Richard Foreman - Slice

8/22/2019 Richard Foreman - Slice

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Richa r d For eman

/ubueditions2001

Sl ice


2/154

Slice

By Richard Foreman

Permission kindly granted by the On tological H ysterical Theater

Special thanks to Charles Bernstein

Cover by Dom Sylvester Houdard, 1960s

2001 /ubu ed itions

/ubu editions

www.ubu.com

contact: [email protected]/ubu editions series editor: Brian Kim Stefans


3/154

1

Left over, the flutter of paper

bleeds an expectation,

new ro ses not yet

timed.

Ingenious victims

spread thin

on the cut of deep feeling.

Expected night

unflared

like a weight.

Sl ice Richar d For eman


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2

THE FLUTTER that m ight have been

touched

on ly flowers,

and the tight lid

roared

into the sweet night.

So man y fast fires

lined

lost trajector ies.

All eyes ro lled

and the head

emptied

could

vision beh ind th e back

blacked out .

And the roll-touchspread

into a whole city

flashing like ink,

word sucked

into a solid gard en.



5/154

3

SUSTAINING grey light

key stretch ed

under the fog paw

of damp

idea- mixed trot

up steps of streets

pulling to b e touched.

Not-enfo lded but slid

under the wax-wet finger

of cold m inutes,

bon e into lock-almo nd

creased into th e head

map gouged

in rock-space

like a bell-nut.

Hour into the head

cold coldkeeping the light shell

brief.

City-flash

grain of throat communion,

the bark

of idea on idea

steaming

stained,

glowed.



6/154

4

MANY, a whole strata

into th e streets

that multiply,

drift

as long memories

shoot fast

pinholes

marking

the ad venturous need le-bra in.

Toast reno vatio n

from fingers

gripping towards skull-skill.

Flow-up g oa l

featured

fluttered

a gap.

Sl ice Rich ar d For eman


7/154

5

THIN

mouth-effects

spread

brain scrubbed

into the tota l bowl.

Here-here on a flat

boredo m level

like a h ouse

non -tiltab le

becau se full.



8/154

6

H EARTCARVED

he opened h is palm.

A light spread

left to right.

Insignia of flash,

idea imprint

over the vista-weight

rapid into a

clutch

that spasmed

itself.

A mix

total.



9/154

7

WHEN in whiteness

a whole forehead a ppears

wiped

and the da y roots

grapple

with foam influx

all hole in the mouth

no n-word

poured from a patient shovel

don t see.

The vista fools

even th e rigorous geometer.

Tran slato r too kaput ,

except error

which bursts

into th e non -locatable

(glo ry) EAR.



10/154

8

THE VAST

open eye

self plung e

with a word .

Un-twist

into the total

mix

of langua ge selves.

Singular melange

re-found.



11/154

9

VANISHING

was a resource

employed by crowds best able

to utilize twilight hours

Circulation without revelation of deep tho ught,

remarkable printed information

captured with speed.

Wind ow washers

swept by doubt

plunged aga in into space,

met d eeper,

those they heretofore dared not embrace.

A meal in a hundred

still in fligh t

added clean surfaces

to banished imagination.

Somebody thinks Oh , its raining,and a glass door very

de-man ufactures the urban electricity.

Don t shock too soon.

Do n t retro -revolve

your very glass

door of downpour

of demon ic drift

of double correct

very real sweetness.

I said electricity and I meant electricity.

I said rain, an d I meant lift your eyesif you still have them.

That downpour

is mine.



12/154

10

O VERTURNED CHAIRS

find their way into history books.

Massive d iscoveries

fill suitcases and coffee tables.

Cups stand drunk not.

The residue of celebration seems uncommonly brilliant.

Why! Why! Cry creatures.

The streets are sometimes empt y.

Painted store fronts deepen their paint.

Colors, not more intense today

Say maybe tomorrow.

Oran ges on the stands

Roll when jostled.

A ho rse appear s.

Spectators scatter a nd pretend to be speed shopping.

Perception comes to an end.

The ro utes open fully

and a car heaven,

heaves.



13/154

11

A ROUTE, re-twist

under th e blanket light

no w-new ha ze folded

onto the memor y screen

re-peopled with each grasped

digit-item

Knives and forks

where-marched

upright.

Idea-stalk

between bites

into my own

intimate buying.

Day knocked through the dream

pre-sleep at the t ab le heaving gifts

under the lamps

sad rule of light.



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12

ICE MUSIC cools noth ing

but rare as music

temperate, non-believeable,

this could be lost

or not lost.

Major belief

the key to all

self-lifting

comes now with darkness

into the non-street

speeding.

So it was.

inside-out

from a blind socket.

The light

poundng through fingers

again and again.

The potato in the mouth

slows the landscape

red-purple

under its liquid-visible

glow.

No belief manifest,

but small isolated occasions

rose to the o ld music,

a tired fist

only.

The suburban driftre-heavy with deep flair

was a continuim rea lly

so no bod y got wet

and the d eepest pa rameters spread like tactile butter.

Oh? I head him repeat,

Tactile butter?



15/154

13

A DEFINITIVE OUC H ,

he rose to no occasion,

smiled beh ind vario us disguises,

kissed an exploratory good by,

lifted no h and in considerable intensity.

Now you know him.

Without shadows

he spread

his fingers

to touch all shores of the personal.



16/154

14

A CERTAIN REPERTORY

of imagina ry left-outs,

thats what the shelves in shadows made solid

in a way that had no way out.

Could I re-scan a nything but a beginning?

I said no t

and was self-surprised.

All the h um-drum

mad e such a loud n oise

I had no ears.

I betoo k other events

in place of coming to terms with what was

dear,

sweet,

and too m uch touched to be rea lly kissable.

First time wa s last time.I gobbled

swallowed

not scared, not free

not particularly me.

That s how I got where I am n ow

not particularly.



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15

I COME hurtling toward s you

in my langua ge.

Feet, hea d

arms and lungs

all excha nge superiour position in rapid succession .

And th at

we call hurtling.

Does it hurt?

Of course it does

in a way.

In what way?

Listen,

while I pound upon you with the top of my head.

Can you feel that pounding?

Its the top of my head!

Ill make you bleed

like I bleedfrom th e very top of my head.

(Repeat after me:

From the very top of my head !)



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16

B RIEF BUTTER

circulated

at the enterence,

hobbeled

by the sweet taste

of the mouth king,

re-entering

all doors

vast and ajar.

Schemes, schem es

that drop

into the dry brain,

the watchful

mix.

Was it domes

that passed here?

Butter shine

made thickleaf magic

rites of smear

smoothed

on the forehead

of hairless

camels.

I too

ha ve tra veled

by sliding .

Up and down was my wont

acq uiring agile tastein the gold d esert.

Sweet



19/154

with the old blankness

of stuffed

thought-flesh.

Zap: into the turning.



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17

TRIAD:

the man y finger

pound-clusters,

fours, fives,

all ma gnet -bled

in suspended blast,

not

the verge-hold

splay return

inevitably brain fed

compoundagain.



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18

WH EN A WH O LE

turned

vehicle slid

lateral

to its shadow,

an image rock

in th e bra in of the Who-Who .

It did

die-not.

Color

out of color

shone-aga in.



