plasticized

 

Bowery

   needles &

1954 raygun

plumes –

   hope in

fresh air...

circles within

   or without,

the Light rules

   all –

 

cruised Manteca

    once, th'

 infinitesimal

    gratitudes shook

lazy like a

   clay-born nuisance, th'

spectacle of

sounding re-used –

 

blackclassic

eye strains,

   & I'm the

last romantic

     who gives a

fuck about

romance –

         then again,

maybe I don't

care

   at all, hey?

 

 

variations on a 3-line theme

 

in Poulsbo, WA

I hope the

Vikings rise up

from their ashy

myths & serve

me some

whiskey

...

I haven't had

wine in

so long

...

All the rice

in Georgia won't

relieve this rash

...

essence of poesy:

nonDenominated

threshold of

secure illusionary

capitalist blue-notes –

blend with

trashy gray of

swamprot

sunup

diseases

As the garbage piles

         up.

 

 

farewell ode

 

         the dark

walnut tree,

         leaning into

the sunrise,

         answers my

unasked question.

 

 

 

Anthony Vieira from Paranoid Syllogism Routines