Monthly Archives: January 2022

pronounce ypres correctly

Stumped Focus. Breathe. Here. Fuzzy wool strings. Lime green. Flayed solar flares encroaching empty space, like rabbit ears stumped. A loom undone. The Dardanelles. Where did that come from? Why now and here just before his interview? He knew he’d … Continue reading

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in the shade

Octopus’s Garden Mimosa tree secularity hit me in the solar plexus. Ain’t no gods going around making mimosa trees and atomic bombs in the same breath. Time and space are like the lint balls I fish out of my belly … Continue reading

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pick me clean

Rumbling The field full of regular hours. The strain of exposure to sunlight stark and unfiltered. It’s got me down, debased, debauched, and drunk with stolen beatitude. The scarecrows keep me kin—and if cock robin is not in Caracas I’m … Continue reading

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documents were signed

The Pomp Today I broke my vow of silence when I broke the glass in case of emergency. I croaked in a muttering fashion most embarrassing, “Ra… rah… run. Run! There’s a moth infestation.” We had moths. We were underground … Continue reading

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to stew together

Personals for Condiments (Haiku) Curt olives desireUnwrinkled tangy capers To stew together. “Holy flowers floating in the air, were all these tired faces in the dawn of Jazz America.” — Jack Kerouac / On the Road

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lonely & destitute

Check the Groyne and Moil Murmuring a conventional recitativethe baritone herded the baronetheartily beneath the farmer.Dowse the dartboard!My dowsing rod morphedinto a calypso airgunof uncomfortable residue.There’s garbage in the streets.Check the groyne and moil—Let’s dance! He moved chalk for a … Continue reading

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teeth cracked jag

go supplicant tongue parched pavement wavers hot teeth cracked jag skull throbs welts sear dread dead sun go “The COVID Age: thatmay be the Anthropocene’sgift to the planet.” —Karthika Naïr / A Different Diatance: A Renga

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in my neighborhood

I asked the future why it was not as good as it used to be. It said it could see the diacritical marks on my words when I spoke. I said: I saw one of Dali’s giraffes eat Magritte’s green … Continue reading

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in the blue

drink a jug of sunshinestraight up—by the riverengorged with victimsdown from the hills—bodiesroiling in mudgeyser-blown the sun—it’s work undone—unperturbedin the blueclearabove “i’m writing these words to quench my thirst. i write alone in the hopes that i would write myself … Continue reading

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we say nothing

Imbricate My words imbricate your wordsYour words imbricate my wordsWe overlap in squalls and skronksFour boots squelching mudA call and response Never at reposeWe squawk a fortress against understandingWe say nothingWhen we say a lot “We may only be alive … Continue reading

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