inches

Orphans
Rowdies

Payment
Femininity

Gandalf
Round

Blame
Loom




Energy that I expend on wistfulness is beginning to feel loud (stale, occluding, old).

I know that you are good for oceanic pampering.

William go to your place.
You are bossing a gram.

I have known that your pain makes rinsing off love cruel.


Central House -- bathtub in the winter -- steam rising from heated water.




There is no writhing here of water vapor lest it be from a pan or a cup.  It doesn't get cold enough.





I race the plaster ring.



Home began that epoch when Love was trapped in its own lope toward people's remnant of molting.






I have a few clues.

There is a place where our lives take me as trauma.

I reject life making me a plaster rope.



This knowledge makes me seek trees.
I know that certain words are recurring -- trees, e.g., -- these words are strengthening or focal in one way or another to my life.  I must unravel their relationship to the broader set of expressions so that they are not so compact that they are opaque.

Thank you very much -- I love expository prose.

Poet:

Floral hopes resemble dream
Which leads to rendering play free.

I am nowhere near giving my strength the dream of blessing.

I know:  dream, tree, amber.

The dream of the amber tree
Proceeded from the abeyance of self-censorship.

You who read this loud body of western strength:
Try to need your place.

At: Go(ld)al

Trash it for its dream of slipping on the mentor.

As far as it goes I read way too loudly.

You have made this goddess lace.

I am not the goddess, therefore, I plead with you to let go of blond fiend.


Priests gild the anger with placation.
I know you are far.

Down with oafs.
Up with sons.

You know this is going toward a reciprocal laughter -- I can pay you to justify your grappling with trees.

These discoveries of my unethical grounding/development scare me.

I was in the hospital again last night.
My chest pains were not serious enough to keep me past this morning.

I have been taking too much blood thinner.

I hate my doctor's lack of careful treatment.

So now I list open lore.

Moment here is moment's lever.
I laugh because I say floss is mental.


Drag your plane across the runway
I will be at the gate, soterior (what does that word mean?) reason for your poem.

Grant that moments make up life.


May all the force of Sandy expend itself without damage to my friends.

Algorithm for algae:  Glass.