Saturday, November 17, 2007

From "Lines out of Space"


how was your day?

now darker I wrote this later
[leave space up top for cataphoric reiteration] such is the gamble
throw what if the saying of it can’t fill this obscure whiteness? inexhaustible streaming whose source whomsoever stakes a claim mist shrouds the brow call it a hill if you will but brow still stands black birds peck roads this was, at the finish, what we all agreed on having seen if it was made up I didn’t make it up but I made you up
one animal’s sharp cry “ ” somehow delimits this shapeless grey occasioning of the passable irrevocable day so they say anyway best thing is to deny having anything to do with it that way your arse is covered either way if anyone asks thrown down the paged reconstruction hollow soled boots on the wooden platform everything is meaningful in that it happened now much lighter I wrote this earlier real writers probably feel the tool-heft asks “do you know the name of these flowers?” furrowed is a word, double letter score the pattern that is made by your current of associations less a way of thinking than mental disappropriation it was an effect I went looking for actively back there first light on honey soft nearly time to put the dinner on somewhere an owl not invisible only held from view by its will if the phone rings tell them I’ll call them back let me pick up where you left off I say “think the
unthinkable, because it’s unthinkable not
“to try”
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