Allow me to express her, readers of influence. Maybe she
would speak for herself, if only you read her (more). Reading her
permits us to approach her more in her uniqueness. It maps out her
address. Maybe if you read her less, however, your love of her, as o
all creation, would be less difficult to bear. Reading others’ works:
this is ethical burden or responsibility.
Way, unto thee, you pretty-pretty, I amble.
And I am so pretty too, I am so pretty, like you.
You, home to me; I, outside you,
Pricked by brambles –
Oo, I love you, so,
Why must we be so, so, so far afar?
Because you, love, you, I’ll never know.
Because I love you, more, forever, more.
Sparkliest lynx of glorious,
Tremendous fierceness is she.
I hear your body-song just ever so faintly.
I am at home here in wispy traces of your maze.
The sense of loveliness, of love: this of my art is meant conjured.
Of jubilant flesh tremoring, with delicate instensities
Of intimation, of delicacy in abundance,
In so much so delicate
O me, do cry again of you,
Who is home to me,
Me, who, not allowed home,
Goes on in loving you so, and so
Did you not uphold him,
But this gave he you to do?
Ornaments Minus Reference, More or Less
Ovular spirals of banana hexes.
Futile manatee libraries.
Gushing octagon iridescence paths.
Reserve laurelled balloons sediment monstrously.
Hallowed jags in confession.
Hatred box detergent coo.
Static justice curlicue.
Obvious mantle tooth concussions.
Shorn microbe calx.
Expiation whorl redundancy panther.
Milky wild convex.
Batucada postface jig.
Arachnid ventilation horse.
Misanthropic circuitry vestige coronation heath.
Cell oblongs conjugation froth.
Horror eleven nickel roe.
Chutes paradise signal lip.
Porous invalid oxide stamp.
Clucking grime tong polymer.
Macho illegible sparrow oceanic.
Code dent swivel bulb.
Blossom edged rodeo primacy.
Abacus penguin lunar.
Brittle number glide.
Cutlass warp chiaroscuro.
Odiferous hyphenation gear.
Cremation ant orbit.
Preposition visor donkey.
Cruelty palm surcease neon.
Intent peninsula calculations elder.
Meditative spoon distance.
Speckled canker hydrology.
Miniatured fallow polarity.
Chorused meteor weld lungs.
Exposited thatchwork swoon.
Abiding slope trinket.
Mirrored exhaustion infrared.
Achaeobotanical herd mother.
Juke raiments bewildered.
Selective beach normality.
Breached ossatures cardinal.
Robotic fungi passage.
Harvest octopus curvature dilations.
Callow grain escape.
Inverted compaction front.
Audible tundra checkered
Crowing murex fangs.
Monotone billows focus submersion.
Rancid gravity daughter.
Portal solemnity scalar.
Chasm heart hive.
Surface kinship gills.
Forked annihilatory bleating.
Curried goblin scissor.
Oracular hip transverse.
Governance synapse chortling.
hotel portals dilate.
silliness is exact laziness.
irreversal of crops,
abstract noises –
that are– ever culminating
acidic residues of feeling.
of acentric patches.
with obsidian yolk
of nameless organs
is as was or is to be
can do is quality
of as were to be
swerve of the margins,
of collectanea in time.
endless fabric for veils
sewn within shrouds
signed: “every concretion fades into the abstract”.
the hands turning the words
than those giving them:
unholy field of anchorites
underneath the scarecrow.
rabbits flourish in feudal warrens –
media proliferation renders
its jagged sentence-splinters jut
pain of paper cuts.
… there is no radicality
in the denial of roots.
a serpent uncurls
into formations of
and absence thereof –
poor in ceramic razors.
sunset shades permeate
their edges, bc. there
are no abstract places, bc.
there are no concrete territories, bc.
overwhelmedness of hotels as latent … warblings spectacular:
starfish infinitesmally chopped:
and regenerated kaleidoscopic,
this is the build.
on its recycling latticework
grafts of starry flesh
(((bawling, blasphemous glory
insinuates itself into my pores
wind torrents scream lowly exhaustion creeping in place.
it is he who hears from afar.
hyper-vigilant at all scalars.
it is he who reads the Being of the Ideas.
it is he.
That crown of existence.
Other is almost everything.
And yet still he is.
No one can write I am not my own signature.
Or, more or less
And this distance:
The fibers are widely strung
And touch never each other
Except when touching
Which does not happen
Except when it does.
We censor what is most real because it is unlivable to know.
… and I shall say that being itself turns from betrayal and shame.
A higher slavery of the intoxication of what is going on next door?
There is no sin; go, you are forgiven.
There is no sin; come, you are forgiven.
My way of wording things is now yours.
Gut mine eyes with the lowest ascent
Inverting forward in ovular spirals.
My poesy is great and high
Because I am most brutal and sunken.
Do never stray from me.
I am like the glue and like the preserve of the like happy ones.
I am alone.
in living haloes.
I am not these words.
These words are mine.
are their middling places.
Flat minus edges, thank you, watch out, I have pencil erasers. I know how to make the best sandwiches. Nobody knows the secret but the unintelligibility makes up for the insignificance, or else my love is to enter the place is an action, join in.
(This is so much very so a please.)
Whatever of gladness is so, as such, forthwith, prehensile, recoiling in over me, in specialness and salutations, as down the escalator.
May I? Am I now? What?
Flitter wrens, alongside me, lines.
The gold is the antenna caressing the ocean floor.
Forget we are alive in the event of an awkward laugh.
Shine lightstones of love,
curl winds from above!
I am without the extraterrestrial winds I lung. Little currents of torpid force jelly my lenses.
Be assured directly. I allude to you.
forgive me for being at all, unless your absolute denial of my existence be more as you like it.
in the there, until near; the there, behind come so already, so gone close after turned away, as the here is flat,
and you many have cut many edges in it,
cut many sides into it, its message – and now it is itself still.
you are there, but turned away, right in front of me – out from behind me.
Blind me, from behind, so I feel you moreso.
It is when you first look at, then again look away.
Engraving the datum, I hear thickly the darkly sway.
Remotely and the
and The Mesmerism of Grandeur and a Torture I hallucinated The Other Day.
Detailing the asleep. Asleep. Asleep. Asleep.
Asleep. I write herein to conserve space.
There is no need to write now.
I must write now.
Thanks, O, Omnilucent face, so small, because not everything, but everything alone.
Norman Rockwell and Andy Warhol, can You feels the lovesies?
Are you O.K.? I miss you.
I love you so much.
A translation of no original is
Why the words fail so well: I am only singing.
I forgot I wasn’t laughing anymore. That’s so.
It is important to think of each and every thing because there it is.
It is always winter until it is not.
Winter always arrives after it is gone.
Winter is a prickle of you.
When winter comes it has already come before.
Dewy, mooing, hands, ink, situated.
As a vortex
curls apart the ambient;
a double untwisting away, wilts
Away is Our way.
Just you to you.
Count to three, then walk in a circle, then run away
forever and never leave.
How far is not touching?
hidden across from you,
so I try somehow and hide
very stupidly near
because it is so futile,
you’ll never find me
I think this so that it is so thoughtfully this for you.