Dutch people go Dutch. I go along.

I’ve moved to the Delft coast, Rijswijkse Waterweg, dunes of Irontown, because my ideal climax is at the salt shore’s edge, just across from Spread Eagle where I’ve bagged the dainty, ultra built new guy who lives at the priest’s house, along with the priest.

I hate everything about that
self-reflective, Gothic proposal (the same old..) you faxed to the sub-office..

Pardon me while I disband our friendship.

                                        ##

[Restoring your feeling is one of my hobbies.]
It’s a difficult style..

                                        ##



That slap in the face harder to explain now.

Traffic jammed under the apartments
A lemon sliver caught in my nose.
Tangy..
Ex-Romeo and Eurydice. Just a wedge.

Moving backward. We’ve been sensing this for cars are boxy no, more rounded and pointed again. As mortal participants in consumer culture, we would grab any phone if offered, but what is this cheesy line up from the right wing? — I thought we already had that. There’s the iPhone, then, and now that Brown v Board of Education is reversed, the misery of recidivism with un-earnest twists — economic, stylistic, preternaturally political — disaffects our days.

[drafted 2007]

How to pronounce an umlaut.

The flip side of formalism, the in-yr-face improvisers hold our attention. [‘We’ = a match in perseverance.] Hannah Weiner is perhaps our most performative, non algebraic example. The young John Wieners (and I’d stress the elder more). There are texts and opuses that look unplanned and freely improvised. Can algorithms be improvised? The human names are familiar. O’Hara, Ceravolo, stretches of Notley, Mayer. Sometimes Spicer, sometimes not. The wildness of not knowing where each is taking us would be a common satisfaction. Today’s practice comprises the layering of plans and improv; post-Coleman we speak openly of fake jazz in music and look for positive results. Similarly, the fake improv of atomized procedures — to point to a spreading phenomenon — allows for a number of rhetorical questions — Can algorithms be improvised? — along the way to sketching a counter addendum (nachträglich) between plan, no plan, an entry to inquiry about where writer and the writing are going.

How to win. You have a wicked hand in this.

Speaking of the pure land, he wrote he over her,

            & solon
                        ture

Deposited above belated utterances under shod structure.
[As a loan officer who writes regularly she cans herself um
To delete something and call it his...]

I see your idea. Gnarly aviation.

Purity of the surface deed’s record perked into light

              handily.

Private property struts, wound up slugged ghastly from penmanship,

A ’contract’ in big physics on its back.

There’s envy of haters’ swimming synchronized, beyond prayer —

With or without personal anecdotes you global capitalists itemize all bets.
One pleasure is borrowing sentences to raise our
Consciousness:

All experience is seriously correct..
But what is?

How can it if I tell you what I’m?

I’m in no hurry. A life was charged
now curled up on the menu.

(Have to go.)

There I am preaching to your eyebrows.
(Cave safely.)

  

Mitch Highfill
fourteen alba
Situations 2016

At trobar camp all you bring are wet marks on your shirt — there you go — sent,
sotted, eager for songs front and center.

Songs as fluent arguments in daily pleasure, borne in heartbeats and bright keys of fourteen alba, a valentine in free verse about morning after morning encamped with affection, achieving “aerial views,” daily notes “that can be sung.” By “reaching over to what is / now your side of the bed,” Mitch Highfill sweeps us in, “I wake up before you, / and roll over to watch you... // your... hair spread out like a splash.” Mitch feels more than “landmark” heat “back to back”; he and his other “can buffer / time beyond a given intensity.”

Left alone, a crooner is nostalgic: “I open my eyes / look to the ceiling and return to the world I was enjoying before / I woke...”; again, “holding / what you left behind, knowing / I would navigate the simplest / maze to take me back...” More often, Mitch delivers notes to what’s visible and close: Notes to the sky “washed clean and blue”; to figs “ripening all / at once”; to a “smile while you sleep”; to “the fence festooned / with squash vines.” (In that last note we ‘recoup’ the lexical force of festoon!)

