In the Hole They Dug in the Earth

 Actually, you’re thinking that a glass of ex-rays drifts in jade.

Mycelium strings hold ex-planet Islands together, greys,

wire warped. Neither storm, nor casting sheds

across the light, these felt arms igniting—no poisons.

Losers in nylon, handling the shirt sleeve of the shore.

Pour in dynamite, to the pool, from the top of the slide

—Out from a box marked ‘nonsense,’

lurking in the shadow of the sky.

Giant falling squid loosen caterpillars into ozone layers.

[tab65]Small filigree of diamonds—[/tab65]

Leprosy pulled blankets on the planet. Loose links,

cherry orchard blossom painted to a mini-boat,

floating in the breeze. chance, to speak another language,

to pull back mathematics in your hair, the kittens of your eyes

—and—I pour in the tree fort we’ve built for you—

Do they know the operations of a machine fort? All of its

pulleys, all its levers? (Exploded chests—

birds of diamond wings inside the air;

motion radio in all directions.)

A rosemary chest crumbles open in the sand.

The smoke clears, piles of tarantula jewels climbing out,

calm glow of lanterns on the harbour.

Earthquake house for a storm; a shifting wall, Victorian flowers—

You’re thinking about an ex-rayed past, light on the steeple

curving over the black, shattered rose (frozen for three days)

A sheeted martyr smoothed over with wooden fingers—

stem absorbing water from a near cloth.

[tab65]Wallpaper haunting—[/tab65]

With a long wooden finger, jamb 91 moves, corrodes,

thins porch fluids we’ve gotten into.

Empty light, peekaboo threads along an iris from the beach.

Eyes, woven to vertical later, touching and for the servings of

weave at fork into the Birch case

glare there, at tin shacks in the dump,

tin hallows conveyed with tires like

aluminum pills, drained to a motor robot over there.

Day and circus rusting with roofs at the edge of truck lake.

Tinfoil lenses in iron hair, strapped under the button, trail

loops, the [road] up, the [shanty road].

Robots made of trucks, scratching hotels. Dames layered

door handles, swerving lights.

Forest crews of the roaming antler ship, caked in mud

before neon mustache lights, neon in mid arch to door way

welcoming crews in.

Whispering you ice thread? Overarching windows,

field of laughter, robots built of garbage dump fun. Juices

carved out from corn and sitting in the centre of the planet Venus.

I’ve peeled the pink layer back now.

Ingesting juice of iron rays in hair, teams are lining the secret.

With hidden hat under the latex finger,

Oh, pile the circuit boards on.

[tab60]Quote un-quote (Self) thought[/tab60]

Dinosaur underwear kissed the speech—

French yarn tacked under the tarp matrix

in overlapping-blanket dogs, sitting in fish net

stockings, hoarded parts of the robot-ford-shark

(one hundred engines left.)

The fact is we, “drip juice” sheets under the blow dryer

for later radio carbon dating with a  [Sl.ice ra.ke.]

Miscellaneous rugs service humans to the shed. People

refused robot to drink a rose and crimson tail from the lions jaws.

A pile of weaves, the subways convoluted.

Carousels, spinning a moment of bells.

Spinning children down in the dump—

“Cut out front and place back stitch along the marks.”

After the ward a ship spills children in the design of the sweater painter

a modern tapestry erupts—toy kids, paper rafts, a flea circus!

Perusing the remains of the almanacs, looking for the right refrain,

the right caesura—the right haiku.

So real Ilsa Bee, [whisper] either way wander. You’re always singing

And down through trembles, the button dawn:

Blue Bell, Fuchsia, Lilies, Camellia’s, Rose, Nasturtiums …

Back unzipped hat sets up all equipment.

So many threads grow thin light, all wrapped in stories.

Vines surround a burning cable—lining a readymade past.

Architecture influenced ears, a tall placement.

Either way, children are blue with water, missing

Freight trains, that the machine blacks out and encroaches, tick tock.

Luckily the drawings remind them of arguments,

[Whisper] either way the platter of chicken

[tab60]feathers drip out on pavements,[/tab60]

Underneath the wishing well, the fangs,

The rim of his glasses forget the words, sound

Machines     [cuckoo] either way, drifting side long.

