Sunday, February 20, 2011

SINE TALIONE (recomposed Donne + Scalapino)

for the computer cut in my car

I am in towns I know
fools order two bullhorns
people for saying so peak outside
brown and pale seeing and loving
in whining inner day
the moon opposite
isn't poetry but where's everyone that excruciating physical-wise man
would not be that pain on?

if only she would not also deny day
pale limitless crooked then the others' junk
narrow theories she learns as the lanes, earth's,
they do

theories salt away flowers' inward sea
then water's fretful

I thought the motions had existed before their pains
to do, that night's horizontal
is also the sole blackish blossom
I could draw my grief through
if without, half in before child rhymes, pale people I hated

in them, they're not existing
without, those being present motions, he cannot be them
should its intellect, later, brought to
that vexation as at only numbers,

but that cannot allay that fierce verse
not be so it fetters in, for it tames him later

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