

number 20prints the bug leaves on the table wane the effervescent and are viscous like the sour stench dangling from the painted shingled roofs of our mouths why am I confined in a plastic bag of air filtration hands wrapped around a bluging eye case coffin. ----- an anti blemish to erase my thoughtsnumber 20
with wet eye lashes and granular
bits of skin spores parading across desert face. That's what I think of makeup on deer antlers in the 21st century.


number 19what we need are archways .... yes to silk my thread through your archway would click your glass spine and slander your tender glow to ashes and burnt plastic but no, only the foreground of and after though just trust ink sticks in entirety it runs away and awaynumber 19


number 18a wood clamly heart tree it flows on glass wilderness' reproach and hark? an inverted bird song nears extinction blending Qs and ewes with gritty skin in my nightdreams asphalt follows and hollows 360 degree archways of gray silk while I follow my eyes to the next funnel the next funnel the next funnel the next funnel, clear as ginger,number 18
a lights on mt tongue like a heatlamp serve with raddish without my permission


number 17reclined and flating on the curves of strung-together logs at open and close sea - with the night day obseqious and curvous It changed too fast for changing and confuses clouds please - When brilliance envelops clouds, weightless and charming The eye cock brows in "eh" beauy like a calendar Surveying one-time wonders until the next pitch black - And next, no storms in sight or chance operation Of weather of course of me of time And well I never rumbles the ocean waves beneath my feet barenumber 17


RevolutionsWere lying in the silence where revolutions wax and wane like the autumn lunar cycle, eloquently circular and fingernail thin, like our assurances have grown. Sort through all this mess but isn't every questioner just a little afraid of getting to the bottom of everything and finding nothing there, perhapsRevolutions
not even emptiness, in all its shape-shifting spirit forms. So change is inevitable, and maybe immutability is as well, because there could be any number of unspokens in this transitory zone.
Lift your head into the wind and wake up now, there
Devious Comments
Thanks!
makes me think of thom gunn's stuff
but more uplifting
--
xoxo Zoei
--
"The first question I ask myself when something doesn't seem to be beautiful is why do I think it's not beautiful. And very shortly you discover that there is no reason." --John Cage
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