[from: the Loss Lieder]
they laugh,
but then the choir fell thru the floor.
it became, or appeared, a moment with odd rocks arrayed for the
public. a nearness twiddles its thumbs
far away....and slow beginnings, introductions with feather-time, heap up here
all over the understudied.....if you overstep the bounds, then the hare will lie down with the film
makers. almost the eternity that they
shoot for, slithers into the one regard i’d seize. if electronics replace the scoreboard, then
fire on those who wait, buried way inside personal life. the state of crying slings right past, and
then you put your foot on the accelerator, or a mammoth pike of sensation you
barrel down. when i have all the echoes,
i’ve heard some right at the beginning, right at the start. a toy
by definition’s broken, and quietly led forms to glue there. laughter distant while calling up the, almost
the rapid fall, they’ll come toward you with those papers. an explanation is halted, flim-flam amuck
with time in this jar. i’m going to drop it (right now). all frozen the one
letter, and if it went astray i found
new gestures, a something else (like something opened). quite right, then i changed font. the big one, with appalling dark lines, it
was like a painting in a dream. or
commercial in a dream. forest scents
while being stalked by animals with ownership, credence flowing out the
everyday.... stunned managers, you’ll
find your hats where the cards are.
punch this one, this word, it won’t ring only pay out with clocks under
my adjusted “no”
