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