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Lachesis
Landlubbers, the crescent moon has arrived with slanting tales to populate your sleepless nights. Laplanders, the croissants have arrived with breakfast tales singing a version of Paris. Lugubrious joiners, the crestfallen arrange the breaking hearts in versions of temporary relief. Laconic gymnasts crest the heights. The braking assistants bring them belief. Largess gained, crevices open,…
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Step Aside
So which derivatives finally brought you Down to these placebo tract sprawl avenues Away from the cusp of excitement? There was no one to confirm your rapid Demise. Edited out, it was implied. In retrospect much reflection tastes of ashes. Some chose Buddhism it is floated Out in the cocktail talk. Wandering among Real trees,…
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What Remains
The sleeping mind arises. It reconstructs pictures into meaning. Flashing lines appear from the dark. I learned subtraction until I was full. Leaving the movie I drive off Into the screen where all The clowns died laughing, And so we go to The funeral of pregnant pauses. At this juncture I’ve forgotten More than I…
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Colors
red the underbelly of something dying the blood coursing thru veins bulging the sun squatting just before darkness the billowing morning flags over the people blue the faded edges of forgotten places the waters once were the empty room with filled ashtrays “Gauloise Blue,” Robert Motherwell green backs with envy on the other side hoping…
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The Casual Air
I no longer need to speak to you When a nod will do. This is a paring down to essentials. Now the air between us is charged with a relaxed fervor. I no longer have to touch you Constantly like the collector who Holds a possession that holds him. When a spark brings a flame…
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some mornings
you surface like the returning drowned resurrected soft & beautiful swimming out of your dreams
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Reel
You have come to be closeted in the wind & so I ask you to take my hand, touch The gravel traces that run Thru the weeds on the sidereal clip. They dangle from the projector, The projectionist too tired For the catapult, Too tired, For the sad tales we cough up Into his arms.…
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For All We Know
We become delusional when looking out We see only for & against Go on loading up on imaginary needs, Interfacing solely with like-minds & choirs. Some of those choruses may acquire pitchforks As times grow grim, and disinformation Clogs our airwave arteries. The incandescent time has gone. We are on low burner as autumn arrives…
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Examination of Experiences
Include everything and you leave Out the essence. Leaving out all things Such as emotions of any note make it appear clear, Colorless as it is turned over. Hurrying to this thought, Putting away the tasks to hear The transient trains that glide by the screen Is a way of collecting our parts: The photographic…
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ajar is for Otomo, Rowe, Sugimoto
the wet tires on the black on sand the woodpecker you don’t see tick, ticking the slippers you can’t find in the dark until you do the sound you can’t imagine until you hear it the humming wires overhead with & without the wind that rasps, creaks, ebbs, ends in the calm full of subtraction,…