I ride the bus, you ride the bus, she rides  .) chemical imbalance wistful
vistas its way home to me  

To promise leaflets in the snow.
The gentle paramour of are we done to us entirely.
These reaches kiss the half of it. 
I really like to ride the bus.
Followed by pure milken coffee topped off with
Cranberry muffin.
Weight gain. 
Luxury enough to buy my threat coat from the look of all we reign.
Imagine genuine ignition.  Pasty looking threads I-wonder-why.

It seems so restful to be riding where I'm nested here in space where yammers
Spain their loosely hinged vocabulary (brokenness I know by heart).

For purposes of traffic, I indulge in water sports this once.
Abide with me.
Free agentry, affordable suitcase.
In a century of allspice.  
Dickering with blades to play from lawns we thought respectable.





Premising

Overbearing noon, 
A man toys with a saxophone,
Becomes the saxophone.
Day could be pretty without 

Fault line of an 
Embedded space bar.  Girl cadets
Rinse lactose far from
Truth traps (why was I not told

What I was finally not told?)
This afternoon the rafters ring
And we are tangelos,
And we are all cling peach

Economies.  Things bountifully
Decide among themselves to change
The premonitions, dodge probabilities
Sliced, various, now glowing in the light.





One Morning 

The police are here
In Big Sky Bread
I'm wearing green
And the humidity
Is down, staccato
Of the register
Accompanies "It's Now
Or Never" on Muzak,
Yesterday, the 16th
Of March, a Monday,
This place was empty,
And I didn't have
My typescript copy
Of Peter G's "Around
The Corner" and
I didn't have a shamrock
Fastened to my bluegreen
Catholic-school-appearing
Blazer, there wasn't this
Much sun, I hadn't mailed
Tim's birthday card 
To Sydney, Natalie
Did not have pinkeye 
Yet.

The fish in the aquarium
Just west of the police and north
Of me are yellow,
But the ambiance is green
This kind of womb
And the tonality of coffee
Blinks open my still lazy mouth,
Around vocabulary Peter finds
Recalling the perfection of apparent 
Imperfection distant 
From midlight 
As I know it, other people's fears
Draw down these mighty salaries,
The market tumbles upward,
I am fated
Not to be a spectator
Without attracting one
Office past another
I've not run for
Consciously.

This early part
Of daylight melds
The crossed-swords
Attitude of map spots
We could sponge away,
But systems put their arms
Around their relatives,
And what seems most
Dramatic and important are
Relationships among the parts,
More than the parts themselves,
Small slivers of portfolios
Weighted with 
Security and psyche,
My young twin
Who plays an instrument
Instead of filling
Notebooks with a text
Proves an unquestioned
Latitude will echo
Tree rings, party parasols,
And everything we
Threw away when 
Gutting the psychology
Of our childhood
Basement you could call
Foundational
Or an embellishment
Of lust and fishes
Multiplying 
In our cortexes
Eternal 
Breakfast of champions.








Caritas

lukewarm
it is not
(nor passion)
put your head
here where my heart
a hand 
last