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19

THE DARKNESS FALLS.

Radio pulsations extend t heir reach.

Interference increases, which multiplies the possibilities wherein noise

may accidentally suggest eternal realities.

Eyes search the shadows, inventive and turn inward.

Certain genuses create from the blackness artificial day.

As a result, real day begins evoking an imitation and so

imitat es itself.

Airplan es flying o ver th e city

but no one looks.

Their rout s solidify into n oise umbr ellas.

A vast space is pierced.

Symbo lism b ecomes light to see by.

Animals relate to n etworks of huma n intera ctionby imagining how to b ack up.

Man, being an animal

Does it his way, by self consciousness.

Winds rustle venetian blind s.

Streets empty themselves beyond likelyhood.

Ladies alone under the covers resolve to make

tension radient.

Ask how and no answer is forthcoming

which in the silence,

deepen s resolve.

Old men a re covered.

Hands clutch at protuberances in the shadows

tha t tun e bio-active faculties.



23/154

Organs turn

Into self.

The p ossibilities of future action

count with birds

not on branches.

An electric glow is seen

behind deep water

falling from ha lf closed open faccuts

in a variety of rooms trying to con solidate.

Women b enea th ceilings that echo wallpa per,

the head spinning

.

Ha ircuts lowering impenetrable invitation.

The cat

multiplied a s ikon

finds no competition.

Shadows fry.

Organizations meet.

Vast important resources tap carpets,

deep red.

Windo w washers lower th eir eyes to see space.

Already eaten meals spread consciousness toward new dimentions, but

recognized by memor y,

menues float.

Rejuvona ted carpets

loan things

Eyelids converge on bridged discrepences of sightseeing.

The bus loses axel power.



24/154

Gr eese tread s new routes

and the sore foot triumphs over elusive pain.

Sitting becomes a method of transcendence.



25/154

20

MUSIC not music

but wind that stopped.

Tree houses loose all mystery.

Birds rise, their mecha nism und erstood .

Empty streets look again, no less full than normal.

Shopping sprees seem slow, which is normal.

The woman with fur quivers but it passes.

Clocks all nota te, which is not norm al.

The unusual fa lls into place like clockwork.

Dogs make imagination the next plateau.

Energy waves latch onto heat, a nd lose entr y.

The locked gates hint

at everything else.



26/154

21

C RASHES self-muffle

and railroad bridges decide late bets come from the heart.

A workman a llows pride to greese the wheels of going in circles

and steel rims the ho rizon.

Wha tever r ises says

Steam, you are part of t hat g iant blackness, now.

(Musical mole-business

of course,

musical mo le business.)

Men light their own eyes

using a utom obile tricks

to stack people up

at bridge supportable

trait-trading posts.

Rivers cross und er, tur ning into no n-rivers.

A red Cadillac finds ways to color itself

that remain public.

Still time for lunch?

The star toast sparkles

until it travels to the stomach

where it sings

Swim, swim!

Heres lunch, but it h urts.

Swim, swim,

Heres lunch for free, but dont touch.

H eres lunchbut I vanish in order to be eaten.



27/154

22

I AM HELD

by the music that rises.

Engines of sound .

Waves, slow slices of the would-be ear,

hands into the teeth absence

palatable now.

(What makes the bo dy dan ce?

And dan ce it does.)

A program for a life

lured

with the intensity of singing,

dancing, sleep even,

of which no intensity is the memory even.

Such a soft expan sion

that the very untouchable is the very intense.

A program for lifede-learnable.

A true

program fo r life

disolved in its own

liveliness.



28/154

23

AIR MASQUERADE

drenched in sun.

Shop windows

chorus-able.

A gaze of bo unce

eyed into th e long

white boulevard

with a yowl

of heaven-butter.

Such was that placid t ick

under th e eyebrow

when great beauty

hit.



29/154

24

AFTERNOON crack

of convergent metal.

I bet I h eard that mysterious sound

because I was here for a whole afternoon .

Why?

Because a whole afternoon is nothing to me.

In poetry city,

I bet I stay

a real long time in fact

because more poetry means more fun.

What was that noise,

that metalic crack, in fact?

Something in my heart?

Not at a ll.

A vehicle exploded

or rather began to and stopped

because nothing in Poetry City fulfils itselfwhich is why its poetry city,

get it?

I bet you didn t.

But it happened like that

and whatever it is that happens

gets into you, somehow

in P oetry City.

(Ive had fine, fine meals here.

I bet you ha ve.

Oh indeed, I bet you have.)

The philosopher turned over his plate

in poet ry city.



30/154

in th e resturant ca lled JOY

he finished his lunch

from a series of un comfortab le positions.

JOY, JOY, the passerby was corrected

as he almost though t of a sking

old-timers

for the most dependable resturant

in P oetry City.

The gray clouds hung over something

beyond streetcorners

that evoked

what should have been d ocks,

but no river flowed or even

cut wet

between the semi-tall b uildings.

What s the best way in a nd out

of P oetry City?

Not by water o f course,there is none.

And the philosopher dried his throat .

Not by air

which compacts over the city whole

like a blan ket of foa m,

and the philosopher swallowed hard.

Not by rail,

for once

where streetcars cut electric slap paths

into the interiour

no w rest assured with lying wherever you find yourself.

And the ph ilosopher turned to d essert

which ha d been served first an yway

and mad e a smile out of h is mental m uscles.



31/154

You lo ok ha ppy,

claimed his companion and vanished.

Which on e of th em?

An a nswer was

shhh, forever.



32/154

25

THIN LANGUAGE

bark climb to the leaf

leaping serious.

World cover

a glo w window-no t

into the heart.

Sit comforta bly

til the room

tilts, back crack

of cerimonial verb

de-used

for filler.

Til a stuffed head

again

lifts suppprted

into super-chair.



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26

P OETRY MELTS language doesnt it?

The whip

applied on myself by myself.

Debat able pleasure maybe

but as I divide myself

hacked off parts

offered

in the hand.

Once

I made language remarkably agile.

Now the alpha betic display

turned on itself

its ikon soup, estranged voice

like a die-cut

semi-perfect apple of speech.

So I self tumble.

Lost restrain o f word pack

all trim at lasta language

peed out.

So many old fruits

non -tasted .

Piles and piles of ghost cards

pound ed, re-mad e reada ble.

The older word

ordered

into a vast

drum thump

like good to ngue oderwind flapped.

Idea b ut thickened

with h urt

turned again, word aga in

through iron-braced m ind.



34/154

27

TH E D EED of clout,

pure and missed

through potency.

Alas,

a full

space organ .



35/154

28

THE DARKNESS,

crystalized into faint noise

tra vels the streets,

hussels

turtle-like

under the electric spark of a deliberate music

heard or pressed gent ly into the eye.

Temples of such delicacy.

Forehead relics.

Streetcars return from dead years.

Leaves fall but then cho ose not to dan ce

but do dance

becau se wind is always present

and the dark balconies

conspire

remembering light from which they separate

absorbing all.

A moon hesitates

somewhere tha t falls not

into expectatant diner plates

or in to wa lkable shoe-shines

clean on dessert-pavement that moves.

But a bed-time circle is not yet tuned

and a night wave

crests without noise

pulling shadows into its specific glue.

