Mention the strange interest among these others In what is not interesting in the least and you find Yourself at a baseball game with a statistical manual Reading the rules for search and seizure Until the crew comes to quote you on the infield fly
Bevel the edges of the rotating gentry And state your bad deposition into the coke can There is a plural no man can conjugate There is a trope no one can will
The crew, the farmers, the alibi chode It all styles itself an abstraction But is in fact the guest house of getting along Which is in every case the fight averted -- It is time to have the fight.
This end-time feeling A sheep on the side of a hill Is no war gracing The imagination's cavern club With bituminous barkyard Intimacy radios, But a shall-I winter sport Naturally shown the day As a persistence Cloud-like i.e. formed By vanishing from the earth To loom. It lowers the eyes To deduce the slip of made Room coasts, oh vinyl In clack-rates caramel Pin fastening the numb Entry page to astound blue night. Quoth the meridian, Right, and indeed, Coffee swathed A cold glow into a cot. The dream of a miniature, A pantone grommet Listing for reference to the trade The facial expressions, The speaking heart rate... I can stage that rejection In four brief notes. The newsweeklies Arrive long after law and unions Are printed on rocks.
In the sense of morning practice Of sun salutation I am closing my eyes Something once they judge recitation On eye contact I will Feel the sting Of competition about And compiling the prayers The wishes I am placing into the conscious And unconscious collective Activity of ideas.
Megatsunami crunching down the island Conspiracy theories make me sad Now let's think fluffy happy thoughts -- Money -- The sleeping and cycling Cover me in reverb
An elegist, an epidemiologist A fucking guerrilla general Cleaning up New York I stop at a truck stop somewhere in Pennsylvania Or upstate New York and watch the young mothers Surrounded by personalized merchandise
A radio-controlled savior Nobody out. The twitching won't stop.
I am watching this network exist to pull all the energy. It's working. The clouds coughing, The airplanes wheezing wherever.
Putting meals together for love, For kindling, a little brandy maybe. In the bottom of the glass, a watery cola blip
Nothing and nobody staring into what they love It's blinding!