When I Was with You



Enmeshed values constitute the empirical or
it has something to do with sound. It makes them crazy.

If you hide your ego it looks better
blackmailed over meditation spanning the surface, no
message. So there’s nothing to represent, end quote.

Welcome to we’re not friends; one’s a strategic partner \

Classification and career by evolutionary collisions =
One’s work multiplied by adapted preferences, vapor.

I think I love you all-purpose, all calm, never resolved,
Because we’re only one muppet and one marine

In a climate of drumming opinions and best practices —
Our bacchanalia talked up on the spot while it’s slotted in —

Getting tattooed is an addiction to visceral consequence,
Reigning over Proustian project boards, cost curves, etc.



The rescue party experiments with informality, expressive meta
Interaction alloys of function routing.

Terms are, go settle down through the evening and finish your agenda.
Perhaps heartbeats get covered by a shroud that frays,
Un-spools to gain advantage spreading the plan.

Sonnet: We’re not all to blame for moral guitar installments following a plan-check. Our aim, a passover variety and perspective having to change — this will only take hours since it’s a kind of not-forever with evergreens’ ruined direction, ‘ the walking of light & ballet out of chat..’ ..unending walking , brightness across the street from that — one would kill to be of this perfect beach, ready to go — so twist ties just got better) —
                                                That night they enter, have been with us it’s amazing how “ they simply pass” their overreach.

Maybe win a prize. Really maybe.

Maybe win a prize. Really maybe.

*

Free tote. $1.00 a week.

Sonnet: It’s irreparable.

But it’s in the repair shop because

It is the repair shop.

I’ll do what I can. Another day, slim odds. Almost the same as hopeless;

Different jokes turn over in sleep,
I .. Hey



.. I talk in a low register to get inside my face. My brow sports layers of sleep
relief, aching in baby, cutely accruing intimacy to belie despair over zero gravity.
So there’s no dead end!

It’s affordable Noh. That’s us with big hanging wolf eyes.
What goes around then comes gasping, the more irregular the breathing —
looks like he’s breathing! A spoon worm lives inside the womb,
a male redback dives inside the reproductive tract!
Into his mates’ fangs just to get eaten while copulating!

ダ— ク * キンボルです...

I’m pegging Seth MacFarlane Aegean-ward. There’s so much history,

Shadow sensory awareness, the chosen medium,

Flowers are em-poisoned by design, grateful dancers oozin’ adrenaline

for us little Schuberts, lecturers, saboteurs of the heart,

sons and daughters in search and rescue to catch every exception lean ’n low.

Yet our language is set on war cry, plain

holy shit!

w/ a headless figure hammering out Bo Diddley. Panning back to lend bulk.

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.

I shave in a symbolic realm.



An image transplant enforces the knowledge affect where cloud equivalents prosper on a narrow isthmus, watching the seasons float in willpower. I never understood an image of insinuation. I never misunderstood it, either, a civilized divide teasing all attitudes into an admonitory tableau sponged with saliva. 



Most of the algorithms are just fine. You can go right in. They have an open table.

Cupid is a hired gun who goes anywhere. Cupid’s id? It’s a violent, smoking culture so we need straight talk.

It’s a gay culture so we need that. We’ve been up
for two centuries fighting overseas.
Head-on war is a mistake (Diane di Prima).



Yet we always won, until Vietnam, fair, square, smoking.

Cupid’s appeal? Head-on appeal is stark
for pacifist taste. Here, that’s speaking practically
just as shoulders tilt
half a second, the long answer’s in his move
you can scream, open and enjoy.

I don’t know. Yes. Details collect. It’s a mad softness where
we’re going over one part, step after Santa Claus step
as mating instruction and human rights,
the amp and pan point in overdue time.

Flames stink up the place. Hay on fire. Let’s dump all this way in the rearview, leaving footholds in town, doubles of blurs in dizzy luxury, punching thru colorless straws and spheres.

Hay savors just punishment as regulatory propriety could and does care less, looking to nominal trivia thru guilt to found paradox — exactly what we reject or recoil from, summoning logical defenses to explain a Hail Mary.

O Mary, our neighbors are inflamed imbibers of the heterodox polemicist’s code.
Silly, wily, superficially yours, we have other ideas.

Our last owner had an understanding with multiple staff.
His happiness washes up in our DNA.

O we celebrated, beaten but breathing in what’s next.
We have a most advanced gene distribution system.

Try to look better.

