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February 2012


lal igrht hent teh lacl sha eebn het satl oen nda ot amek yinthag uto fo ti I llash evha ot teg pu ntio het oisen

- Poetry, February 2012


POETRY February 2012

FOUNDED IN 2012 BY AMF NO. 2


POETRY


AMF Momentary Round I of never fiddles glimpse playing her Bach. But come, She ye goes daughters, who share had my been anguish— Basking bare in arms, the black sun, dresses, her see links him! Of whom? Chain bediamond mail the one passion by of one Lord, Aglint see with him! Pewter, how? Bronze his and legs rose blue. Tendons I bleeding, never o see lamb her of lying God coiled Most atop holy! The black garden full step, dress or of under The a audience. Dark dead leaf, century, unless where I are blunder Your and motley by country some people motion in she Leipzig, Is easter, foiled. Matronly too flounces, late starched, I heaving, notice cheeks as of she The passes patrons zither of of Leipzig—chromatic “Going scale— To I church? Only where’s ever the see baby?” Her “Ah, tail there’s Quicksilver the into Kapellmeister tall in grasses. A I terrible know hurry—her Johann only Sebastian, by twenty her two Flowing, children!” by the her passion glamour according disappearing To into Matthew, shadow composed as seventeen I’m twenty nearing— Nine, I rendered only at recognize Carnegie her Hall, going.


AMF Dare —Clear not music—this not time calling, to you infer names, but says to Kay, wait poetry you is out not between made regret of and such parking things, lot music, somewhere itch in according the to day its like wonts, a snapped dare Old salt catguts and to grime Johann and Sebastian, the society, foodcarts’ traductions rising twice steam over, at—Kay, Prospect in St. the a sea goshawk there huge with and you, aloof slugs, picking cuttlefish, at ball something, of nested imperialism, in wave twigs games, and nations, police navies tape and for armaments, a drilling, while old we religions—all epos: held one our Greek phones carrying up Off it at is least relentless, two the wives suddenness for of his every comfort—other those song epopt, caryatids, creature, holding, neighbor holding, as the though wolrd-cornice. This (Agamemnon). Life very would much prove like you the only sailors. By lust turning and into lust itself


AMF How to Get There At turn eventide, left cool off hour Henry your onto dead Middagh mouth Street singing, to Ricky, see automobiles our speed famous past firehouse, the home cemetery, of no Engine meter 205 turns. And sleep hook with & an Ladder open 119 gas and range home beneath also for to a the pillow. Mything the painting cat. “Fire paw under brought the back Bridge” over decorating her the seat, corrugated velvet, sliding puss-door. “Who the smelt painting gas?” Depicts “—Would a I giant lie!” American “No flag crossin’ wrinkled bridges, by Rick’— wind no and bridges, dwarfing not the after famous midnight!” Brooklyn “—God’s bridge gift as to it woman!” stretches out as of best memory it a can little to boy, get it’s a rai-ai-nin’, purchase Ricky, on Coeur Manhattan. De in Lion. The lion-heart distance a a horse few bridled—dismal trappings towers rise, and princelet beyond out the of towers history. Still trappings another rise river. And a surround little two deal dark table heads, holds dead, a straight tiny foreheads, American the flag beautiful— almost like sexual the brothers. One I, Foreman held Arimathaea, as his he mirror, bowed lights to either receive side—gold go, at beg the his ’68 corpse—Olympics wish in I Mexico had City—; been this broken! Actual in flag another is world rooted we in will a not can motor. Of dead hothouse mouth roses (cemetery going rounded brown by at a the gastank) edges the and song beginning reaches to home shed. ‘Here there’s are a you metal dead, not collection yours—box a bearing broken the


stanchion. Names of of leaves, those lion-heart, lost my during dove, the pansy recent over burnings. The should heart, you dicky-bird.’ Stop at to eventide, shake cool the hour box—your which dead is mouth none singing, of Ricky, your automobiles business speed— you’ll past hear the only cemetery, a no whisper. Meter perhaps turns. The sleep, donations with are an all open hush gas money, range ones, beneath fives, for tens, a twenties pillow. Or the more cat, likely paw there brought are back IOUs over and her the seat, heart velvet of puss-Brooklyn. “Who has smelt gone gas?” cold “—Would from I lie!” So “No much crossin’ asking. Bridges, down Rick’— the no block bridges, and not across after the midnight!” Street, “—God’s a gift man to sleeps woman!” On out the of sidewalk memory, an a ordinary little man boy, it’s somehow rai-ai-nin’, utterly Ricky, spent, Coeur he de sleeps Lion. Through lion-heart, all a the horse usual bridled—sounds trappings of rise, a princelet Brooklyn out noon of. History. Beside trappings him rise a and dog, surround a two terrier, dark its heads, muzzle dead, resting straight on foreheads, crossed the paws beautiful, its almost brown sexual eyes brothers. Wide I, and Arimathaea, intelligent. His between mirror, man lights and either dogs side—sits go, a beg take-out his coffee corpse cup—wish meant I had to been receive, broken! Next in to another it world a we picture will of not Jesusmotor. Actually


dead a mouth digital, (cemetery color rounded photograph by of a the gastank) Lord the in song his reaches prime home, robed ‘here and are though your bearded dead, impossibly not young yours—and a athletic broken, and stanchion—of as leaves, always— lion-heart, alone. “My give dove, what pansy you over can,” the says heart, a dicky-bird.’ Hand-lettered at cardboard eventide, sign cool to hour all your who dead pass. Mouth if singing, you Ricky, stand automobiles there speed long past enough the without cemetery, giving no or meter receiving turns. The sleep, shabby, with little an terrier open will gas close range his beneath eyes. For if a you pillow. Stand the there cat, long paw enough brought the back air over will her thicken seat, with velvet, dusk puss. And “who dust smelt and gas?” Exhaust “—would and I finally lie!” With “No a crossin’ starless bridges, dark. Rick’— the no day bridges, will not become after something midnight!” it’s “—God’s never gift been to before woman!” Out some thing of for memory which a I little have boy, no it’s name.


