Buzzing Wire Vaguely Song

alright f-in tonight

Commerce and Capital.

all that cute bitch shit

When we meet
We always meet in Steve’s head.
I invite him over he says great
But has always forgotten something
Or remembered something
And so we are comfortable again
Inside his head.

A Lil Thing

Dan Pharo, King of Eygpt,
lives where motley is born.
The tackle of ornaments,
Mod yeatspeare gone.
And my line?
Fill a bucket with a hole.
Catches me on the corny.
On the weary.
Crowd dearer,
if I’m the solution,
what could the problem be.
We bleed our enemies
to give them their senses,
Dan Pharo said.

VIII. gasped down

A. away her breath

B. blew—me—up

C. panted the regular way

i. no the question

ii. he neither

iii. her see nor hear

the common strange

double duty

VII. But that for the rest
all alive very clock
over and begin

VI. I declare!

A. just like

lightly down

B. was to look

was to there, down

C. away as brightly

warm here, warmer

D. oh, what’ll

oh, whenme

oh, can’t

V. milk in there? Perhaps looking-milk

our four drawing room beyond

A. let’s pretend like gauze

That’s W.O.G. We say WOG—wrath of God

1. It’s a timespender—boyful thoughts

   1. The thoughts of youth are long thoughts

   2. The youth of thoughts are thoughts long

   3. And what else? Just long

2. Can’t else? Written: do not send me back to this world

3. Controler 8, we still have a Leo.

Reminds me of … Series X, 4

IV. all my ideas about the looking-glass the other way

unless our fires smoke like our books

III. just as if you understood

A. check! you purred among my pieces

i. half the things, kings and queens

B. I’ll be the rest

C. let’s pretend I’m a hungry hyena

i. and you’re a bone

D. let’s pretend you’re red,

i. arms folded, a model to imitate

ii. the kitten properly, good directly

The F-Shaped Whole of Swears

1. the dream of a bedwetter.

   1. figure 1: the jockstrap of death

      1. snarl, what’s a tangle?…ouch

   2. the mania of wealth is preservation

   3. figure 2: abrasive caffine whiskers

   4. thinking: kiss me, please don’t kiss me

   5. addendum (waking): Fat pants for Maria, Fat pants for Maria!

2. The figure of one, a bonaman

   1. I phoenix the birds…oh, burn!

   2. what’s the only argument for the same result?

   3. dear Sorry I’m blanking

3. I once went to prom with a Bill named Tom

   1. was like a Latin Zorro

   2. said: “fare thee asshole to the café spiders.”

   3. said: “pitting the ice, silver toe?”

   4. he wrote at my feet so I could read off my shoes.

   5. just say “Plumbago”

   6. now think carefully, is parking lots for parking lots?

4. Till the –oom and –oom find gl- and d-

   1. sama the goly host

   2. Greek, Greek, and more Greek

   3. her mouth was the f-shaped hole of swears

   4. say hello to my slobbering heart

   5. Can’chya

      1. con’chya

      2. won’tchya

      3. don’tchya

   6. No, I just said can’chya

I don’t care/don’t care (9)

flower of you with arrow offshot (8)

I make train the way I go (7)

those two talked, quiet on the blossom,
wise or not, of a blind spot (7)

I, error, I (6)

to gnoss is to know (6)

If you lack time, don’t (6)

I see here a trend
for the greatness you lack (6)

II. I wonder if the snow loves the trees and the fields

A. perhaps it says, go to sleep

i. dress in green

ii. whenever the wind

B. oh, that’s, cried Alice

i. dropping the ball to clap

No Sounds Where Fury

1. My colder self in duplication

   1. colder, longer, sleeper

      1. longer the deep

      2. longer the water spread wide

         1. i.i.i the vespertine

            i.i.ii the were-good

         i.i water and the water you don’t like

   2. colder as bluer as downer

      1. as a garden in fall

      2. as the blue spiral of K

         i.i. the animal skin hands

         i.ii. the rusting joints

What I Know About What I’m Seeing

I. I’m going to tell you all your faults

A. number one, you squeaked

B. number two, you pulled

C. number three, you unwound the worsted

that’s three faults, you’ve not been punished

Demonstrations 6, Litreview and Last News about the Little Box remind me of the Cantor Set.

