no new poems kind no thank you or Tennyson look old poets in the eye would smell of ornament maybe by Maxfield Parrish us, anything put the pencil in a poem about pies cooling there Tennyson’s father some Mary Oliver next to me ear mites and fleas in leaf-shadow
to the little side entrance a roar of laughter better to consent names omitted the sun has caught his nose yes there is a difference might accrue another gloomy relation cards this year
held a kernel get ourselves my mother everything Pine-Sol, feel better the best of the worst hurrying a bus ride of connection when I got close as it was dismissive a small glue gun skin color African Methodist are a provocation it’s fuel began locking the door fireflies blinking new(…)
– continued – A Way in the World by V.S. Naipaul Burmese Days by George Orwell Death in Venice by Thomas Mann At the Edge of the World by Jean-Vincent Blanchard Homage to Catalonia by George Orwell Down and Out in Paris and London by George Orwell The Ordeal of Gilbert Finfold by Evelyn Waugh(…)
Mormons in search of gold horses, blankets and beads last captivity tales or, because half-finished fact from fiction by quicksand card on a tree one hundred mules all or probably all
eight names danced in their heads three onions one must have one between the two be unnatural her aprons wept over her plate a yellow animal and faun eat chalk bitter, distraction ‘where you go I go’ ‘at last at last’ crafty and cruel lying under an orange tree four beehives or(…)
for some foreign port cooler and cooler his muffin carefully the wind early as many rivers
kept up his duties garlanded eyelets men of his kind those men eight-hundred pilgrims trusting in the power of their unbelief he believed himself in a voice that quavered
