In any event {William

the carnival

hit
a

slough spot today
no goose eyed Marks
splinter heads have thrombosis eyes for the peep show



now then, tell me of the charlatan

the gift of fire prairie gab
salt water debutantes thirsting before the sea



























Civil thirst therapeutic
restraint swift double shift scent
Burberry sweat
introvert stubborn
feel forgets gives skeleton
give her dusk dipped
dug in commission
talk of face courtesy tilts seas metronome

Phebe what is a William?
brother what flash flood washes naught
stirs white crystal spiders
tied up hexagons
breath held electric dirt
not so old as speed
weather suitable to activity
bury towards yankee basement















Phebe platters wit

makes slow coffee
with tips of swinging fingers

not because Grant attacks Petersburg
rather


she knows the graze of blue cotton to blue cotton


to blue cotton

how one goes home alone goes

then

knowing soon


no
not like or as a tiger lily



:a: root
















~quahog, oyster, steamer, eel~



The rifle sings against her chin without sound against Marchs last snowfall.
Sand kicks up without notice blinding New York love birds much to early for
tourist season; simple as wind that will not buy a gift lifted upon a jilted shelf and
a tough tongue upon a stubborn childs plate. To say she is magic is to pluck the
reason out of a rose, or a milk bottle cold, sweating late swamp yankee summer
blood. What she is lifts my bones before muscles memory tear. I do not ask the
sea for reason. Neither how it is possible for mystery long upon her breast,
creator of my memory, keeper of subtle sweat scream undulating dreams.
quahog, oyster, steamer, eel.










|fi sh |



slow these feet waltz, fall, feel without that which calls
itself breath. ghost of a tree spill hunger toward and
bring inwards the warmth of several young soldiers
gossamer legs falling; their sight, howls within curdled
whimpers sing now and torn apart. William tugs his
bootstraps of mud. blood saints his lips as sacrament to
vein to tell the live to tear the filament from the suns
gracious rye dry. left eye pillow purple clefts the
Vermonters dry heave axe hack. the window of his right
savors Phebes left upper lifted lip; fresh thought upon
her lips. come here turn my upper lip. no, the trouble is
when he asked her for her breath never tender leaf she
dropped eyes frisky with lead to the left. what is your
story while we have lost light and dream saw through
balled hamstring. red vellum, blue lighting between
Virginias spring cherubim sun. his own wound a
purgatory of lolling grease fidgeting ancestors washed
upon stones cut into bridesmaids dimming dresses.
Thunder guilts and from head perpendicular the rain
feels as your 3am half slumber breath.











We tell you now where from which we came
We formed from sheets of carved recipe rain





There are sails set from only talk drunk and fallen trees

\


There are many holes in chests in which sympathetic
gods fill with distilled water



There are combinations, toothbrushes of fingerprints
soft water, beeswax and cousins hand as skillet
lukewarm with white














Before watching you eat fruit
Phebe sniffed your skin
flour as time

then you sang with watches on your lips:











though what dog has been presented
speaking to stars
dropping feet slowly in jest
This family
this long thought of one at a neck
a scent
left in cracks of flooring auburn hair




every time}






















If there was a wish it was already granted and if
there was a story it was already scorned
if I pretended theocracy or attempted agelessness
then grandeur assumed revolution against teeth fingertips for to pretend
to be greater than sound is silence

































Pilfered Pine Tar

gold. so much shiny metals for breaking fast, separating suns rise from fall, and dinners brief
celebration. pilfered so much as. the river, for the poet and pen sullen and driven warm with spirits, is
never humble. he is gone thrice to affront those that affront those that are dull and clinging upon his genus
and home. the home has been pulled from the river after springs flood. williams brother rebuilds the
outhouse and the ticks seek blood. this has little to do with someone with enough time to lay ears against
the doors of time. my tongue goes numb. my children scuff the hardwood you sand coughing cry. the
floor is wood; polish is vanity and for each scrub there is a closed guess and eye. tired. how can a face
hold up households of time famished ghosts so close within the blood of a similar heart. dont follow this
as my love lost. this is my love set full under a similar moon










































