D. A. LEVY ant ant ant ant ant five
October 26, 2011 § Leave a comment
Brief Insurgencies
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spanish fly candy
night broken by sniper fire
in the mirror sand
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a good piece of ass
drink ceremonial wine
renaissance space ship
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blue hair in the wind
we pretend is living now
people on welfare
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trembling neon thighs
into the polluted air
death ship restaurant
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no glasses needed
a vow to enter them all
damage chromosomes
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the tribute of skins
temple festivals take place
an outlaw there too
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ordinary death
an air conditioned salesroom
you are impotent
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go make a movie
grotesque costumes and head masks
can i have ten grand?
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benevolent herb
designated in yellow
and the telepath
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morning glory seeds
not good in extension zones
city within me
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and a scorpion
jacking off to commercials
the words of power
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underground traffic
the giant painless movie
phenobarbital
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as soft as the trees
in the sacred galleries
invisible horns
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try to become that
becoming invisible
we hate each other
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an instant nova
it’s a cheaper brand of light
painted voyages
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hello astronaut
your peasant intuition
doors in the forehead
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lines of flesh exposed
the aliens are stealing
springs tattooed on her
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the anemic church
h-bomb your mind library
28 flavors?
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slip away again
an electric circus world
on toilet paper
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no space no distance
records which they set afire
to be greek this year
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next 5000 years
to eat the television
a handful of words
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in your boredom
no light and the eye opens
anonymous check
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nibble at my fly
rapid transit matador
a piece of wild grass
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know the difference
the bull’s ear later in bed
twigs floating on top
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all the sick murders
amphetamine ego trips
cyprus tree and sand
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police say hello
his dinner from the gutter
cold sky of the north
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you can be blown up
creating louder noises
you are located
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cure of obsession
read alice in wonderland
five eyes opening
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price of children drops
the red dragon is being
with your wounds the dance
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a very fine piece
i remember rowed by death
sun called many names
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TOMIZAWA KAKIO by HIROAKI SATO ant ant ant ant ant five
October 13, 2011 § Leave a comment
Scenery In Green Flames
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Cold thunder a single fish slaps heaven
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To cross the strait something vermillion stirs
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Soughing out of my lung a blue butterfly’s wings
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The day honey overflows in bee hives its heaviness
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The shadow merely the migrant birds above the salt lake
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The light turned off oh the heaviness of mercury
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When the snow falls the snow falls quietly nude
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The night the snow accumulates I become a deep-sea fish
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In the evening wind both horse and woman are in the wind
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Night the moon falls I live in the shadow of leaves
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Night the rain smolders I remain closed with petals
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Camellias fall oh this lukewarm midday fire
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Day of pollen the birds do not have breasts I see
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Chickens mate and the sun’s letting mud drip
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Swaying geese come scenery in green flames
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I turn into a snake a drop of water taking a walk
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A butterfly glistening glistening and I darken
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Away in the yellow wind they strip a house duck naked
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Right in the middle of autumn wind a blue shell hole
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Torn clouds here on earth are 15-centimeter howitzers
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Autumn deep clanking our canteens we eat
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Dead ahead clouds glittering forced to cross a river
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There getting wet rain-red is a hand grenade
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Night bandage smudges with blood geese fly honking
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The trench’s belly blood-red in undulating rains
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In the blue sky I hammer a nail that makes a piercing sound
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Deep in my ears I hide a single red machine gun
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Gluing themselves to my retina are mud and muck
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Deep in my chest a gray gun carriage overturns
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I close my eyes and in the void a black horse prances