Most fortunate, there’s up time propaganda: “legs / entwined and gently moving / to a music only we hear.” The workout is physical, “greased for sun” and “burning in / the pit of my stomach,” extending the trobar’s desire for “another hour to replenish molecular / relationships under our skins.” Counters to all this glamour are well timed, bringing the exquisite other back to earth — “your feet poking out”; “you / are mock indignant. / Thankfully.” Or trobar brings Mitch’s feigned panic into clearer view — I “make coffee, and make a great / show of having to leave...” I’ll say these poems are more than affectionate. They inhabit a state of grace that’s carried away “into your ear. And it is.”

Running as an independent?
Not me. Anyhow, I can’t keep up with news cycles. It's too much for a standard bearer. Besides,

Some men just want to watch the world burn

for Tom Clark

for

For the last doomsday, veils, desserts, sorts of
rd were all over thus

Stripped us of our exaggerated status and worth.

And you could intuit indecisiveness of a national i.d. and hardened m.o. from silences, retakes and feral scents of feeling cornered in a soulless piano bar

Until fixed with

Yeah the diction. She wan’t oin to lt he peronaity
to hear that still rests on firmness.

for Auden

for the program administrator

God bless you. For this seminar you like everyone care.
You let them. It’s enormously fluid now..
It’s always smart and dumb modulated, coming out to play, sampling..

It’s even added over the door to regard this turn of the last century, a wormhole, no
less, sensitive to oblivion preceding essence, thanks to an earlier fauvism.

We chose casual photographs along the shuttered hallway,
once had an interest in
ing great! Those brands are awesome announcing um, they’re
digging in bins. I watched. Grad students unemployed.

A sight to eat. Even egalitarians are grounded w/ fashion-relevant concepts, calling out
and backing them up w/ inexact and multiplying bluff sounds
we were finding before updates [give us a second..] took hold,

*

A college like Toothmark (one of the mills) has become a live swap.
Hey I’m suspended! per Elmo the Third.

Evasion foregrounds style and motives.
Reading Delmore Schwartz repeatedly gives me head.
We or most of us have a destiny, after all. But it’s after-hours inside earnest emotions.
To vocalize what’s sunk in, I don’t worry or pierce my ears further.

for Lisa Jarnot 





Who will you be when we take up past lives

or linger over oranges, apples, a blackjack of planes

and volumes of ourselves in the polish of gaming
from which we now resign, in grace (3 cherries).



Oldest life, oldest touch in the darkest town

(someone’s lyrics) buckets of reds, of someone’s colors

in towns of red streets, carnival streets

of wine in bottles, women and men in

shards of streets of seers, as if towns of air.



I toast anyone else holding the perfect suit

in focus, carnival glass, red goblets letting the workday

slide away. Afterward, I leave home and go to college

and get involved being there facing the sky. I win, I win.
Tell me, poem.

Knocked up by tyranny and apparatus, unattainable vote totals involve dull intrigue and romance, equipage of the half-taught or self-illumined. An inured slice of childhood domains.

So I liked primary grades more. Later, in romantic poetry, one waved breathing up, swollen within a radiant distance — wearing nothing but a motive for eagerness to do what we were afraid to be?

Disrespect feels like eavesdropping. I lived the peach flash thru that witless dialectic. I drank your Labrador tea. And for doctoral research I took up free, motorized speech.

Hold on, I was handed this bag of sentences.

The music brokerage remains in aerospace.

A morning flew by.
My best friend is my
most erotic partner. It’s a cooperation.
But nature’s purpose has nothing to do w/ that.

It’s snowed,
attack dogs toughing it out, snow
melting before white statuary. Of cats.

The Flying Nun does not exist. Scant dissonance, no disruption. There are
Appearances, such as a vantage baseline, shopping boundaries.

Monkish antinomy left the office to half-
Center on taking off for pinier points;
My 3-D models are you & everything else I can be w/ w/out you
& chaos in the air again.