Pigeons arran ge into gr ids of non -wind

and the invulnurable directionrests under a n odo r

stopped and imorta lized.



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29

H EART SWITCHED

but no storm comes

unblessed.

Wound to t ruth.

Fluid in uncover-myth

the eye mounts

into bite-long

trot.

Blood delivered

hold

flower pause

of b reath-seed.



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30

A STEAM HEART skids thro ugh streets,

a locomo tive of wind-flapped silk,

despond ency no n-possibile no w.

Newspaper devotees duck a collective head

into the door that shuts by opening.

A mix of words and wind

afford s travel hallucination

the better to unfold,

but wha ts to be seen

except from second floor balconies that tilt

toward n irvana corner I pass,

meaning I ha ve no claim to the specific facade

I can t see

because Im it.

The shadow is my arena.

The windparticle sliced into my eye

makes the entire street reflexive

so I get deposited

like gravey on pavement .

I too

rustle my engines

like a tin duck.



38/154

31

A MAN, t ilt hat ,

lets boo kstore windo ws slide

into veritable side-of-the-mouth

sweet-stuck

no-where but hair.

Vaseline pron e boo k frontage

Ready to dine on top.

Po mpado r soup-flat

into no n-read ab le slime

cleans the market of literature.

Whats left

shines

re-eatable after all.



39/154

32

H IS RIPT

fanciful d imension

over-ripe

enough fo r pleasure

trades equal

in departure of zonk.

Zip, the a ll time-tun e

of ants

rips into

jacket law.

Encasement

flows and gallons of

woosh-directives

a whole boy now

rise, glow

of the semi

solved.



40/154

33

WHAT WAS DEEP

circles itself

so tight

it slips up o n everything else.

Goodness

is what shadows exclaim.

Everything filled, everything aba ndo ned.

Free mo vement triumphs

surprising b ut soft

and windows

light again

turn within a signal.

Anima ls of n on -light

feeling friendly

hurry home.

Perfumed recollectionsdeposit a dim glow

as curtains drift,

lace still holding th e promise of penetration

never acted upon .

Sweetness fills even outsiders

all inside

the total imagining.



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34

VAST, underhanded

the loop

dedicated to outside talk.

But the butter tongue

leads

leashes

an d walls-word s

uncovered

to last

in dirt.

Free burried speech

so the one face

shines.

Lan guag e-wipe.



42/154

35

C ATHEDRAL

depth charge.

Brain crackers.

(Cathedra l, thats the term.)

A zone of practice.

The word opens,

as a vast whole

rings. Like a bell.



43/154

36

A TAXI spins

once too often

greasing the wallpaper.

Rose bloom

and humid supper

rink my tra vel.

Here I am.

I sleep.

The boulevard gets spider arms

so rotated

all a ctivity

muffin -baked b y speed

pours fast

into sky channels

sharp gr oving

the black light.



44/154

37

STREETS ACCOU NT

and the bomb of reason

treads

where the soft light

spits an d spins

mandolins and grace.

Thought forms under wraps

til the carpet piano

thuds also into idea.

Flesh filled duet

from the empty

double music.



45/154

38

I D like to give myself

a new language

which would pr ovide

instant happiness.

Speaking the words,

the sequences made available

by an unima ginable syntax,

Id be ha ppy just mouthing

the pro mise at least

of happiness.

The promise

so deliberate and exact,

as good as fulfilment,

but no t fulfilment

and yet

I like it.



46/154

39

TWIST shineable.

Out of wack

tran ce-treatment .

Prance

into the language that opts

beleagured, loadable,

flat, duck-of-it

similar

to itself.

Marked tota l

smartness.

Riftable.

(Do vent).



47/154

40

ANOTHER TIME

I might tell you about diamonds that fell out of the numbered dial of my

wrist wat ch

Anoth er time

I might circle how much to get please

out of a man who wants truth just to pour out of me.

O.K.

In the movie titled Filled Pockets

a man reaches a door

but hesitates a long time before turning the

knob.

Someone shouts thief

but never again is reference made to that moment.

The ma n h esitates at the d oor.

Ora nge light streams over h is face.

Blotch.

And the projector breaks.

You stand, a nd just at tha t momen t a light com es on.You a re a tta cked by man y.

A spider covers your face but nothing drains the intensity of light.

You fa ll, emptied into th e present.

Don t a sk for your mon ey back.

The aud ience has fled a nd you are bleeding

alone in the theater

searching for change.



48/154

41

A MELON rolls forward on glass feet.

Somebodys idea of a parade

pours from th e fulfilled resturant.

H eroes pounce,

forks for strolls.

The music

Speaker-wise

tears up a group of blackened faces

clutching the band stand simulacre.

Why me? cry us

as empat hy itself

swoops

forraging

in the dirty shirt.



49/154

42

H E APPROACHED

waffle

under the iron tongue

sizzle-talk,

under the word.

A boo m

full or up

not orientation-fault

but a gold

vein

blood tabled,

dinner sucked

de-languaged

by rote

with the teeth whirling

emphasis-sliced

as it-all.

Is someb od y really asleep?Already my eyes are heavy.

Requirements un-liftable,

he seems ready to wake up.

Boats able to reverse

bring da rk packages from infant mo uths.

A knee kissed and exposed

proves volume expendable

yet thirst

paces

and the window lam p makes veiled correspondence.

Flowers

glow under th e knife.



50/154

43

MUTANT,

liable to d isagreeable

flight

soft-up.

But the quip-solid

with it s axis-ment ality

dr ifts still

by a skew tha t

face-makes

of its direction on ly.

Skid-skew.

The ot herwords that

creases the bra in fold

of the whirl

all-done.



51/154

44

SO-ROADS

where lunch comes bright.

Double w-wood facad e

hauled by

slant light.

Slats munch lost

into deeper autumn.

Napkin pattern appetite

in wind.

Spoken dar t

using the same mout h

spoon spread.

Vocabulary twists from under

where taste

reins the eye.



52/154

45

Bowed

crest in me.

Violin m ud

much play twisted.

Muscle awake

but vast

when the arm

uncovers

new in revolve

the selfish skin a dvent

folded , re-fold ed

groan able flight-path.

Flat

violin pancakes

spun

from the bent arm

bubblingcollision into the fat face

launched

by a tongue

non-singable.



53/154

46

Cold, he twisted

a tho ught ikon-itself

down t o the very grain

now grafted.

Drift

each blossem

that fell deep

into the furnace.

Slice fused

blast flower

to a h urled out

zero degree

of accident

all midget night

owned and owner

of it self.



54/154

47

U TTERLY flat,

a plateau of sight

evolves the co agu late

fresh-stiff,

rends forthcomings

all ho t-heigh t

in the a rrowed seam of the eye.

Light gurgles in th e low throat

purple, finger-big

pressing on vision.

The t able flatten ed

by scan-weight,

seated night groaping

into all-white

gelatin vision.



55/154

48

A GALLOP

sliced til ho ves

cataloging th e rain street

porcelain laced

smallness its grace

framed not

by the green vine

tha t on ly flickers,

not itself

in yellow fillimen t.

Tot ter ing am p-snap

knocks

til teeth

separate a nd spread

rump furrow

all paste

on stone g lassy.