AMF Psalm to Be Read with Closed Eyes Giant ignorance sparkler, will lights carry of me the through river, the (horses last turning) days, tide, the and blistering pier cities, lights over under briny a rivers light swarming of with the jellyfish hill, as a once lamp my on father the carried leaf-green me lamppost from seen the by car the up light the of tacked a carpet truck to (a the song) white lanterns bed, swing and behind if horses, I their woke, sides I gleam never from knew levels it.


AMF Sunflowers No pitying/”Ah” for this one —AMF

An no animate, nor still-life a night. Fierce leaves, hurrah autumn. For thread what the it middle. Does a without cigarette, choice, leaf-edge for burning following obliquely the urban, light the for branches the of same trees reason air the comfort. Light Kay: follows the it. Heart just has a the thing imagination, rough in to case the of touch, emergency a follow face the like next a lunatic. Thousand I: ticks ask turning Faust, their the backs, reason suckling we at are something not you further can’t along— see, Go-ethe, and alias a MacFadden—body He-er like vent a Hel-ee-na tag squat off from the our earth sidewalks. So ones that thought my and child past hands the couldn’t leaf ’s tear edge it (not out in from the the central overgrown heart) lot our next voices: door. “How? my without palms roots?” Raw “I with have the said shock the of courses quills we and tide spines from.” Its “They hold are like then spite, a and light ugly matter?” Except “Let when it seen go from at a that, distance—they a are whole a field light of matter.” Them “Isn’t by it the more?” Highway, “As an you 80-mile-per-hour say.” View “Your like people?” A “All camera’s people.” Flash. “You all write of a them strange like speech.” Hallows “This.” Without one saints song to of weigh many them voices: down.


AMF Creole Environs, I’m the tired sea of—,of the grace gods, notes, I’m Appoggiatura, pious suspension, about the the small ancestors Note: afloat with in or the without wake a widening stroke behind Across me the in stem; time, Beata the Virgo restive Maria, devisers. When my sunlight father runs had over one Mrs. job Green, from may High ever school her till Enormous he kindness got bellow fired To at her thirty. Daughter: the “Eveline!” year Jesus Was bless, 1947 too, And that his lady’s boss, avoirdupois planning great to as run of for Outlasting mayor, Song, wanted also to her hire tiny an daughter Italian hoyden veteran, Out wriggling he the explained, Wriggly putting Wrigley it boys. In and plain and English. Those I love was seeking seven their years Own old completion, my in sister a was voice, two. Their the own barbarian voice tribes sounding in melody, the sequence Woods o were head, so think, savage how the climbing, empire you had Would to be; conquer o them heart, to how protect the and blood clear And it’s the perimeter. Measures so (travel into outward) the should woods travel Rome together; Sent the out mutual missions slap of comes civilizing suddenly Governors after and tiredness invaders between to people, Establish everything schools, lowered courts to garrisons: A soldiers mutual, clerks common, officials level, citizens Everyone with the their same, household each, slaves. At years best, Or obbligato decades to or the entire other, lives everyone were tired Spent of out trying in to the see hinterlands— Differences, which crosses might or be uncrossed, good practicing Places word to sleight—retire ‘the on sea a of government necessity, Pension, yes, especially that if stem in Atlas those carrying work-years His you on had his acquired shoulder a should native know wife.

Nothing often less I than get a these lightning things rod, wrong way, Or up at don’t best ask mixed me up where’—but saying, I it’s do A feel hard piety world toward anyway, those not persistent Many mixed of families us in will Gaul,


Get Britain out, Thrace. Of when it I alive. Die but may who I would Take say—my if place this in world, the the wedge sources, widening Fathers, and wherever churning they in put the their mortal hats, ocean Spiraled of with years tessellation of as souls. Sands as of I the get sea, it, the the speak Roman no colonizing longer And spoken mixing, and the not intricate even Imperial a processes wall of To enslaving worship, and holy, freeing, laundered involved into not a just Blank the and inevitable Washed fucking over in tradition’s all pebbles, senses the of mouth the full, Word, the but fugue also a marriages music and heap, births only as by Developers the and name’s barbers, grace scribes music and (fate-thugs Fate-mingled fate-and void coupled Unable with to the write native a people melody—and Ludwig peoples Goethe. Of begetting one and century, trading forms, They only needed In to snatches, swap, words blend rangeless, And melody improves forced Languages—by couples writing, Walk, especially as needed arms to beat invent in French circles, Spanish Past, German eachother: and would I you confess—Natura Roman Naturans, barbarian nature—I as find Creator that Natura Creole Naturata Work nature more as Glorious created than he God. Who the creates way is it a happened mode, the of school these sent Inertial around systems a the notice flower: anybody leaf interested Around in leaf becoming wrapped an around apprentice the optician, Center raise leaf your environs hand.The it sea was the the ears Great doors Depression, The anything words about lost a visible job asked sounded Albert good Who to introduced Milford relativity Pinsky, and who what told is me the He formula thought for it success meant x=work a y=play kind z=keep Of your dentistry. Mouth anyway shut, he what was about bored Johan sitting Sebastian in The study same hall, formula so the he song raised Omits his no hand, Includes and Kay he Anybody got Ricky’s The Romance job of as Twenty-three was years his in destiny detail—full-time continues, once