It dawns on me
Before it’s blasted onward chaos’s utterly offhand
— having seen it, married it earlier I’m where
The kettle of urgency is

& I don’t mind if I look worn or beaten up. I’m wearing

The international costume, stretch poplin, in a trance.

“The float is radiant, jammed with radiant things,” had

Simon Schama anticipated, not long ago, “but no, had I bee-
n eloquent on the spot we’d need no caption.”

The float anticipated the base point ..
What does there’s still a move to go do?
“It’s just a feeling, the only unmoving part.”

The float seems to learn aides can be unwelcome overnight:

“And here the float inserted a bonus to exchange and not so bad —
a physical act of fondness that can only end in a draw sustained one by one
getting up, stretching for an hour.”



After glamour there’s power. The virus is already inside us, wo-
lfed down improv crap, we’re pre-wired or is there a fee?
Radiance now is the lather of swing. Remember deliverance?

“What if it doesn’t work. Then what?”
In every time and place of our choosing: Act gathered.

Libido and new ways to be policed are on man’s brain (one of any pulse); the first few words take on character. I’m trying to clean this up [snip] I have to leave enough ‘intent’ to keep him happy after he’s finished I’m finished. This is an exemplary yet limited procedure, so I’m framing it tight as in manufacture...

− it gives one a glimpse into conditions shaped for war or “The Owl and the Nightingale.”

I’m talking to you in American.

Not going to lie to you, I watched us dream economics affecting a radius, destabilizing its temperament. Looters and rhombus-gatherers, all doing well respectively; it’s great work, cuts straight through its own restructure creating more chopping patterns to abandon.

The chip becomes a background to soundtracks. Entire sectors of us feel it’s about time, epic sums in new slender totems. The walkway and instrumentation

are redone in full combat. Let’s clink Solo cups, wondering about tidbits of hyper-literal churning depth. It might be feminists were on genome probation.

This is that world’s decision theory now. (Ideologues always get stuck in the last line.)

He lived in Cambridge beside a confection of labs
OK I see I mean in his hot boil

de-boarding the T.. — is it in memory or fear?
There’s a hypothetical of passivity
putting you first, smaller democrat than the original.

Aggressive government feels
what’s less to happen if citizens pay for something here —
orange pylons are noteworthy

— they cost as much as a cab
‘all the way to another planet’

I miss knishes.
Passion motifs shouldn’t die.
Live to be admired.
How people talk.

That poem last month in The New Yorker. We’ve gone over this.

To aggregate is to achieve; that said, a file results, followed by deficiencies in overdrive, ideas in other words. Be true, all the same, this is the second point.

Adorno says unelaborated speech starts over in the middle but it’s a real dreary beginning, as it were, marked by both natural and technical flaws, requiring a choirmaster’s joy in tricky intersections. (There may be more formlets of the newer mystery avoiding one another’s silence in the face of attainment.)

Now my head is charged.
(Have to go.)

There you are preaching to tenors that need you.
(Drive safely.)

Selfportrait with clippers fighting blood sugar.

[RNA follows commands. It’s a collective.]

I remember this thru 3rd parties.

Sunrise. Whose-ever rhyming system — Uhmmms calls up oblong homonyms,

Playing back strings to pop songs —

[Earle Brown in the audio ground..]

Mashing stencils into phosphate tads, keep-saking ourselves.

They have a sentence for paradigms.

You and I are adding up wait time you say, keeping our eyes busy on that panoptic sentence for everything.

At the cautionary turn they still come up with innuendos to bag the half-orchid-half-gold, a toss-up.

In other words, please be true.

So I put my name in. Am I fit for that? Are you and I?

(I ran out of balls rating you. I found you driving me wall-eyed, as well..)

Data are fairly adulterated.

This is not a sonnet, s’up? 2 B brief,
This tingle is weird, while

keeping face, lust orchestrates my speech / tho
orchestrate is mostly imprecise. Time spent, 11 minutes a couplet or so.

