I’ve been living in the town
it’s all a dream
taking out the
garbage
pieced together
from flashes
threadbare in
places
sunlight in
others
the future was
supposed
to be here
me I sleep in
winning
the day
on high in blue tomorrows
having the
numbers they naturally feel
the way a pale
stammering sucks life
boards up the
old town and moves away
not to miss a
single hole in some other
breaks out the
pure language thing
face stat
soundly the happen glance
perfect incense
blondes a nod to
counting in the
alternate light plane
branding is a
title fucking a good name
turning on
Cowboy X right in the mini-mall
trash the
furious the stand-alone the darkness
reign in the
slack of night with care and know
abstract endings
are knocking at your door
but you have to
see it first from the beginning
grip firmly and
don’t get too down on yourself
invitations
decompose over poetry time
sand leaves
death tears falling and rain-like
smiling on a
comfortable couch and in love
yourself being
all the grace humanly possible
meditating
toward some retro new age results
sky grey half
light calling across cool December
voices down the
street the physical reminder
the reverse of
draining and full of good space
residential and psychedelic real estate
just walk in on
the poem like nothing
a little texture
up ahead beyond whatever
a light to the
right of excellent taste
trust elegance
while moving out
and time to scan
over texty vowels
plow dashes
through the sound cue
how are we
wearing them this year?
suddenly
blanking even the walk part
rainy pools upon
a smart blanket touch
cutting in on
the tweaked height of
mansion pure
sonic handshake tension
relentlessly
passing by in a car
the train
arrives as remarkably solid
a straight line
through a country night
where we live
for now but not anymore
it is really
over and continues to last
a long time take
a long time a life time
something moving
the very tree itself is
walking then
crouching back to the ground
looks nervously
around then walks some more
“hey man, I
think that tree is following us”
and then it’s
you cast as the arborist’s daughter
in Bright
Lights, Dark Currents: A Bookideo
never flowers
worried from then on out
you’re OK the
burning evening of raw materials
to touch off
what the signs can bear they said
it’s a hell of a
thing born at the perfect time
halo depth rings
blowing in the pretty wind
homefree settled
in a cloud easily with heart
the strange body
of work kicks back to relax
one and only blur
feels like a
minor life
on the plains
tonight
almost too
honest and cowboy epic
a steno book
physically rendered light
to say
personally I lead you away starry
would commit a
working sin all day
so triangled
that golden heaven opens
and blasts away
razing a dawn storm
color-thing
outranking the total previous
AEIOU sometimes
credited to good focus
feels like I’m ready to float thru your
room
being too much
very at the
party
as possible
might well tell
darkly
the darkness or
put through
a message of
hope
a poorly
attended
spirit-world
tractor-crazed
hillbillies
are your friends
the birdmen
the birdmen are
very weird
with three hole
punchers
for your soul
daytime will be
great soon
some long walk
will attach
itself to memory
an old hound dog
stops by
he really gets
it
the whole scene
You Will Be Happy Here
these outgrown
cities ended loathing
given stay in
the sudden change future
where
clairvoyance wins the workforce
this shift is
over without explosion
scenery of the
predetermined outcome
was news that
came soon stays true
loving hands in
the eleventh hour
never realized
together never realized
hit to death in
the future head
and everyone
lives forever
absorbing their
worthless sensations
gets better with
the end of time
in the not too
shabby future
we will have
waited long enough
an inexplicably
well worn road
coincidence
killed in the process
and raised
surroundings to live
beyond the
simple dead things
shaken from the
romantic dust
faced with
melting in the sun
a million to one
pink stripe
holed up in a
rhetorical shack before
bursting forth
with the power of burst
to see or to sea
or to the letter C
to be followed
by an average confusion
in which a weird
bell rings the world
all day up and
down the stairs and we like it
we love it
there’s a reason here and air
the way a
perfect circle might appear
any moment every
thing practically exploding
and it finally
seems worth this slowly dying
very specific
parade past each stray summer
color theory
ashes blah blah blood vow
in the words of
I remember my mind
there’s a system
finding the angel face
not to exist
celebrating all good things
what will 4 dollars get us?
