Friday, April 08, 2011



So here's this chapbook I made some years ago called Close Gauge Petcock. It's 17 pages of lyric spasm and problematic syntax. I guess. They are 4 dollars. I've decided to become a capitalist! There are 14 copies for sale. Here's a taste:

I rerung
make room being
me fadey orange color
in a bird slacks opus
or do I re
wring ladle equal
symbol surgery
of a I we

one sorts
the honey

crunch baseball
tender mit nebula
thrum the mollusks
out of their bats
ink
when
tupper

I inna
bust frequency
rolling on turtle canoodling
trying weave on fun
dorm hitch refractions
on squid and john
and clark and
several me’s
kissing several

or in this man love
the golden tub’s
not bored open till
heart pimples
avarice less than

stocks tempest
me fig-dried
a scarecrow in a
sour mist grump
emotional magics
are stinging us

me used to be
angry young man
me hiding me head
in the sand the
wizard in hightops
the I always go
neath those alex
testaments
leak carol no
monogram of an
oily air do the dishes
rinse and repeat
no snag glitch of
scanning

I like to forget every job
I ever do
the boasting combing
in essence which is
our ticklish behavior
I last out the morn

and you know
garrulously people
I think to worry
in their nefarious dreams
the lock closing buttons
on pins dropping over
pinzas in our wilt