56/154

49

C ITY under airplanes

no plain truth on wide walls

entering through accident only.

And the city ambulence

white-maneuvers

like hurt straw

into th e shape tha t suits it best.

Heart shaped

pump of unreason

tha t spews

back into the street system

a pool of nourishment.

untouched.

Real food

unfath omab le as always.



57/154

50

KNIVES CUT

when the air is clear

and lemons

roll from plates

into th e tunneled streets.

The sinking trolly vanishes

past

or round a corner

or into d ust

as the O h yes

Ive been here

pulls sha des,

trembling

over the unfinished meal.

Run into t he street.

Roll with the ro und

yellow fruit

pouring from the brainthat slices

through neighborhoods

heat fixed

to th e skull

that falls.

A plate receives messages

a window re-transmits

and my eye

solid

builds me.



58/154

51

ROSE DOUBLE,

authen tic layered self

sweat-heaved in o rbit.

Sintilating heat no-heat:

sweet joined past multiple hurtles.

Rose whine curled

into go ld hea t-space.

Whif-drone,

non -ad hesive g lue flower

trembler.



59/154

52

I CAN IMAGINE

the committment to langauge.

Something

not expressed

but thunderous

as the world,

with holes

widening as fast

as the world widens.

Did he take me

to where I was

grey and soft

like an instinct inside ma tter?

The double revolve of two mental wheels

did echo th e spread of th at a ctivity.

So urban we were

doffed hats into th e whirl of winds

but I sankinto a direction that spoke.



60/154

53

H I S O WN H O NO R

not a n neglected aspect of himself

but a buckle

that shone.

A fly

decorating his own maneuvers through space

until the fly king said

Enough I ha ve seen

with m y seventeen eyes

and I sink

into th at very delight

sufficient.

His own trust

not a forgotten part of the repetoire

but somehow

what th e overkill of the emo tion

emptied.

A suitcasein a city hard to fathom.

His own fathomlessness

not a look in the wrong direction

but mirro r-like

a part of th e eaten

cake of responsibility that goes down sweet

in endless stomach upheavals

spreading whole pavements of catagor y

masq uarad ing as like and like-no t

whirling really

in all directions at once.



61/154

54

SADLY he spoke

fire-based

with feet

asphalt caressed.

Breaking tendern ess

rolled sweet

under particles of

day to day

chewed to

grass

like spun language h air.

Oh , he was a sweet one

and a disappointed one

and a lost, totally lost.

Look at the ha nd-tongue

shaking

in the long tunnel



62/154

55

REMARKABLE or not,

hewed to no form

but form

he did vast-reach

across the inch

of the finger.

The tiniest joint

balanced

like sea-blue

in the pin-eye

foam

of his whirling.

On the fifty-two year pivot

dro wn-fear float s

under the more noticable muscles

unavailable

by twist rath er than fact.

A fact

floats

remarkably

twist-high.



63/154

56

THE GEERS do mesh

but a sleep

undone by itself

drea med into d istan ce-lake

by which fish eye-trauma

caugh t on e-eyed on ly.

Pa ck reflective

like a beam t hinner

to make me-me-me

arise like a twist.

The lan guage

und one by its stitch-self

cuts

into do uble-joint

what eye-glue

spans

into

raw I was.



64/154

57

THE GREEN

tried apple bites

into a ll-over

but a branch

lifts, bites

into the outside star -self

where

grass only

I count fingers in flight.

Skies, bra nch es, spark gaps

of th e non -apple

refracted itself

fallen from n o branch

til a bite

speeds forth

the seed of happens

not-yet.



65/154

58

I KNOW things

and in the very center

a hole

brown-burrows

til the edge

unkept like light

speaks of its own

discovered drift

and that plate

edges

into complete

hurrah

whole again like a type

unbent.



66/154

59

EACH SPLIT separated

into a non-space

all frontal demand.

Skull in essence de-brewed

to drink unthought

the return fluid of a slow

triumph look-alike

panic sparking

the unt roubled hurt -not

of hurt kernal.



67/154

60

WONDERFUL

rag e-freed om

and the dawn drops

partial

against itself.

The flick of

tremendous round, calm

already tumbling

into pa st ice

gath ering up cold destinies.

Wit, but a word mo re

and the revolved crack

spread like fire trumpets

music of solid foot

pound ing a dust-effectual remark

making its own iced reflex.

Blanket enough to doto da ylight

whatever ousts

the maintained tremor

of spleen-beam

us.



68/154

61

P SYCHE OUT the shape

of a ll events expanding

because of the overlap on a point

added o ne by one.

Drift to the right

so if one counteracts the drift

time stops.

And the circle is penetrable

and the eye is the center

origin point

sees or is seen.

Nothing is there.

The eye self-enclosed

non -radiat ing

except circular,

on and throught itself.

Tight weavewhere tight means nothing.

The self-selfed

empty

a point now

all because one moved

against movement.



69/154

62

P EOPLE are in the streets.

Empty houses re-fill at no particular speed.

A lost love re-surfaces and is hewn from different oak

but born again

and all think of themselves as body

worn once

but now indelibly fixed in small private possession.

Street lights brighten before the storms occasional a rrival.

U mbrellas lift into h eretofore empty space

and the sawed bran ch evoked, breaks not

except yes

into a hundr ed small arms and legs that whirl

having been sawed

into no possible

otherwise

coming home.

Just like

In th e beginning.In the beginning

a deep sleep

dreamless.

No sleeper

on ly the sleep

fold into itself

from which a ma n of a certain age

rolled forward

into no time at all.

Rolled, rolled, rolled

and rolled, rolled

rolledrolledrolledrolledrolled.



70/154

63

C O ULD IT B E that I rose into d ifferent light?

Could it be tha t I lost interest in the to tal revolve of th e semi that called

itself circle?

Could it be tha t I toasted the second rat e, under the impression tha t

compassionate meant hero?

Do nt do ubt anything except the strata gically isolated,

cried my guard ian an gel.

and I was awake to that

just a little too soon.

Con fusion was no t MY recipe

but the angel of that persuasion capped a lifetime of energy

with a slow lift-off

into nam e th at tune-less

they all sang

so singable.

H ow be friends said the smileand I covered, of course, my own mout h first.

Cant you shine tooth light

into a grimace that hurts no one?

(It gains access through th e dreaming of more than

of o ccasional fa ctors.)

Funny

it was factories that aimed at the mamoth corrective operation.

None of it worked out but it sure mad e music

and that best noise

was the worst o f all po ssible word s.

A worst reha bilitation machinethats why Im MAD ABOUT MUSIC

chimed in a hell-of-a-lotta young thing s

who too k things off into n ose country.



71/154

I too , sloaped

I mean , slopped

into th e desert of life

which fools

you

me

but n ot everybody

who of course you recognized as one of my more

SUC CESSFUL d isguises.

So when you hea r on t he gra pe-vine

Big guy, your prize just got delivered!

don t even look.

Im a crook, about my own handywork.

So. fingers? Ouch!

Risk it, of course.

Its terrible,

but not really music.



72/154

64

YES, to th e vibrating finger

close to what s close.

Demon ically eat of gentle

direction and allow

all.

Notice how the voice

vowels the experien ce.

Thick falsity in fact.

Your fo cal fing er poin ts to itself

only by the n on -point

of tremor.