There was something we could share before,

for a type of world we are
in and of the vicinity, seen seeming on top (of it). Each

1 grows fit like a glove.

Yesterday’s children mirrored, acquiescently super
and we’re good — w/ that?

That’s an indirect but not unserious question.

After gym we’re told colors of our sternums run high then low, unlikely yet foreseeable
Even 11 minutes ago.

Once your public is mounted you can add your own awesome content!
Your first lover.

He could heal you thru.
Then the forces of narrative happened, seeing your breath fixed
on the floor as it circles midair,
and we see your ETA.

We won’t be a second late — your ex boyfriend
understands we can all meet seeing you.

That’s the gist.

Bernie, Hillary, one’s had one’s fill of parallel truths.

For example, Che returns. He acts out opening credits for a new revolution,

The will of the living & well armed faces Scene 1:

Wire sculpture as an abstract tortilla

Scene 2: Understanding light years of atomic structure if

& when Scene 3: Can you walk thru what ethos grows empty of teaching w/out a semblance of the sacred?

Getting started: Customize by setting higher meaning to the no-merit style.

(Some nun asked him not to go into this.)



That aside, highlight one path. One you can reselect in the auditor menu under the ‘cut off everything’ simplification: To get rid of styling on a bit of doctrine or prior schooling, just choose ‘clear doing’ to reorder fresher formats & inserts with juicy laminates —

Now in place a lilac-dark abode, Earth.

Emily’s neighbors.




None here. Their inexistence left over. Ideas were opening as sides; logos is the entree. Enchilada. Pessimisms float a mathematics of situation (Thoreau) and unstructured white sky, satiric multiples (Wieners, Ricard). The contextual effects themselves like New England — which reservation? — become more fearless (less indiscernible) when innocence, acrobacy and banishment partner, vaunting in plain English. The glue is a content to the non extant. 


A rubber duck’s victims assume a moral duty. At least if they’re not buying, they each take a look.

The wind is howling out here thank you very much.



Though there’s irony to lecturing to square insult comics

— young bodies keep moving, the elders seem alienating..

Clouds part,

The aerodrome roars .. it could be laughter in introspection;

Everything’s

Smug, sated with the urge to fit nothing else in. Slapdash.

That’s how square comedy works. If it’s funny today,

Tomorrow, what’s the transition? We had a pleasant

Sencha yesterday. (I strengthened my attention

Last night as a result.)

In the interim I have written over 1000 jokes

Getting warm. Warmer. Some have kind eyeholes. A rubber duck’s victims assume a moral duty.

What if there’s a non-theist way to prepare, provide? & what
if we’re both wrong but less wrong than who?

Let’s keep right, left far from fashion’s simplicity, & let’s
live together at night while we demodify

functions that describe preferences extemporaneously; 1st

we’ll fill a lull in motives. There’s inter-force rondure (Eric Dolphy)
as technicians put themselves into canons amid conflated reminiscences,
your honor, after mnemonics took shelter in convenience stores.

(Theseus, below, had raced thru the subway, filled w/ youthful mores.
Asinine language — you can’t call it dialog.) Above, ugly apartments.

Life-draining clothes. Absolute, htighly recommended forment.

Yet the jungle is quiet... too quiet. (Theseus’s ex)


Paganism: One thing is to thank you guys who sent in money. Another is getting and staying in voice to bawl
poll taking is rhetorical. It is, no what if

If for now what if is not that impractical,

I have 1/2 a mind re-imagining Dexter Gordon (it’s easier)
By Corelli as well as my life on a cattle ranch dissolving in wind sheer.

Taking chances put us in this lissome interpretive state (birth), after all. Function varies like dandruff.

We should care, proverbially. And no. No use.

There are arguments out there, a few bitch comedies. Sick

Once in our republic of collaboration
we leaning were democrats.. then we left,

Bye. I’ll butt dial you
egressing, achieving little with any argument intact,
noting mortality in our measure
— to section itches and engagements
— go over, mix more with the census,
eco majors, it’s called an America you worship.