~Beds of salt and sage~

i both love and do not love, and am mad and am not mad
- Anacreon









There are four stars in this pore dry sky. William writes to Phebe of this. Of the stars, how he cannot
comprehend them yet this is all one of his song. A whisper among the Black Alder, Crab Apple and
Dogwood Gray. Lips coated with blood and mud. blood and mud night pushes its name with no slow
decay. He washes naught and his hand feels hairy and sooty with an impish gleam as the pen retraces
letters he never sends. As a ghost he knows his fullness a whisper against the colors to fly upon early
morning fogs parapet. There is no grace upon his thoughts, wet with 3AMs April due. There are four
stars dead light; laughter from the dead stars as oasis. blue chest bullet turned purple Prana to turn North
yet again to breathe the lust of southern air with its slow harsh pull without and within writhing. Ken ka
neen. You and I. Acwmuck notshem. I came over the water. Now nnehick nowsuonk. I have
forgotten my name. Show the children your feet under the water. How you pull the rocky skin apart under
Mays first sun salt pond and shirt salt heavy from Beef Islands wake to shore. Quahogs silver shaking the
inlets first cut of salt.


















speak my name as forest
of water


one syllable terrified of anothers granite tipped consonant
goose bump

gold silver flesh remember

the shore William
the seaward tipped eyes phebe

her green grass silhouettes
richer not that sight of thyme
imprint lower hip






as saw
as arm



as brass knuckles spill cloaked ink




as Phebe laughs with rabbit near short root blueberries
William a seagull waiting wings











We carve gods from earth
drink poison
from swing sets, here
there is no infinite precipice to calculate


Brother trembling

sinking
the gossamer of flesh as conversation
darkness between removing
articles of cotton
spittle to tongue
to lip ballet








fragment sentences
feather bowling ball grace



such
is animal
to floor





















A Substitute for Cream
-Take 2 or three whole eggs, beat them well up in a basin; then pour boiling hot tea over them; pour
gradually to prevent curdling.
It is difficult to distinguish it from rich cream





















Choice garnered strength from subject
warmed its teeth in turpentine
mixed drafts of unsatisfied bee honey
asked sarcastic between tug boat moan
there are no horses
to drag home
your sighs




restored as genus genius magician
castles filled with princes courting queens
mannerisms many refuse, speak quickly
soon render daylight in night


shiver shiver
wind full of dust settling
you asked for nectar
and I produced swarms of bees









now, tell the calvary we have seen hell from bootstraps














From Point Judith

irradiance. the soul is begging against my thumbs season cull and call. there were a few things Phebe {
} from William & vice. how to pull smile slow from my frozen left side. how to make moon
move from a docile state. a stubborn bastard, swamp yankee torn apart with salts first brackish eel glow.
before sleds pull across wolves ice. every kingdom has its start; claws to our green door. red tongue
blood lifts every tower down this so called lords palace. William is gone thrice from Pond St.s flood
door. pillow little left the comfort is no faith there is no wolf against canoe and maple birch. sparingly and
lazy lay to house pulled shoulder, bend in hand; give in ash the have and have not the building of
changing variety Phebe lifts her portions with the White Oaks fondness for sequoia and curve of twilight
wind compels characteristics of her childrens rate of growth what need for pine or swamp will till the
stereo of foreign ancestors skull, the stone of our growth tasting of seed & fresh bared rock. William
bends down before pawn with gold wrapped loose before fires smelted steam the box burns as do the
children under water. Red Oak. Black Oak. Scarlett Oak sift the coast and carry on with no flask of water
or of good oak which there is never enough to make cheap. I never falter before the water and that is a lie
more than a promise for which a waiting hour gives away without need for shelter.

























