mosaic drag on prepositions
leave us leave us all of you
genitive conditional how may we
say no how many say now
more named than adjectival
pop into the old revival
and say hi to god dead dropping
sleeping here is your wallet
the commune was further than this
out of the fascist into the kitten
fast, fast like when a house goes up
famous like god but slower
house your mother make cereal
moral tone flakes or was
it a mutter a comb breaking
face tone and mirror image
ancient of daisy chain riddling
on that side, under the shadow
timing rated our possession but
we couldn’t comment on time
how much moreso the watchmaker
commenting on a gasp with his
bracelet, his meaning, his hasp
what they tell me when they talk
is that the machinist will have nothing
more to do with the wrench
it cut deep into his leg, and mother
ran down the hill and we couldn’t
let her in because she would have
tried to heal everyone and bandage
our wounds with her loving care,
her careful love, her leaving us to
our own dependence. the story was over
before she wanted it to end. father grilled
meat and it didn’t mean anything
like the story of your life, breathing
the bread and each hamburger bun,
what could the neighbors know of
writing against the grain in the oak
in a card trick they see the stain of
clouds and lines they drew, nailing
the sand to the cleft to the berry bush
very busy the angels were barking
and it’s only in the tents we could see
a definite pattern of visions that
approaches our impossible wayward
houseless procession in a forest named
naked in a possession named you are
never here when we need you again
racing for the reach that beckons
through the breach, harrumphing while
the same thing happens over there
but nothing happens to that line
if you’re talking about grammar, not
by half of your hair or a pin dropping
on sand or space-time with a sincere
wish that you have a Merry Christmas
absolutely fresh this time around it’s
got to end now too many foreskins
growing thick and supple on the pop
ulation’s upper lips, what kind of pro
phecy can you get out of that noise,
asshole ranching like a summer morning
drift over the adverbs (this time, for
instance) past the peaches and the life
of any apricot you pluck, what leopard
spots do they hope will chance by in
their provocation? the lies wrench out
like a dull wrenching, the hands ply in
and torque the cedars where they’re
creaking, levirite margarine I wedge
your butter to my knife-cut bread
in the heaps outer legend erased the
want or the heavening crossed wind
got lime in search of a bacardi bird
I have to leave my car in the shop
with the machine maker stone dead
all day Wednesday with my mechanic
waker tone weep for the sage turn
quoted name is again another time
a rhyme for heard but not written
apple makes the same sign scabby
retailed like timing or have you seen him?
that doesn’t strike me as what I would
ask someone in a convertible to do
there he is, tugging at his old ambition
mosaic drag (it’s the parts of speech, stupid)
