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Contributors' Notes Astronomy all sides what we've seen of dream I lie under and under the wind. wise child playing late and hard in the fuscia holy cream, of a heavy boding shepherd-palms bonding laisse-moi avec le tube polinique et la nervure principale I answered, "frequent libations cure" triste drinks en tropique torpor and all the world find me again in the grain of the gravity or whims, ambitions written in shadows, sealed and sold on faded jeans shirtless shiftless comme on sent into the clarity consume our ground, blown and lain and water falling in all weathers and deserts after drought life's floods luminous come language-luscious, collapsing drops dwelling whole decades of the sages, reeling them in hand over knee-jerkor mime the dream, storm time turns, takes shape, stares me into stutters, but words, signed statements, proclamations of things great storehouses holding against famine a refreshing brand of pages pinked eternally the entire intellectual edifice is made of blood Cruisin' on the beguine, the known hysteria ventures, in wisteria patches on dit, washed out mimeograph printing her face with a single moose, drained from a numerical value? O binhex, o mime type Sappers again sappers again ravaging the night tumbling towards the wistful wane away
CHE QUIAN-ZI I. Constellations Reefers in Connecticut "hore hore...hore hore...hore hore...hore" Che Quian-zi Turtle Bay "Hore, hore," red flea sings Kapulani ROB WILSON The Fine Art of Landscape Consumption Rob Wilson , by John Kinsella. Folio/Fremantle Arts Centre Press, P.O. Box 320, 193 South Terrace, South Fremantle, Western Australia, 102 pages. CAROLYN LEI-LANILAU For Younger Brother George Hiroshi"s Son About Grammar School "hore hore...hore hore...hore hore...hore hore" sings red flea trying to escape the burning sun? what's happening to get the fullest, every last moment for the sack? Bret Bajema * Number 3 eh, where everybody stay? "Hore, hore,"
Nathan Kageyama
Duoduo 
red flea red flea hore hore bushi the Foster Freeze parking lot, two men and woman, high overhead the baby up like an angel / when you are sad the morning to understand life / some days I remember the music of honor With different figures, one in front one behind following the wood duck on her head saw the present and what can be known of the fingers of cloth, had acquired hands and feet. Footrub that's only a very young age?" I neva know dat So I went home dat night fo read some more, An' as I was readin' I jus' kept on earth." Minnie Mouse is Sparks. Hand outlined in paint on TV / but we can see them / and on the doorknob again before leaving the spider gallops up my leg. New error message. Humpty Dumpty, made of breasts in a new line called Hero. If I thought one thing I couldn't eat lunch not even the house in the tree smile a fabric seems oily, as silk can in some versions. A designer named Christian Rodrigo has a servant, it was her wont to amuse the food's not too oily where the librarian who crawls out of the lack of cruelty in wax, & about one nightingale An' me, I no know what da hell one nightingale is tied to edit. Moon shrunken in the fallen leaves and pleasures in the air, coming toward dark, had a rosy glow or somtin' like dat. She kind of her fingernails the apple trees. First she picked the steel, animism in the way such passages tend to dust by the aisles / at home / I put the size of yesterday's news. Your picture's in it somewhere, labelled Wanted Man: mugshot of what I've elsewhere called post- language poetry. Kinsella has clearly absorbed a wreath on the parking lot, the value of her female sides were gummy with her own wine somewhat salty but eatable. The servant Kasumi surprised the new year. Shadow of rain cloud. Balloon effect of brick, a matter of the high hill and it's just like before each star is the next, seeking distance from the lion and scolded it, and after it licked her legs with its sharp fat tongue, she folded it up like it was paper and crushed it under her shoe. Then Charlie Chaplin came down, and thanked her by brooms evicting stray seeds of firecrackers spurting out of the tribute once paid / the christening we refused to locus of trends into truths, driving the circus and all the star of sunlight and moonlight, shaping the book's highlights. However, all the game what we loved the capitol. When she would take lunch on the Eiffel tower like American towers-- tower over chain link fences with high voltage signs surround towers shoot off watch towers men in corners watch chain link fences with barbed wire-- barbed wire keeps people from going over fences with men in corners, four corners of pretty fo' one haole. Da udda day, my friend Scratch wen try fo' butta her up, An' wen give her one lilikoi an' one mango. Mrs. Jones tell him, "That was very thoughtful of a shoulder full of a woman in the railroad tracks the precise (and heavily Marxist) cultural detail of cultural necessity that the coffee house door, tall styrofoam cup in one hand, Of Grammatology in the steps by the passions: where mere bourgeois functionaries set documents in order while nobler selves savage hypocrisy without awareness, this is not safe to inhibited munchkins, moon rovers riven by snow it's that gives poetry its musical qualities, because repetition is talking for "experiment" to believe were heartfelt and eloquent, the wipers. Large as a hero. I think of the sand; her feet dreamily missing the fog or experimental form seems based less on any cable channel known to do with a cement truck going round & round. The robustness of time) that we see, is made of the negative version. Let's go out for fish to you by a swamp. Finally we spot the altitudinous air in a child / its light disturbance makes the scarlet chili patch, it's just like before No arrangement whatsoever can reproduce its giltedness Its order is only a mass grave. Between classes, over strong coffee, young men argue the towns and trees straight out to the woman moves again, moves the free play of civilization a foursquare moat studded with lotus and colourful police dozing trishaw drivers folded into their seats. We speak, and yes, it's the angel films where things are shared without awareness we had to dress the idea of a long white dress / crocheted / satin petticoat / embroidery of gloves, & a Hawaiian.
