spiral of twin sycamores

rip-house tornado destroy path kevin is not god
but am person a person, as i am he is

a conglomeration of organic rubble, pinned to earth's flesh and kilter filtering through sewage drains with better made chip sliver cellophane

stoop, recollect, swing lower--
the last humans i whisper to your pillow who touched us
the humid air
, in each rumination
guts. chew, throw up in the throat

churning butter, whey and fat separation of two Siamese twins


open faucet, look a rock stone-on

and analyze. how opposite the landscape appears in your face lakes

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varnished opals
snap pea awake,
dilate. moth holes
muscle green light-

word. emergence
the deep seeded
soil phantoms pierce
the alarm birds

in oak crotch fling
shot cotton sky.
Rattles straighten me
absorption stone

stumbles down night,
hits. you. "go away!"
"wait, sway fro 'gain",
we wind, sun rose(s).

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four o' clock
finch cloud faint
storm alert

thick mud stuck
black earth with
spruce shadow

flailing arms
round your neck
not here. rain.

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Symphonic
afternoon,

vio-
la! Blooms

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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