Jim Leftwich
Thursday
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Thursday
we’re what’s left over from perfection— The universe is an OLD mistake ----Allen Ginsberg, Aether (1960) same thing the mushroom said and showed some 17 years ago we fire with deathconscious mull flangers void created karma mystery cut tale of the destroyed feels "i am not naked nearly enough" changing clothes in the living room late last night the line was in my mind "i am not naked nearly enough" maybe i've been reading too much Ginsberg of late or maybe i should have read more of him 20 and 40 years ago the universe is what much strange stranger than room alley serious forest peaks half-noise eyes at shade mottled bowl arc-night antenna electric under monster magic moon tomorrow consciousness fields a wave of endless disturbance of repeated chimes histo anno half o res nov resume anima and i text of static hundred living to storie from people pillow they enough to get to pacific strait find aeolian alcove acorn light of our planetary fire in this more night than yourself how cosm the want peak nor wash on the toes sonic justice magic wants to put shoes on the vulnerable eyes the lark stays saying bring the thirst little secret coyote the pointed hand holds the head the pointing hand folds the bread the finger pointing at the moon the moons holds a glass of water as they have argued for ever and a year the stark seeds seep and the big clams bray the star seeds sleep and the pig clamps play the land around the toe is different around the tooth ocean smooth image leap caught longer water the frog so the worm upon ancient families the feathers therein a song made of wind sorrow sitting as myself inside each mystery when they start to climb steady as leaves in heaven groans and groan thigh imagine framed probability language of the night the universe doesn't care what we think about fragments this is the theme and the hem of them zen sounds as who is darker than the known and grounded like a toe work fictions shuffles psilocybin the whole long ghost and earth on horseback in Japan on the water bed the railroad tracks the ants eating the incense poster paprika crackers asparagus bottled garlic a can of lamp falcon coconut poems by Joanne Kyger the oozing miniature perfume mustard onions rips and chomps the dates do the angular gulfs arrange had the boots out-leapt their juice you would know oblong soap and litmus diamond emotions their embroidered cactus stories reststop alfalfa wastewater enduring the way shale strength of being thinks for itself things go through their roads by way of the thoughts they lose the universe is clear about where its earlier limits have been eternity now centuries motion signals the tree crawls they coat they diameter once island is island this is an arbitrary tarmac for students and their anchovy invited banish object on the nose had water alphabet the bananas adapted during a bunch of purposes and then later where they flee afterwards the mind plots what it's going to eat to broaden itself by a couple of notices to eat the mind by adapting like seaweed with its mouth wide-open or a seesaw like a modal rocking chair oscillator Miles Davis "so what" bobbing on the fresh water unaware that it is Thursday 10.12.2017
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