I am that field
upon which grows
the wheat of ankles and ghosts
sly remarks which scythe our hearts
and tend to pulp
a cherry blue cake










Sister,
there are owls in these woods
upon our heads pining,
grandfathers betwixt grandmothers
always looking at the water level










I am pleased
by these things






Fragments riddle stalk you us of concrete
There are many manuscripts none read, as storm is paintbrush







House of fell amputate
split lips
Circles under color
which sunlight and earth


Earth is absent of color
Though never lack of shape









{Popped corn, dipped in
Boiling molasses, stuck together
forms an excellent candy}

We are the poem
millstone
bludgeoned calvary
sleep wind assist, fertilization
taut with constant relocation







I do not know what shore youve swum from
Or origins coasts tied twine and line
What porch your mother cradled
Upon which later you ate suns, trees, beating full breasts grinning LSD
blood already dried breathless upon strange knuckles






now stop
tend lakes aroma
vicious is water and time
vicious is thorn and the implication of child
tended veins cowards used as fragrant tendrils
this is not
my place to speak
or trumpet among Phebe's bones

step in willows
dance uptrunk a plate for fireflies
hands
on
blue tutu grainy
fingers noisy bees













Wet leaves of winter tombs


We have much to say
One
Two
three


Methylenedioxymethamphetamine



















narration awkward days of horseback
breath upon ear
mountain of word
discordance rings bell
{sweet glass
Polynices in rapture cultures vain harmony

waits between




Carnivals sung gate
ticket take Liver tug
tug lever

stained hands in thrice sown pockets heavy with lead
stand aside William
three wings porcelain
stained purple pulls kneaded gold cord

Phebe looks straight
a planet pulsing root beer floats
silver spoons flattening tongues
queen of Johnny Cakes
feet
toes fleshy
feelers bounty
find of Quahogs




eyes recently grease vices
look down
oil on gum patches cracked concrete
look up
daughters with cotton candy dresses
fathers with opalescent whisky flask grins
mothers talking fast in slow summer afghan breeze
sons with wires twisting ear to pocket
faces capitalized handheld screen,





look past graph functionless idle staph
infection staff man with no wings
flash purple lipstick smile on methamphetamine coral bicuspids
velvet curtain closes
sashed golden knot reveal



photograph rain roars iris
admittance one
question oft mentioned man
for ticket prices
he speaks in colony tongues


rapid rabid cigarette much rhymes
Bronx Sphinxes mating
with San Diego Cheshires,
quotes Bukowski while stroking his prick


pulls out photographs of lovers fucking in paper
mch lines
pulls out popsicle stick sentences of port wine
blocks of language passerbys swat
angrily as bloated
iridescent flies pass
trespass







Penny machine baseball lever tug


tug lever
salt of Sodom graphing rockies,
foothills,
flatirons in summertime
round Boston red n blue B cap
Martinez fastballs clocking 89 miles per hour
His lockpick fingers callous
bleeding threads of doctored hardball
Mid summer fairground pitching strikes at the dunk tank
sipping nyquil

face shimmering oil plan platform





forgot intentions of ticket holder
holding the graph, which states

the girl will be dressed in pretty black lace
photographs permitted, at quarter past
-eight, for a price:
-Pack a menthols
-8 BOTTLES of nyquil
-Pair dentures fitted to these dimensions { }



I shrug
Turn
cock a fist
his coral teeth
pop crackle
harsh
swift as cellophane fish

There is no fog from shore to Beef Island
the cows are raising cries
stubborn feet, tongue, breath
she bites into the cold of her forearm
a cusp before cutting sound


then
looking straight ahead
a lesson asleep
body brackish to sea






























fabric chisels and waits New England November New Bedford
(all dead names)
died collar bone
blue with tie
a trap whispering crosswalk dream

again coffee longhand eye frozen start
seven beer morning convict blood dumbshow
a visitor
of year through memory

to flesh; sparks the rule
for what
to choose
is gone

I drinking ditches
and slapping milk
to a river, boat and bottom
mile dull; bone a nostril prow
wet liver whimpering
to flower rampage
to tug upon a door, to come sift iron, to cool and shank high winds enveloped tentacles of envy, fissures,
ambushes, carved poets, chlorine toothed teenagers drop as cadences across strained concrete




at first there is a shoal
a pleading
an outline complacent smoothing
asking the following questions