NEWS / PACE –PLACE – PLACEBO / FOUR – FLOUR / LAD – GLADE / GRID / HUT / PAT –TRAP – TAPIR / MAT – TEAM / JUT / WOMAN / LAZY / BAIT / CHUTE /KITE / FORK / GOAD / ZEE / BARE / DIG – GAINED / ONYX / QUEEN / HEX
I dig the windscaly with kites, nonreactive
to its ownrefashioning. Not lazy per se, but nor
a team of one,needing no resources beyond itself.
Onyx baitedlight, gained a gleaming.
We gleaned fromnews our values—
the values puton us and put forward by.
A fork meetsflour if flour has met that which
begets dough.Eat et and. Hand to mouth
to mouth. I’velearned better than to tell you
how somethinglooks without first
looking to see.There are other ways. An otherwise.
Gaze-licked andgoaded, the queen flashed
the lad. His patbuttered her. A mat
lay like a patof butter on the hut’s crumbly floor.
The better togreet you. Excuse me,
may I replaceyour trap with a placebo?
May I tamperwith and redirect the hex?
To be ended aswith a zee, expectedly.
Bloody, bloody.Was the alphabet corralling
the way wordsformed with the alphabet are—
seek to be:woman, man, clothed,
bare, bear,tapir, etc. Four sighs struggled up
the chute of mythroat and settled
in the glade. Agator stood in for something,
jutted up like apalm of mud. A slick hand
makes a quartergo away. Absence heaved forth
fascination.Mood as placenta, nourishing a face.
We use this gridto know ourselves.
Pace from pointto point, then tinker
with hunkering.That where we are, there is!
DAY –DAILY / MAN – MAGNET / RAIN – DEBRAIN / TONE / HIRE – THRIVE/ SOY – YOGIS / MICE – CLIME – MALICE – CLAIMED / GNAT –GRANT – TEARING / POX / JUNE / BUSY / FOX / HAY – HAIRY / LAP –PLACE / WOK / LORD – ROILED / FOE – FORE – FORGE / JUNK / QUA/ WENT
Your maliceforged quite a foe
lapping at youfor debraining.
A junk lord wentman
on us, thrivedlike a magnet
in rain. Grantus a June
a wok wouldenvy.
May we be soybits
twice browned,our tenderness defected.
A conjunction nolonger roiled
the sentencesettled in
my mouth, thoughthe confession
did as a foxmight
securing a newhole
and establishedits hold
over an emptyplace.
At the fore ofour mice-days scattering
of us partingmore profoundly
than a biblicalsea
an umbilicalmyth nourishes
your largesse,and yogis seek you,
houser ofgnat-bodies in your syrupy cup.
If I lay out hayfor the dream to chew,
will it let meapproach it?
If you vote apox off the island,
will it seekvengeance and inscribe
itself in yourvery cave?
Your tone getsbusy with your meaning,
bares it. Inever claimed the hairy pew
of you forsitting. Gross. As a film grosses,
as a film offuzz hugs a thigh as
a breading hugs.It’s true, no one will
have (qua hire) me—not so much
biting astearing. We know the climes
we each prefer. Dailywe anticipate
hearing theother’s preference.