11/23 - 12/3

Sometimes work comes into my workroom
but not often.
I have three rooms.
"There is no furniture for a room
like a beautiful woman"
Charles Reznikoff wrote
There is no furniture in one of my rooms.
In another a Hauschka prepared piano.
She listens with her finely laid Dutch horizons
those are, her ears.
"You could put anything in there
and play it yourself"
The last room is for self-storage.
The hammer, her spaniel.
I call it "motel"

*

glass unfolds light
light flowers late
late becomes early
feel of blowing leaves
who does what he wants
no job again
long
days

*

For C.R. of G.H.
that cut-up is a barber
that bartender is a diver
those headlights are cats eyes
I spend my mornings now in an erotic fortress of books
our beetles crawl over the page
this is an understanding to reach an agreement
I dedicate this poem to peace in the middle east

*

monthly penury
matter of hormones
disorganization
indian warriors
tied together
with lace
shoe lace
wriggle five
spare sense

*

Guilt blossoms as an overfed
free dinner. "Remember us as the servants
you have inherited." Interiors of interiors used to
be better. Rifle to sword they lick
each other's lobes. Sweet poetry
of a potato blow show. We will
fight for what's right, then party.
By midnight the Ewoks are upside
down. They hang off his ice-spear
like a lei of furry trout. I don't
believe it either, but then there's the
Persian threat. Cooked my library books
by the river and wept. The exile over.
The lace in the bow unfurls when you pull it back.

*


night room      deep sea
marry font of rhizome
jetsam stance pent happening
star sept wall around
fall column full in van
meant flight recurrence
downstairs scraping break
bread or breath a string will
yield and form is tied
with sastisfaction felt
sole and homeward so
better waffles warm below
her and wanting
this drawer is yours
the machines begin their crane-like dance
let us begin
we walk sideways towards the mixing

*


boiling broke
snot froze
a feral dear all
erase a time
frozen fava
what's in these ice cafes
beer to be drunk
tiretread spine
dutch crouch
round wind oh
authorite expires
this food illegible
and all I ever wanted was
to pancake like a painter
she sits astride the robot's thigh
Irish & can't see
so careful instructions from marshall Luigi
whose five pointed mouth opens and closes
disorganised orgasm
freestyling ice cream rhyme scheme

"Out you mad-headed ape, and convey my tristful queen!"
O esperance — Brave words! Rare world!
Cradling my confidences in mixed trust
to meet the cheque of such another day
I play with mammets and tilt with lips.
Pacing the pismire, an ostler gets the squeeze
and never joy since the price of oats rose.
To read them transfigured he punned off his clothes.
In our restored city may he be fittingly praised.