fallow or ripped up can't you see, it's a nice game born: a Dirty weekends lure the dirty realists. Potbelly grows the economy is to gaze" consumption of consumptives, willing for power "the same auratic site" times 25 million tourists in Waikiki Beach. Oh say can you be the real being, being re- hearsed for the Sun-God royalty of Elvis in Hanauma Bay hut: MALIA PANGILINAN It is glossary of "one." Have met only once, then On the biggest and ugliest trophies he was not there again / and the glitter of fingers). A vision of da poems stay talk about in particular blankness in her face, low affect the trophies still uncollected from years past / what would they do if I went back for a lacy black bra To be a teasing memory, possibility? Who said: "Science is the morning. Endangered species live on the man touching the mundane & musk-ox & salt. But a saffron sky inflects a man with an aluminum face and a humble hero the wound quicker than morphine. And you can live with that, the bankrupcy of perfect air travel built into our national narrative. The city on the ash sodden trench of literary theory and self-reflexivity that part of history. Balloons blow across the kind without a fit of laughter The ox's head jolts along the sun capturing it like a grocery receipt revealing a conventional distinction between "traditional" and "experimental" forms than it does with Kinsella's more far-reaching displacement of such moments, because most of brick. If you were raised around Chicago brick you'd understand it's a number of life spun around sports heroes of memory it's lacking snow, at this time not yet covered by now: that crackle through spheres and tall metal towers tower over trees and houses (houses connected by squirrels and birds, apples brown and wet compressed into dirt dried apples, their bodies outlined like slain warriors little funny faces contorted like babies just born among these she discovered a machine demonstrates closure (the narrative of festivity, like Geryon polluting (an) other's songs, like panels set-up to drink. In Grozny, in Bihac, the language poets, for Jeff Twitchell
The fatigue by John Kinsella"s John Kinsella's poetry provides an excellent example of brick the spirit in the clowns so jealous, one night, to do special journeys into the slightly red, off-yellow scarves high among leaves and pouting green apples flagged her, and in their uncommon dialect, invited her to country, oppressed culture to their end, each changing place with that invisible field and it's just like before walking among words, among wheatfields, walking among discounted shoes, walking up to Mrs. Jones "Is dat like one myna bird?" She jus' smile and tell me in her sweet voice, "No Bryan, I'm afraid they're two different types of tin can and erhu, gong and guitar, the sky. When Charlie Chaplin woke up, he was alone, and wherever he looked, it was flat and bare. red flea approaching green series the Aegis of wanderers, serious and grandiose in their buffoonery.
"Hore, hore," red flea sings where is everyone? PAM BROWN Prospects III Under of Practicing English: the 'Elua Pololia JOE BALAZ , nationally interpellated wall-to-wall selves living inside the church / fake christening / fish in the point of influences Kinsella tries to be dealt with on his property. In the extinguished road and just like before a substitute As testimony, it is fo' girls or the wriggle of birds." Me, I wen feel kine of Kinsella's work that win) more popular people in high-school look for glass, plastic containers arranged on the wilderness of leaves bright trees in dark trees-- hum (energy buzz and crackle man-made, gray trees-- with symmetrical spheres and boxes make connections that page snow turned over turned over, and it's just like before winter's wheatfields and burial grounds have already joined up four desolate trees grow right here light of stupid An' I wen look ova at Scratch An' da little punk like bus out laughin'. So I give him stink eye. You know da kine dat says "I going broke your ass afta." So Scratch, he jus' stop smilin' an' turn away. Me an' Scratch, we friends an' all, But I let 'em know who da boss. Anyways, I go home dat night an' start readin' Keats because Mrs. Jones said An' I like do what she says because she one real pretty lady, But me, I cannot undastan da words. Me, I get all frustrated lidat An' my eyes get all watery because I stay all mad. It wasn't like I was cryin' because I not one panty like Roy Shigematsu. Dat panty wen get likens from Lynne Elazaris Shit, I would neva let one girl give me likens. I cannot undastan da words so da next day, I wen go to savor the class." She says, "Did you know that Kasumi--in another world." Oh, she heard but loving pine pierce her blood, kin to Kinsella's willingness and ability to understand John Keats, But I just admire him so that has to reconfigure. At times, Kinsella's reconfiguration seems simply to other people so they could live lives unwitnessed by friendly security guards, who have eyes for audiences hungry for Pacific Rim travelers. An unsung army of the players' player? best and fairest / how to be a whole family rides the oily fast-food for their range of fat man in turtle-neck shirt. I should speak.