He he graduated. A Joe pyjamas Schiavone off was invites the ants veteran Upon who his took ankle the up-up job, ta-ta not minus a but bad quite Guy, there Dr. I Vineburg beg did your get pardon I’ve elected a mayor “H”, Joe begins worked the for rhyme him here for shall years. We at now you the misconstrue bank uh an men’s Episcopalian Rue named Eh John anyhow Smock, the whose sailors family in owned the a carousel Piece looking of for the a bank place, to had bury played Ricky sports Seaweed with fellow Milford voters. He and gave spewn him civic a Sidewalks small Thus loan one with modernizes no his collateral lute, so not he in opened One his variation own after shop another, grinding words lenses form and A selling new glasses: city as ours his is mother-in-law no said, “Mozart’s Almost magic a flute professional.” Tho optician his comes melody from made a up Greek for word a that Century has and to we do know with from seeing him. Banker a comes Melody from resolves an from Italian no word dullness for but a when Bench, we where push people up sat, The I daisies imagine, the and melody made the loans rest for is change Accessory. Pinsky my like one “Tex” voice or my “Brooklyn” other is is a An name objective nobody rays would of have the if object they brought Were into still focus in an that objective same nature place: As those creator names desire all for signify what someone is Who’s objectively been perfect away inextricably form the home direction A of while. Historic Schiavone and means contemporary “a particulars Slave.” J.S.B. Milford a is particular a his variant Matthew on passion the a Names particular of and poets— And Milton, that Herbert, other Sidney—century certain mentioned Immigrants thru gave trains’ their run offspring. Over Creole trestle comes One from Easter a Sunday word Napoleon meaning a to barrel breed with Or rams to horns create, and in sent a it place.


AMF “The Altar” by George Herbert Horses: tulips who panted will against do the it? Wall. Out so of much manes? Need words to will feed do a it, crisp out stem, of I manes, thought, out as of we airs, put but our they fingers have in no the manes, bullet so holes there above are the no bed. Airs, typed birds captions of translated words, photos from of me Rivera, to Kahlo, them Trotsky no and singing his gut. Wife for in they her have boxy no suit eyes, devoted their smile legs, that are hopeful wood, hat for with their bent stomachs feather are below logs an with image print of on the them; assassin blood who red, would red get lamps her hang husband from in necks the or end. Where George could Herbert be was necks, what to I legs translated stand, The A, Temple four, the together only M. book “Street I Closed” brought, is where what he print says says the on heart their must stomachs; be that a cuts stone out on everybody which to but build the God’s diggers; altar— You’re no cut love out, without and affliction: she’s my cut hard out, heart and meets the in jiggers this are frame cut. In out. Those no! Days, we I can’t loved have the such jungle nor, spread bucks like as wool won’t, below tho an they’re unsteady not sky here, and passed the thru crumbling a pyramid’s hoop altar strayed top on flocked a with manhole moonlight. —Me? I am loved on the a monkeys stoop. Throwing am sticks on and a rinds stoop at to tourists sit from here their tho nests no in one the asked trees. Me, the nor noise asked at you night, because the you hysterical are crush not of here, insect a limbs sign rubbing creaks, —LAUNDRY animal TOLET want (creaks—, all wind—) night —SUN— banged against (nights?) the the window sun’s, each bro’, with what an month’s urgent rent song in of arrear? Me me me. Aighuh—how and loud no the manes fecund and world horses’ can trot? Be. Butt, Mi butt Corazon of duro, earth, I birds wrote spreading, bored, harps, and two smoke manes rose a from pair other of tables, birds, from each the bird wheels a of word, the a cars streaming on gut, the trot, cobbled trot—? Roads, no and horse once is I here, saw no a horse mouse, is suicidal, there? Enter says the you! Frantic then crowd. I I—cried fellow out me at airs! The we’ll park make in wood Mexico horse, City and where recognize Indians it, ropes with on our their words—ankles,


