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In Progress


In This World We Do Mutt
(for Joseph Ceravolo)
my doll is firm aboriginal blubber
from this bottle we did drink
pull up the blanket
affection rides home
mother is windy
built on 
the body is coming
these knees are a spongy breeze
in Seattle we did chow on clams
look at this saint’s hat
for whom the bell gloats
birds float
it is white foam
when will my gluckenspiel
run dry
like a toothpick
among the shaken
my son leaps the carribou
I have no carribou
this is a rehearsal for Zen music
it worked very well
now it is past use
my girlchild 
there is no snake
tell us where to eat
the wind tattles
all done?
smells like fish
o yeah
rice spring
rice spring

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