*

A {most-

Ly random swagger for the catch)

(Trained} staff encourage sampling
Coerced by the life of the owner’s party speaking.

I’ve quit writing to have sex.

The big wigs belittle my complaints. This doesn’t make sense —
I’m back on the beat in a flash.
Snipers crouch, the idea of Burberry’s.

We disappear, and we have children and they disappear.
Freedom is personal. Our supply chain is the one we go for —



*

In our heart of hearts we’re wading out to meta-trigonometries ..
with a natural moon shining its belle-lettrist metamorphoses over the slip, damning loose ends everywhere giving wind sheer every opportunity..
to let us go. On.

Up. Now.

Do you know how to stay flat?

Allies in the bottom half prove erratic,

Swaps pit compassion against costs

As more pay by phone; a team of recluses scrambles to keep up.

Likin’ a candidate is as good as voting.

Like you I converted. We’ve become clients. Then came the filching of imitation in which..

.. Frosty’s puppets aggregate every last breath.. punches of text look great on touch mobile!

Broken, misunderstood.

Down here we let this happen, kept in the park, phonemically.

舞踏

As in Where the 舞踏 were you?

Modulating the self comprises an apotheosis
according to types of daring.

Note to self.. we like transaction-ready forms.
It could be a modulation to move around
northern flickers and masked ducks

Far off across their replicas. Buddy-power?
Possibly 10 feel well enough in the getaway hybrid

Grr (in French), merciless itch, what’s that center of travel?
Passing thought solved for X “casting
of cities” thinking past us. A true 2 years before
messing with U. Why did we wait?

Living in Bergen

An etude like celebrity made chaos “work,” absent trifles, sobbing delayed knowing one or two things but not all.
He was unsuitable to flirt..

The odd delay repeated.

The music took off about here. It looked wonderful along the quays with breakpoints to adjust, thinning out in the style of ending ().

In each house there’s a whole difference.

In Grieg’s place we have newer math, the other stuff we just pick up

From blithe and highly egotistical boy girl )wo(men..



(the last adverb a guitar hero patched in)

You and I make out very slowly with a shower curtain
on televised football.

The management didn’t say anything
about our pulse rate. Or is it just to remind you?

Ancestors understood by these shelves we housesit,
(the last verb a guitar hero patches in)

Any fantasy,
another I guess is where we part ways.

You and I work out very slowly with a shower curtain
on televised football.

The management didn’t say anything
about our pulse rate. Or is it just to remind you?

All meanings are the full meaning.

It’s no single fool’s doing, making it easier to borrow. Clenching-tight

I’m sorry so sorry — Can you sing that? from a reveler on a roll, keeps forgetting

What she’s rocking on about

Every day you change your life.


[Earle Brown in the audio ground..]

You had every opportunity to reset the agenda —

Ergo the invention of worship is over..

(so much over: the topic is civility, imparting numeric dicta slathered across century-old middle ground) a themeless module (where we sleep) fields of action (and continue playing around innuendo to stay kind, as you undress to force a smile) fully emancipating me from not feeling obliged to receive you generously, keep it together.

It’s a bitch comedy.

To execute your thought is itself recursive, beside the thought —

Far-out crops — banks hate this

No danke. Just piano and voice. Piano, voice, practice.

The big meal. Inductions to your other habits;

Just because you and I were snarly, externalizing these ideas.

The gleaming haze drags down sculptures of felted helium

— raw nerves done over by spinning in warm wind.

Stuff. I don’t yet know the stench of snow, sunlight, of your utter loss

— of whatnot in over the counter contextuals and scent, your scents.

— the drill of local news, temperature, an hour of indebtedness, mayhem, a fascinating stack of known challenges — locality reduced to the economy, co-rejecting isms off center. Both influence perception, both engage what leftists and the right make up as sources. Nothing in between. Nothing to uphold. Bitch. Bitch.



We are free — still — to say what some think — their recipes or ours are per theorem. Trees in place, defiantly miscellaneous, thanks to a compliant Leitkultur, a treeway on a berm, backdrop to the ideal undemocratic union with permissions built of headwinds —

Headwinds with as it were or without manners. Good manners can scar others but they also let us peons act like participants in marking time as tho subscribers to the norms of plutocracy.

Either way, we know so little about the state and the state knows this means something
but not enough.