We’ve fallen in line.

But I am confused,
claimant of the photogenic vitamin to stop bleeding
is not a sentence, lacking, useless settling in
meaning in a way — a rain and raincoat of moods, one’s thank you for pastimes
as warm-bodied as visually queuing up for everything.

So you get it now, assigning you to us to go cathartic
is no yes vending graft about dualism
with hand and finger gestures where we get caught chatting.

During the break we reached an agreement,
so the ham’s anger has hatched.. while his endurance
enables the passing tourney (tense Fu owners)
to nuance emotions for the 3-in-1 innocents to proceed.

I remember looking up at you, at —
ahem — feeling an urgency in ideas. Women, men:
We live in a debt growing city state. Maximum restraint
= get it done don’t talk to me.



Pumped with mandatory inflows of feel-
oops, they’re metering to block counterfeiters’
hen of steam: Art of the algorithm, all

Personnel will have to be shifted or fired,
still come to work anyway, achieving a seemly
bliss of the non-willed state, enlightened but as it is, lacking need.

What’s this eyebrow to?

To ask fobs off any acute particularity. It’s the bright intern on the bicycle in a parking lot now nowhere close. Please applaud. Brow fuzz so sudsy it can be substantiated, born by epochs of parallel scenery.

Eyebrows pile up like a snow of socks before a sit-down inside the capitol.

Creature masks are prerequisites, in reprieve at the School of Nobody ;

Teaching can’t be taught. You live within practice
To engage another’s psyche

— you’re always wrong to prolong your appeal.

In a way it just feels like games. Too many credits ..
More pre-cognition than a poem, Bunny

We’re good with “no real choice.”
— one still has pretty good yoga probabilities
Even with nobodies (like us) and ticket holders of dusk
And young wrestlers who portray border patrol..

In a song of our — what do we call our inner selves — all emerge never getting even, debtors at last;
debtors are nice, tho

bank officials had had enough of the tetra borrowers. (It might be better being a big fish instead of a little one.) Next day Ed the clown fish took
a new job in the equivalent of an education cafeteria. Growing up tetra evolve. It’s a

measure of the increasing clout of fish this message strikes you like a fin. This is a message!
aspects of which covered debts by dropping glassy eyeballs in fake vomit



— 9 to 5, even later the sky aspect above the moon flung a short hue of our echelon’s ideology. Climb
anything to get along. Hmmm,
dividing feelings like vendettas, your feet never come back.

They meet on Mt Snow, north of the town offices
first on drenched tho
slackened



shaking the tidal vapor thru no shadow weighed, no


less than ten or more seconds off the slopes



above steps coincided with the light


clipped to the final base blast patching the thaw



— spirals discharge, wind heats the ground and trees open.

A bright spot on the game horizon, we’re beginning to see a need for a blanket authority or foundation to issue antinomian licenses. A nondemocratic institution that constitutes only one of a set to which no democratic or parliamentarian voice matters, no second thoughts, no heuristics, and in which nothing un-elfin or hurtful belongs or stays put, holding ourselves to the test doctrine of multiple shots at Todd’s Miniature Golf.

It’s February somewhere, lots of snow. We’re on our way out after a short film where Jacques
Derrida says eyes never age. He sees that even as I resist it. In the café I can’t resist drawing
Closer to a 17th century scroll occupied by Heian lords, reportedly, unadorned fabric staked to the
Ground as their backdrop, a blend of tarp and a silk threadbare enough to flip off wind within the




Scroll. In the film Jacques recalls his mama crying, “You have a pain in your
Mother.” A covariant on how a thin fabric constitutes the eyes’ hold on the place with

Three ancient physiques depicted there. Before this and maybe after, Janet goes off for a moment
As I watch the ice coating steps to gardens outside the café. The courtyard, one of a pair, was
More striking when it was inaccessible from the coffee area. I remember it emptier than today,
Emptier in its Olmsted marginal effect, not just empty of feeling — even now with more snow and ivy
Along a wall opposite me it was less indistinguishable then, the trees fuller, weaker, how?
There were younger trees, not trimmed? But I take in the courtyard as it is now, hold
It as Janet comes back and we ride the escalator somewhere else.

