Oh, obstreperous one, ornery outside of ordinaryprotocols; paramilitary probie par
excellence: Every evidenceyou yield yells.
In the stillness of a windless day,trees stand full, and proud, and straight.
He was in a poem once, alive at the beginning, dead by the middle, haunting me at the end.
Beaucoup de musique de Miley on the air—As one may imagine, there is a Rihanna button, and it iswhat you push when you enter the control room, and
Don’t dream it’s over you don’t know what’s it’s like it’s like that & that’s the way it be near me be near
Seeing again your face […]
It hit me in a noisy bistro—the muted frequency— Jimmy Cobb’s brushes were fine sand
I can still see it, just a touch of whatyou might call its lip, or maybe a long knife-readyunderbelly. The sturgeon moon is swimming
I am going to disappear in Belmont,after taking a walk in intermittent rain.I will vanish one day in Belmont—don’t correct me—
Here’s to the innards and ubers