The front gate won’t front,
There are centers of wishing beyond closed doors.
All batteries charged (that’s the feeling). I’m pouring molasses over my track pants ‘stitched’ with microfiber — I’m about to walk the spiral and more!
[Well, we knew m’lord was a prevaricating, bloodlust child — the writs of Rolfe d’Hampole had warned — unceasing sycophant, his incarnadine shadow spilt down dim stairwells to redden more, divagating before aspen branches in nightfall, exhorter of few changes, hardly any.]

Next, dinner and dancing in precision blizzard-words.

Hands in the air.
No motives — the harsh gets exaggerated!
After lovemaking, performance ...

I hate everything about us, that
Gothic sonnet 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..

                                        ##

We’re both harder to explain now. A head-on view..



Something inside snapped.. Try a poetics in coma..
I wouldn’t dream of it.

Meta-delivery. Ooooooops.

The coast is never clear, fat boy .. .. Try leasing cigars ...
I wouldn’t dream of it.

*
I’ll take it.

We’re socialist by nature, maintaining perspective (the tatemae policy). I’m spooked
While cashing in analytics
(lifting data off) to mine parallelisms (partisan gold).

Eurozone class struggle is more and more slippery. Or peach-dreamy. I’m
Not sure U.S. discourse product pertains. A shrine of axioms certifies wealth and income
Consultancy, honing one into two dimensions on the surface.


Atheism is otherwise the main event up at the Hague. Here, secrets of satire float
Free to find an informatics of doors opening (bassoon music) and structured
Multiplicities (an ear for sex).

Are you healthy enough for perfection in a gridded environment?
A stencil of our dialog frames others yet usual speech subverts expectations
Like these sharp pellets slicing through the blood pointing down and out one’s feet.

May I wish others well, not rejoice in their ill fortune, reconcile hurt friends. May I not turn away
Friends in danger. When visiting anyone in grief may I use healing words. May I respect myself.

— 3rd Century

I was never in 2 places enough to ask permission
(trying to sneeze paid better)

so that got to itch.
Went on forever. The point?

U mostly remember the oblong homonyms,
playing back strings to a shout.

Got that as a keepsake myself, before.

Even a good start won’t stand for practice — hey
not while the restless recover from numbness :
Recruits blessed for pleasure, els of light, identical, emotionally
extrapolated from their super-definition :

It’s up for grabs now, where they ensile a streamline
for joy in wooden enclosures, a caricature of hard play,
off in duets in the eco-imagined before-the-point.

In not struggling with comparative vulnerability to vie for solitude,

I pursued insight by the numbers; that’s one business: of liberal arts.

Secure oases cannot be considered in terms (other than numbers); our oasis is brilliant enough

with enough laughter impelling comfortable indeterminacy.

A given. Someday.

Damn, can’t complain, when your children
left we had chipmunk..

Next to nothing, and a white winged crossbill
went berserk, wet bubbles.

Sleep has no idea of here and now
when everything is the right answer;

We made contact then for a time
inspired by registering w/ you

Whatever we thought about speaking,
Better than sleeping —

Watching you spin like sentience
“refined by distance” since that’s the last of

Climbing into casual spectacle, ritually putting
your life together, keeping your drift ..

Postlanguage. What the heck is it? It’s historical, chronological fact. Ahh! Something something that follows the first language generation, some hyper criticism of now that may sound tonal for a moment, that may open into al fresco narrative if it has to, because the visual is back — what a relief! — at least bits of a hungry lyricism or para-lyricism, then, among other options amid political downtime masking horror. One key is that there are options for urgency (“calling out to you,” almost personae-driven) to compete with reflexive linguistics (“invasive assertions crowding in…”), both unfolding measuredly within a list of grievances (even as the calling is drowned by discursive officialese — “giving onto. Making free with”). And this, just because this is also key — postlanguage is often best practiced by language poets, as with this text published in The Likes of Us eight years ago: “Where Once It Was Deemed An Advantage To Know So Many Words,” a title so layered with critique, we can absorb it all in one swoop.



seeing how the tables have turned



that terrible foreknowledge sinking into the west



Those vasty deeps calling out to you



the imperial aloofness of the overpass, the flyover, the dress-rehearsal,

the four-in-hand, the signature cowlick



NO FOOD USE -- FOR DISPLAY PURPOSES ONLY



a top-down command profligacy



the alike. The superb, canny sloth flecked with benign rancor



prompting for any sign. As in, “I wonder what the poorer rabbits are

doing this season?”