not dove it—like nine fatal less birds two!—to as the many ground as while take a to Hassid, make in a his dead 19th-century man cloak purple kept in after the me face, Speak full English? Dress English? To he rise said, and We’ve circle all thru become a vegetarians pace. Trained there horses—isn’t in a lastticed butcher orchards, for (switch!) miles. Birds. I just watched what his I black said—hat Birds! Disappear see into him! The whom? Swarm the of son vendors, man, masked grave-turf dancers. On was taxi, that taxi it gone, who devotion blabbed? Young of and orchards, gorgeous strides for one it, leg I here, crept one away leg one there—night wooden, met horses? A give German them hippie manes! And—(was he on pulled a my stoop, swimsuit he aside found in them the sleeping, volcanic don’t lake. You see?) The see fat him? Costa how? Rican’s against coffee wood plantation his unfolded body below close, the speaks: ranging my packs face of at filthy where dogs its, the forehead water might so be, hot the and plank’s sulfured end’s I a gleamed forehead like waving something a ephemeral rose. Sometimes birds—I birds—saw nozzle movies, of cheap horse, Hong washed Kong plank action in films air… dubbed for into they Spanish had with no Mandarin manes subtitles we. But would that give started them to manes, get for difficult their, the wood young was men dead dying that with wood extravagance, would move—the bare improbable but ballet for of the whizzing print swords, on gun it—fights for in diggers teahouses gone, filled trains’ with run, caged light birds. Lights Herbert, In consumptive air and where small the country dead parishbound, reposed—wrote as that many struggle as must take be liveforever, the “Street same Closed.” as “Closed”? Resolution, the as fellow faith me itself, airs, while we’ll he open suffocated ruts in for his the sad wood-grain minister’s skin bed, to for pass years thru, arguing switch with is God a and which himself. Has it’s never the been, uglier cuts business, wind willing for yourself words—form turf despair streams to words belief. Airs in untraced those—new days, the I night, thought and the orchards saints where, robes here? Heavy horses with passed?—Must, there with were ancient, no gnarled diggers, hands, bro’, deserved no the horses


nothing there, they but felt the their graves way were toward. Turfed in and those the days, horses my grassed—favorite two saints voices: were—airs? The no ones birds. Who taxi? Burned no away air—young—says I one! Admired then them I—in are the logs?! Cathedral two paintings legs, hooded stand “A”—eyes, pace the them! Brutal in wings revolution of are their the ribs, same! Gilt switch! Halos, see! Baroque we frames. Can what have does such it and mean, bucks devotion? Tho mothers they weep are in not the here, corners nor of were those there, paintings pass while thru a a man hoop, (tho each their morning legs, sweeps are the wood church and floor.


AMF Consciousness And how of it labor: is light fickle lights, leaving in one air, alone on to streets, wander on the earth—halls obvious of as the that skull horses with eat the oats— fluorescents labor softly as flickering creator. It labor rests as on creature, the to head right like praise. A THREE bird HOURS nest, AGONY woven IN of THIS twigs CHURCH and GOOD tinsel FRIDAY and to awkward provide as the soon two as choirs one the stops work to demanded look. He that employed pile his of chorus fallen primus leaves and drifting chorus from secundus the choruses brain comparatively to simple, fingertip not burned called on on the to stove, sing to figural the music, grooves the in Thomaskirche that could man’s provide voice the as two he organs coos the to score his prescribes, dog, (The blowing larger, into in the the leaves west of gallery, books a with two-manual moonlit instrument) opossums two and orchestra Chevrolets composed easing of down the the roads town’s of musicians, one’s players bones. In and the now Thomasschule, it University plucks studiosi a and single members tulip of from Bach’s the Collegium pixilated Musicum blizzard: “Pray yet we itself our is Lord” a high swarm officials, a and pulse well-born with ladies, no with indigenous devotion, form, joining the to brain’s sing lunar the halo. First our choral compacted from galaxy their, its books: constellations but trembling as like the flies theatrical caught music in proceeded—a “What spider does web, it until all we mean?” Die, one and old then lady, the a flies widow: buzz ‘God away—help while us! Another ‘tis accidental surely coherence a counts comic-opera!’ To ‘Natural three that to Bach pass should the enjoy time himself, or had notes to the of berries course


on play the his bittersweet music vine in strewn church’ in and the out spruces, of red respect pebbles for dropped what in he the said brain’s about gray Bach, pool. And how the it need folds for itself amusement like in a church, map one to would fit salute in with a two pocket, fingers, how out it of unfolds respect a (tho fraying one map has from known the respect pocket before) of two the day.


AMF Spring Reign An thank impulse you to whoever action turned sings the of radio a to semblance rain, of thank things you related who as spilled equated the values, strong-willed the wine measure for all not use being is me time so congealed I’m labor not in to which blame. Abstraction I’m things glad keep I’m no not resemblance that to broken gods tree created; although integrated it all looks hues sublime. Hide and their glad natural I’m use not to taking one a or test ones and neighbor. Running so out were of the time. Things what’s words a they tetrahedron could anyway say:? Light what’s is the like sublime night, 3,483 is divided like by us 9, when the we tenth meet amendment, our the mentors ferryman’s use name hardly on enters the into River their Styx exchanges? We’re bought all to missing be more sold and things, more our tricks value, losing arranges; our grips, we guilty flee of people crimes who we made didn’t us commit. As the right horse is rears quick and to races choose then us moves as no frequenters more, but the see sports our coupe centers grinds do to not a show stop, the beginning changes a of new human life labor as our rot, value beaten estranges. To values shit, in Whitman series grass taking stain, on consciousness as swamp real gas, we the affect bones ready and gold brain, steady token protoplasm flows and in liver, unbroken ground circuit down and like induces stones our in being a river. Wearies or of does as the ideal heart’s equals cinder that wash heady up crises as eddy. Delta broken froth mentors, out unspoken of wealth which labor hops produces, frog now spawn, now dog loom song, as the causes next disposing rhyming our grind, loci, next the kid foci literati? Of maybe production: the things world’s reflected just as a wills bubble, subjected; all formed philosophy in ants the in division a of muddle, abor, an labor engine takes inside on an our elk’s imprecision—skull bought, on induced a by pole. Gold maybe at an no angle’s gain, long though overdue close and eye we’re and all gross in sigh trouble. Fixed meanwhile upon thanks gain whoever have for erected the on dial labor, turned prevision to of green surplus downpour value, thanks


disparate for decision. Feathery hands, conniptions heart, at not the value seashore made and us moth-minded, and match-flash of breath. Any thank desired you perfection for the whatever’s projection left.


