2 superscript 3

Symphonic
afternoon,

vio-
la! Blooms

1superscript 3

cube

plain language

on overdrive.
dinners
scrub the kitchen
kiss stupid poems
exist in my matter
what matters?

a naked twin
twist into photo ghost
the I becomes who?

i frighten to look
a myself

embarrass blushed

talk to no.

filter off non-sense

nothing falls out the round
stick bic

"i should not blame you
pen," only personal
shortfall. i am

afraid to dig at the moment

birds announce
the rain's end

for an hour, greenest stuff on
earth's rug is right

hear pitch holler
high pitch higher,

like the world nothing is as senseless a word as like.

my experience is all.
raw rain straw mulching the gracious grasses

tulips bloom a crimson spade
humid me

rising and falling with the barometer

pendulum; free swinging in a defined space

rain and a thunder train but no lightning to whiten chew chew .

woohoohang on a swinging clothes line

winter-----spring
lime chartreuse pistachio patch of cotton puff white too on the asphalt
my car in another rectangle reflector.

huge mist tree no see no children on the park streets
only sprigs of grasses reclaim concrete

bent buds

warning red and blur


lights tangle glow green in the grass, a sky.
sketchy lines onto the fading fast memory

4 amaryllis blooms pink and the non scent of white flowering
out the door.

a not bad today's shade shower

luminescent incessant twisted air our lungs twine
the open of lamps and eyeshades

awake i feel good thus
thud

water war wintergreen snow.

to heal the wound in the room the sky is looking up

others i keep in my vision are not. but

voice boxes unattached to bodies. chattering me silly. whirlwind and the train again

excitement in daffodil
a retarded yellow

i record

spinning for no good
i exchange one pair of dirty jeans for another. broken record skipping through a cold house,

nothing means
even the genius who write the bible

babble in places no sensed comprehension of multitudinous interpretations

rain and thunder train

rumble ramble

what grounds the ground?

the apex of my poem. a stabilizing thought of god
some third eye it
from esoteric congeries.


This is ungrounded, the wind swung wires flaming into air grass

then a crew in a white truck come to fix
the power outage did not effect the light of my world

instead one day into another day
long phrases of similar cadence

a plastic cube

drizzles slop from eves leaving linear imprints in mud
gray as sunrises in blinded window

pains of living
turn full at tilt

midnight into out
walls superscript 3 dimensions of 5

6 murky puddles in tell s ect


2
aspens 2 oaks branch rigid, brittle color
leaking sky into the narrow road

a vast river overwhelms
my interior island


7
is a number outside the cube.

unless, i consider the infinitereflect beams

and imagine therein an odd-shaped lucky encounter.


8 old selves pile in right corners

one is violent
another gardens violets
me foreign grapple easyover words
I mother wait
5 hides a child in a pink tent. her brother's belt
6 an adult
7 fetus again
8 why did i come?

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plasticteeth glare in a white plasticlight

tv taught me
buy.

car of plastic, runs on pre-plastic.
tin cans,
glass bottles
each plastic labled,
ajax, joy, lisol, and tampax,
plastify my touches




i play house. kitchen
is toy food

shipped in plastic boxes with plastic tape in plastic trucks. fertilized with then sprayed to
no grow wild flowers, only wheatthins
sprouted on plastic stalks
dull in the sun.

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my roommate glows

the white screen yells her to buy bounty.

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an amount of money or other reward offered by an organization for the capture of a person or thing

the corporation shrink wraps people

a fair trade: you give me plastic
for the capture of my brain

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hell p me
plastic'sallisee
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what will become

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of me if i shake free?

quest (ion) impossitive

there thingd to discover even insid the plexiglass cuble. how it is. infinite ricochet shifts small inlight.

its night I mourn the loss of daylute formy eyesarent good inthid quality of glow
ohell
the moment is food for any insight

in sight:
headlights on Moran turn this way, away
fromgreen spot flooding the corner house
my own freelection superimposed upon the naybur's
oranfe curtain. hung sideaways om haste
to keep my rubber eyes from bouncing into the family
doing naked things

not interested. eyes are a tired inn
struments
nasal of cilia eaten away in toxic fire retardant cyanide
ears? buzzing or my nerves coffee
sounds opaque, a blanket of appetite
shuts off the fridge

airplane engine is screaming wind
skids a tire

invisible on ice

i wake swerving up
i sleep again
water fills my car
sinks

i live,
you?

distracted by sense
dreamless into sleep

Here Stands a Cube

high on s windy hill
s plexiglass sixside windoq witha gurl inside. outside oon z hill a protection
warplane
not protection warplane warplane and tanks and big orange bombs. children in the nice school draw a picture.
the hill covered black with red flaring missiles
i no see the cube beyond the chared prairie grasses my home is
the nice children live in big
they can not imagine athe smallness of "once was home"
he crayoned purple hills under all the missiles, the land was purple!
i told the little boy that his fantasy lives
bombs bomb. otherboys,
other as is
other is far
anotherland
............
filled eyescape, running circular the parameter inside cube madining
panorama of the 6 sides defunct joint 4 reflect 2 slabs of oil reflecting slippery
rain as bombs run
this is a sick imagining
thaat bombs fall on vacant land