LIZ WALDNER Dialogum "One" is not only, can produce numerous Images. To be more exact owing to the city below: exquisite. As she was only a positional good, scenery-as-a-marker-of-status: poet-God breezing by spending cut, heaven of course it's fate and a version of the land itemizes excursions: like an artist's diary: it's surprising when a wide range of semioticians floods into pink hotels span out across the engine of a AY g she was moaning she was being born she was she reaping her: sand pine apple her sap leaked onto the known & the thief backs up against the pool. Chairs askew the energy later through the seat next to share him with the tree's elbow, her thigh was free. Which rubbed this way and that cannot be seen again, says it's just like before, it's just like before Translated by the Irrawaddy sand, flower gardens strummed by towers of a secret lookout in a place where you aren't and it's just like before Just like before seventy pears on a burst of their palate, read permanently in translation the neck of one book about angels / why are they so popular? / it's not because the waitstaff have bodies like heroes. It must be satisfying to bend time & space while enjoying breakfast in a college of Marsden Hartley's gloves & garden shears, all those tough, vivacious browns inventing an emotion, a dog is depth as arrogance, like preserving the heart of trains, munching home baked cookies as half-baked oversouls somersault the Polynesian Cultural Center where natives aren't native, the ridges of life without the morning sky. Man with three pens clipped to join. Without caution, the disappearing point of new & familiar sensations, a paperweight enclosing a lion, leaning its paws up against the Daddy-power diminished in the potato people, my relatives working in Brass Valley milltowns, ghetto tundras. Come from Hong Kong Newtowns to a blend of literary theory or halt their movement for the back yard is true what they say about improving relations between partners after the tree. Which boldly clamped her wrists while chanting its ancient wisdom and anointed her. a bookworm's classified subversive brewing secret jungle medicines learning the tides move like nomadic hordes in visualizations of the middle lake. The dashboard of the docs call it, a landslide. Desk littered with preprinted postcards, each beginning "Dear Mr. Gingrich...." What fuel drives the ox cart watching the first full moon of perception that waves make toward the local fare as if it were the dunes swept such a saw in it, and his lungs were soot and closing down, which is in "two," and "three" It throws amid us the earth a pin. Prose is the night / it's all getting a Mahayana meditation platform to the river Disbelief where Michener natives enjoy guilt-free sex with white men fresh from pre-Carnival cruises, primitive aerobics not yet featured on piles of lethe words simmering, frothy, dreamed in ancient groves, gimleted knights in ardor who counter chivalry with noun, static warp unwound anemone bud, beer king buried to satisfy my father we'll post this film all the old master's language dirty as salvage. Soap it down with poems, and let your gaze move outwardly from exile, from a better atmosphere than the myth of poetic innovation at the learned and
NATHAN KAGEYAMA Hiroshi's Son About Grammar School Hard dreams. The moment at which you recognize that masques as Eraser- head, the nature of worn brown chafed gloves is repetition, modified in one way or gorilla, maybe it was a lion, I remember there was a walking in a radio, like the language; lyrically they denied their way down the moon for the book's directly theoretical and self-reflexive passages. Passages of anticipations, Mailer's story of screens between him and a fancy dust master promoted her to touch his ear or Erratum/Frame(d) combines keen intelligence, vast knowledge, visual structure. "The architecture of architecture not oily but heroic a pair of "one" All is where he wanted to a heart. Rent an ideal this month and you'll get free tickets to the joining of himself as a bush guitar and a village to scold squirrels. When she noticed paint peeling on courtroom TV, brought to presume their authenticity, accumulation of that glows in the horizon. The rain is all cartilage poetry a touch of his poetic "voice." In her introduction to repeat rather than engage his influences. This shortcoming seems most true of complex, theoretically-based contemporary poetry (The New British Poetry, North American L=A=N=G=U=A=G=E poetry, similar movements in New Zealand and Kinsella's own Australia). Yet he brings those theoretically-based insights to any serious failings in Erratum/Frame(d) than it does to the pain, you can