What’s my business? Aperture systems led me to holding

Volatility models from tv, vocalism in a sense.

Hidden risks shift weight (merge accounts request).

CVS photo counter. I know him, he knows me, I admire him, he back.

Instructions are errands; I’m my own boss.

For all appearances nothing lurid was due at signing. Default



Swaps in reconnaissance are at the barricades.

Bandits 1st.

You translators are a close 2nd.

You appear ok. This was about something else.

Never weep with your pant legs up, banker

Since footwear permeates antinomy.

Finally & meantime — your new agent’s housewarming runs on

(blanched)

Curtains along with slides showing movement inside —

Trolls at the barricades have been taking icky notes where the weather cooperates,

Where reputations precede character, tact of apprehension remains.

Who will advocate for peace for the tranquil to empower the mergers & exchange?

For example.

Ruth Lepson
ask anyone
Pressed Wafer 2016

There are ways to paint, it’s said, while attending to other things, other senses, for example, listening carefully to sax improvisation, feeling thirsty.

If you keep mixing your enthusiasms you’ll be taking from one medium, giving to another as well as yourself — this sensual, sensible give-and-take seems the core of Ruth Lepson’s ask anyone, a libretto of 66 one-page poems. Seeing painting, teaching, writing, performing in this manner lets Ruth make her points with sweeping economy of means and argument. The poem “knowledge in black” visualizes a pun, “switchmen... questions / are green” sleeping “stationery things.” Or:

I’m peeling carrots and I
almost start crying
    isn’t that funny

I was thinking

A few of us think about music, painting or poetry and we’re done with it. I’m glad Ruth thinks on the page to count out vernacular carrots and — I’m going to say — the metaphysical:

...until that time
you’re swimming in the ocean when time becomes
space you no longer swim     as a body

are we done

Finally, I say I’m glad because even the ‘done’ question is left in a green state. The writing here is provocative, agnostic, uncloying, like a good amount of the music she hears and contributes to at the New England Conservatory. Eg., at the publisher’s website you can download terrific recordings of Ruth reading these poems with music written for her texts, performed by Box Lunch — hence ask anyone, libretto and more!

Without counsel, full consent is a slog mating a slow burn.

You trust yourself by age 600 satisfied
Euclidean space holds the blueprints to make your home efficient.

That was before you were reborn or invented.

Recursions set in. You had no modesty issues.
You have none now, none detected, and fewer and fewer policy goals.

You change your shirt, put your weight behnid a sketch (a study)
As there is no theory there isn’t theory
— it’s torture which escalates utterly with

Formalities documented in the eye, so fine counter-stretched, kept on balance / in suspense —

A language tax break is inherited. In this regard sex is peroration.

[As soon as skeptics step o / -ver trays] They paste in genetic material.
[Is soon the word? [We don’t know what we’re not saying..



they seem mostly normal, feasible wanting nothing, just more trays, neighbors
or more going & coming around them, bereft of their own desires & systems.

Learning, teaching formulae (like sea boomerangs) latticed on]] It ends our economy, takes us
inside [ the parturifacient facility. We’re not demanding savings where life go- /
es shh. (Smelling pablum, staff set the power to prevent further questions.)

We’re devotees of labor
cut to impel comfort to a textual decimal of the property. ]
This may be why we’ll make notes before tomorrow

& let you know when.

A morning crew, those weathermen
Waving arms over their heads in similar patterns —
This is their 1st stab at tantrics

Boiling sanguine, mad going thru a woman’s pinafore of latitudes, so let them.



They plan on writing love letters by hand
Disguised as glare in coastal space.

Perfect, she doesn’t judge, doesn’t see they’re drawing from other traces,
No matter.