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from the notebook

14 October 2010

all the mornings of the world
I'm saved
socks are holy
bee stings are not

my tongue has drunk
the lust of yr race

supreme lucidity: when the lights
die down

a camel ravishes
a goat

and in the encyclopedia of
yr brown eyes

I find

a no-moss mind
this is my Italian translation:

Easter is married
to Hades


I do love
your cheeks

I sit in the Piazza Unita
open to the sea
the fountains of four continents
an Italian rock
grinds out tunes
to the wind

I'm not frightened
I'm not frightened
of your lovebones
sweet hun luv etc.

bling bling
my margins
have shifted

don't get ______

this is the occult
caves of your music
I slept late &
late again
with an army
of insecurities


yr notorious allure cannot be threatened
by the queen of the onion shrubs
all dogs dance
such intimacies
such imtimacies
my friends
of the trade winds


in the bliss
of a new dawn
we are yoked

and a number
we are doing a new

tapping out lines

900 exhibits
of the mind

in heaven
there is television


I'm forever blowing
bubbles bubbles
senora senora
I'm hung up on
yr love
and love I'm there
in a thin white
what if getting old means
no one ever finds you
I'm always in the tunnel
not older
not younger
I'm tired of this
poem but want
to give you
senorita senorita


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