The matrix of ages lays waste to the streets
Runs guns out of Macy’s
Statistically
The Latin’s in ruins
Shoots off its mouth
A churl on infamous wig night
I swell among peonies
I dose my old image
A side dish of dada
Appears out of Lucite
*
A seventh lodestone angles at distance
The mind of a kilo
The language falls sideways
Toppled by lodestones
A rope round the yard
A lanyard on Hye St.
After all it is august
*
My shoes seem aware
My henchmen’re herons whose gonads
Speak ladders
*
I clamor
Insanely
I lack but
A doll’s head
I’m fluent
In water
*
Potato salad screen door follows antiquity
Singing of summer
& murder with dentures has long skinny arms
Sick little clues
I wonder whose
Nexus stands over there
Today I make tuna
Toasted up nicely
Dada’s a fire door
Open when closed
*
The outlaws ride west meaning dada’s poetics
Not water’s a bus
Grange & butte rise up past the moon dogs
Stop canvassing outlaws!
*
In Lawrence Ferlinghetti
One is a mirror
Sounding like joy
He shapes all the apples
Till one has a voice
I come & I go
Licking my chops
& still I won’t drink
The lake has no fish
do you remember these verses of Ferlinghetti, Raymond?
"...of this astounding life down here
and of the strange clowns in control of it"
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