TJ Desc


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Wednesday, April 30, 2003

If I were a smart man
what u say about getting me back
won't take any substitute
alternate way.

How am I on your mind?

Windows catch fire
over the bay        in a fit

What you do because.

Tuesday, April 29, 2003

saving face with occasional
rain. Or tell how
wishing rises like color
in the curving backdrop
Days softly ambient
like a smile

Monday, April 28, 2003

sleepyhead backwash
at the dream corral

carve up or
over sent

well met well meant
we're rushing that he wants
moves almost told me the thing
turned half backwards it made
him realize that I just got all
emptied and pretty incredible

seven months after meeting
I slept most of the time
which moves half-
backward, turning

clever girl
Empty your mind
and salute the sun -
day traffic

Sunday, April 27, 2003

and even the dolls have blogs
"We're rushing toward
victory which is imminent."
"We're" . . . "We're"
"rushing" . . . "rushing"
and the rest at a fever pitch
crying out hoarsely, penniless.

toes pointing inward
ballerinas and runners
"Everyone on their feet!"
empty your wallets and face
the stage repeat after me

Saturday, April 26, 2003

turning tail, then
back for more.
Wait here: the yellow
line scuffed by sneakers.
Bow inland

this reach as wares

topple skyward

Friday, April 25, 2003

Heave to and
drift astern.

Direct fire at the
further shore

or walk, shedding
pennies, eyes
Humour overturns itself

Feet hurry it
I took thin paper
to the director.

I walked towards the directorate
on my feet. I was positive

you were more than I could bear.
says the paper thin
feet is what we hurry it
It is positively more than I can bear

bearing to see it

yet show me more:

and the streets are moving
through an iron rain
Hurry Hurry says McFlurry
The bird swoops through
some city reeking
of lavender
in the dream
Woof woof or on
Yikes. There's
a positive in this dream.

Thursday, April 24, 2003

A Calvinist coffee and some
pavlova too
Then I'm drinking a Calvinist coffee
at 2 a.m., hardly watching
what's happening beyond the plate-glass rim.
Bees sting once, then die. Can't you
tell when I'm kidding and when I'm
falling past the open hatch?
and nobody knows it but me
Sifting through sleep
memory pans

the auditorium
where everyone's naked and the window
falls outside

(this is surrealism)

Wednesday, April 23, 2003

A field of blue and yellow flags,
two empty chairs. Dear customer,
your perspective is value, chromed
to a heavy cream.
deep in the nozzles
it seems like
a nap is delirious
always with the fiscal flies
I lose alphabetic weight
& then I nuzzle 'im
he feels like Italy:
Prada, Gucci

Yes, what kind of place
this: where a pig is dead
pig killed for effect, with human looks
of disappointment? Not one letter.
That's in fact the alphabet, brrrrrrrr,
I'm flushed with, when entering the conference room
or climbing up a tally of the fiscal year.

Deep fiscal shame

deeply colored fiscal-face

under a flannel blanket

with spindly hands

hands, those are nozzles for typing

Tuesday, April 22, 2003

It wants to turn me inside
out. Grrr. But what kind of
place is this, putting
children under the X-ray?

tickety tock says the clock
I wake to find a hopeless growling beast
It wants to tame me
And where do you turn, staring
from fast trains?

Trees rankled in some

bad verse of railway crossings.
The furniture of my mind
shifts. Improved mental
feng shui!


Strut, peacock!
Welcome to the fully furnished mind!

I saw the best minds of my generation
at the cinema.Afterwards, there was ice cream.
Walk shakily to the fountain,
travel Europe, see
through one thousand eyes.
I saw the best pose
in the middle of two palm trees
after which something yellow
went through the sun
you're not exactly a J
maybe part of a Z
but I love you and that
footprint on your shirt

What accordion isn't?
And I saw the best rinds
falling to earth with a thump. Cramped
styles, human beans.
If it isn't worth having it
We are finally, along with the houseboys
of the palm tree forest, lost. I saw the best things
I mean the best secrets
fall out of fashion
with the head of the houseboys.
I was with them
born of the same year
and yet so terrible
on the phone.
Cutting things out.
Out of paper.
Looking, liking and all those palm trees!
Between freeway exits the canyon weaves
textilian verses we sing, from the back seat.

Monday, April 21, 2003

Hey, look over there--it's the houseboy planting
stories in the elephant grove.
Loose lips sink ships. Don't count
on my vote, you hunk of quietude.
O, I am a fool. I've got my lips exposed to the air
and all so I can explain
the plots of Crowded House video.
Mask me! I am a mystery!
I am wearing a black thing across my face. No, silly,
it doesn't mean I have
a disease.
Well no, it isn't. Carving empires in air
Is only the first-time loser, as all stand
Hungry before the wobbly window, masked
And checking for signs of fever.
The double agent exposes lips
And noses to the current.
Last night I reread all of your text messages.
Not the whole night. First I got high.
Indian food is comfort food.
3 waiters stare out the window.
All seem amazed.
One says "4 seasons in 1 day!"
Another says "It's not like that in
China, is it?"

But I was hardly hungry
at the time. Couldn't breathing
have been buffered, rising
and falling like fame?
O Burrito - you are tragically misplaced. Did you come,
did you come from the STARS?

I was eating and I saw my friend in a messed-up
blue light. Was it the food
or what was it
making a person SHINE SO?
I thought about the outerspace dessert. We bandied
the glowing thing about.

What the first words are of
mystery, falling-down
salt or sweet