Andy’s Not Listening to Keith Jarrett on Palm Sunday
Selection Sunday. Neither Jesús Niño the gray
clouds—yeah I said it—that settle over
the morning agree I would not forsake
my rutabaga for your roses. Calico mind
a furry sun. Copper kettle corn-blue
eyes we could gospel all thru the political
debate I’m talkin’ ’bout the low & holy bone.
These gents here seem not to Total Recall
the Devil manages that sugar shack
down Quinnipiac we ride to roll. I’ve come back
black & gold come back necropolis.
Yo wit’ the grapefruit the sunlit manor shatter
our respectable constable for once in Acadia
National the ducks & Warcrafters
putting on the Spring. A man who supports
the junior senator for President hawks a loogie
the size of the water before me wonderful.
Your aviators obscure “the prettiest face” a quote
which I concur. Not but wolves will smash
the invisible wall a tiger rear up to defy
47 arrows flying. Maybe the aftermath
of fireworks means a thing to riverfolk.
Is never enough to mourning. Baby I come
to a conclusion for the first time the day is warmer.
The geese returning to their cousins orchestra
play for you the periwinkle hallway
color & shape the size of trillion-dollar bills
evokes that awful feeling revelation eternal
air drops from the ceiling lilac
as the young woman’s dress away from you
the war is just beginning. 1976. They are
happy now. Arrangement of my particles
smoke corrodes Odie. Bunko resolution.
Timothy Particular coaxes several guests
to quenching drink. Whilst.
A denuded mammoth looms in front of you
your chastity belt goes out the window
temperate climates accumulate
in the mirror. Lake generosity. Due in part
to the lack of diligence shown by ablebodied
bogeymen in the house the Doctor
will see no more patients ’cept they give
his dunking humility satisfaction.
The Tournament is on.
The Gold of an Ancient Fable Known to All
I welcome the astronauts to our
home & offer them of sweetbreads
brandy. They’re full of lizards—all right—
from a distant star one whose name in German’s
quite vulgar’n ours. Tongue. French
is the patio of rakes & rapscallions
& my did you have bacon for breakfast madam?
“Tang” the astronaut squawks his dying breath
swallow stilettos ol’ boy’s enamored with our
sexual technology. Full of pine trees float-a-dope
I offer thence the infield air dissolves
hard to anchorage. Sunday night.
Ho to the South! Big ol’ thunderhead beyond
your breasts are truly. My horizon.
Because it matters who won the Atlanta game.
Gorgeous particles of ibis surround you
this April Fool’s pecan in the bulging forest.
Fuckin’ coordinates to the chopper Pete
sake Panama Red. I find you rather butter-brown.
Get a turkey to fly he’ll beat you to the batter.
Appalling table manners aside the gorgons
were well-liked. The casualness of death.
He got the leather kind
the peppermint. Talk armada talk.
When you glow of happy things I am happy.
When you despair great snowflakes
fall around me headachy
a Colorforms cantata.
My third option moistened the stairwell I
swell into the offices of the modern
American Nazi Party mit a bucket of white paint.
CHALKEY MUST DIE
I to scrawl only to find—what—an open field
where a small girl posied by nymphs & satyrs
sat & I wanted me West Tennessee.
The whole time you’re wondering what his point
is his point is. Golden retrievers the R.V.
that good glancing flash when you fall in love
at the world’s end. The Argonauts
I meant. Great & now the colonoscopy. I tell you sweet
Slappy it never stops this omelet. I guess Boy Blue
he wanted a Farmer’s. If you keep on/up like this
the pool will fill with untold waterfowl
ready to reel your roll.
I Go into a Meadow & See the Highway Beyond
Undulate white from the riverbed wool
Citizen Scientist fuckin’ you up
with a knife. I collect you in the lodge
where many matters revive us to desire.
Her black penis tasted of
water fountain metal. Soda crackers
cheese & snow ’til the morning creak.
Ryan Adams ’s quit music so baby
the day has come for you to run away with me.
Hey I believe you. Hey. These are trumpets
playing in my mind right now
can you heed them? They sound like
Spaceship Earth smells. Triceratops
get into my gas tank diamond firebirds
while all my day goes high into night.
Everything is in the night. The glorious
news of your death has arrived & I just
have to say it’s sad about the dog
though in a way you at least have to
admit that Pandora undeniably real.
Beleaguered peasants. Beleaguered yore.
Ghosts again twist down ’round my ankles
bore into the starry garden grass.
Unto the coast is provided fair voyage
but once at the sea. The sea. In the night
to me my aromatherapies autumn so.
Red Rider on his pony Mr. Moonlight. Preach
the story ’bout the one guy who said to you
to you I would give everything but
it’s a secret everyone knows. Do it
another way ’til you come back around.
Sing from the megaphone to the hay bales
rousing in the barnyard ghetto by
the river then into the river then down
river to the sea. Sea become dread spaniel.
Holla. Don’t bother to break it down
just to build it up just to break it down
just to just to just to just to break it down.
It goes offline from time to time. Fierce
hippos prowl your eyes. Light breaking
east but no. Mountains. A darkness
within the outside of darkness so drenchingly
we have withdrawn to a newfangled
Winter soon there is no Spring.
Clowns in the night. Shamble to the edge
of the ring where arachnids dwell
& spin. Nothing history teaches
history teaches anything.