OK.
I'm going to read from several things.
I'll start with a sequential work that's called "New Time"
and read a few things a few pieces
from that or a few poems from that.
This work is actually going to come out--
I finished it a little while back
and it's going to come out as a book from Wesleyan in 1999.
So this was written while traveling and staying in Japan
and also in Russia.
And so it's got a lot of sense of weight and shape
in terms of time and movement and location, landscape.
Silk black iris that's chest, thorax lifted off set down;
weighing it doesn't come from them-- is lifted off breathing,
outside of one--
that is, one-- weighed not in the air,
it is in the air thorax black silk iris not image,
breathing-- in the air, yet weighed--
weighed is it being lifted off the frame weighed,
it in the air black of night isn't dependent.
Why would they dismiss it because it's not the same?
It exists because it's not the same.
Running with bare feet, the snow falling,
after the man clothed in black in the black sky
is the neck cut out in their other's
existence, one's neck cut out blossoms blossomed.
In time.
There's no time to oneself is the dawn occurring, its rim.
It has no rim.
Pressure so that the mind comes into the social unit
it isn't done by people, there's no time to oneself.
It's done by people only, the night, the dawn there.
The constructed unit being no time
to oneself standing being completely alone.
Standing as walking.
Flowering trees float the sky packed luminous sky of ocean
a sky that is an ocean the group,
not having time for oneself, opens
that one floated sky sleep-deprived one pressure so
that the mind comes into the social unit only
the flowering trees, that have nothing but swimming on sky.
We cannot speak as to concentrate on the constructed
unit nor sleep much and that causes an actual harmony,
serial or it's there after a while,
not based on the similarities of the people the night is
exhaustion rains luminous night while running to the rise--
that's dawn is when running to the rise, later the rise
is the floating people.
The small jobs don't break down the night
and without touching it inside, we don't see dawn,
where making sounds saying sounds
as a social unit is making the floating rise
is being awake only it's not different from the dawn
occurring, seen after after it occurs
so it's past there's not time to oneself
is the dawn occurring it's rim.
It has no rim.
They're going into houses killing is the fact.
The fact is delicate in existence, even.
One sees this is wild.
Moscow, the social unit coming as the line of disintegration
as an exact seeing the small person.
There is no effort which had been
voluptuous is where it exists.
If the nature of this is struggling wall of birds flying
that aren't on their own.
If we're not going to do this with people,
there isn't any existence.
I'm relieved by the wall of birds.
One is, in fact, struggling and not with one's there existence.
It is a fact.
This is a light relief.
Floating rib cage on the bare feet in the pouring snow
is inner prior or young when not.
Social being can then be in the two countries where one is.
The struggle has to not redo itself
as it is the same minute shape as itself
as to do itself at the time of struggle
yet not at the time of resting in snow.
Physical strength and leaping, hanging, falling,
which is sometimes on each other, so that hanging they
are floating as swaying by each other in the air,
reflected as if they were walking on the ground,
whereas they're physically beating
their own bodies on a wall.
That is where the social unit that
is there, the social unit only as it's
in one's future and flesh, one's frame and flesh.
People sprawled leaning on wall of subway underground.
In passing it, they can't rest.
Can in subway underground.
But not at all.
They aren't resting.
They have to run as was to the rise.
That is their emotions.
People sprawled, leaning on walls,
resting are finding or have to find a way to do that.
The knack to drop it deeper, hanging
as a ball, the center in utter relaxing.
Dark night is illumined by faint stars,
but the night is so black, it weighs
one stumbling at the base.
People make social power as the social form
as the sole form with the black knight, weighing,
once stumbling in the black, freeing the neck yet physical
can't be in memory.
The jagged body not remembering.
People aren't illumined in one stumbling.
The night is resting.
Weighed without an axis, nowhere illumined.
The black knight doesn't even rest.
I wrote that, actually, after being out on a road
by Bard College in upper state New York
and there was no light anywhere.
And it was amazing how everything was
completely and totally black.
And there was no access to this, no frame of reference.
Cold, freezing, red sky, dusk.
Slice reduction not existing.
Walking only as clear one outside.
Dark roses are in it as freezing reds slice a half of the night
scene, which isn't there yet.
Sky only is there at all.
Bright, dark roses not bud, ever.
In the slice only.
The mind is action, literally.
Not departing from that.
Being events or movement outside, which is inside,
so the mind is collapsing into and as action.
I can't rest at all now.
This is despair.
For Dante, if action of events my mind were the same as
resting brought to that in the way
the physical body rests outside, one is not having a rim.
Understanding rather than just get rid of one's mind and body
in traveling at all.
The physical body inner must continue to move only.
The day only.
No night, which is delicate, is.
That there is only death, extinction.
How can one is that pair be completely
free with no such while living as occurred?
Death being not even the base as one being nothing.
Night.
Night being a base on one.
Black night, filling gas, freezing black flow coming in.
Man destitute says he'll pumps the gas, waiting
at gas pit stop in night.
Bowing his sky flow, only not as it is.
Standing, walking as present.
Huge crows loaded a tree passed by me at night, sleeping.
Yet the half-cracked, black bud night only and thin blue sky.
But as being oneself only aren't existing either.
Single thin wall waves thousands in the freezing sky
and empty fields and loaded on tree by me.
Night is half-cracked, black bud in one as thin blue sky.
The two single events as the present only.
Past has to be only an act that's
only, in present, standing, walking.
Waves of the thousands, huge crows in freezing sky
at dawn from loaded.
They're jostling in tree by me night only.
But only as single arbitrary event in present
now, walking thin blue sky, to be pressure on present one.
The pressure of the choked thick night in one single past event
and thin present sky.
The voluptuous choked thick on night can't breathe.
The hundreds of huge, slightly moving choked only at night
only is fear.
Single crows loading tree by thin wall of one at night.
There, dawn.
As realigning present dawn only.
One could give up as their dawn is thin blue of one.
So that's a selection from "New Time."