All the lands of never waiting for me
wonder why the ink itself won’t sing
all words belong to someone else
o borrow borrow this gypsy cock
praise is vital though it turns to
ash before the shrine
spice of incense burning down
solve all my problems easy as say no
signpost at the crossroads between
Neaux and Hiesse
strong sun in cucumber slice open
midnight
that’s how the stars began mind
started counting
I need a maid to pick up all these
stones
a world swept clean of what I
mean.
185.
All these animals waiting for me
a tiler waiting for a wall a mosaic
Christian floor
I once knew how to walk that street
I see a word I never touched before
raindrops impersonate pale flowers
all these headlines try to hold your
mind
hint at what each sentence means to show
verbs confuse sentences as sudden
movements startle birds
the nouns you almost trust as if the
Middle Ages
came round to you again and all your shirts
smelled of lavender and any maiden
with a lute
could drive you crazy with likely
continuities.
