Tuesday, April 1, 2008


bracken in the Blake (you clang)
contraindicative critique
and rose to prose you pose
your way through dominoes

complain and I'll be riddaya
now and then and for the future
all of us can bend or not bend
and the ammo in the garden

will give rise (may it give rise)
to crabgrass hogwash pattycake
and sludge you give me variosities
your scorch far from my porch

means porridge hipstitches
away from deluge why don't you
endemic to the few whole gardens
romp beside astride the muse

and bowl a strike or some
such big circuit-breaking avenue
to wall oneself off from and brood
and say selfhood is just so full of snoot