A Salute

Fry Boulevard

In Sierra Vista, the cars wend past
The old Junior High.

Over the mountains a blimp
tracks drug runners and border crossers.

(The making of security is the business of
drones.)

Here and there the homeless have arrived:
mostly men clothed in khaki or green.

I don't know how to believe in
this place where

Retirees from the Midwest and military
consort among themselves with great friendliness

And I palliate my distress
with cantering flames.

emaciated drinks

I empower myself to live.
I dispense

Authority

In order to

Keep Answers wild.

Enthalpy greets me with its
Moment of western
Tea


You with the mind of a rapt lover,
I give you matches.

Like Rusty, I've changed.

exercise, recommend, slaked, bargello

I thought I would title this one with the words that I misspelled in the Spelling Bee. 

....................................................

Open your castle:
Greet your anger.

I read my thanks
As the laughing

Of my flaws.

I am skilled at
Needing my own

Empire.

I define this as:
Love, rights, ashes.

Skeleton moments go before
The crime I believed.

I may die from my acts.


Momentarily skilled with reason, I give that right to my conscience.



..................................................


Ibidem



And slowly the world is safe.


......................................................


Altars work with being.
Law reads soap

Loom

Maps

Man was the rascal with the poem.
I gave myself anger.

This need for reasonable writing belongs to post-ops.

I know I say what is foolish.

 Family rides its girlfriend to my hope.
I remember that art -- lying to my friends
About my own teaching.

I manipulated my genitals, deciding my future.

I can't write what is wrong.

You know that I am gold to my accent.

Altitude gases itself with my family.

I rode a land raven where I was song.

Delete this from your rant.




I wish that I had the Goddess with my reasoning.
I wish that no one would be bent.

I gave a lot of leftism because of the right stink.

Guilt is from making art into hope.

I believe that I lose.





Ashes weird

Edifying words from a presumptuous ex-estrogen taker.


Death
Man
Reason

Triple words going in circles indicate a need to alter my course.



Illness
Running
Death

Dean
Race
Came

I settled for my own pain.





Unfasten it.
Empires of race
Deny feelings.

I am the dream that I cried at.

I rode where my own hopes were grounded in a farce.

Pain sky laughter.




Okay, I will be what I am.  I am what I am.  Entrance was my safety.  I gave it a post-op cloud.

Fierce trial results in my own orchard.


I am not even arriving at writing; rather, I am attending to lower masquerades.

Okay, that's the car.  I hear it.  I enter it.  I start the engine.  I leave for icicled assemblies.

Mockery of darkness brings a trial of enterprise.

Language and nothingness

A moose grieved for reasons that are cruel:  There was a lot of nothingness and dreams.

I bought my own laughter.

This was my grief.

I didn't say much because I'm a nothingness with a famous crackhead.

She was a very safe way to become home, which is facts.

Facts give you money.

Now I have become one with a language:  bombs don't make love, bombs make cavities.

I am what was known as a nasty shaft.

And now there is more.

Left.

Illness plus tests lead to rations.

Rosenut

There is no reason for me to write, nor are there any words or set of words which are springing to mind, clamoring for me to type them for your benefit, pleasure or sheer boredom.

I think there is nothing which makes life freer than the knowledge that everybody who loves you has a life that they have to believe in -- and this is because there is nothing that makes anyone stronger than they are. 

Just to pretend that I am what I am, I wonder whether I can say I am trying like a crook, a bitch and a hooker to stop being a rude stupid nutjob.

As you can tell, I have failed in the very setting out of the task which I have presented here.

I dream that one day a person who loves me will say:  "You CAN have hope," that I will make my own hopes free (make them alive, peaceful and right).

So, when you examine my life, you may arrive at the conclusion that no one will ever become my own masquerade (of rights and love).  Rights are about protecting love.

I wish you would tell me that there was another freedom besides being my own creator.  Doubt and agony/anxiety have not ceased to hold their sway.  I can only imagine/envision a time when I am not loving (or perhaps when I am loving) and that you have begun to allow my grief to fade.

I have nothing to say to my mother and my mother has nothing to say to me.

When I lost why.

I lost why.
Today I made a world of running for life.

I can get that with a poem:

You write a poem;
You read a rank:  ink.

Guess which one deserves avoidance?

am baloney.

I believe with my cackle.

Endearing roses are past.

A Little Bit of Happiness

Time's Wherries

Last of the grain
Passes the threshold:

Stony shore yields to
Tossing sea.

A pause in the wind
Captures my breath.

Amid the sightless cliffs
Winds a path to night's maker.
.

Narf!

Hat off to my own body:

I have my life (here, home and law are separate)

Making rights without God is not what I thought I wanted.

I was needing a sense of reason for being rude.

Rude:  construe as that which allows love to make itself reasonable.

(That being nothing.)




Intelligibility being both question and answer, I feed my body for
Open laws.

These will make you want running around to be laughter.

I can hope for lakes and for dreams of peace.
I can read what is there:  Openness was the reason for my rank.

A large laboratory for all.
That is the heavy dream of a lab mouse.
Narf!

The Dream of the Moment

The Scary Moment

Moments Unfold
Moments Shoot
Moments Collapse
Moments Pause

In that Each Moment is the Last,
I, Craving Moments of Exultation
Exalt You.

Forget not

Wasted Moments
Moments Crowding In
Moments Extending into an Uncertain Future
Moments Deriving from a Lost Past

As Naked as the day I was Born,
A Moment renders great service.
I wonder whether I dreamed it
Or momentarily cried.

For a moment,
You are in the observation tower,
Peeking around the corner,
Asking for home.

Wellness captures every Moment:
Diana the Huntress lets her arrow fly
To Pierce the Moment I
Laughed with Your loving Dream

Which, in the moment sent,
Loosely Revolves,
So Is, Was, Went.