—The carpool lane, all just sleeping threads—

The vineyard: tooth 40 lights: tooth and more tooth

Light. Wooden utterance little light,

I’ve a triangle legend leaf on,

So, the wood floor is also the ceiling, the cell remember,

in ice, [beep] either way when I’m on the tail of the fish,

I end up riding a little cavern, and come out a week later,

From a shelter, from a smaller cave in the sea-foam green

Or an orange is mouth where I shout rock under

“—Oh, now is then!”

The shape originating weary mouthed in a repeater, DNA

Wound up in textile: tiled in iris team.s.brea.k in the mid.dle

Mice line the neck hair on aluminum spinal cord

Drifting over a sailboat, new words on an orange tongue.

My shoulders [sock microphone,]

[tab60]that’s neither cloud nor mother—[/tab60]

Eyes meet—theme in theme—exit neon-eyes

Emergency.

The shade of tire iron

I am rolling down the mountain, miserable drool of felt,

behind an alligator.

Beneath the shirt is a belt for anguish

an armchair spinning casual lines, like steel, radiation broadcast,

I will sit lonely with cream cake outside my briefcase,

a handle of deer horn nobody notices. [The bank opens in electric lapses]

an overwhelming explosion the shattering lids,

old windows collapsing.

A new world smears past my briefcase, tucks its

ears inside unicorn, cellophane, markers.

Snow-steak masks, and a wing.

Ears, eyeballs, cellophane markers.

Pools, (bunny swimming) Haircuts/ laundry/ wars

music in a shot gun.

[tab60]An archaic science of arm chairs,[/tab60]

beautiful venom. Brain beauty next to true love

happiness is also welcome at the drive-in theatre,

a pen of shame, stubborn shoulder lights

yet ringing miracles out from the fur, in wind signatures.

Marching backyard thick, through Christmas glowing insect light,

a grandmother's house of nail-polish, gowns,

Dee.r cross.ing spac.e, a long, winding hall

the purple doors, the brass line, the plates,

all engraving Team #1 fur, an adventure fur. Now blanket bells

in windows, a wind-up dance through brass and silver,

steel and iron. Oaks and Oh, the shattered velvet dance

a sample two, window splicing pictures.

Infinite tears, down on absolutes, with

Wallpaper leashes, an old, red man. You will save him.

An honour it shapes and whales in roaming sparks

the February flower night orchids in jungles' tea, I see heat,

The heat in cellophane Diction.

You are cosmic sleep, as Indian lights are stroked by army silhouettes

my record turns for butterflies and rats,

and machines who eat the turnips

that ancient one, fishing along the kill

our august strawberry of dawn wandering red, so bright,

this early sound. Time.s div.it.s [beep]

[tab50]The Pyrotechnic qualm. The Pyrex quail.[/tab50]

The puzzle queen (Anne’s lace, n.) the wild carrot.

The tungsten umbilical cord, tungsten umpire,

umbrella valve. The sine-dactyl ,tabula floors, symbol

cabaret, wrinkle yacht, witch-elm zigzag, yokel zenith,

yogurt zebra. I weld wheat. I welsh wharf.

I weasel stream. We water sled wax. We resin response.

Our mental meringue, and now for an

in-weave Seven [tab65][cuckoo][/tab65]

Five bellies haunt the star-strings peek a boo

The pale glimpse of a tide

A core shed and equipment rooster

One more influx, the cloth strip window frame.

Lace rigs are stretching a chair in place

before a fire Ice candy cane is around the door knob

vision. Our tape crossed walls, sun-dried

and made facts.

Swedish lines my hand, chiseled fort.

Many braid looping. Positives needle neon

knots of element.

In England the place of knots resembles

the hair of pigmented lace, talismans,

an eleventh house of rings, a ginger, sickle grass.

The armchair moves—A little away—

A beat of bread to thickness alloy breast.

An urban ostrich climbing graffiti dried

Actually, you’re thinking

[tab50]a mouth is full of gold dormitory chairs[/tab50]

Chicken sleep, and silhouette—