73/154

65

After many experiences

one came to an end.

It wasnt thinking that came forward.

It bounced

against itself.

It continued.

It ca lled itself

multiple bounce. A whole world.

Thats all it took

to ma ke a whole

world of trees

world of ideas

world of tables

world of rats

world o f skies

world of thinking itself

world of rivers

world of h ousesworld of laws

bounce

world of ideas

world of tra cks

world of farms

world of value systems

bounce

world of music

world of pies

world o f eye glasses

bounce

world of wars

world of bedsworld o f systems

world of blood

world of wind



74/154

world of everything else

bounce.

A certain fear

had not much to do with reality

until it got tasted.

It realized fear.

It could d o no wrong.

It d ressed in jewels

that blinded even itself

from lights elsewhere.

It prefered

blindness

and other affectations

of self dazzlement.

Through multiplication

it came upon

twice full of ad miration

saying to itself,

If this is fearit isnt b ad.

But who spoke

when that being

flew into the h eights of the room um brella

so the rain

could no t water rea l flowers?

It wanted to ma ke explosions

like the real

beautiful thing it was (no t).

The philosophers tableupside down

as always.



75/154

66

It didnt rain.

That was my own

wrist fa lling t hrough space

to slap aga inst

the tree that ta lked.

Look. Many of th ose trees

lining the road to the park

where burials alread y

made opera out of

previous a gression.

I did seizing the ha nd t o my right.

Tell more tim e, more time

and the fullness made o f itself

arrangements

so that an ordered world said

Hey, Im just a piece of the WORD.

With that for a foo t

start a nd circulatealmost reaching the starting point.

But a las

the door shut.



76/154

67

Noth ing. A twist

of the kernal of space

seeded me.

Nothing.

A non -ab eran t descent.

Twist

into the harmony of incompatable sources

all miles

from my telephone and brain.

Look, again I lost contact.

Giddy again

I dialed,

zero seed

into a vibrating flower

tha t said

Pa ss not

which was the code.



77/154

68

Soon, soon,

did he throw a hat in the air.

Soon, did a flutter

turn automa tic.

Soon, soon,

when a bar o f chocolate

and a bar of soap

were inter-changa ble

what got a bubble burst?

And

Soon, soon,

the place it fell to

was uncomforta ble delight.

So ro ll, twist,

the mind behind the mind

so th e grain irritant oyster

goes snap

at th e brain spark that lights up

MY whole world at least.

Roll, roll.

I got no ocean

in my ocean.

Space out

phases.

Pha se, phase.

don t get lost

eating you basis.

It goes out in a b ig circle,

loops back and says the tripple dipdips me, you

and everybody in goo d stuff.

When I stuff,



78/154

I say stuff,

more stuff.

Pha se it, pha se it.

Veronica came into my life

like a cyclone of plastic.

Who got o ff first?

Ha rd to say, but when I

stepped do wn from th e talk alot bus,

boy, was I hot.

Pha se it, phase it.

That means cool out th e whole planet.

Air- da le and more

my holes to vent

blocked up by the information

that wasnt Veronicas trip.

So my return ticket

stuck up

tickled me

and I couldn tphase it, phase it.

So instead I

phase it, phase it,

phase it all the time.

Pha se it.



79/154

69

No pearl

circle the tall tree

but h esitate.

Drink.

Hesitate.

And the electricity of the pause

vanishes

inside its own pause of thirst.

Then

a look which spreads wide

the white of the sky

enters so ma ny heads

from th e part d irectly over the bra in

that the words of exaultation

glisten

on a ll things

rising.

Counter-move

to th e slow driftof wooden

twilight.

Look, look toward the shadow.

Its no shadow.

Its the inside of light

already sleeping.

And the trees

man ufacture all purpose solutions

and me,

flying self poised

in the direction alread y givenby non -saying.



80/154

70

Un der water

risen aga in.

I float not

but obey.

So what sails

from me

is

utter wind.

That reach interiour

that th rough itself

only

courses in gold.



81/154

71

Misguided, a tribulation

all-offered .

A roaster for rides

de-marked to re-inject

start of population ad ventures

that made wheels

where a crowd died

under its individual plaint.

Soft into the self-selves

that swerved-like

only to the flick of moment consciousness

in-eyed a ll.



82/154

72

H is grey features

as a rolled-through city.

His dappled attention

provokes the lattace

of glimpsed vista-cuts

so into each bar-resturnant-cafe

the nostril like vortex

into which goes

the exploratory

wipe-out of swirled

body as stretched sleep.

I saw nothing

til now.

Its then.



83/154

73

The exp erience

rolled up

(it ha d time) (always time)

sweetens

into the unrecognizable

honey

that is always honey.

Um- strokes,

of the beaten wing

flying h ome.



84/154

74

Hopeful

he giant entered.

H e gave way

to tha t mist tha t covered the city

which was no city

but a co llection of no t-recollected d evices

long endured.

Hopeful

he no longer collected wha t h opefullness revealed

under the hour glass of so many missed

brown and gold hours

of despondency and effort

Hopeful

he flew.

But th e mist through which he circulated

did n ot cry City, I know your corners

your brilliant avenues

but I flap in your own b usy wind,stride like the idea of jeweled accomplishment.

Look how the joint of arm and leg

flash in the extention of multiple idea

made concrete from the accomplishment

that renders

the solid fact of each particular dream.

Hopeful

he lifts,

and cities choir into themselves.

Hopeful

he rides to his own end of the line

and half sleepis enough for to tal

sleep

which follows

in the mist.



85/154

75

G ratitude slips through the net.

Pile driver inertia blooms.

A certa in reg ister

un-pre thoug ht

but purcha sed

witnessed

slow disappearance.

In a city

no one speaks.

Search for the hotel.



86/154

76

Now let me pick up a hammer.

Now let me lift a sharp instrument which is really to be used on the to oth

except Ill use it on my own gold eye.

What?

G od s eye?

The one tha t sees thr ough d arkness becau se tha ts just imag inar y ad ven-

tures. The mo ment I turn the light on everything goes black.

I should have brought a tooth pick.

No, an ice pick.

It grow out of my head like a stalk of reality.

Look into th at h ole and you think you see yourself

but lo ok twiceits me.



87/154

77

They wanted me to build

but I refused.

They gave me a collection of motifs

and said b uild yourself a world

was it a world? I do nt think so.

A city maybe

or a single house

or n ot a house even but since a rea l storm is coming

a kind of minimal shelter only.

I r efused.

I refused on principal.

(O utside the rea l place

his longed for paradise did come

sooner than expectation.

A rare d imention

dreaming the leaf itself

eaten, tiredand the sky that rose

plate like,

uncooled by the other dimentions

he choose not.

But the not

one hundred times

in its fast oscilation

mad e each wall necessary aga in

til decoration flowered

and the main ha llucinating truth

repeated

into the real.)

Should I a llow the real.

Should I accomplish myself

or vanish into th e agreed on

happiness.



88/154

Should I duck for joy

when th e ho rizontal elevator displaces

not smiles, but the long light of an afternoon

wasted in discarded pleasure tha t plays back

all golden memories

because the achieved bride of self

does the circular da nce

tha t only real troupers know

as the harvest of what came

before anyone invented applause

to ruined that once and spontanious

nothing at all

happy.