one's own
mediocre
outer-circle
literalizing
windows and
doors
for winter
a special
brand
of
semi-literacy
swamp
likelihoods
dragged
somewhere
paranoid
or
the other hand
touches
context
some scenic
notion
exchanged or
posed
rapidly
cocentric
everybodies
scaling
measure
before static
objects
moved for good
Excellent Source of Pyramids
what did you
want to be
studied a dark
wall
hope delved
reason
I can see you
each day or dreaming what
will some people
crack in the patterned distance
you were not
thought itself, but only a step away
a summer night
with attention to lily pads
when you saw the
trees were real the lights
true to life
with signs of sparse planning the
weather weighs a
ton I guess . . . the changes . . .
I worry
the siren anthem
from one cold
room to the world
then you rose
sharply you were out there
I remember the
climb over breakfast
as staggered home
the hovering sense lately
you clear the
way
are walking in
the park
the colors you
don’t want in the corners
you paint
the seasons were
surrounded
the German
opened a window and looked
in— the drums
getting much louder
stolen mail
blowing around the room and solo
the break-dance
broke laughing right in the face
dear dear
neighbors
fat moustache
man and
wavy through the
gas photographed front lawn
from which each
day gets an excuse to begin limping again
a dropper you
poured and bright dust
accumulated foil
creases now steer
where a path
goes were
made to wear
loose or over furniture
running in the
periphery to seem born very suddenly into
concern for dates skipping sound from
inside
there was still
such a thing as extremely clear sight
he needed to
stretch his legs and brought her along to talk making time
the person. out
of this unwinded
a tape to music—
quilt covered window
maybe to last a
long while— a song will
invent a “brains
in the night sky” style
and now they
never stopped above the hardware store
the devil. a
method
of proving dream
come true
in the soft
ground
crowd goes wild
a long night by
which they could not come home
train tracks holding onto a place ran the thought through
Jim Behrle is my boss
no really it’s
true I know
with wonder and
amazement
it’s likely
thanks to someone or thing
that I only
exist in my own mind
and is therefore
all very possible
probable even
cocaine pants: the accuser
feel free to
speak softly in
your cowboy
vernacular
after all you
are a friend:
you are
Beastmaster
welcome to my
Castle Grayskull
my Fenway Park
hello cigarettes
what I think of
as being thoughtful
crawling through
the barbed wire fence
to cross a field
down to the lake past cows
who crowd around
us and we run from
we’re both from
the country but not
that country and
that’s a long time ago
but somehow to
the point right now
very much in
mind deus ex memoria
some good wine
in a shack suddenly there
right where we
need to be in out of the rain
of the familiar
feeling this is just like a movie
arrived with us
and stayed about two weeks
it’s what I
think about leaving on a train
first never
remember love you forever
passing through
some strange places
one measure
against constant trackside
that I link
smoke rings with you
and have been
getting a lot of dreams
what I see into
with natural swimming
paling the
direction of the wind plan
illegible bankers
no wonder or water
to save from here
to God's will
we need now
reflects warm cheer
fever and a half day
take modern for
commission
certainly public nature
seriously vast lens
obvious platform
verticality
circle here
as an artist
maybe look at the rest
of loose space
stand up color material
other thematic people
survive in big trouble
deep plastic hold
nape of the arc
to simple pursuit
a worn sequence replaced
calm volume fears
inside the belly
all this self talk
the answers altered
still good still collected
lotus lilies and ray gun
with finance chairman
interesting actually
populating the property
cut into piles
one of the giants
continues in daylight
potential gore interior
remorse room power
stained in the head
good night’s utter loss
lucid is as
aghast to you
technique stretch over
integral seams match
upstaged to life
hectic in the sprawl
some entranced incomes
rise
darkly first
left of the planet
sinking down
golfing the night
plain as a
picture drunk sea waving
fold into
pockets for directions
to school
recurring dream for good
enough that the
trailer park rocks
home in on
blinking street flowers
over cloud in a
cool van sort of way
off to work
honey into the poem
branching sleep
out having a care