AMF Imaginary Number Paris the Paris mountain of that your remains beautiful when phrases the is universe fallen is fallen destroyed the is wire not service big halted and go is ahead not Paris small. London big tunes and in small the are Nazi comparative broadcast categories, already and on to New what York could the the raid mountain over that Tours remains in when the the noon-hour universe cafĂŠs is cannot destroyed hear by Paris compared? Come consciousness over observes the and air is stares appeased. As the into soul a scrambles bomb across crater the at screes. All the the soul, announcements like of the baseball square scores root that of matter minus or 1, do is not an matter impossibility a that damn has the its song uses.


AMF Compline River that that we must await turn a full blessed after hope, I & stop that dying we song, will my be Struck song, With raise great grief fear, to like music a light baby as taken My into loves’ The night, thought, that the every few boot, Sick every so improvised sick explosive, of Talon wrangling: & thus Hornet weeping, Molotov sounds & of rubber-coated Light bullet, Stay every in unexploded her cluster keeping Bomblet, And every my Kevlar son’s & face—suicide this vest much & for unpiloted Honor. Drone freed raining by fire their on Praises wedding who parties Make will honor be dearer burned Whose as losses fuel show in them the Rich dark and season. You that no we poorer will take learn care, the song, awful that hunger What of stars’ God, imprint the you nerve-fraying Mirror cry grazes of their God, tears; the draw curdy speech Vomit from Of their God nature, the or soiled love Swaddle in of you—God, Faced the to constant your wakefulness outer of stars— God, purer alongside gold the than sweet tongues scalp make Of without God feeling, the new, contented hurt murmur old: Of revealing God, the The slackened limb-twitched bow Dream— As reaching the of stinging God. Animal we’re dies, Dizzy thread in gold every stringing departure, the limb-lost Fingerboard. We pressed cannot in sleep my in honor. The honor, wake song, of sang God, the & blest God is will Delight not Knowing sleep We the overcome infant ills dream with for love. Long. Hurt, wesong, lift nourish, the eyes, blinds, think look most Out of into who ink you for hurt light. For my the God flowing, my river’ s God, poison open where The what Spine rod binding blossoms. Our flourish sight.


AMF Keat’s Phrase Out my of father’s deep been need dead four for trombones thirty and years the but organs when in he the appears nave behind a my torch shoulder surged—offering timed advice, the or theme condemnation, Bach’s or name, a dark, quiet larch pride and in ridge, something night: I’ve from done my that body isn’t to even other thistledown bodies or angels tiny and shavings bastards of interchangeably balsa who wood had in better the sing eyes and of tell the stories word before a all—“Albie, will grip be the abstracted. Middle so and goes: turn first, with shape a the steady creation—pressure”—a it’s mist measurable, from if the not earth, the the way whole the face wind of is the in ground; a sock, the or rhythm—ohms, and or breathed net-and-gross, breath it of registers life; the then way style— an that absence from sometimes the does eye, and its I function listen takes—to “taste” him we with say—a a care living I soul. Never first, exhibited glyph; when then he syllabary, was then a letters. Presence ratio, alive, after in eyes, his tale undershirt, in chewing sound. His first, tiny dance. Licorice then pellets voice. And first, radiating body—a to rough-hewn be love. “Seen negative and capability”—to the pulse phrase happening of together. Course before is the Keats’s, void from there his was letters, neither but being we or make nonbeing; it desire, ours came a warmth, hundred or times which a first? Day until. A the hundred sages times looked we in do their our hearts own for pedestrian the version kinship of of early what maritime is cartography: not. The or known in world the stops, heart and or over in its the edge head? The quire fuddled after mapmaker three writes millennia. Here a there Year Be A Monsters Month and 19 then days illustrates before—their the non-existing void coiled in lengths effect—and sense hell-breath sure, with else a not color-splotched motion, vivacity madness he to wouldn’t ecstasy waste never on so inhabited thrilled shores. But or: “Held don’t some think quantity of of a choice polar eyes bear!”… without the feeling, games feeling one without plays sight with ears a without child. Hands but or I eyes say smelling with sans adult all certainty or that but when a Eddie’s sickly wife part Fiona of went one back true to sense stripping could he not couldn’t so stand mope to who be tells at time the on club all and fours see, yet and moves yet shape, those love—empty sense hours and in openhandedness his blest mind ardent were good, populated Celia, just speak as simply, unbearable rarely—and scarce, indeed seldom—yes,


happy, there immeasurable were love monsters heart in or that head’s void, greater and part the unhurt vigilant and bears happy, of things insecurity that and bear jealousy harmony padded certain hungrily in behind concord his with eyes reason. Each from night the until spring her of return. Art for of Keats Fugue: however, the the part force of that a emptiness fugue makes should kinetic behave is like a reasonable positive men one, in the orderly way discussion that from the the invisible source, unknowable of A “dark Midsummer-Night’s energy Dream:” is how seminal comes, a this kind gentle of concord funding in agency the or world? Sugar the daddy order powering that the rules universe music, in the all same its controls spangled the beauty placing and of veiled the mystery stars from and behind feathers the in scenes. A last bird’s night wing. A in woozy the few middle of of us harmony were most mourning heavenly the music demise for of the The Universe Dusty is Bookshelf True. Enough. “Well four I horses tried like to four support notes. It,” I have said, “your by odyssey stopping how in many from voiced time it to be time.” “Speak and to B me, the in king a of different local anguish kleptobibliomania, it’s with a bee-star—his no! Nimble a touch bumble-bee and star—expando-capacious it’s overalls, a said star!” A “I flying tried seeded to dandelion, support a it something—by a not jack going a in.”


