Makes Voice Without                           

The next tether is close at hand. It’s not about being different; it’s about being alone. Forever. A configuration makes sense, but geometries shift. Slash through familiar quotations. The coupling is confusion, an elongated misunderstanding. Back pages promote the sheer fabric of protects you from staring. Those diabolical underpinnings. These sojourns of sadness amuse someone. Who peels back their misshapen frailties? No one is better than another. Water is relentless here, but the smell forgets and keeps you away. Double or nothing is how we see all of nothing. The delicious parts of history. Facing the painting like never before. I don’t even prefer that anymore.

The air, a moment rushes against it and nothing remembers its name. Blind-sided, blinded, the monsters emerge. A pile of board games at the thrift store. Pieces missing. Seeds caught in the shirt’s cuff. Torn lengthwise, an improvised poster. Eyelids lowered, the night of your drink enters. The dispatcher has been out for weeks.

Shavings                                       

in the world / the one obvious distinction / a palace of fever of dementia / also there is the finicky wobble 

X / THE DESTRUCTION / A WAREHOUSE LEFT IN DISARRAY / MARBLES ACROSS A DESERT OF FORMICA / AN ANIMAL’S OBSCURED DREAM / REGARDED AS A GROUNDED PRONOUN / DRAWS ITS OPPOSITE / X

A SYMPOSIUM ON LOVELINESS                                

invisible notations. the nearest distance. a prediction. intends the practical drift of color, verging on something gigantic. inside the small. a frantic dampening stick. one hundred bells, one hundred bricks, one hundred remembers whatever will surface. little alphabet parts. the genius of the thumb. delightful shaft of electricity. the mayhem turns on you. as change finds you. frolic is sewn into a hat. you wonder where gravity is. the forms of communicating. a foray. a foyer. aforementioned.