Should I track.

Should I encore.

Should I toss off noth ing.

Should I count more than the accident It happened.

But it did.

Self-coun ted .



89/154

78

When the wall of time

is flat

directio ns are still possible into t he un i-direct ion

spread though the capable hand

tha t mocks not

its own elevated receptor.

It do es dive into the space of ra dical drift.

So time which is a tint on ly

(residue of the rea l swoop-color)

fades again into its own

pass-self.

And the ha nds

stretch to n o held

beat.



90/154

79

No a-oar

rowed up

but the lengthen

drift.

And all collections

de-formed

because it was inherent .

That was the form

known to itself

from th e great tra velled distance.

Small unimagined drift.

Dont think.

Here it is in the eye.

but dont notice.

Alonecircles it.



91/154

80

Is this langua ge

spoke flying?

It does

fly.

My face wiped

itself

with language.

Round

like a moving ro ck.



92/154

81

The t ruth

bends into existence.

Thats all right.

People topple

anyway.



93/154

82

There is no pu blic life.

Ripped from the walls are violins

Played but once.

And the wallpaper reforms

under the ga ze of the exhausted music lover.

Crossroads decide to sleep

and a violence unimagina ble

takes flight und er the eye of eyes

rooted in the bright

reflexive glow all dr ift.

Good for now.

Goo d for tomorrow.

A smile offered

slightly more th an remarkable.

Outsiders howl.

Insiders lift t heir skirts.

Dont doubt

everything is on the opposite side of expectation

and plunges so q uick

into the invisible quicksand of

Oh, this remark, that remark.

There. What I said was etched

in some kind of no n-refunda ble gold.



94/154

83

Self-calm

in the afternoon

his flar for excitement was objectified..

Sand wiches un-ate

and the began

re-wound

mad e him th ink himself whole

like non-clock time

the body

shirks.



95/154

84

Bund les of being.

He was that kind of hero.

A new plan for life

The refusal to make conn ection s.

What kind of explosion is the result?

My own self generating

gently.

And his han d flew multi-directio na l from th e wrist.

Brains

potatos

auras

sponges

planets.

Out of memory

he d rew bucketfulls of a lphabet n otes.

A different letter of the a lphabet

at the top of each note.Many ways to a rrange t hose notes

alphabetrical form producing on e arran gement.

Word s could be spelled using t hose letters

at the top of each page

arranging the sequence of notes

specific ways.

So as you see

I shall be vigorous

but lost.

A potato is in the mo uth.Feet bring one to the edge.

U pside down is a dilemma n on-contra dictory

so we lose our way and benifit.

All manifestation takes a powder.



96/154

Look cry lost children no longer lost

We got lost.

Such celebration.

So many potato s.

Such reunions and feastings

All of cour se under tot ally false premises.

Rapidly the abandoned fields

lose clo ud -cover.

Wha tever floral displays were con sidered

drift

into a dust that came from those skies

slowly

like ra in

though the speed was different

and no o ne considered it like speed.

Charted as it was

against a vertical direction that had no opposite

the word drift

was manifestingund er everybodys con sciousness.

Blest

lost

empty

and radient about the very whole thing

forever and forever

into the da rk pit.

Ho les in the a ir

ventelated

not the uncomfortable things

but th e untoucha ble because alwayspre-mature.

Always.



97/154

85

No belief was man ifest

in a ma jor way

but small isolated occasions

rose to the o ld music

a tired fist on ly.

The suburban drift

re-heavy with d eep fla ir

but it was a continuim really

and so

nobo dy got rea lly wet

and the d eepest pa rameters were spread like tactile butter,

Oh? I head him repeat

Tactile butter?

(A definitive, ouch .)

That suburban d rift

wasnt m y real homecoming.

I da sh itso that in the beyound I can accomodate

my real self.

Then, doning the uniform complete

here I am.

An I-star.



98/154

86

Caught, the iron

was re-hea ted.

Index-term,

the forma l agile property

of nom ad p-p-puffs

from which n on-spew

or not

a vapor fea st.

Loud claxon fruit

proof to its orbit

own-chewable

fever dropped

into the word-world

of this.



99/154

87

Twisted into comprehen sibility

he rose

to no occasion.

He smiled behind his various disguises

he kissed, a n explorator y good by

he lifted no han d in considerable intensity.

Now you know him.

H e spread h is fingers

to touch all shores of the personal.



100/154

88

Oh white raider.

Oh ash phonetics.

Speaker of hea rt scooped out.

Oh tall time master of the wrist,

spinner of height and depth

tho se two-twin acts of a d esperation n ot even conversent

with fluid dwellings

of th e sentim enta l lynch -pin.

I thro w now the key into th e deeper pit.

I spring no-locks

that braid in the h eads hair

like fireflies at n oon

sleeping so it appears

elsewhere.

But in fact

iced onto a larger dream,

vision an d to oth r emoved.

The gap, the fructifier!(Repeat after me.)



101/154

89

Capable, as always.

Risen that mea ns out of control

into masterful drift. Always

bu t

when an a- eye

blin ks eno ugh to a llow-in-all

should I be open to you too?

You also?

You b end in yourself

like a real tossed element

of total a gitation.

It s my desire.

Its my dream also.

Kill it I did t ry

but being OUT of myself wasrotten to the core.

Here I am again.



102/154

90

I cant complain

when I was already wet

before the downpour.

It to ok the STING

out of things.

How silly they did seem

with no mo re sting.

Stroll along

adm iring the flowers

and faint not

til the next squall you didnt name.

But you licked it good

for its elusive

sweetness



103/154

91

Everything continues as planned

then it doesnt.

So I just saw

vision.

Anoth er field of occurence

which lept at me

not sudden

not forcefully

no t in visibly

like a significan t

and drift like it did

drift.



104/154

92

No rea sons, he says,

and the delight was big.

A terrible wind

didnt collect much.

Memorabilia that didnt count.

Only high grade ore,

deliberate a nd positive

is something to fill your head .

But talking about hat s

internals hats show off

the color of t hese latent id eas.

Then, searching every mirror in town

you can be sure of winning

the last race

raced.

It superceeds all others

in slowness

so its won

like the colorful repetition

of everything

you forgot to think.



105/154

93

H is own feet

Im talking a bout myself of course

dance.

But I dont dance.

Then h ow come I tho ught of m y feet

blindly.

Did I really blind myself with my feet?

A rea lly

means Yes.

That s the thing ab out feet.

Look

as I

up them.



106/154

94

Speeding through

all necessary branches

whats gathered.

Fruits?

Oh n o, kisses.

Self to self.

The to ngue th at vibrates

in the real

hole of the self

like a ma d bee



107/154

95

It happened once

in the distan t street

convoluted here

by elevated railroads

that passed

deep through on stump legs.

Now when that memory is shaky

light cracks

like a pro-fun d-or y.

I pa ss my spelling o n

to tho se who ha ndle it better.

I just sit

stump still

on my future

into which

my sleep

is my disappearance.



108/154

96

Did a light strike?

Wear it int o a b etter resume.

They come upon me.

Nothing b ut sentences redeem me.

Such happiness.

Such tea.

Was it a clock tha t struck

light in the inner eye?

