Though bland not watery but stickily present








Mauves worn against lopsided hope

as garlic to the martyr's sniff



Zeros out of scale

and pockets

of warmth under the why-for









and recombinative pleasures

swelling turntypes

and two-armed insertions



All that had plunged under language

was viscous

tired of proof

mating with the hole

beneath an expression of action








Not a care

but the case of

dig for clues

outdistance reason and glow

cover the windows

with transparent squares



Scrutinized upon


looking down upon

mimetic borders

how many

enough to form the work

the unrhyming








That which

leaks from its edge

not pervasive

that which

that held up a scented truck

as foreground

against the shapeless present

not with




each implement

and fasting

the mind's plunge

is an error in space

pressed into thin wax

with no meat for silence

like the lathed and battered

finally erect








The wink

and attentions

of buildings

a glaze of experience

to boil the present

to costume the towers in steam

my face reflects the light

to give words their names

a shaft nudges

the profile of dust out of place


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