A gorgon demonstrating motion furniture. A giantess astride the 
Bowery



nameless and unshod, the invasive assertions crowding in upon us just

before the return-date



the wayward surgical appliance stumping across the access road



giving onto. Making free with. What was once afoot, and bruited



Gas. Food. Lodging



shriven and rent, all-too-knowable, that low mittel-european scent like

a serge […]



— Michael Gottlieb

Objectivists, beats, language, unoriginal geniuses, or what you and I are, the further you go out in time the descriptors for these moves or movements peel off. These are people who hang for motives. They’re facilitators intaking social verbs, nominalized. (Beats more so, and less.)

Nomads at the museum.

The castle walls are this conference. First up, a soulful lab mix of appliances and Beats.

Literally nothing is granted, nowhere

There’s another centerpiece to explain how flowers are cut as progressions.

Iconoclasts count them in a series, along with any allure of falling cornices.

They did (in plurals).

Now months later, it’s good news
Since you wait for new word, not empower others.

Everything belongs hiding in plain sight, on the ground, no hinge,
Ornamental to a point... our brain / body fiber pierced 24/7, point two... to start

Terpsicore is ascetic, improvisatory, sherbet hued like Erato, a voice of suspicion, hisses.



Let’s put this less sophomorically.

Basically existence precedes essence asleep on the leaf. Mostly.

Anyhow, a steel door opens. Here are the last letters of bliss.
(We best defer to the series to differentiate ourselves.)

Deep blues and silvers with biological shades to form vowels;
Consonants have already taken shape from older models.

This organizes five minutes infinitely without saying bless your heart.

*

1)

Read Ashbery from the back forward: Defense owns — there seem — accents — these:
reticence such on put days, our
moving and light, puzzling in place
of morning winter smiles .. a chorus

Emerges which on canvas ..
noises w/ filled already silence ..

2)

Here’s a proposition. Start over. Compelling work toasts knowledge construction — in plain speak — as well as finds, explains & reforms infinitesimal times-spaces. Your optimism is required (a) to keep everything open for reform; (b) to understand we are beginning the work and as a species, we will always be at, in as well as be the beginning.

3)

Not wanting to be cowardly. That would be a problem.
Write visually.
It’s wise to move to the city, scripted
by infantile ambition, well groomed.

Food tastes better; crunchy leaves
underfoot and wearing your panties, walking
the park I apologize
doing this.

Once an apologist it’s for life — you need
a vertical and a horizontal bar, libido time, you’re on a star range w/
blank tenderness to smolder in met
colors, galvanized pastels, winning the beginning —
preparing the manifold, earlier..




4)

Dustbin Starter Kit, wrap collected work of [fill in your name of the poet] in loose pages from today’s NY Times.

5)

Can’t Feel My Bouncy Face After Party, TBA, everything you touch is gold, I remember. Any one thing is a ‘sculpture’ of its original idea.

Stanza:

How or why don’t we know LA language, our language, can shrink WS Burroughs to one of those diamondback-cardigan clad bargain-seekers moving around Best Buy? now he’s off trampling security to save on a cartesian flat video, angling and protesting airily ‘to cheat Peggy and the Fates’ .. the Gorgons hidden from passersby, canyons away, until it was too late for them? Passersby, not canyons. I wrote a ‘constant feeding of androgyny fortifies the muscular constrictors as well as our big sister, Peggy.’ Astonishing, a cornet!



Two decades ago I loved your mother and father.

I digress: I’ve got your back that’s looking deep and allowing, pleasant.

Parable: It’s nice to be interrupted thrice.

Dear January,

I went to your reading dreaming of cutting out. I thought I went outside and cried. I
need a new sum of things, just remembered. A heart shaped culinary thing holding
my tongue on the verge of resisting you, thanks to notes of civet and benzoin. In
the right daylight, polygamy itself atwitching, acquainted with men’s affairs —
“In each house he has a different name, adopted to sever the head
from the vines.” That’s an odd thing
to say, are you in or out?

Another thing, I want all the trees shaken.

Pierre Bourdieu fires a projectile: "Magnified preferences ['levels of
taste'] within capital distribution are stopgaps like butt paste or discount cosmetics while
less prominent anxieties balloon, yearning to be subsumed by bigger ideas.
Like on that trip to Vegas."

Bourdieu gets home to his Cajun kitchen, much later, and hums if
there’s a voice in his head. "We gain knowledge from our shortcomings as well
as genius insights." Well, ah! The shortcoming between having things to say here
and checks-and-balances stuff is nasally inspissated by fear.

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