Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Russia

I Want to Court Russia

I want to court Russia—Bone around. Bone around.
More and more books. Here is the dream in the
Teachers; they can yell while flopped on the ground.
Look up, look up, look up. There is a statue with some
Kind of light poking through. The animals of your better
Nature are plaid. Blue. And green.

Here we are in the woods, again. Here we are.You are your mother
and that is good enough.She reminds you to be careful and
sometimes she whispers to us. I got into 12 fights. Perhaps I
Was not fighting at all. I was just thinking that I hit her in the
Mouth because she deserved it. But she wasn’t there. I
Imagine hitting . Today is so lonely with no one to hit.

I imagine him going down and down…what will he say.
Where will he look. It’s dark next door and there is love making.
Carve a wee angel in the tree and we shall live forever! It only touches
My teeth, so it’s still good. Sit up straight and breathing becomes much
Easier. The story is all over. Naturally, you are aggressive.

Once there was a man who enjoyed rockery and he built a
City out of such. Sad, story times. Watch her go, watch her go!
God, it is beautiful! Whisper. Was that okay? Whisper. Trumpets.
This poem is one-hundred-eighty-five pages long. Please don’t end.
I love to look at it—the art times. I got away with it. Sassy limbo.

I watched from afar and knew what you were doing, so I set
the bar on fire. I had a dream that we got married and spent
the rest of our lives in the same room, or that that was all we
could remember from our life together. We stared at a painting.
Mr. Starrer, Mr. Starrer! Tell us the one about Rudy in LA. Oh, it
Ends badly, doesn’t it…solo. Yes it does. We’re slow to go back to.

The places race me. Remember she is old and is outside. Take
Care of the small drawings. Hand massage instruction is very
Relaxing. How I hate the joy and remember hate in hating it.
You must enjoy yourself, and there is no need to look up every
Few moments. Everyone sounds like they’re saying my name

1 comment:

Mo said...

sooooo gooood

these poems are soooo fucking good.