Better to make do

with what comes to hand

than something with h oles in it.

I am solid.

I ha ve a finger

in my own oriface of choice.

I see nothing.

Yes to th e eye.

Wait for the rain

but it didnt .

It was cold someplace else

and here

I sat.

What fell on my head

was wet

only in anticipation.

But anticipation is daughter

to inventionary though t.

Its here and when I say

its hereit goes.

Hello

am I here?

Of course



109/154

97

A remark sped

made it

bed un-flat.

But the bend skyward speech

ripe foam noise lift

of th e squashed flesh?

De-da nce

patterned flameouts.



110/154

98

Nightime. Did you

have something to say

to me?

A dish .

China leaves.

Cool

tob acco left-over

lamps on end.

Depth crackers.

To eat no -flakes

thats to die

cast in an iron life

porous enough.

Fragmen ts, d isguises,

one tablet

for on e eye

see-thru

holds.

Sleep into idea .

Wake in to meaning -not

but h oles.

Radient, alone

network acid

the calm

dance

all done.



111/154

99

H is own fist

lamented a s it turned

from the body

into a punchless space.

Kissed

winded (lost in fistify)

a hundred kisses

bawled at me.

He didn t expect I to roll

again into itself.

That a gran dized hollow

of a no n-spoken

could

elbow-turned

into the same-self

double.

Self and self

punch mowed

into de-effect

(all stress.)



112/154

100

Cont rolled by iron milk.

Steam dug.

Hea rt-not.

Milk-word tumbling

tongue in tongue

Xd by the subtle X

no -tun nel

but all-place

pricked

through the speaking no stril.

Blood

white in shock

now

stretched

rabid, rapid

through a tooth

timed into the bite

gaped by the siezed go ld

quote of time.

Stress-ache

under th e iron cause

that calms

nerve dat a

vast enough

to surface.

Dead eaten

into the system vector.

Usurped gulp.

G lare-pan cake itselfsleep-trundled

hoisted un -there

to-join.



113/154

101

The brea k.

The watered plant

full swollen

but trapped.

Tapped by th und er-inert.

Cared for

hand melted

under the gaze

popping out again.

Not doubt

but a now double leaf

extend ed into a so-glare

it-be.



114/154

102

We were a ll rigo r.

We were a ll alone

and the shine

half era sed

thereby seized us

til a cart

rumbling in the d ust

self engineered

re-wound

into the giant space

where all small occurances

re-coupled.

So much vast drift o f the m ulti-mind .

Look!

Im already into my coat!

Never out the door even

the wind

too much.

The little distractionsall the better unno ticed

you see.



115/154

103

The limited resource.

The pan el in the center of th e panel.

Closed noise

and all these circles

mine from an intense fist

tha t de-migra ted

the sense of self.

So blown,

a coun tryside non -slept

under the blanket

amazement in the h ead.

Wha t bird

flown gyro of please cold cracking

in the upper stories

of remarkable

globe-nose

smelling o ld stories only

from collapseshines

but go es.



116/154

104

X-not

stitched increase

plumbed ba ng

life turned magnet.

Inch-in-hand.

mouth dropped.

Brain prong

long fueled stretch

through a demand

of-no t see

the wide shelf

of souveniers.

Name glue

sweet saying-stiched.



117/154

105

At d awn

a street catapult

through the knife tha t misses:

cuts of rattle

layer on layer

ice

milked from the r ip-off

day

light like.

Whose eyes are those?

Whirled habitues

streamline

the seen-not ,

bled-lived

and a corner

rounds itself

to fold-up brightness

and crispededge

read s like a dr ift-sack

I cozy to.



118/154

106

Clocks sing

in th e brief street

with its twist

from light into

deep shado w.

Dust flecked fingers

flickers a walk

inside out

toward the face

of the transformed do or.

H ole into wider hole.

Mouth of self

not yet endured.



119/154

107

Misguided, a tribulation

all-offered.

A roaster for rides

de-marked

to re-inject

from the start of populations

adventures

that made wheels

where a crowd died

under each individual plaint.

Soft into the self-selves

tha t swerved

on ly to flicker,

in-eyed all.



120/154

108

The milimeter of so-so

all influx floated

mend s me all.

And a round

arbitrary

no-end-in-sight

stretches blan ks.

A thumb in the n ose

punching for life

into the flat brick

I-buildin g.

House of holes.



121/154

109

The stone walks

steps

uptil

th e n erve-ice

sucks on itself.

Pig-like in iron

coiled

tight as un-openable poison

later to destroy

by birth

the flung

hung into whose sky

light of stone

light of iron

light of br ightest

wind idea

gushed.

Heavy weight into noise.



122/154

110

Uncovered city three times.

Rebirth of straw

brain straw.

And th e iron thump

lightened by drift

whole measured und er the

laugh resistance

drugged into it s memory mouth.

The

speaks

alone.

Wind-words of the peace tunnel

that goes, tread sad

under th e lamp outside the fist

clasped in punch .

Each mindwhirled into another.

city.

Heaven self

towards bright stutter.

all wobbled

by the taut telling

of itself don e

in the slice of a street

that lifts

into t he ro ll of roofs, walls, three-part doors

that sink where the mind

smacks down the flatbed-trust

of a sleep.



123/154

111

Oh wild man

you

a light I b urn by.

Extinguishab le future

barren field

of pre-non housing in which

I cleanse myself.

Shall I vanish?

I sha ll. Tha t as my

escape.

That vanishing into

which o nly I believe.



124/154

112

(Eros 1):

Sometimes his own

adm iration basked

uncollared

in pure aether.

Colorless.

The fluid geometry twixt

rushed broth -mod ules

of well

administered

thumpings.



125/154

113

(Ero s 2)

The q uestionab le lady

de-relic-able

smitten

could all cold

factor-hide

the manip-u-late

of a random

rackum.

So I

tress-made

violence un der the roo f-like

path of footable

excess.

Nether-ward

the elbow flexed

of b eloved pre-bod ies

warm-log leg d id Ire-march

of a numb into mouth

that could mix

in-ebr iate

splay-ful me.

The rolling twist solid

of a com bine h um-whif.



126/154

114

(Ero s 3)

H is to hole-gra pled

satur-ology.

Misfruitful filled full

of a n in -sackable

pull.

His own stream like

toat

pre-vamped

from hectorate

of Dotch uss

invect

and

plac-ful

where it could

mar k well

what the

real smear

saturateun-comfo rt

abcess

of its

venture pron e

lily

same sung

lily.



127/154

115

(Ero s 4)

Pre-agulate

sniff

that drops into

rema rking nuff -said.

H ere to hector-fore

sawed into be-ha lf

of wa tsaid well-ford .

Bellied of b ald

his own d ither.

Wha t d im dis-

able effort

should h is maskul

master

but I made it

help, help, with h old

and else am I

re-else

through my orpheneddeep effort

self.



128/154

116

(Ero s 5)

All kept

all possible. Touched

deposits of (3 smacks) kisses.

All boy his in a runt

make rukus rump le.

But it so don t

so flipped it

was alert.

More gh astly vent

than catalogue.

H ip-roa r-unt new

an d vast-aga in.

A million so ren ew

his boyness be

bought in trembleness

true to pie.



