What about after the 15th of the month?
What's the character for Tenney?
I wake and feel the fell dark not day, not this time it'll
be light in, what, 45 minutes now.
Forms in the world of form start waking around me, gasping
and stretching.
The mirror starts buzzing again.
What is the shape and color of that heart?
Don't know.
I do though.
Checked sweater, rough brown cloth,
Jenny's face cracking in a big smile looking straight at me.
Praise this world to the angel.
Sometimes tears are the form praise takes inside her cancer,
she said.
That's all Santa Fe division, spacious, boingy, and calm.
Tucson predawn report, downtown lights twinkling and hopping
around a little in their furtive dreams splayed open.
Several yellow lights as if more singing around maybe because
of the foreground plate glass window.
In the tanny mirror the alienation
drops quickly into a weighty sadness, a diffusing
tenderness like an old familiar wound, then
nothing at all even the what is that heart that sees them
in the dark drop dousing into the big no pool.
Revenge of the Soto black cave not terrible.
Back to the things themselves, which makes a time gap signal
stratification, self sediment, and striated
through beings dark mud.
Neo futurist ur-Buddhist late modernism
hello synthetic cubism.
Thanks, Leslie is come.
Report from the land of the cave splashed down
into darkness making sloshes till even what is resting
in it dissolves.
Wham!
Tenney comes shooting up out of it into the world of forms.
Hey, I greet you at the beginning
of the great career which nonetheless
nope whomp is the whole of it.
Your tardy sleeping world get up.
Things drowsy in the dark dance the dream tango a little bit
longer though, rippling slowly waking
mirror as little by little they rouse and buzz.
Good thing the heart held them safely all night long.
Slow in the what is the color and form
of that heart which sees them.
My nameless kids in their beds adds, Oh-oh ram gaps.
I call him Baba Ramdam, said his dad.
Farting happily along Kyoto, North Dakota.
Snowfields breaking up seeping to archipelagos
amid the high dry yellow sharp grass.
[INADUBLE] of island.
Oh, New York my prodigal argus.
Thrusts up out of that too original face self
replicates and glints, I love the Chrysler Building.
And the answer to the conundrum of the human
and why we offer this retreat to the enlightenment of bushes
and grasses, which seem to be doing just fine on their own.
The human is what pecks.
The sparrow hunts and pecks at the keyboard waiting for dawn
to get with it in a familiar mix of bliss and somewhat
irritable anticipation.
Three dogs gasping and stretching too in their sleeps.
What is the color and shape of that doggie heart?
Hard to stop typing Gaudy.
Sees biscuits and chompable birds in the drowsy
mirror buzzing it slowly awake.
Tangled up limbs and the dark groin.
Falling back into the pool or shimmying hard up out of it.
I praise the whatever, meaning all of it.
I wanted closure.
Well, cat given lion cut and anesthetized tooth extraction
to boot bedraggled and happy muse at me.
I'm in the dream in the mirror he's trying to roist.
Or is it roust, I guess, or rouse?
Which is it, Fred?
I'm the cat, he says, in cat.
I dedicate the waking mirror of 5:42 AM to the enlightenment
of bushes, grasses, and cats.
Wham!
periplum.