The clock is dressed in drag, I m… space instead of its own proper as… but if it wore time, would… isn’t visibility an effect of transvestism, that shield pasti…

I examine my skin searching for the pore with EXIT

Who whispers here is forgotten. Saliva’s emptiest fruit adorns the stones, words ripening your mouth to a spoilation

The only response to a child’s grave is to lie down before it and play dea…

But if they’d give us toys and twi… parents splurge on the average kid… in fact, stacks wrapped with our n… the tree: these sparkling allotmen… guaranteed a lack of—what?—family?…

One day we notice that the sun needs feeding. Immediately a crash program begins: we fill ro… with wheat, smoke-rings, razorblad… after long aiming

Time, time, time, time, the clock vaccinates us. and then even that lacks prophylaxis. Ticktock-pockmarked, stricken

Poetry, you are an electric, a magic, field—like the space between a sleepwalker’s outheld ar…

Note: For 'or’ to free itself from ‘word,’ it must strain ('heave’) against the 'w’ and the 'd’ that enclose it. If, via this strenuous (perhaps squeamish) process, the meaning of 'or’...

Hair is heaven’s water flowing eer… Often a woman drifts off down her…

I don’t dare speak too loudly, some timbres could be fatal— that string is not too strong I think: and at times I have to breathe. Or maybe I fear

The taller the monument, the more… Look, look, a graveyard has fancy… Historians agree: this is the pebb… Every billboard is theoretically a… Mouth: the word’s exit-wound.

–to S. The light lay in shreds across the… only your waking could make it who… resuming its costume of day, its r… which seems to overnight get ragge…

All it takes is Laura Riding’s ri… crop across my butt, and I’m off: Git-up horsie she cries astride me… I crash sweetly onto the carpet. Boredom what an esthetic,