Brewer Springs

Dutch twoity, a woman and me, I and I and
a man who told the world: nothing.

Foisting relief in respite on unready
electric thumbs, by the deserted cowfields

after an ellipsis—cogitative, peripatetic,
peninsular at a cost. Prying a loose

administration to our nightly adolescence
save an orphan’s subconsciouslessness:

English teacher’s Columbian assistant
posturing mid-sixteenth century’s long-

distance, obscurantist phonecall, tall, over
furious green blackboard, pale,

green, as generators beneath a faithless,

Twenty Dollar Bill (Vanished Into Air)

Text from the Robert-Johnson
-contract, 1936, Mississip

Son and
Charley—stop, gimme please…
Moonlight and
river light—stop, put it to my

Red dust and
sunstroke—stop, sifted by that breeze…
Moscow and
pony stall—stop, under tops of

Hollow and
Orphan stumble—stop, these are my bees…


Life-Take (work death)
work-Death (give rest)

Give-Rest (poetry offer)
Poetry-offer (neither neither)

Neither-Neither (offer best)