Friday, April 1, 2011


was written ten feet on the wall, Michigan,
of the Persian-owned discount mart

a delicate issue

they haven't chilled yet so
it's where I eat

seeds of unpacked garland figs
sucked out between primaries that
have some flavor yet, as the civic image
any, gets lost, of an attending stoves or
filling up as what's a developmental groove,
a pot or yonic (and this is not redundant) recession

a friend calls it a "trudge", the complex
to better note runners, their meanness
I said "they are a mean", is where I draw the word
but they're mean also, I guess

mean to be right, quiet, difficult (too fast) to contact
something of a lifestyles empty beside resting contacts, protected
in the bathroom of who thawed you out but's
you know, who has a lifestyle (puns

are contrapuntal, unite meaning,
are as much fugal model as...)

it's a complaint with the militaristic, that concern
be so forced away, shaped in tense packeting, folded in
not the strategies or guided meanings I use
because they don't trip at all, let alone often enough
but my strategies are as visible and left around

which is the word. state of
being left, or having been (sartre's on their dresser), or
what intelligence's left...
I am a jealous man.

struggle, as a narrative device, is something like
concealment of deliverance, mere antipathy

"this is beautiful"
he has to be told what's beautiful

let, also, a versus left
who's let, or let out to
to be left is if you like to let leave

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