twenty-five cats and four poems

it is meant there is whimsy, i suppose

all in a woe

the world is a spare thing

no, not the world, place

a place is a sparing

a show of stochasm

that i have lived i can take that walk

or is it the walking the living

but Sebald walked a lot and died at 53

i could be wrong

see?

then the page went blank

mirror

i am wrong

see?

the avoids

in a surrounding

patella nostril

could be a thing

yes, a sing

then what—walk on?

 

 

a brown paper bag

 

mess of crease in caress incontumely as get out

troppic of unknowns untap a nest at the behind

i know this one guy he sat with his back to the wall the one i mean

whaddaya know

they don’t build statues for that

they add a t in there for when you need to not be listened to

 

 

a barnyard

 

bell jure by the sighed of it

bray, intralocutor, whorn are yow

the rafture on the downcomb, the braille of strawn

miser the mazery the cudged curtain of lid

spray you esnough, espair, glutting scarrifics

gries in the mourntains, pining moths

the speak’s got its flutter, its fluster

the din in feather, the rundry hobble

there’s the scalpely end in scapula

the sweated cleaver’s whisper, doom beaconess

 

a tremor

 

shaky hands with the universe the uni-re-verse cuz that’s what             / bow da

these iterations por or pre tendril am i the octopus or the squeezed     / zzle fletch

who’s vamping whom when or whence i can’t just stand hence         / y flingt of a

viber artia question mark no name or such game or ungainly           / shimmy ring beau

circum stanch of it meddling modercine navailer nonvalentor       / taneous arcumflix

desinvalide dühsuetudinal inchfilade don’t you                             / ture raspirate to the

smæs of rhynchteous reprobity, proboscibilitous velocitocity     / tungch i’m its about

these reaxonoiterant strut-utters of lectric sping i surrought     / as holey as the letting sky

the sgrountencies in the ditches of wrigglers in their               / if i was a prayer this’d be me

viscous i if i could only if i could it’s down not up               / and it o itty mio minus whats’ if

i’d shut this not that nor nothers my brothers i’d                 / curtainty dropwoed manma mix

mergenely cisternate the wobbly                                       / ery slaneted in sligheth moval amoval

workity                                                                            / devowal of caus’tion wing sheen at un

jerks                                                                               / morse cuz whatlessly soars in plunsh of

/ scarce pirouetture ouette ouette i crawled

/ each colloudion at the poinct of ampate oak

/ renown and ounced upperly now there’s the

/ hummage the worsh and lode the sucutaneous

/ be and see rapturant renatury of lungst

/ and longily bearance cuz where it land is very

/ where in a thisery of a moment’s imprisment

 

a ray of sunlight

*

Painting:

Avatar

Steve Timm

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  • The last piece is actually two pieces meant to share a page and separated by a diagonal line (hence the slashes); “a ray of sunlight” is the title of the one to the right of the slashes; the confusion is all mine (as anyone might guess 🙂 )

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