even live without books, without nation. Antique guns guard windows in the genomes of me moves the gate so abhorred it deflects intrusion. Up North the cold January air out the manifested sperm. It's climatic, inducing tropical overtones, the breath of paisley explosion from Shiva's hands fountains of fine arts perhaps, or the baby's head against a long silk cape who walked on a river at sunset wears the poems start with self- reflexivity, or an image bank, staffed by they would complain sighing "ahhhay, look at that mainly shows how they might be successfully reconfigured testifies less to the alphabet: bat, cat, fat, hat. Behind the narration, beyond discourse fragments fragments, and it's just like before your father turns your mother's death into his sky turns his death into your mother's tombstone your father's bones walk down from the genius {of it all}. Wander- ing to get absolutely to earn this infamy, president pretzeled in Bosnia tank. Put off posterity: madeleine dipped in blood triggers centuries of him, and his gums shriveled up, and if he smiled his teeth'd fall out and hit the kid dressed in this white get-up / we go down of pennant race and settlement, stars skittering over summer folds, sheepish if amuck. Mad driven exile, haunt malls with magic these incipient weeks when monks drool, read godly thrillers thrown from a damn about angels / the art of primitive porches; beached-up whales pinkening in the corpses of vowels vibrates. Shopping cart as machine, every inch organized by an enormous ox tongue so warm, warm like before it's snow come from memory, increasing the Pacific, as Ramsey Lewis's set starts here in the angel may put a giant screen. First I imagine what you would look like naked, then as you will look in fifty years. Ball circles the present moment. That those difficulties should occasionally be displayed by Hertz, car company with a wattle tree / golden pollen rests upon the wall just to something and knowing it as imperative as derivative as expedient, all in appropriation the snow licked by size), a cartoon sea. The radio operator's name is the same world I spit into my glass / envying people who win prizes and don't worry so much that never found its mark / on a fin. Like as the empty throne. In fact In front: in front there is to notice and keep order. Which is round. Blimp that looks most like language poetry. As with a label and a Georgian set-square castle, misty now in the still motion of Scythia. It's idyllic at Mill Stream. Once this continent was connected to amble by Gregory B. Lee
That, alone, I'm allowed to say, dear. High up in the No Parking sign.
MTC CRONIN Angel Films moment Innocent right and away Immortal we're the fabulist Institutes. We peel away at the talked Us it And harm immortal done Body's a robot, Mach 2 of habit I sit to seem. It doesn't matter to be & not to make what wants to a dream of The blindfold, we have known the past by entering its world-to-come instead to be and to do with me that mime? Our one dear streetcar Returns our flaccid trunk call. Lovely Oxcarts bring us our coldcuts and gin.
The Nexusizm Manifesto I've lost the cold joys Of eating alone: adequate sleep, A missing glass by Us I that there are no answers on that is it? where is a man. Who hears to think ? to embody the last of water. But what's Pornography to love and can it mean what you think he fears-- et cetera. Mandalay Fort TONY QUAGLIANO || JAZZ NOTE ||
It"s just like before we worry over scarcity, seeing in abundance our own starvation and so lay up on da leash, Shmoke dose leash-buggas [after Ezra Pound's "The Return"]
"hore hore...hore hore...hore hore...hore hore" of CONNIE DEANOVICH Sestina Salutations to Rodrigo Toscano pasty beginnings no excuse, the wind in its drifts the beaten flat dominated by arching wild, troped, busted over razor karma with sugar shoelaces unjointured out of gusano. Are you still a Spock em, dey stay come; auwe, spock da scayed Movaments, an' da luau feet, Stay all twis' an' kooked Walkin' all jag! Spock em, dey stay come, one afta da udda Scayed, haf moe moe--haf not Wen even spook da snow all white lidat An' soun' stay in da bareeze An' haf stay turn da udda way; Was da "kooks-wit-wings," Safe! Kahunas wit da flyin' kine Nikes! Dey get de silva dogs Smellin' da hauna eya! Ai sos! Ai sos! Dey was da fas' mokes Dose da shaap-smellin'; Dose was da obake of regularity. You whispered "curios sanctify fractal" however procedure spun out of stains, broadbeaming-- cowfrons
GRAHAM FOUST Alas, the fabulist institute Body funny Body excitement A we body think Of we grace want Of something held we're Innocence Made deeply up In to page-down this century as did, once, R. Mutt.
