Is it possible to reconcile the fathomless?
The spine shook straight from the funny papers?
The death of the onions growing on the carpets of the mathematical teachers?

Refrigerator magnet poem limitation in the sticking of bits of words lacking quite a lot of what one thinks one needs


Good stream which will surround you in the trees
Sacred cranking marble voice dark fish cloud color
Red fat cake almost the flying melon of my sacrifice
Could bring down my eyes
I am not like the vast universe but a prisoner living in a deep concrete hole
All my making
You must explore life or seep into decay
As a fool

Many hours of dream
erase the configuration of existing
in the brief moment of double ends
and I am ready for a reworking to posses
the next light

Red Fig Tea Ornamentation of the most beautiful subtle line.

For what I did best
and in the death of my dreaming
I have calculated
pressed out the lettering for sounds.
Sounds will remain
lullabies for jellied white bread colored moths
holding behind Juniper trees.
And tomorrow as all will be painted in new day
I will not wonder about silence
I will not sit over paper pad contemplating the context with which I will displace the white space.
I will not marvel at the temperament of Octopus oval brain hulking my attempts of escape.
It is so simply easy
to be demoralized
to be a victim of pattern stretched so thin
that nothing is left
but the remnants of delivery.