Skip to main content

The Dust of Dust

 poets  

with  some  

some idea  

thought  


everything  

can be saved  

from nothing  


the poets  

with the  

thing  

that makes  

poets poets


opting  

thing in word  

that picture  

finds  


stating  

becomes  

state  


poets most  

likely mean  

mostly  


as far as  

the word  

goes  

going finds  

a place  


In this  

verdant dell  

approximately  

for words  

and state  


if bombs  

are any  

Where  

that  

will be  

noted  


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

FIERY TASTES

  Dragon, it's I'm so excited! It's tradition to eat game time! (COLORFUL ADJECTIVE) (FOOD) and drink at We usually get with (PAST TENSE VERB) it is epic We're def showing up at spot, to fire up that (SUPER HERO) (PERSON POSSESSIVE) tailgating (ADJECTIVE TO DESCRIBE BACON) so it's not boring AF  we seem To be restless

Setting Sentences Straight

  Walking is not walking if Gertrude chooses not to walk. The premise: Gertrude Stein is not walking. She may be on a boat, not walking, crossing the wide ocean sea. Leaving inevitable France but not walking. Dramatic but not walking. Sentenced but not walking. There were days of walking but not this day. Reading or just looking but not walking.There were sentences full of walking but not walking. Talking maybe but not walking in or out. A time lived and walking was done then if not now. It was a doing and it was a done. Not forgetting Alice who may have had walking done or even doing. The annals say Leo Stein walked along, up to and including the degree of not walking, along. Those flower names walked along, Matisse, Picasso, Laurencin, in varieties. An adding war or two closed or opened anything jump. Apollinaire in the historical. Languages of shapes and sizes bounding for just the time and a little beyond. And that was the how sentence. In that time but also forward until readi...

Maps Then And Now

  cobble stones on fire, cars uprooted, it was a strange nexus and bright bolt. We knew we would be younger than today, always that same stress-tone and nodding after. Bison as big as, feeling entitled promise and big years. We weren’t arranged so properly and too bookish but as the fit of time and wheat stalks in fields swaying. We proposed without exactitude but in flinty response a spark. It could constitute a binge but did not. All this in the certain year and then. Now produces a traffic of manyness, meeting and entreating as simplified breath. It would be stone wonderful to follow into an Idaho of history and dimension, mapped by eyes and invited steps. Lewis died with extinguished story, Clark stayed announced. Today old mongering remains in shivering, unplacid worldview by shaky virtue of amazing wither. Rightly leaning wrong in crossfire, purpose beyond completion, our own gravity stoked for how we  intended  the lucid green, at our feet, at our hands, at all rou...