watery fog

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Johnny the horse racer
walked through the snow
to the chicken stable
-like building also known as
a chicken coup

a small child sat there
on the shelf out front of
the front door to
the building

Johnny and the child spoke
then Johnny went in
the chickens weren’t even there
the child had known it all along

Johnny walked through the snow
he had no idea of where he should know
in that late-January heavy watery-fog
filling his eyes and his life




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gleasening from the air

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turkeys gleasening from the sky
withering features bombing homebound
wasting bait are the savy
  throwing it out their windows
    onto the ground
charming is alarming
keep secrets, sleak wrap
raining

raINIng
too too too too too
much like stories
  written
    more than twice, even

the outcome: bam bam bam bam
  turkeys hittin the ground with
    bait
    in beak
sausages and pork rinds fried
  in
splam, heat hot




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the needle ought not peg left

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the last time that the greenery took its water

the last time that the greenery smoked its flavor fully

the last time that the smoke rolled upwards from the water mark

the last time that hoves of people spoke to the father

the last time that idle birds knew their fate

but this pessimism is full of incorrections

and this pessimism is full of misunderstanding

that this morning the air cant hold your breath

that this week cant hold your needs

that this is clamor for failure to participate in the harvest




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guitar track – in the desert at the high noon – 1min clip

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10_10_14




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understanding dirty hair

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there aren’t frequent bathroom trips
for silvanDevor-forded brooks by

the way of the hill going down, slight
slope, slow horse trot, catarina sweet

blouse, panties ( don’t say underwear ), shaded trees

but an hour a minute a lady with
dirty hair says ‘stop I must stop I must’
with ogard peeps and not candid to say ‘jest,
I may fly, jest I may’




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a first-hand account of the pulitzer (adult content)

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The beatniks were popular in the 1950’s; I met them all; they were boring; most of them did not know their alphabet; I had to teach them their ABC’s: ‘a’ goddamnit, ‘b’ you stupid motherfucker, ‘c’ you yagged boozer, …; They didn’t learn!

most of them were over-rated; two of them could not even go up one flight of stairs without getting winded; can you imagine that? how can you write prose if you can’t get to the top of a flight of steps without losing your breath; it’s just stupid; it’s just ridiculous; it’s just hard to believe; it’s just rough and rocky traveling!

I hate the beatniks; I murdered them; I killed them; I told them “wswerfweR”; two of them did not have automobiles but instead some prose!




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tables

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furthermore
      the frantic people live on rice
          walking fast
      eatin ducks
killin hoards of loaves
of tadpoles and clothes
on lines of dryers in heat
in waves, obedient, dosed
    closed

but
    the farmer raises pigs
        drinks beer
    plows
has a table
and guests




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