129/154

117

(Ero s 6)

Boy-check marks

all pavement.

His hoofs-it himself.

(Speeding in air

glass catapu lt self

cleansed r emarkable doub le.

Street hate, a soft unpa ralleled

response.

3-layered town-me

unma rked except other

drenched longing light.

Criss-crossed buffered

that h eart warmed

by reach.

Pound now, squash radicalstrench ma laprop speeds

the warm soft arrow

into it.)

Obviously.



130/154

118

(Ero s 7)

Fulfilled. Nothing.

I vast wet

the appitite.

Drives wobble

from heat

and the heart

most ma kes

of its vestibule

a rock

hit deep

by wipes

of meaning.



131/154

119

(Ero s 8)

The world

gone granular.

Alas not

I wipe

eyes with eyes.

I taste

brain hooked

the spun ho use

carpeted.

Lost toys

in the fingers

multiple

like disappearing

locks.

Decorated thief

re-laidinto safe harbor

all-at-once.



132/154

120

The ca r turn s.

Ice breaks

in a head

of r oses.

The wheels multiply.

Prayer traffic

waffles

into the silver

of hand

forehead

body torque.

Double impress.

My own xd out

relocation.

eye-city

lived th rough.



133/154

121

Encoded in my words a word.

I stop speaking to speak.

A whole language falls

from the dead body.

Contesting my action an act

swivels the flesh.

Wha t rises?

The sun

twists

through the mobile window

on stairs.

Ho pe stretches but in the ga p

real desire

shivers

glass on gla ss

to de-penetr ate

th e sky.

Birds

boom

snowing into th e ear.

Second looks

snuff

the eye beam.

Blown from th e rose

all petals

re-group

in a word.



134/154

122

His annual report:

placed

on th e hit-tab le.

Trellis

for arbitrary daudle

mad e-matched .

Grove-loss

re-fingered

flip into

alto-adjust.

The rigid realm

you get

targeted in

by dirt.



135/154

123

Outside the face

the remarkable grimace

that bisected feeling

smothered

so th at being moved

was a ha rd blow.

Belief or non belief.

When feeling happened

it was

total vent

to ta l h ole-in-th e-world

growing

til the wa ll van ished

which meant

the h ole vanished.

Pure wind.



136/154

124

When tilted toward

forgettable space

the whole head

whirling for ba lance

idea plus blast

but blast stronger

sending the body

light-like

towards columns

multiplications

all trees

into the sigh-space

of the q uenched intelligence,

then and only then

seeds

seen like rain

puddle the whole arena

of the faceand the smile

smartens

the mutual control

that feeds on air.

And so

gestures

with the blind hand

shine.



137/154

125

Too o ften to q uote

he tottered

blanketed up to the neck

whereupon th e sharp eyes

torque into cement

and the stretched buffalo weight

pressed flat by itself

relic of dan ger

whiff of naught

he remo tes himself again

into th e true spin

and marks time

winning

always again

at numb ers.



138/154

126

After a day spend in tears who was able to benifit

from such long posponed business?

The drive past the abestos factory?

Pilles of white fiber

walls of white deat h.

bump-o-fied.

Night drawn.

Cat aracts of loss.

The tired tribes of time

that solidified.

Language as bed.

Tired head into a cupped

fistful

punching its way into the d eep:

forget me not

of the external

croaked circle of sound .

Bleached rump-let

long re-echoed q uakes

and I ran

home.

Here in the left or right ha nd

lifted to th e mouth

dry from prattle

he x-foamed

it into its easy-oppo site.

Xd into last place

where the lovelost its toe h old

on rea l estate

but the brunch

re-declaired

re-tarded



139/154

re-tract-trench

for food flows

backwards

mouth to brain

so words

formed like melons

behind the eyes

in a blink.

Tha t fa st.

Tha t super-an imated.

All solid .



140/154

127

The dawn rose in him.

The alternative language spoke in him.

He ceeded his own eyes.

He closes his mouth

forever

and stinks

out of which

a discovery was available

to others

yet not made.

This capacity of life in a pinhole

this brain too softened

by blows

swells

into the thing it tried to escape.

You n ame it.He cant.



141/154

128

Acts

tumble from head s

and hands

translate

from postures

of snow.

Migrant,

white flakes

now

into multiple kiss.

Backed-up

memory

the grimace

of effort

speeds

non -preferen talinto a pure

thrust

emptied.



142/154

129

When the grea t sun-mout h open s

I myself lose sleep over bright nothings.

I curl my fingers

over this sleep-idea.

I race.

I fall down from m y pant s.

I circulate like the crackers in a dry mouth

speaking with violence

about self-same subjects.

Nobody buys what I sell.

Here I go again

washed o ut

but brilliant enough to shine

in my own eyes.



143/154

130

Spoken re-flows

to me.

So built

so dead piles

of the swoon-wed

stick

words beat

with whisper

sweetness.

G estures cast

floor near

roll to self-usable

mud.



144/154

131

H is

ript

once

un-fled

to waved

specific.

The mount

all dread

by the word

that carcassed.



145/154

132

When a rough d uck

encounters

the sweet trespass

of self

then

only then

does the head

dipped

leave its print

on unkind

whimper-losses.

Red meat

too much animal

too much hit-potential

and a tooth

quacked by doubt

slivered the whole-gloss

of m ind-eyed X.

Mine

retouched by beauty

brief, alas

his own stor y

over-carcassed.



146/154

133

Against h ordes

he collected his

antenna.

Against weather

he dropped

a prepared suitcase.

Again st gra vity

he ripped

a sidewalk

dedicated

to brief flings.

Against you

he re-dreamed

a glass

micro-ton.

And himself

he drifted

like unfortun ate

iron.



147/154

134

Who bespeaks me?

The one who took off his glasses.

Say better was not th e idea.

The idea was

swim

in the swimable

non-plus.

Im upside-reverse

tha ts why an eye-chart

in the head

sinks

words

for the better.



148/154

135

The mouth

lifts light .

The word

turbulence

under ice

cracks

magic.

These fingers

this

arithmetic

of moods

under th e lip

where thunder

rolls

in speach holes

refilled.

blind.



149/154

136

When Im knocked

Im ill

but not ill.

Then I collected

the available hustle

and brief smiles

coat the toa ster

with heat

qualms.

Reluctant meals

re-dine

on their own

energy

now.

(All thisreally happened .)



150/154

137

The eye

sits in silence.

A derived God

shines me

all fluid.

A case

in p ieces.



151/154

138

Airplan es over th e city

til flowers drift

depth-fulcrumed

from built beauty

and the wing

beauten b y gold

no -sun collabo rat ion

height alone

as mind temperature.



152/154

139

Analogous to rhyme

he closed ha nds on a flower

and the root

lost

circled h is life

sweeteness

in a collapse

all told

under the great bell

of non -ad venture.

Ring ring

in th e lost syllable

of delight so tongued .

Reverse tortu re

smelling

of the fall.



153/154

140

I had

on or to the mind

roses

brain d rilled

hole entire

from which life

spins

echoing the rose

tha t lessens it grip

upon itself

to sweeten

into the age

tha t swells not

but drifts

on air

see thrua ble

thrust

into th e empty space

of its ownpungent

centerless.



154/154

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Richard Foreman - Slice