on the clay we noted more than half of
the grain had spoiled, and the copper
was of quite poor quality but
we were then too many miles from
the great cities and their gods so
we crossed three more mountains dug six
more wells made our offerings with
fresh water and old song and waited so
tired but so hopeful it might work
this time then rain the earth slides and
the flies and filth the sores boils and
strange diseases but we walked and
found a green land one cool spring and
never heard the horses approach
Tag: song
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It’s the way though innit the muse leaves
and your mouth aches for more song, but
the veins are filled with foul air and
dust muscles do not move So what
do we wait like house cats why notas long as we’re in service we
must serve and hope the mistress one
day deigns to lay down a circle
of honey no, of course we’re notworthy but keep the pen handy and with
any luck we’ll find some lunch and
sell a few things and maybe tipthat dusty bottle from the snow-capped
shelf where the third expedition failed
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From as safe a distance as
possible and with the best
of what was left in those days
we stared into the center
for millennia blackholes combined coalesced
larger repeat larger
and the news sites with
a fresh hope each day butwe knew and couldn’t stop
staring into the all-
eating mouth where a fewstrands of light wove a final song
through empty stars already gone
-
you forget how peculiar
you get in deep space and if not
for the neglected maintenance
schedules we would not be in
such a childishly canceroustrap but for each recopied day
we still get one tepid shower
and food that will inspire no song
nevertheless the mattress isbetter than advertised so we
could drop one of the class-action
lawsuits and sink a little morebut instead let’s try again to
find those lights you’ll learn to call home
-
today isn’t the day but it may as well be
I never learned what the plant needed dark spots linger
leaves start to drop and group and maybe each solution
was but we did our best and then it diddie I want to make something of that but that
that feels so so I want to find something to
though that won’t either so I say these two lamps
together produce light that’s insufficient
this slow thick syrup won’t
be hurried some hungers pretend
they’re not the I Idon’t want now then a new bird or wildflower song
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Fragment 71
to keep my optimism fueled for this thing. I still can’t tell if it’s working or not or if it ever will, but can you
it’s not the worst assignment you’ll get just wait until your task is repeatedly plucking the legs of various cicada from the gaps between their rotting teeth you’ll want to go back to blatantly secreting soil from the fingernails of fresh corpses before those hoards encircle the city once more fulfilling the prophecies that
really judge that standing in the middle of it? I’m still not sleeping very well. I think I might have to go back to journaling
wafted from the mouth of a lost puppet by way of the museums of mice who have feasted on the rusted flesh of a half-eaten apple in the dust of a reluctant decision gnawed on for twenty years which is whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer the bland job I neither hate nor love or bow to the boughs of trees the crowded subway the bass line of a new song deified in the sun-symphony of her hair her smile but can worn images steer worse to better the cards show no numbers no suits just your reflection in the mirror across the street beyond the sparse forest with darkness closing in to sleep
before bed. I did do an extra half hour of meditation last night and I think that did help me get to sleep. But then it was so hot in the bedroom that I was sort of tossing and turning a lot. And I think M was feeling the same.
softly beneath the black warmth of the legs of your horse the river talks loudly tonight and through its nature imparts a restless feeling to those who love to be astonished so we may once again make a claim on the portion of the kingdom we believe is our birthright but the verification process is tedious and it’s more often the other way around grasp it too tightly and it shatters cuts your hand and everyone at the party looks and I bought so many things that had to be indexed labeled filed maintained to feel some emotion in regards to consumer accessories my skin was getting better but yet it was not enough I could say that my plan was not quite world domination though I knew what I would have to do but one day the mountain carked
and ran through what was left of the town the people stood by as they had for so many generations and I felt the wind on the sand on my thighs looking for an escape well I might be busy that evening but we’ll see it doesn’t sound enticing but I can’t say that to him you know how sensitive he is about these things and it’s only now that he has found the tools with which to deconstruct the various elements that form afterward instead of watching the snowball
-
before the day when the day if
but today
let a song slip through your fingers
find that last breath
barreling toward some release but
the sand in your
shorts the ice cream begins to melt
for a second
you forget that this is the way
the world moves and
that’s not
quite it either there was a kind
kind of light maybe
it falls and smalls and
smaller the world
spins people go
to parks interviews
you hear a voice
but the words garbled
maybe with a
little work but
that’s how it all
starts again freed
from one hole
you fall in another
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All the Parts
I
as in a dream in which we must play all the parts but self-consciously the work doubles and suffers as he turns to drink and loose video gamesbut unlike this dark wood newly sprung up around the house the chance of coffee or anything decent for lunch recedes
when we were stranded beneath the white waves it was only those voracious years of romance novels that saved the ship and sailors
so once properly cooled and decorated the cake of my previous actions could still prove delicious
it was never meant to last as long as it has though some seeds only sprout after a fire we never knew needed so much tending
and we started off so strong but whether we like it or not we’re in a purely habitual forest now
perhaps this is what the song is really meant to be about or could be under slightly different meteorological conditions
II
a dream self-consciously suffers loosewood around the house of coffee or anything for lunch
beneath the waves of romance novels that
decorated the cake of my previous could
as long seeds sprout a fire so
strong whether we like it or not
perhaps this is what is meant to be
III
as in a dream we play all the doubles and drink this dark coffee beneath waves only years of romance novels saved my previous actions never meant to last as long as though some started off strong we’re in a purely habitual song about slightly different conditionsIV
in a dreamthis dark house
beneath waves
my previous actions
after a fire we knew
started off in
perhaps this song
-
I lift the pen but why my eyes slide down this poison face
but the sound of a bird I can’t
the glow of the sun
sinking what
else can I sayI waited too long and they’re already cleaning up so I grab some trash and throw it away they tell me to keep moving
when I slept in the forest those long years between research grants
salad days between immunity and editing
people always said I gave up too easily and mostly through song for some reason but that’s really none of my business you see I’m only paid to write these instruction manuals
leafing at monster cello sorry
it’s these new plant-based teeth
and the weight of this uniform from lack of sasquatch in the spring
did you see it that time like a flash of silver at the corner of your eye but never mind it was nice to see you again and we really should get together and no that’s OK I have utensils at home
-
one paper crane on top of a larger one the body’s thresholds
————–
for no reason a song spills out of me as I recycle this cold grey morning
————–
walking between autobiography and nonsense I stop on my walk to murder the sunset
————–
gulping my drink like a man just found in the desert why can’t I be more like George Clooney
other animals 