#AmericanWriters
I made a fire; being tired Of the white fists of old Letters and their death rattle When I came too close to the wast… What did they know that I didn’t?
Stasis in darkness. Then the substanceless blue Pour of tor and distances. God’s lioness, How one we grow,
That grandiose colossus who Stood astride The envious assaults of sea (Essaying, wave by wave, Tide by tide,
The courage of the shut mouth, in… The line pink and quiet, a worm, b… There are black disks behind it, t… And the outrage of a sky, the line… The disks revolve, they ask to be…
The horizons ring me like faggots, Tilted and disparate, and always u… Touched by a match, they might war… And their fine lines singe The air to orange
I can taste the tin of the sky ——t… Winter dawn is the color of metal, The trees stiffen into place like… All night I have dreamed of destr… An assembly—line of cut throats, a…
Summer grows old, cold—blooded mot… The insects are scant, skinny. In these palustral homes we only Croak and wither. Mornings dissipate in somnolence.
On storm—struck deck, wind sirens… With each tilt, shock and shudder,… Cleaves forward into fury; dark as… Waves wallop, assaulting the stubb… Flayed by spray, we take the chall…
Soliloquy Of The Solipsist I? I walk alone; The midnight street Spins itself from under my feet;
You will be aware of an absence, p… Growing beside you, like a tree, A death tree, color gone, an Aust… Balding, gelded by lightning—an il… And a sky like a pig’s backside, a…
A garden of mouthings. Purple, sc… The great corollas dilate, peeling… Their musk encroaches, circle afte… A well of scents almost too dense… Hieratical in your frock coat, mae…
The smile of iceboxes annihilates… Such blue currents in the veins of… I hear her great heart purr. From her lips ampersands and perce… Exit like kisses.
You bring me good news from the cl… Whipping off your silk scarf, exhi… Mummy—cloths, smiling: I’m all ri… When I was nine, a lime—green ane… Fed me banana gas through a frog—m…
I ordered this, clean wood box Square as a chair and almost too h… I would say it was the coffin of a… Or a square baby Were there not such a din in it.