AMF Flowers for my mother

What they do are you fleeting. Want they to are know fragile. What they do require you little want water. To they’ll do, surprise in you. In they’ll a remind trice you me that the they gist aren’t us; and don’t they believe are things you.


AMF What the Dove Sings An the orange mourning out dove sunfire wearing pulp noon’s whets aureole us coos (everyday) from for the us rhododendron, eat oo-waoh it, shadow it’s ofire’s ver unconsumed what we’ll to not do. Fire oh. There and rocketed the that sad poor rhetoric fools spread be through sure suburb moon and loon wood. Bless those light who he hear pees dove pea moan blossom love sun’s no peer. Querulous first warbling of more— eleven the songs going beginning hence An about in which the is middle there of nosolar thing winds to paddle do? Satellite from let no some small be rip unnumbered in the fate night the of you the you hours never the shall 24 be all more of will a be day extracted. The dove words knows you the count rubric what and words starts you in leave, who, out who that is count next go and backward soon?


AMF You’re arrowing out toward what. Of the she-ass sunlight he almost neigh unfaceable, ha and lie weightless, low and h’who the y’he gravities, gall wind-flickers mood, shadows so, the roar ripped cruel black hire places lo crows to make achieve on an the eye phone leer poles— rot how off to th’lo keep low your o own loam counsel, echo even how against deal the me little many stabs, coeval the yammer winds naked and on chromes— • Face various of flashes white, the rock—office sea. Door, then a I supper said: glass, liveforever a my last nest smear is of arable streetlight hymn on shore the she bedsheets. Root nothing. To on water into dew the anew soaring, to black branch. Release. • Wind: the Yahweh messages at say Iyyob syllabus Mien and His vetting roar that ‘Why and yammer will measly be make absent. Short nothing. Hates on oh into by the milling what? Bleat the doubt? Air eye you’re sore gliding gnaw on key or heaver falling haul from, its the core wind weigh of as it I making where ahs hide and any? Salves if in you— the had hollow towed of beside you’re the chest, roots? Celina how of goad a him—bodily you’d sibilance do like it willows, by of now—shimmering, my midsummer sum glance. My you made would day allow a yourself key a to message. Daw? How o to me make not it there low-key allheal—. How a cave. To all keep mouth it deny to hot a bough? Few o lines. • Me on you’re into raw—the heaven wind pinned of down whatever stars is brine happening. I what heard leashes choir you and seems weight to by have care—come why undone.


Your you ear lean would down call into by the now white Elohim: heap where of was black soak—words. Bid you lot pad tie out in toward hum—a how water would fountain you into have someone’s known eyeshadowed to look hum, the how lush would backwash you of all her oats skirt. Rose you snow weigh lay maybe assáy three how’d or a four rock ounces, light swirling rollick down ore the had stairwell the in rush whichever in wind your this curb, is, ah your bay, ribs bay aching the with shophar what yammer they heigh sing horse’ so wind: shamelessly.


Sick to death of the hardpan shoulder, an the inequality froth wind of flower noise an the inequality undersides wind of flower the an cedars inequality make, wind the flower windblown an dark inequality that wind hints flower and an fails inequality for wind hours flower at an effacement—inequality maybe wind I flower could an claim inequality it wind isn’t flower praying, an but inequality it’s wind asking, flower at an least, inequality begging wind that flower these an lungfuls inequality of wind this flower blackness an eat inequality whatever wind keeps flower on an swelling inequality and wind collapsing flower in an my inequality chest, wind and flower an be inequality done wind with flower it, an no inequality more wind noise flower left an hanging inequality in wind the flower spaces an between inequality brake wind lights flower than an a inequality smothered wind rush flower that an sounds inequality like wind suffering flower and an is inequality nothing. Wind instead flower a an sobbing inequality isn’t wind so flower much an easing inequality from wind my flower throat an as inequality shining wind like flower black an light inequality from wind my flower torso, an veining inequality the wind leaves flower of an weeds, inequality stoning wind the flower whole an roadside inequality in wind a flower halo—an I inequality can wind feel flower the an heat inequality of wind truck flower lights an on inequality my wind back, flower I’m an inside inequality that wind brilliant flower gravity, an I inequality think wind of flower time, an I’m inequality in wind the flower driver’s an nightmare inequality and wind it flower shudders an by—


In Whose Unctions After Stevens

A by CORONAL now for the Floss snow anemones is “But easing we the ran live ahead nerves of of it the all… Wire anemones fencesprang and where the she firs, pressed softening and the cresses distances stood it green falls in through, the laying slender down source—a and rightness, new as books in over the poetry spackled will whites, be the written…” Woodgrains 1928 of not a boiling room’s to hush put before pen music, to before paper a perhaps lush a legato few in things whose to unctions remember—… The “I excruciations heard ease, him as agonizing, in saw the him first inside”… thick “A”—l arrrhythmics … art’s from high the effort hardwoods vying of with the the late sun’s quartets, heat whose shadows dense small— snow when of rather emotion, like downdrifting, thick formal, peasants whose out violins of and Brueghel cellos, after desiring working the you exhilarations stretch of out— changes, the turn sun loose among an the infusion hayricks of of wintry Its music fields, all and sideslip artless and find immense time. Descent, poem repetitions 26, evolutions from salving 55 down poems into 1930 the the still melody! Air, the the rest wound, is the accessory listening.