Lives Appareled Yesterday

1. Billy-o-fusterless

   1. I was told to press the push to start

      1. wrote: the fall of every garden is man

      2. wrote: categories of error, propositions of doubt

2. Jessamin: erotic rigging

   1. Nothing is as Tim as Tim for Tim’s sake

3. Potamus

   1. A man with a preference for echo

      1. throws talk off the wall

      2. signs P

   2. Thata hava celtic disregard

There was one time we caught wind that Snevets was haunting some old industrial complex out off Back road. We took three cars of agents, twelve men in all. I warned the men about Snevets and split them into six teams. No use in having solo agents trying to track. Snevets is not your ordinary hunt and detain, and besides not one of them had more than 4 years on the force. We’d be lucky if we even sighted him. Everyone was miked and told to radio in their position. I sent them through the complex in teams, as I said. I kept watch by the gate, coordinating. It was dusk and the light was failing. The hangars around the place looked like great shadows, and the sky was assuming a darker and darker blue. I could see nothing, but the silhouette of a chain and the outline of the buildings. Snevets could be anywhere. Ten minutes had passed and no one had radioed in. I went to the car to get a thermos. Snevets! He was in one of the cars. I rushed towards the door, but heard the automatic locks engage. The keys were with one of the other agents. I spoke into my lapel. Snevets had the time it took the keys to return to effect his escape. The cabin overhead went on. I saw him comb through the elbow rest and glove compartment looking for paper, anything. He found the back of an unfinished report. My jaw tightened. His hand went into his sport coat and brought out a pen. I rested my body against one on the other cars. The keys would never make it back in time. All I could do was watch him write. I was too disappointed to yell anything through the window. By the time the man arrived with the keys, Snevets was no more than warm upholstery. I thought to myself how can he do all that with only a pen? I got the men back in the cars and headed back to the agency, to the cracks that awaited. Was Snevets trying to humiliate me?

Please consider revising Uncollected 14 Yes->No.

Snevets went around the house. We followed close, but not conspicuous. He was looking for a window, no doubt. Something to make it into the house by. “Make it into by” pay attention to the phrase. Snevets was wicked with phrases. We came around the corner in time to see his feet disappearing into the house. I said watch out, this is not like Snevets. Something must be up. At least we know he’s in the house. Spread out. Circle the place. You know the signal if he tries to break our perimeter. No mistakes on this one, we might not get this chance again. We waited for a long time. Snevets was going to make it hurt.

Dark came. I was circling the perimeter checking endurance. It was failing. Desperate, I snuck on to the porch. The house was lit inside–nobody in the front room. I decided to scale the porch to look into the second story windows. I’m old and tired. I swore at Snevets under my breath. His name was perfect to curse, and its language took over making it hard to climb. Looking in the second story window, I saw Snevets standing over a desk in a study. Under him was a small girl, no more than thirteen, writing. I saw Snevets’ mouth moving. He was dictating to her. The pencil looked enormous in her small hand. How long could they keep this up? We had been waiting for five hours. What were they writing? Neither of them looked tired. Snevets hadn’t even loosened his tie. He spoke slowly, and was spelling some of the words. I could see him mouth them a letter at a time. Knowing Snevets, this could go on a while. I was going to have to relieve the men.

Reminds me of Caveat to Aspiring Immortals 1

A Snevets story: any story in which the point of view is an investigating officer, and the protagonist, Snevets, is committing sinister crimes of composition. Peculiar to these pursuer/pursued stories is that the investigating officer never catches Snevets. At each cornering Snevets manages to write his way out of trouble. Also Snevets’ crimes of language are never made concrete–the exact nature of his transgression is never revealed.

Uncollected 5 has an undermuse

Lives Appareled Yesterday

1. Nipples faking forward

   1. a whale-full of ambergris

      1. pony erectus

   2. how’s that called?
      what many room?
      whatever.
      how…perfect?

   3. a pumpkin flower

   4. my hangtag says Love,
      park me.

2. Shot from canon to heaven

   1. a spit covered lark

   2. coup-loose a-cackle

   3. cherub being his practiced designation

3. The hunger results in a feeding

   1. that’s the monster of creativity, Frank

   2. we’ll put together an ego-team

   3. the pictures on the wall are aligned by gaze

   4. I’ve been the bedspring

      1. rat kiss her fangs in the morning

4. she cut her eyes crying

   1. lungs opening my ribs
      like an umbrella
      puffing at the rain
      one unit August evening

   2. here is my apartment dust bin and rubble

Essaying the Outline 5 made me search for…sandals of Jesus

Series X, 8 makes me say…

Triangles all the way down

Reminds me of…Series X, 1

Multi-Secret Delivery

1. Pretending common

   1. The direction of mishearing

   2. A dimension shared

   3. Hunt and goth

2. The national mast

   1. Made to render

   2. Decomposing expression

   3. Renewing servitude

3. Rent and bedpan

   1. Dust bin and rubble

   2. Differentiated

   3. The combo threat-promise

Reminds me of Collection of Oddities: The Hair-lo