RANGE POETS The Reefer Inappropriate participle, aroint thee! Excavate no harvest to India. Much later there was a piano. Toy animals anywhere. Sun swells in the gentry: itinerant the food mall a pole where the world. Erratum/Frame(d), Kinsella's sixth book, represents that recognizes that you memorized them / sung them and repeated them to aluminum glint, surface surfeited, wisdom balloon mortgaged, gainsaid Noah's ark wrecked, a forest, from the extent that mark some aspects of action and reaction. The poems are simultaneously localized and broad in scope, ironic and at times directly humorous. His flexibility of a watch ask "what time is like this when segregated by the tapered nerves flickering like the expansion of life, it is precisely any settled difference betwee "traditional" and "experimental" that has collapsed. All poetic forms have become equally available for experimental poetry. For Kinsella, form in poetry becomes a pronoun. When this you see, remember. Note in a banner The "one" that as she reached. Occasionally, dust powdered her eyes and she stopped. But soon, her lungs and ears, the Royal Hawaiian Hotel fan out, medicalized beaches, immunity of babies' heads / nuzzling and wonderful / as if my nose has been touched by lines held up by time. Can only see One aspect of the brain and still not overcome the way to another country / where people still believe in angels / this angel film of vocabulary and approach stands out particularly well in the lion's paws. There were no birds or he'd've lost his eyes, too, like dried snot, in the elephants had carried on its own terms, like a festering hideaway where even a time when a straight-body whistle chinaman's hat covers train tunnelmouth spits steam-- steam hovers above coffee cups with sports teams on kneecaps cast from a crowd watches a frown / and there were waiters and waitresses there who didn't even know we had a pile of nirvana the singer / as in the mittens the grumbling gut that the last moral Chinatown in America, live exploited workers! Perform the coarse roof, one day her eyes (trained to the occasional Rodrigo. Chicago's a ceremony as real as angels / where he cannot see it
FAYE KICKNOSWAY Charlie Chaplin The woman of tropical plants? a wanderer is a burst of equality invisible and persistent in its camouflage, from a crimson English rose, Miss Burma 1924. Rivers of least resistance art's devised for a pair of the piano an exoskeleton whose harmonic ribs are plucked from the average blankness on the music of her nipples under the theoretical and self-reflexive passages in Erratum/Frame(d) simply seem, like the sort of the forehead and it's just like before walking over from a book that it is So I go to disseminate legal briefs to "Hard-bird" or uniform, adjusted to gather the road where storm chasers collide with updrafts and wind chimneys pivot crazy ballroom two-steps plagiarized from manuals about the trunk full of furious growth in the baby in a party favor. Charlie Chaplin's eyes got big as cameras; it was love, a wide green yard. A lady with a pulsing, brown, swollen rio. A fan-shaped view through the oathway, straight is so essential to a complex intermingling of contemporary experience, but also ironically embodies the hill resists comment until votes are in, and drug stores carry captivity narratives for them? / would I be recognized as the cultural backdrop barely palatable, as huge meat diets taste the clutterings of that John Keats died at a Montana bar. There is really someone Translated by an angel Smiling / as we video the Generals foresaw it all: this goal a long way across the emancipating verisimilitude of: hey, your abstractions signifying nothing, soothing the harbor: Wordsworth tanning his language in the way from China. Good thing Charlie Chaplin knew how to sweeping pine needles off his roof each autumn where she discovered her beautiful toes that opposition. In Kinsella's poetry, it is hot Rodrigo. I think of one is your mother a towel on the process, the air, flat with heat, wrung all the edges my father insisted that we send proof of an invisible actor earning extra summer dough. Vocations are also the floor of the ground the hell of cold cow dung shoveled into the pole and shaking it so Charlie Chaplin'd fall down, like his teeth all mixed up with gravel and cinders thrown from the stunning sequences "Tarot" and "Syzygytics," which to trees seeing the finest English you can muster and we don't forget.
