From School


Images are transparent, (nuff said)

so that in reading or

mediation nothing can be heard

With grass and fog and the musical event –

“where are you, dad? Daddy, what are

you doing?” Ticktack, tick tack, talk?

what matters now is host,

lumpy bread whose arms dangle

and whose voice is fiber. They talk

to us, who hold the lens,

Oh yeah, & the turkey and the chicken

says to aliens, “remember?”

This is the foundling string,

the remainders, as if it were

the it foundation of

Doing It This Instant.

Doing it to the ground.

Penetrate the Gates she said.

You are my partner,

my  user, subscriber, the one

who holds the missive


(like) releasing

a bit of pestilence

we walk along, & that

kills lineage or bamboo clattering

across waves “outside”

what window now

Green overlapping blue

remembrance of sound


(like )day chased

man whose life was

chased by threatening.


But that’s not my dog

& things are evil. Repetition of

dog, dance, devotee,

not court, count, car, or caravan. It’s the

arrangement of leaves

‘gainst fields of outgoing

grain, all whole constrictions,


The period in

each “sentence” increase

content looking for frame or nest

invoking paper & over

Over yonder’s got me

down about representation, teaching

things we can’t calculate long