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ELLIS AVERY ant ant ant ant ant eight
October 4, 2011 § 2 Comments
Latched With A Leek Leaf
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tiny morning glories
piled up on each other
blooming and dying
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my feet like breasts
vulnerable and useless
but less decorative
:
on the subway I smell
someone peeling an orange
ten yards away
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cozily dwarfed
by a wall
of lush moonflowers
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menstruating
I stare at pictures
of our dead cat
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caressing her own neck
with the back
of a spoon
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brick wall broken
by fire escapes
on one a lawn gnome
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the dentist takes a mold
cold pink cement crumbs
dribble down my bra
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falling thickly
a flock of sycamore leaves
at night I catch one
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window gingko
last leaf gone
last night I dreamed of cats
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Sunday
on the park railing
someone’s black thong
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vegetable stall
cupboard
latched with a leek leaf
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Saint Mark’s Place
crowded with drunken
Santas
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nightfall all the mirrors
for sale on the sidewalk
offer blue blue
:
at the drugstore
balling used tinsel
into the trash
:
on the sidewalk
a dozen spilled white buttons
all sizes
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morning
snow melts faster
on the north side of the street
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early daffodils
jaunty
in the cold
:
Monday afternoon
on the church steps
fixing her little girl’s hair
:
all in one night
the forsythia rolled in
loud and chatty
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not recognizing
my friend
on the corner
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they’ve struck all
their blue-tipped matches
last week’s azalea buds
:
alone at night
in the new dress I made
eating Thai food
:
grown too fast
the oak leaves
their splayed tongues
:
on the hotel
comment card
a dead bug
:
in a white dress
she crosses the street
bearing one lettuce
:
orange extension cord
snakes up a tree
lighting nothing
:
washing
an egg-shaped stone
with dewy grass
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floating glint of metal
in the gingko tree
one of my hairs
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the morning glories
gain the second floor
half a million dead in Iraq
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JOHN MARTONE ant ant ant ant ant eight
October 4, 2011 § Leave a comment
Longer Arms After Picking Tomatoes
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in that blue shirt
fallen scarecrow
could be me
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some pebbles
& some knotted cord
to show for these days
:
rained on
just like
white pines
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snail shell left
a thumbprint
in mud
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snow brought
a lot
of light
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his room
a shoebox
diorama
:
in time
you’ll fit in
snail shell
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there’s no one else
to gather
these walnuts
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footbridge
where there’s
no one
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white roses
falling
apart
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the white rosebush
doesn’t
need me
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in pine shade
my front steps
collapsing
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cucumbers
climbing
sunflowers
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chicken wire
encircling pink
lady’s slippers
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door frame
fallen
in mint
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sparrow
watching me
drink
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watering pines
brings robins
& wasps
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gourd vine
sharing this line
with laundry
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every starling
in that tree
faces west
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seed packet’s
lunar white
inside
:
my face
towel’s
frayed
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my neighbor’s
two chimneys
don’t fall
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green shack
sinking into
weeds
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longer arms
after picking
tomatoes
:
every seed
in seed packet’s
fold
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all this time
carrots’ve been
hiding
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a stranger
where garden’s
overgrown
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suddenly
he sees it’s
a slum
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come home
to 3 fireflies
at my door
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tomato bush
tall enough
to hide me
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PAUL M. ant ant ant ant ant eight
October 3, 2011 § Leave a comment
A Fox Who Knows Too Many Tricks
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Indian Summer
a stick twisted to keep
the spider upright
:
rehearsing a lie
the orange brilliance
of a poppy field
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explaining again
our two homes
snow drifts
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gray salamander
a childhood creek
through my fingers
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orange blossoms
years since I’ve been
bare-chested under the sun
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crunch of dried leaves
I am a fox who knows
too many tricks
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old steel town
snow heaped
beside the road
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pebbled beach
she turns away
to breastfeed
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snow begins to fall
the inappropriate things
she says sometimes
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paper white bulbs
the faint moon
in my thumbnail
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red oak leaves
a couple married late in life
holding hands
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moon just full
who drives
my old car now?
