Pilots Were Not Informed

Sentence said slavery, or

acupuncture, with nettles and

always a fulcrum, the

new, dangerous condition.

Serious in service when

service fills bucket. Death

kills Death for lack of vision.

Ancient wiggles in

nervous moonlight

just means slop. The people of

Malibu die

every day for

lack of what newspapers call

poetry. Poetry resides in an

aisle that includes

saviors and body

shamers, nice string up

human.

Poetry becomes poetry

for a second, only

sometimes, becominG a

first an event.

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A Child’s Proletariat Garden

The work becomes chiding of sunlight. The work is elegy and shaded. The principle ciphers as a god, in the way transience is purpose. Transience works this brief, ending fields, making trees concern. The hell of halting midway identifies the work of burning thru. Forever makes a sign. Sign makes worthy. Indeed the tramp of feet forward concludes any sentences but suggests more. Long sentences, stupid words. The caroling heard by Dante, brilliantine remorse for a better tide. The long road up from down, and turned around. The work then becomes the work now, as stained glass similitude. Anxious in the class structure of catastrophe, the baying song over all. Nothing to do but be done. Ruskin gave you papers to remind you. Slow battering concedes the earth in time. Time being functional and oblique. The worker inside sees the nation by exhalation. Transitive connection sports of culture. The class that ends becomes the class that begins, both left and right.

A Screed Left Town

Inside the excuse for nation: leafy tractors (any bonding to the brownness of earth will do). A day’s march from the next day’s march, the love amongst us on a map. The map shows citadel, city in a dell, and abounding fields. The trees have effort to contend with. Bears chuff to excess in a workfarm spring. Something tall rises on the plain. Mills confirm the need for rivers. Troops stop where the food is. Terror provides the function for non-terror, in zones described as war-like. Pictures become words for people sighing. One sees a lack of food, or especial jewels, or the need for frocks made from bison. Another tower seems important for a nation’s existence, one taller than might. It will seem like tradition. You and I are left to explain.

Last Night Was Later Than Today

Piles of bricks as a process in time while a tower in effect placed stylized as sanctified in terms of outgrowth to the border while borders exist, as well as minarets, belfries, strong intention, virtue in rock. The bricks of great establishment and rex, resplendent age, steps up to the evermore, every one each secure in tense disputation with failing light and then. Then crusades, reticulations, the dream of lush fondants for dessert as luxury looks loose likely for well bespoken gift of time foraging. For all time, and whoever else, booming. So the basis consists in bricks and refugee camps, bricks made from mud and straw in time for piles of bricks, and refugees. as a process in time while a tower in effect placed stylized as sanctified in terms of outgrowth to the border while borders exist, as well as minarets, belfries, strong intention, virtue in rock. The bricks of great establishment and rex, resplendent age, steps up to the evermore, every one each se...

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