studies

again the trying on of houses, different arms, tin cans.
the heart in a paper sack. your own impossibilities. an
x over the chest of a bird. as if knowing the sun, as if.
the color is delicate here. the best we can make are a series
of studies. so let's no more retellings. the hands are inter
changable. replaceable. the living trees burning heavenward.
the soul coiled in a cup. the soil culled in a bowl. this will
cost me. my blood. my brain. i shall be completely ex-
hausted after the orchards. yes, the indelible x. the certain-
ty of naming during the collecting of names. i color myself
at the eyes. the worry of blue. the consequence of violet.

on the b&w BART

we see but one
color of her face & the
longing that is made out of paper
mache will be our ruin & the
ink is already running

of symmetry mediated

red, the muscle color
on white the body pre-
disposed for flags &
territories @ the fasci-
nation of fabric & shock
& gauze & the universal
addition sign all to-
warding off the hope
of subtraction of
you before me again meat

recollection

not the kind arms of
attention in the      on the
color longing mache 
cup white obedience worn
muscle red the      the curtains the round
red on disposed territories nation & addition warding of      you

the greening death clothed
white bare lark dried white
absolve every entropy

3 color separation

in the waiting room, snow falls on the furniture, while
the copier has been shaved of toner, placed in a pale gown
& humming birds take their turns, feeding from the i.v. drip

descent

whose rib, whose
wainscoting

color & atmosphere share
an evolutionary

tree, a tendency
of xylem

a gut of
autumn

observance

for a while i dreamed of contests
of flux between our liquid and solid forms.
more or less races. i say: they say dreams
are not in color. you say: in my dreams things
go on without attributes, are suspended
placelessly in space and i fly among
them. the flying being the dream. it also
is at times a swim or a crawl. oh
please rarefied ocean-trenched earth do
not loose us when we wake. i am tired
of every thing colored and having nothing
to try for. i lay still heavy in the bed
for a while saying those purple sorts of
things then get up.