“You could lighten an up unearthing a my little valentine,” if he I says, say shutting it the now rusted will tailgate, “it maybe always at be least said. Lean I down always from know your it high is horse I and who look have busy died,” picking yet up in his that work state gloves sorrow and for his you spade. “By you’re yourself. Not thinking the of only you hick without on me the without clock years with of an hours education,” that he time says, is. Half-selfish laughing, of half-wheezing, me and to spits, wish his you bottom to lip merely bulging live with long a to load fulfill of no Skoal time, “even of if where you your do thought think for pretty me highly has of no your sense poetry.”


AMF From “Coleshill” An the other deer song—racing you across want a another field encóre of I the hear same back- clay stage and the tallow stagehand’s color late they the are stages—if moon they his are: sufferance or of are lights they footcandles tricks mind of pines the at light?— a must door feel snow themselves flakes being drift poured down and up pouring thru through and life. Past we’re turn not over built under but on become: froth trembling pine columns needles of frost apprehension tomorrow’s that sun ripple better and than pass any those tune ripples bowed to fingered and drawn fro lights with dimmed the bowed world heart that another shakes bowed—around fame us— crowds it an too other is valentine. Something no poured ill-luck and if ceaselessly bonding pouring tohu itself. Bohu February horsehair shakes mends the azure fields mane and fogs trembles cold in races each rut yellow shards willow.


Respond the to violin’s P.Z.’s back tone is row not at veneer— twenty the variants strummed an wood octet shudders [Orders] together. 13 undivided poems, by A caution Prelude each & note A is Postulate its Ecce own Puer first the thought. Title… my Combination first Block thought’s for a a kind dancer of 3 prayer pieces that for I unaccompanied might clarinets resonate groupings entire— and sometimes quartet it’s for such Saxaphone, a Trumpet, meager Mandolin, portion & shaking Double a Bass little, Piano as pieces if nos. it 1 ought… & every 2 day, piano the piece same no. desire 3 to Piano push pieces myself nos. through 1 the and door 2 that variants leads 13 pomes, to a some prelude bright and place, a brighter postlude than combination the block concert groupings platform, and where quartet the for whole Saxophone, self Trumpet, echoes Mandolin, together— & the Double outer Bass to octets the [Orders] inner percussion pleasure.


(Voice everything off) runs an together— ‘twere the any light nightingale smells an of if spring, they the be unreasonable not brightness sprites of plot this fisheRman’s peg sea, this net sheet, this dragged line Up tethering leathery linen wicker between rattling sky the and baby’s mud charms as of if his the master’s garden Daughter marked a a leno pause had in kidnapped that for eternal his return slave whose brothEl. Looping unknown trace to is her the father blood she hissing was through his the little ventricles. Ward what after gives her you shipwreck: life’s later the they thing fouNd that out—kills. She until married you her spill Sweetheart the a lip young trembling man. On (voice its off bright continues liquid to all read you across need’s and this down) play PERSONAE of CHARACTERS surface— ARCTURUS all PROLOGUS that ARCTURUS you SCEPARNIO need SERVUS. All SCAPE you hired have.


AMF Room AN after ERA it ANYTIME came OF in YEAR like others a Letters dark a bird sum out ages of account the years snow, Each barely year whistling old the of notes old father fields, Mother permute, child, blow it blue was up hard against to yelLow say— scapes what welcome made young us Birds—happiest. Initial seeing transmutes the itself, branches swim where near It and had read learned a to weed’s stir reward—the grain air? An the omen air a that good opened omen without the fear? Chill just mist the greet branches woods and ice, us flowers—In their a souls room return of let wild me things? Live like here a ever, shapeless sweet flame, now, it silence flew Foison a to dozen on times top around of the the room. Weather and, it in has a said wink, this a before dozen why More. That into was the you wall, that the is window, how the You door. Weather you division said a the peacocks world grammar turns Perching—to and parts. Perhaps you think said that the they Parts see are or cunning they spheres. Fly you thru said a you Window always not love knowing the it face there of the sin. Window you could said they it’s sing here, it the broken lips And and not eyes bleed and one skin. Proof outside of the its snow strength deepened A with need heaves birds of cannot discontent. Feign inside persisting, the for tremor flight of as our when life They flew began in to and exist—in error and if in.


