If one more guy tells me they like that song, I’m going to Crown Him (in not a nice way).
Hot nights in the summer bedroom astrological Grand Central Station. Fox Point Kitchen Dance. Mingus was a Big Band trying to affect my body with some immediate gravity. Sex do to me one’s catalogue and while you’re at it Rimbaud. The cats had better but fewer houses. Let all mortal flesh keep silent over that one. The seraphim with ceaseless eye knew their metempsychosis was incomplete.
So formally, she was nowhere yet. But the dream takes its own form, organically arranged like a bento box, that is, organic within the waking grid.
Whitman Poem “Come…”
See the many blossoms of the field:
Each blade shines with an infinity of flowers,
each blowing its life away—
Pollen carried in the wind, Sing!
To the wind, Clover, wild rose, sturdy Mullen,
purple Larch and Dog violet, twiny Jute,
tiny Pipsissiwa all connected underground,
Pokeweed’s vivid juice on my skin:
To all the plants, flowering weeds and grasses:
Cinquefoil, Wild Columbine, Rue, Bergamot:
All Gorgeous Companions,
Let’s lay our warm bodies down on the warmer earth.
Let me lay my head on your chest and feel your breath …
All around us the grasses are blooming as we are,
entering and mixing, one into another!
ESTIVATION
The way flower petals lie in the bud
or
to pass the summer in a state of torpor—compare HIBERNATION
this vegetal pregnancy
Faces and forms, I would write
you down
In a style of leaves growing.
(Louis Zukofsky)
Unseen buds, infinite, hidden well,
Under the snow and ice, under the darkness, in every square or
cubic inch,
Like babes in wombs, latent, folded, compact, sleeping
(Walt Whitman)
I want certain
words
more than a thousand flowers
(Cibo Matto)
Convolute
all our hypertridimensional lives
Involute
Curling heart
You’re all wrought up
But any to open
at ready given moment
A byzantine course description
A wild menu moves the feast to violet
blue
milky
We must curl in reverse
We must curl in cruelty
We must eat
(Lyn Hejinian)
O my little Contradiction what terms
like Cover and Sleeper
can’t rejoin broad daylight over
a former part of life
now seen as mystery data via the
departmental arts
I mean to vie for
Being a Sleeper
The idea cringes to be called that.
What if paper were longer?
Wincing, he winges, so winged.
An involute trip through
in search of your own part
Forms of unfinished estivation
Flip in as in Neuromancer
the floral clock
sidereal
Available light
or light while there is light
Why privilege any one
bead of the necklace
or borrow a boring music?
50 curls
then
The sidewalks of Winesburg, Ohio
roll up in a spiral
having been wound so closely around their axis
His Insulators are of the varigated lingerie variety
We bake screw muffins in the sun
Everything seems real decadent as the decade rolls up
In botany flowers continue to bloom
In the country, same thing
In geometry a curve is traced by the end of a taut string
when it is wound upon or unwound from a fixed curve
on the same plane with it
like the bright green bean vines wildly crawling up
An involving or being involved (entanglement or complication)
As when he said I had
“Byzantine ideas of human sexual relationships.”
I had to look it up when he left the room.
O you involute poets, yelping and mating
with your own kind on the rocky crags:
Don’t do the Poetry Slam!
Turning in on one’s self.
Think I’ll turn in now.
Turn into what?
Obvolute
Two lips link
in overlapping margins
Quincunx
Sucking on Mary’s Spoon
I was
Cat mound rests her place
What will happen next
a pregnant curl of a bloom
not new but
referencing other flowers
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