Abbreviating Summer, 198?

A rollered narcissus-flower
smoked, blown.

A bellowed cribbing tossing
over jaundiced-black

myopias, codifying a suggestion:
a velveteen volume’s neural

acidity; Our mangled, our mute-
buttoned lake.

Voices of Monticello skill and of
craned–racing importance,

localized in Mid-western manners,
up-country toward bungalow im-

pudence to courtly request;

the quick-mix concretized as
embattled, as lush

and as blistering of our feather-
weight, blood-winged feast;

“I do not know myself!” uttered
by our-inner, our-urban-

suffused dementia, warrant for the
reviling, revolving corner-breeze.

Re-red Agenda

The bones all boiled in ashen
city secret. I come

to hear the unhealing,

the singed and I am
listening for

harmonic waging of white
or black-

forested activity, entwined
in a high-hung helix

of an old and abrupt,
epistolary sub-


Cult Figure

Seeking reward for fawning
after Thanatos,

a complement to Eros
will neither seek

something to do with
all those brains,

nor be heard, nor loved.

An opened ending of
a triangle

popping off

the answer from within
the question

is maybe another

of newly found axioms

an emblematic disposition:

The successful speak

and excessively
of failure.