eating the beard
of the ten livers of a horse
as a pound of flesh in a drum-machine’s dream
and bound and calcified, made obstinate as obsidian, mooning, and blinking
wood, accorded to which, you chop and stack in...
but why the long face? and the unmarred sheet beneath my hand held inviolate and unfailing, that my wrists and my waist seemed so easy to break. (giver and receiver were to be identical, for the sport of the pharaoh) though all I knew of the rote universe were the Pleiades loosed in december, but the muddy mouths of the baboons and sows and the grouse and the horse and the hen?
april seventh, 1928
june second, 1910 (watching the fox pick-off my goldfish from their sorry golden state)
stood there beside the gaunt rabbit of a mule
the two of them shabby and motionless and un-impatient
remember remembering our german measles
but my kid oscar turned three that year; he started dancing and telling jokes, and started thinking more about frances bean, as well as the sex exchange(s) between the dynamic duo, or how to speak (properly) in the ear of the cat in the catbird seat
stood and watched her, gape like a rattlesnake
but her dogs still run roughly around small tufts of finch-down, in tiny nooses, heartbroken, inchoate awful atoll, incalculable indiscreetness and sorrow, bawl, bellow, sybil sea-cow done-up with a bow and its arrow snapped into bits of leather (teething impalpable bits of leather) broken lather swimming in the barber’s bowl broken condom in the toilet bowl
the purslane, the clotbur, sesame, and panic grass, the feverfew, its spanish bayonets or goosefoot but morning glories, bluets, the intact ingrown organ or its simulation as it were raising the covering sheet from the wax-slab, repression, impression and imprint of volcanic grass, the hairy-fruited bean as consumable voyeur with milk-eyed eyes, sun pouring wine, lord, or marrow, and the yoke and...
the picture window, produced a half-word that the displacement of water is equal to the something of something the child of my sorrowful if we could have done something so dreadful that said little sister death that had no sister not people like dogweed milkweed can he smell the new name given to him the child of my old age it just missed gentility theatrical fixture just papier-mache then touch...
gainsbourg/ birkin dilemma
a smaller capricorn and tropical stomach cancer, and a porous boulder touring a champs-elysses esophagus (serge died; acute gauloises cigarette geometry) whited throat ivory coast whited coat coat blanc(he) cote d’ivoire but the french charlotte, lou doillon as one-half birkin (native though naïve self-depricating genealogy) the english like the french (“well no we do not if we can’t get...
waris invites you into his tearoom cum oasis
tea and sympathy
milk-eyed mender →
pollen as plow ruin, and motherlessness
womb coiling, mortal coil flex, tree-chopping fitted a king’s crest appliqué at the pants pocket polly pocket set fire to a face on fire