Monday, April 03, 2006

into last spring
(from "sequence")

back; this is just to say

a market farm of plums; this is to repeat
returning

why to go there; nothing new
& nothing changed

I am breakaway, speeds
& warped cosmology

if I was debris; to collide
into a body blonde

explosive, would be

a character of scored flesh; in
the centre human

so much of this feeling has consequence

this is an attempt to break
this is another failure

birds & still more; suddenly

how can you be building me a burn

you are silhouette, outside
& never ending

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