EVE LUCKRING ant ant ant ant ant xiii

September 24, 2015 § Leave a comment

from Fifty-Three Divided by Seven or Eight

 

 
a zero sum coyote, probable rain ≥ attitude + eucalyptus

 

‹ itch relief. scavenging ≥ a candybar wrapper in scat

 

› a stranger blowing me kisses ≤ a stone’s hold

 

› unsystematically fluttering blackbirds but they’re not

 

› uninvited. a wasp lays eggs

 

close-captioned women who set themselves on fire

 

≥ a behavioral problem in the bathroom ≤ anti-

 

≥ a glance back ‹ their full upright and locked positions

 

≥ loosened for the ride › peaked. a heart with wings

 

dusk fallen down on her luck bags inside bags inside bags ≥

 

 

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August 30, 2015 § Leave a comment

the crow gives away all his buttons

 

 

 

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August 27, 2015 § Leave a comment

she says it’s soil not dirt dirt is dead

 

 

 

frontiers

August 11, 2015 § Leave a comment

on Pluto there are shapes we recognize

 

 

 

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July 26, 2015 § Leave a comment

only if you clean all her little jars

 

 

 

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July 16, 2015 § Leave a comment

old age it’s fish sticks and mayonnaise

 

 

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July 10, 2015 § Leave a comment

hornets cover the robin in the grass

 

 

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July 5, 2015 § Leave a comment

the red boat never been in the water

 

 

post-modern shit

July 2, 2015 § Leave a comment

even Rimbaud

‘s not obscure

he’s excrescent

 

 

 

 

ROBERT CREELEY ant ant ant ant ant one

June 13, 2014 § Leave a comment

 

FOR

 

Forget it,

man. It’s

over.

 

WHO KNOWS

 

Reading requests

for work’s

like working?

 

WHO

 

Underneath

there’s

more.

 

 

Where Am I?

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