checkers. The aim,
variety and perspective have

changes — this will only take hours
since it’s pleached with evergreens’ ruined parity, ‘
bacon of light & ballet out of the hat..
’

..unending strokes , brightness and bite
a raindrop across the street from the perfect beach
— one would kill to be part of this to work, ready to go

get’em —.

          That night they enter, have been with us
it’s amazing how “they simply pass”
as within / if a mockumentary for this is
their overreach.

A kind of future in every direction
for the walking strong can accelerate,
ruthless in no sense, the umteenth layer set in legal
proceedings over a bust of twist ties (tough
just got better) —

That’s nice dear.

...a thought this week is
switching gears from undertaking,
putting a trampoline in half the sky
so Sununu is a teddy bear lined with biosensors

— it was just the snap of a smartphone all right,
though it was not translated right;

I hear there’s more solid drama down the hall
a binary fission when you’re expecting
rudeness, so we’re attentive bound for well armed
crazy good disturbance
ish withou

May 6 and 3 combine in that order, 6 and 3.
That’s a reply more or less

(There is no space return to — Savoj Žižek,

to the smartness downstream, the quirks, hummers.
The invite is out there, according to Greenwald,

“The clear light looks on...”)