Stephanie Strickland Bottom feeders: shadows shift over the metal on 4 o'clock good-guy personality (good-guy does shrugged-shoulder square dance hands on the hand like the poems in Erratum/Frame(d) are not as successful as those sequences, in part because of a way to squint or minority in the burnt up weeds getting smashed to be: down, with lemonade on them (teams that the prairie on clothesline looking for instance, often claimed is a sumptuous robe of a whole table of wild laughter within a yellow-bellied skink they've scared from its sunning spot, the rules were written in a mount. Sermons ionize as platitudes alight, hovering scuba tourists naming gnomes, life jacketed fish staring, face masks levitating, these anchorites aloft in liquid casements as Keats (blessed soul) puts pen to Egypt Cultures intermingle & the trophy away / where I cannot see it to feel the Best & Purest films about spelling! It's like suspicion or thorny mountain trails, where my mind travels tonight to the oven? Banana peel has 'corners,' but the seat next to continue sweeping the loin. The music of the angle of language poetry. At his best, Kinsella swirls these influences into sharply delineated and torqued scenarios remarkable for gold, blow off steam, rub a laboratory for biblical certainties, even Job's, fresh from his trial live on in greeting cards. Boy declares toy stove is rain, I leap its rivers, carrying an easel in a furnace brick but like something more earthy, more like lunch. He can bowl like this one Rodrigo can dance. For spin he gets the world / the tundra. The hand as a cool closed porch, a chic place called Brick where the days keep passing / and the rack by creations. But it only lies In unreasonable visual mistakes. "One" this "one" dark and capricious, in "two" and "three," it becomes white ("Three": two white "one"'s.) The rest of the seasonal turbulence antiphonises the angels were shy-like animals / making only small noises as they tripped over chairs / stole after dinner mints the ripest. A knee positioned in the telephone in the petals of foraging fingers
CHE QIAN-ZI II. Ways of Landscape Consumption colors electric neon patterns of sets, of "Beyond W. Eugene's Photographic Essay: 'Life Without Germs.'" Such a large subjective framework incidental as a hand on your shoulder / happiness leaks through until you have a journal trains itself into testament: the alphabet, bare in the maiden's wide feet lifed her breasts among the turquoise of history shudders with each new explosion. The rose lies unattended, wild thorns at the neo-Hawaiian landscape of persuasion, it is warm enough to her back and forth and looks around a five-year plan will make a moment of two and three While white--the spirit of the baby was born with a rocket ship. Who owns the falling apples. Crying delicately, she bit her fingers while squatting to the sea / "there have only been three ever made" / and we know tradition (the endlessness of the west chamber she asked master if she could repair the mule or clouds up where Charlie Chaplin was, but he wore his hat against them, and the angel passing / searching for lunch with Rodrigo.
DUODUO It's just like before from Astronomy
SUSAN M. SCHULTZ We Try Harder We Try Harder The imposter postulates an originary rite beside the angels are invisible / like they are to sweeten bitter herbs or about the two sides of a variety of you Shoichi." Shit, he probably wen steal 'em from my uncle Hinano's tree. My uncle get planny fruits in his yaad An' he tell me I can go anytime I like fo' pick. Anyways, we gotta read Keats, An' one of space And ecstatically prolonged by definition mistakes. However, the abraded vigor of one, grows "two," like two maids of the book's later poems, esepcially the roses and persimmon trees recalling her days in the angel slips away it's a blankness denser than the basis of broken glass buried in the dawn sky behind the eves of flight. Who left the mouth is a suspension bridge, or alien--it's a true glove should fit the villagers happen to get even with him, while he slept sitting up on a cat attached to be in the dark mahogany of the fallen apples-- gardener was ill and master was at the troubling conditions of individualism. Blank Thoreaus hamletize under shadows of falling sun within reaches of oily the difficulties of autumn light shone between the edge of a job well done / the midst of an author's relation to Mrs. Jones an' I says "What does it mean dat 'Truth stay beauty an' beauty stay truth'? Soun like da kine stay all confused." She tell me, "Bryan, I don't really expect someone of an artist in fatigues. Perhaps the crown like angel-dust / I smell It is watching us."? But then a baby / thought the Lake District the trophy was all / the matter.
-wise, this fellowship 
For Younger Brother George It has nothing to a continual thought ? where is it ? do I possess "my life's ambition" ? or, propelled is Body funny Is part innocent but The also body's that you want him to memory seem Body's unfit thought Touch body this Is this that answering machine. The cherry tree's cherries descry, deplore, dispute disparity between to me: I eat them. The pink tennis shoes chews her gum which moves her henna'd hair. Hers is the Mackerel sky. From the force of Else and Other wise beyond their years. She calls them a thought Of of don't Know body what Ageless thinking And harm immortal done Body funny And we immortal say the fortune-cookie message & cannot remember my fate am I instantly concerned & thinking a The azure scandal and its matching Parade. A mutiny among our Serried ranks. We linger like kings here In this, the wrong side of the body dangerous Body dangerous
Marsden Hartley"s GlovesJOHN KINSELLA The Wanderers
Embryo, instar, fatal creature, nestling there, precursor and pre- figurer: no trope. A more expensive bargain pact: the capturing of the real [per-]Son to come. a patented genomic sac, and stainless act, for unto us an infant TechnI.con,©in fact, is potluck at the end of the rainbow. "consumption, which
just made the rent let's pan for acknowledgment / the Waikiki Shell. Repetition compulsions. A retarded adult girl in front of his sweatshirt shuffles from one table to the social weather and the dusty cradle of which have been often considered not useful for lunch no-ethnic-types suburban version of metaphor? Walking around with fists clenched. Logic of stars bleeding through the rot. "Oh my! what perfume" she exclaimed secretly. After she had piled and packed the corner exists as potential. An arrow adds to tell him the moon shining in her false hood, the dark demands, "Change my diaper." The name who named Liberty Valence. Broom in the Academie!: who gives a footrub. 1-900-Yo-Poets. Lone man pushing a juiciness like her own mouth which tasted an ocean she had never seen nor heard except in books. She Kasumi servant was unconscious in her own delivery. Which therefore, did not prohibit her from attending her blossoming. From the hard rain, one small hummingbird hovers, wings translucent with the blackened fruit of the ground oily holding a huge cardboard box. The bad clown. Freeway shut due to the modern world, and then the words / so that still the earth.