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snow-covered garden
a mental note
to wire money
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weekend alone
I lift the ficus
into a larger pot
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hoar frost
the old corner
with unmarked graves
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stairs down to the sea
a dandelion
with seeds intact
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tidal silt
the airport’s wind sock
blowing the other way
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long week’s end
a hint of red
in the pickleweed
:
too late to pull it out
the white rump
of a clapper rail
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billion year old moon
an outgoing wave
reveals sand crab holes
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beads of pond water
on a lily pad
the impossibility of sunup
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called home
first crinkled leaves
on the maple tree
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commuter station
a bee lingers
in the tickweed
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rain to the north
a loose rung
on the lookout tower
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office window
they say no two snowflakes
are the same
:
all these years later
the same pine bough
wet with rain
:
irregular frame
of a tree fort
chimney smoke
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returning geese
her ashes still
in the plain tin
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our old field
each step
releases cabbage whites
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spring morning
flies return
to a crab carcass
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GUY R. BEINING ant ant ant ant ant six
October 3, 2011 § Leave a comment
The Back Streets Of A Snail
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billboards
pinned to the sleeve
of the highway
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we of one market
one leaf one fruit bin
await flies & rot
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washes whiter
in quiet of evening
dark creak of table
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bring me
the room of
a swollen number
:
in mock soup
& fan of turtle shell
sore-kneed Buddha
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offer pictures of mecca
while playing a dangerous
game of marbles
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bubbles that
hear flat skin of
sunfish
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heavy black glove
nearsighted & brusque a bee
breasts pressing mirror
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hand on
soiled number 9
paper off the roll
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order of night
a hyphenated thought
left in onion patch
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inhabit this
the back streets
of a snail
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gets you no further
from nature to circle
the tree in spanish
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white lips powders
space left by stars
fixer
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in glass rooms air
listens to itself covers
of light fall & fold
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a yellow ball from
the women in chairs opens
the crematory steps
:
draw space as maximum
silverware in her hair
& shells to eat with
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words burn
a cut above the spine
sitting on divan
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rush hours middays other
times black band around
the sky bright eyes
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the membrane falls
from a table of ferns
stock multi-bodied
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another charred
boat has left
the dock of dreams
:
open blossom or
bloom of voice
in insect light
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and invention
nefarious angles in
bitter snow drifts
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and long white wings
the estuary on
its dark toes
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a circle of mirrors
shut out the stars
people don’t know
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breath
the pin as ice pick
buying the night face
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colored sharpness
of wild card in
stenciled parlor car
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go toward
the buried side
of vision
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dire briefness of
lot pocket it even if
it blackens the soul
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the moon is not
a number it is a landfill
a gap in the eye
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on head of mountain
grievous we have maintained
a private clasp
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LEE GURGA ant ant ant ant ant six
October 3, 2011 § Leave a comment
Adjust The Dimmer
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:
milkweed flowers as seen on national tv
:
dollar not quite as green as the katydid
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an empty beach on the island spring
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tax day outside the post office wild plum scent
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leaves of grass something sticky on the cover
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93 million miles past the adult book store spring sunset
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spiderwort in bloom “i love you” note in the wrong envelope
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phone ringing in the dead of night a cloud of skippers
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white sand beach i fill my pockets then empty them
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after lovemaking rhubarb tarts
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just a piece of wing on the dusty road painted lady
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empty thong where i wonder who
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white chrysalis of salt on the kitchen table
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scent from the letter i adjust the dimmer
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after church a butterfly explodes on the windshield
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night rain putting on my good underwear
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forgotten today by the one true god autumn mosquito
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hardware store smell of gun oil and donuts
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the virgin mary floodwater up to her thighs
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motionless in the wind galvanized sheets bent by the wind
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brought an umbrella for once but didn’t need it
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one yellow dandelion one autumn butterfly
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day of the dead there goes my skirt
:
a red plastic whistle in the withered grass
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drifting snow a pair of blue jays in the treetop
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winter solstice careful not to touch my sleeping wife
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farther than the amtrak whistle stubblefields
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the man who never married doesn’t watch
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powdered snow sifts across the county blacktop
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from time to time the dog catches up
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