THERE

Dad flew to Canada

There’s nothing to do now but kick it

Drinking cold milk scared

The birds there

Mary running the tap

A light goes on or comes off

That rock we like to read

Teeth enter the conversation

An odd cottage was once yonder

Past the trickle of smoke

Just mere steps before

The language of experience

Oh yes

I’ve set the clocks back

Then forward again

And just an inch the other way

Backwards seeming

Until begins

The chime of history

Repeatedly interrupted

Though glorious

In how it is forever

Until

I’ve set the clocks back

Tony’s here to arm wrestle

I am feeling very together

White noise approaches daily

Grandmothers love to call him “young man”

Other times I love

Populations that stare

Just now a banging wind

Perfect to speed up

My strength in the whistling contest

Losers are the ones who crack the eggs

Trees let out their busted thoughts

I judge ‘em!

Really change never has been worthwhile

As seen by a hangnail that keeps

On going on

What to do about unprecedented floods of feeling

It is my belief that

Best part of nature is finding small path

A mouth where everyone has the same name and I

Attend the gospel of whispering in my friend’s ear

While he swims frog-like

Then walk up to a building

I won’t say which building

Because only “good” can emerge

From such definition

I’d rather promote the spread of gossip

Which implies a jerky movement

Where one is always left French

As in, left out

As in, “I don’t understand”

Because one is, well, French

Or rather, the more immeasurable significance

Of looking

Which leads me to the conclusion that

A good clue is entirely absent from my life

Beyond this point

I’d like a show to go on!

THE RISE OF CONCRETE SOCIAL RESEARCH

Actually, I was especially qualified.

The realm I traversed

One can only describe as “scientifically banal.”

An elevator revealed itself as mirrored.

As task, I was split into two.

It was an odd paralysis.

Imagine some child orders 1,000 years of fireworks,

And when you expect the big explosion,

It briefly sees you.

‘Ideas,’ I said.

‘Oh, as for ideas –– ––’

‘Well,’ I hazarded, ‘as for ideas –– –– ?’

My knees buckled

In the gesture of aha.

‘Twas a hole in the ongoing boot.

I will show you the shape of my assessment.

The surface of rock like a thing recalled.

We are moving all the time.

It’s true.

WATER SIGNS

“Today I learned qualities”

Pleased that the snow was able to see inside all the homes

I had at last discovered the perfect cure and needed nothing more than water

The delayed record of my regret

I’m writing it all down here

Dirmit came to realize her father had been going downhill since the day he lost his hat

Then he launched into a lengthy explanation that the stars that glittered in the sky were in fact scaly

fish, that beneath the seas another world existed like this one and that human beings had sprung

from water and would return to it

Surely of itself and not

I listen wisely always

Counterpart to Blanqui’s view of the world: the universe is a site of lingering catastrophes

And, well, one must go through Intercourse to get to Paradise, PA

So there is a kind of belief in that which is no longer visible, tho things get dicey at night

Like melting ice traveling down the windshield is holy

It’s ants

Or, Heimlich: A mitten

Because I was working when the boy came up to me and said “social status is everything”

That was lowkey calm

Now, who’s Dirmit?

Such virtuality makes its force felt as intervention

In a time lost to feeling and some tide

You can read whole novels these days and not know that the characters drive cars to work every morning

So I become someone who fattens at the expense of a crisis

Unheimlich: A mitten with the thumb in the center of the palm

“Do I look to you to be correcting an approach to love?”

Distraction refers not to the inability to concentrate, to mere inattention per se

So we trek towards the untenable lake

It is a form of accomplishment rather than a failing

Go, I say, I cut my way - to the “baptysmal splash”

Where there’s a kid getting schooled in e-chess

The boy’s goal is a structure of quotation that will speak for itself

A concern with the peripheral

Or, Consistent intermittence

In the way I deploy a very strict discipline to leave the “G” halfway drunk

It is necessary to insist that I have the highest unity of spirit in mind

“It is”

Definition of an actor: disposable face

I have my light years, and they