The ideal candidate: vigorous

easily connects with others;

Prefer stubbornly offers.

Please send resume, cover letter, and salary requirement to





what if I find a stupid one, a lunatic bitterness that pleasantly

I presently found, what a kind one, your invitation and what a stupid one

am I, having just now found your envelope, pleasurable archival

I cannot make it to your lavish




Dear William,

sweet, what a kiss

yes, I’m a confident panic,

without the pomp

brocade, bluish and blush, I’m a grocery store fire

through the night awake, aware, whimpering, alarmed with waiting

glass, glossy, fogged up or, worse, opaque,

me, the fragile circumstance on the eve of an electric engagement

public, through which they all saw, fooled about lying

and ceremony in the manner of the procession

to honor and to keep at bay

fooled about liking me

in the quake of the proceedings, the golden spectacle,

I prefer vigorous

dead stones, lifeless taffeta, crisp curls deflated, limp lace

like a backwards someone


God I can’t stop talk

so this will have to do—

moon and, honey, the crowning to the sumptuous

our postprandial travel panning out in sips,

tip by angled tip, the brine, twinge, and prick of the nuptials,

God I can’t stop, think—

your habit of smiling out at strangers

what if I

thinking you’re the habit of sitting, doused in vacant expression, inside

stalled cars, stalked idly,

end up dead, with dead diamonds and a pork chop in my ear,

will be more profit,

I mean will be more proud if I

already know, but far be it from me to tell you things

can profit on a cool evening in Northern

the tulips were falling out over their

fur and leather wedding gowns’


I would

prefer difficult no’s, stubbornly offers

a lunatic future, riches, treasure, yes I’d love one,

some. but why be sneaky,

nice knowing you. glad we love so much we lost,

could love so much we shot them down.

I wonder when it’ll air or tear, the hail and gusts come walloping down

so much northwesterly warmth and so much green outside the Narthex

the tulips falling wide, talking idly amongst themselves,

fondly I remember first the offer

fondly I remember first hearing from

too bitter for me

and hence more detrimental

what if I find a nun? or a younger man?

whether I’ll err, what if I?

why are you wrong? this song is not at all over

or else gone to code

why are you merry? this is not yet sung

I shall be one,

so easily connects to others

I shall be

so in the future

connect the other way

the cry of the nautilus shell,

Gods, and pegs I think too big

I think I’m a virtual place to revise

more possible long-range

I need to burn

the world needs to learn to be more

fondly I first remember hearing from

I don’t know when these things heir

this absurd policy, how much?

a bunch, went well with

the longer term

I’m just curious

I’ve been a held note so long

I think I’m a

boiled away

I’m scared, seems I would

so long

nice knowing you some




Dear Kate, I regret to inform you

your application, though kind and brutally charming,

cannot be accepted

at this time




Brain abuzz,

entirely overwrought,

hard work is overrated

overdone, overworked, I was once…


Kate, I must decline your kind invitation

you, an old friend who’s made me very, very sad

to the royal banquet

and friendship is hard, Fran


Hesperion cadges

the castanets in un chanson amist the casa

de locos oranges and greens deranged

doing dishonor


I think my spleen is coming undone

my seams are ripping apart

each foot drop pounds

a million  __    __    __


ashes into the turf, aerated

oils celebrity addiction,

swigs of disordered destinies

chugged afast, abrupt


dripping sweat from the tripod, robotic legs

branching, forked tongues latch

onto one another, clasp the meaning of trust, grasping

a fine but grandly misguided love


the pattern will emerge,

so hopes your falt’ring seam,

and what can you do,

what is left to do


Grille your ideas

Business your taste

School your desires

Fashion your instinct,


end up

penniless, groveling for mercy

to the Merchants of Miracles in the purple square,

tantalizingly alone


Being dinosaur,

Hesperion, to Saint Andrew and George,

brain abuzz, entirely overwrought,

“I think your spleen is coming undone.”


dripping sweat from robotic legs,

branding one another in fire, misguided love,

grandly loping up

clasp one to the other


School your desires,

dishonored dinosaur,


and what could you have done?




You have lived and lived on, lived on every kind of shortage

It’s more of an artists’ colony than a hospital

in our hearts, learn to petrify it so,

all is from wreck, here, there, to rescue one—

How fibrous and incidental it seems, inside the skull!


Old brain inside the new brain, New brain inside the old; skull the skull.

I had children of my own

—a dog’s skull

is slightly thicker than our own.


For six months, in a carousel-sweet dress,

I arranged the day she was born; the Duchess’s baby

For six months, I arranged

the day she was born in a Carousel-sweet dress the Duchess’s baby


Sad beds wide enough

made by the passage of parents—

just jars of buttons spilled, recurring.

It was not really necessary to eat the food; one could breathe.


What he needed from me, I have no idea.




The trick is to make it personal:

We’ll kiss each kiss, each other on kiss the kiss

Oh plunge me deep in love—put out

something offensive: a revolver,




The chill of closed eyelids. To open

open your tiny beak-mouth, That looks as if

it would never open.

The nearer she got, the bigger she looked, obscenely neck-like,

until my eye nearly failed, sleep-fallen.

Naked in your dark hair, unveil the mannequin’s

legs in glee. This is not

choking, okay mocha? ebony, ebony?




Sewing up the kinks in this film, I’m

the whole cathedral crash at your back

[                                                  ]




in the glaring white gap

glitches, gully pulley pitches, the reflected gleams

glisten’d with wet


The pilot alone knows Now,

Now I am safe in the deep V of a weekday

and a refrigerator, wrapped in duct-tape lying

Someone stands and weeps in the Glass—


Only the steps into the frontier where it is easy to hide,

Appear to the Americans upon the cloudy night.

Myself conjectured were they Pearls—

with only the fakebook of Beauty for feeling,


My own bags were full of strong Poison with tiny shards,

shards of Silence, because the continent, americans,

was on the porch, each one a treaty, a frontier,

Then the terrible


terrible thing happened: I stand clothed in trees (not the magnolias)

their limbs gone missing their gloves,

too liminal the wild, protected, while all the—we slept