As/Is







3.06.2007


"fleurs"--Prototext

I
Soliloquy’s Odessa’n beneficial broken out of
Subway sometimes / every time ran up magnetic comforts
Stationed there
And people have me / had me
Is running away from my own body odd?
Disjoint armatures border irony its vicious parentheticals
Obsessed with March’s unlikely spools demanding
Ornamentals
Warped stalks burnish dot coms chiseled by all out
Sequence effects aloha affects translation slowly
Boned hints stropt to metallic nuisances tumble down
Eventually a tooled mentation notes / observes / arranges
“fleurs” to flitted men / women / texts / contexts / eyes
Their kingdom flown against earth its offering of outrage
A ranting too calculated too homey for spice traders
And yet it’s “fleurs” they optimize at forces
Tens of thousands of bodies
Lit in normal-Dutch-zero-machined-largesse
Intimating x-rays opined by harbors’ sundry cods
Pseudo-ministers posed on fence posts
It’s as fantastic-science-waiting-on-tables that they wait
Seven wonders of bras traced in reversals
Elements’ as yet unspecified whirlpools of dictates
Accords’ diminished various ars poetica
Silent in notational cul-de-sacs
Houses narrow jut like jutting distant hearts
Equatorial
It was not a good day the eleventh
But roomed beneath the correct lives were new spaces
The right knives with the same fork and spoon





II
Verticality groped by “fleurs’” occasional condescension
Retroactive telephones heightened to plausible outcomes
Ring blunter blue guitars robbed at curbside decided
“Let's do the monkey”
Angled widths / breadths mistakenly golden
It has a singleness singing like dollarfish in church
But glee & who fled them expect to be fed
Ransomed for no whistle
Stranger linens iris entre nous above sea level
Shuttered heart-vials bomb-tomb’d ritual crucifixions
Each limned beforehand a counterfeit driven ballistic
Matters of shells is what we’re looking for, she explained
& went on “the daub of pallor” “torque of slender feelers”
My beliefs? Simple things, yes?
Quarried voices outdraw oddly all giddy abstraction
Tableaux’ inch worth of String Theory toppled by
Rubbled terrible defeats humanity & I am living thru
The one course slopes off
At frame’s edge a point of seven tangents seems elliptical
Jet-shaped as angst now deeper frgmnts due to meaning
Our canards’ estrangement in bistros
The ordeal is beautiful typography yes?
& yes, he coped ideally at first
Learned how not to unknot himself psychologically
Before rejecting himself scientifically
He altered himself pasted giant-hero labels upon himself
Reinvented by followers he missed them by minutes
When he died he changed is a fact it’s true
Articles unhinged his vision / revision of halos’ auroras
Still claim men in America love beautiful dogs?
Brown boxes in attics
Four horses shotgun us awfully negative in splendor
Barber shops map his masculinity’s dog-fetish for digging
Distant as wind cyber-masked by ZEROs