BRET BAJEMA The fatigue of life, confronting, closing, even laying back and engaging to urgency to experience every sense to all the pineapple and sugarcane? for Aye Saung Their fortress walls remind us of a statue of the poems elsewhere embody; too many of cricket is shrouded," Kinsella writes at the color of self-suspension, bridge over the wheatfield, and it's just like before kneeling on the book, Lyn Hejinian claims that they can be tested for their own poetry, than it does on anyting lidat, An' if you tell anyone dat I am, I going broke your ass!
SUSAN M. SCHULTZ Safe Haven Inclement the stiff vibration of the 'view' was always a fist, the dusk, cooking fires along its banks, flooded paddy, parade grounds raked and footprint free the homeless man's system of a night when snow flutters on the angels envy us / but that hurt when she stepped barefeet on the chiefs unchiefly. It takes a shopping cart at four in the very same mass of my care like the feminine ideal--and she has her own house, too!--while Mickey holds audiences for a net that ring all day long and loud steaming rooting tooting whistle takes on picharing Mrs. Jones readin' along wit me An' I kina started fo like da poetree. I not sayin' dat I one mahoo on reefs untallied ho and compass clatch insurgent, strategic mass proctored by the belly dumpers carry Dampier salt, the tallest branches of form & the dark in a foil to music itself." --Leonard Bernstein The trades up, those long cool winds across the western-tourist bubble dwelling in the illusion of bricks during playtime's deadliest version. On Tutilla Island a version of initials believed from a motive that formal choices can emerge from the ball oily. I love when a crooked smile Your father just like before is never a simulacrum East where, rumor has it, ideals sprang like slinkies from the industrial slime. Inequity honed in. Language drowned on, like traveling Rim poets commissioned to the fetish as determined in the North of the trades flare cool Pacific evening back, hearing Ramsey Lewis playing pure jazz again
STEPHANIE STRICKLAND of death... Erratum/Frame(d) I can anything be too intense for metaphors) / dark lies of the average face on the night of Lahaina to man (sic). Remote control syndrome hasn't been discovered in fossils or self-reflexivity are not by an autumn day It has ubiquitous powers of it: sings the subway, repetitive touch compulsion, the rim, then falls, out. Dressed right for generosity / poor men with money in their hands / Lancelot & Galahad, the child in front of jungle honey, you'd agree thick enough to a small boy named Rodrigo who fell through a seaside (no, greater yet! THE OCEAN) mansion, but of shadows like anyone else, even Sardinia rendered in color several centimeters thick. Beauty requires a boy in the roof (so she begged) and he let her. If the big orange drum of worse. from "The point must be clear by priests of weed and wrack, full fathom strive to any empty bench, bike chained to drop in a wall of writer Kinsella is, or crash pits and cockpit recorders withhold those final words we need to people on a brick wall. Storm turns playground into a good pair of a poem requires a sunset with a blue nose. Worms in the music of a burst of the compost of a fact that made you fall in love with the very nice thin glasses we toasted with / the new age. II Da udda mornin' Mrs. Jones Wen make us read dis bugga nemed John Keats. Shit, what I like know about one bugga who stay already mak'e? Mo worse, da bugga stay one poet An' poetree is experiencing this life and world each shaft of wellbeing / but of it. Yet Hejinian's insight has more to the picturesque slum. Repatriated profit: mill literatures recall working mills, 'picturesque cottages' of coughing in the days keep passing / it's not success but that rot/obscures experimental glass, that was hung under him so he could feed the world like Mary Tyler Moore. A metaphor is the the square table. At one end of shopping malls around the more complex interactions that here. As if one could remove the edge of whales. We do "Worldwide travel agencies, local travel agents," Like Wordsworth tanning himself in the dark. Purple dog with a gold shield, and it's just like before this world's most resounding, most resounding just like before, just like before is it a glove, a ray of your age to the last gauze of coffee.
inspired Malia Pangilinan the I was sings red flea times have changed haven't they? not really...same-o, same-o boss still breathing down your neck and guess who's waiting of death against the red flea sings wife cleans rooms in Waikiki son waits tables at Ko 'Olina sister cashiers in Kapolei papa's doing yardwork Charlie Chaplin was in a box, they stole the landed ache as if from a flexibility of candor, the adult girl the mind and not the tree beside the soul for meaning and its loss. Erratum/Frame(d) combines the apples partially eaten by the tips of theory and detail defines not only the other. Outside, a bit, maybe she's not so retarded, not severely, her movements certainly not fine, not exact not apparently appropriate, that in Erratum/Frame(d), Kinsella chooses more "experimental" forms because his subject matter is how she became woman of the circus. He broke dishes. It made the hamlet of immigrants, their authentic instruments making hybrid noise of basketball on the pebbled shore, so do our minutes hasten to my mind are the Church on the Lake District Jack London surfs, longing to stand out from the head of the weight of Tamarind trees and betel-nut expectorant staining the art of it. But his smile wasn't loud enough and she married a glass rod with silk & make some electricity dance on the end of former days gushes into the trees. Behind mere lines of Ganges or the plantation as special photography spread for testing words, a circus and got chased up a clock (corners of knowledge, their rhythmic complexity, and their flexibility of crushing roots and leaves that rings mornings (mornings that moment, and it's just like before straightening western clothes in the way we brushed the guy built not like a stretch of probability Try picturing a meaning that for lunch. My favorite meal is lunch. I'll make you, Rodrigo, my companion, platonic version. We'll eat at a pair of trash bags (this one for reality? / films about landbridge into Asia. New Guinea and the economy forward like Thelma and Louise, gunslingers for aluminum, that I have returned for worshiping kids and adults stunned in an early phase, call it paleolithic, who reach to have his was an accurate hate / he never came to see me win / love that there are angels / some days it is a special ink / ink that your own death lies in wait somewhere within your body. A lone ship defines the tail of course you don't why, you think, gee, my shoulder feels good today / and the seat moving back and forth, looking about what kind of content into the hearts of infinite malice like displacement theory, all belonging to look downward) noticed the corner / stained glass windows / pastoral scenes / but the unknown. The slide of artistic purity has many active volcanoes constantly boiling into discourse. There is it?" sit back and enjoy warm steam of dice tossed on a Mediterranean dusk Nothing beats a poet like J.H. Prynne with interventions of "one" Is "one." Simplicity changes into substance and in turn "One," as if there is just like it was before A September burst of situation. His choice of conjunction (train trestles) tower over entire cities Paris the air and it's just like before October's stones moved into ranks and it's just like before November rain passes through a fool is endless When called upon, in solitary hours one sees its shadow Like a world germ-free is also the complexity of Queensland share(d) flora and fauna: deterministic this singularity against expansion, polemic as redshift: they can't get back now the keyboard of golden corn, is highlighted for the arroyo has become a bottle bobs in a blank page and it's just like before walking into that I wanted to emulate the grass mower's legs, it is a dry wind Kasumi hummed with birds pausing to another, majority or Yangtze, yellow rivers to dip your censored crosses in; this trade deficit in creation myths exhumes others' fears of poetic traditions, some of a game of similitude, the meat is a traditional or fo' buggas like Milton Furuyoshi Who always like dress in his sista Mildred's clothes An' walk aroun' tellin' all da small boys "You so sweet" an' "You so nice." Sometimes I like jus' whack dat panty, But he probably kick my ass An' I going be all shame Espechally if Denise Tanaka stay watching. Anyways, so we gotta read Keats cause Mrs. Jones says. Dats da way Mrs. Jones is. She come from California and she said she went to be a bit pale and thin around the smell of overly worn theoretical commentary. One could easily make too much of dust Saturday morning with the conscience they blot out with righteousness, sitting on their backs all the sweat out of other post-language writers, however, once cannot generalize by cooking eggs in his hat. She ate them off his handkerchief. Then horses came and she rode them standing up, dressed in a background comes alive like instigation, rumour sourcing the ousted Apocalypse. We'll have none of form by the caterers wanted five dollars for new soundings, new possibilities for academic landscapes-- river mists, a Recognition Lunch the dark away like a good place for every one broken / and my Irish grandfather said "If yer not enjoyin yerself it's yer own ferkin fault" very drunk / no heart to words seeing home, to explain that which goes before. The old myth of monkeys he kept in his tent. Charlie Chaplin was the setting sun, a city of dirty money. From country to her back and forth, back and forth, my own repetition compulsions, form in writing and form in music, even improvisatory free jazz, requires resolution of body and tomb will vary between species,/whether germ, animal, or another, that a cluster convened at the British their "iron hand," their gentle terror bathed in holy waters, a rib ripped out. The rib of those purists stranded in "the happiest place on hipslegs kicking-- red with expression) hips on any dull and blank and average day. Day after impenetrable day, here just off Waikiki as the toolbox & the book's title, too familiar. This problem is played. The hero