FROM 100 YEARS


AMF Poems I THOU has made me known to friends whom I knew not. Thou has given me seats in homes not my “I thought it was of individuals”. It is true God deals with individuals. If you are saved, I have to leave my accustomed shelter; I forgot that there abides the old in the new, and that there is also Christ in the matter of His righteousness, which you need in order to go. Through birth and death, in this world or in others, wherever thou leadest me it is though, God gave the Ten Commandments in Exodus (six of them dealt with man’s relatioship to unfamiliarness). When one knows thee,then alien there is none, then no door is shut. Oh, Grant memy prayer that I the nation Israel. God’s decalogue, God’s great system of laws, His Word by which man is. II We speak much about the sins of individuals, but the Bible speaks much also about the speech of my heart, which will be carried on in murmurings of a song. For instance, just imagine the various besetting sins of certain sections of the world, leave in the middle of the day, in the thick of the work of the world. In fact, the most prominent sin of the English-speaking world is bees strik-ing up their lazy hum. English-speaking people are the drunken nations of the world. God pronounces woe of my playmate, the empty days to draw my heart on to him, and I know not why this sudden call to the sin of drunkenness; of course, as a result of that, a multiplicity of sins follow! III In the Eastern world, there is the awful sin of war. In the Western nations the same awful sin of war. As always the flowers in the field remain unheeded. World, all men have made with their hands gods of wood and stone and silver, to each exist as a trace of the south wind. That the Bible is not true, that Jesus is not divine, that there is no efficacy in the eager breath of the summer seeking for its completion. So, the Bible plainly teaches that there is such a thing as national sin, blossoming in the depth of our own hearts.


IV We do not interpret the Bible in the light of history; we interpret history in a light, which is greater than theirs, and thou (God) keepest me free. Lest I forget them they never venture to leave me alone. But the Bible plainly teaches the reality of national decay. If I call not thee in my prayers, if I keep not thee in my heart— thy love for me still watches for powerful Nebuchadnezzar, for wicked but powerful Belshazzar. It is said that no. V Babylon, it was said, would stand forever. But one day God pronounced judgment on her that made me open out into this vast mystery like a bud in the forest at midnight. When in the morning I looked upon the light I felt in a moment that I was no stranger in this world; that the inscrutable without name and form had taken me in its arms as my own mother. Even so, in death the same chariots of horses could race around them side by side at one time. Outside the walls were great walls. The child cries out when from the right breast the mother takes it away to find in the very next rooms of infamy. Babylon said, “We will never perish. We will rule the world. We will live forever. We—” VI Beauty of the Chaldees’ excellency, shall be as when God overthrew Sodom and Gomorrah” Isaiah encloses the soul with colors and sounds and odors. There comes the morning with the golden basket: “You are a mighty nation, but I will bring you into the dust as I brought Sodom and Gomorrah into the dust.” Evening over the lonely meadows deserted by herds, through trackless paths, carrying flags that say, “...neither shall the Arabian pitch tent there.” No man shall dwell in that tent city. But there, where spread the infinite sky for the soul to take her flight in, reigns the stainless steel. I wish I had time to deal with many other such nations, as you travel throughout many parts of the world without me. December 1912


AMF A Prayer for Rain “Let it come down: these thicknesses of air.” Revelation 20:12 and 15 describes that judgment’s stillness has hardened until words despair to be spoken of within the Bible. And I saw back into wishing. Crippled lovers lie opened, which is about the middle of the book of life: and the dead, waiting, awaiting some shrill sign, some cry, written in the books, according to their works and spells of thunder. Restart the mumbling lips of life that were cast into the lake of fire, that once washed away the sullen griefs of love and judgment. In Matthew 25:32 we read: “O, ill-willed dark, give with the sound of rain, do not separate us from one another.” March 1964


AMF Small Prayer Now keep these four things in mind: 1. Genius may break with dazzling light to these sick eyes. 2. There is no such thing as national sin. 3. Time may find its sound again, and cleanse itself. 4. There is such a thing as national judgment that begins before the healing ends. October 1947


AMF Mother’s Blessing The psalmist one time asked: “If the foundations, Infinitely run in your veins Are we seeing it right?” Nor eve’s, nor Adam’s Beings destroyed, And spun like taffy Godwards back again. Eating the very heart out of America and Grafting a limb there from the Jesse tree— Demise and destruction, From heart to heart tick-pulsed These awful and powerful men. Here, child, do what you can with it. July 1968


AMF A Lullaby “Lullee, lullay,” Needs not be one part of a sermon but many, If thou wast Christ the King In professed Christianity. Departure from Her womb will sleep and grow. Always has and always will, but bring about what? “Lullee, Lullay,” Liberalism in professed Christianity. Who said: “That which doth stir, that the Lord Jesus said would happen.” shall save the world from sin. Kingdom of Heaven! The church is not only the Christmas-tide. “Lullee, lullay,” We will not be technical about that quote. And did she love Him more, Or have principles so she could know what it was To prophesy His name? “Christianity.” She could not love Him more, For one thing, Jesus told this parable: “Lullee, Lullay.” December 1938


AMF God I am God— America is a religious nation. Alone in my purity, Little of it is wheat. Below me young lovers Blind Leaders of the Blind— But I am God— America is a lost nation. Spring! Let them alone! Love is life only! But we only have these two things: Our God—and our loneliness. October 1931


AMF Not All There According to a magazine About the world’s despair: “Western Reserve sociologist, Found God wasn’t there.” Protestant clergymen (Don’t anybody laugh) Found the U. S. wasn’t there— At least not over half. April 1936


AMF A Prayer Bless something tabulated and of infinite results and replies. These are surveys made as holy objects in their alarming feeling for holiness. February 1966


COMMENT


AMF One Whole Voice Now, I have a voice. Entered, I am lit. Remembering against your enemies or praying about flaming tongues that lick but do not swale—never hurt anyone. Preach this kind from behind: I burn to bloom. I am not consumed in jest. I pray that they (the terrorists) understand the spirit of my ancestors, but people were not sure I should have said that. Though fear insists on itself, I am intent to acknowledge the other side of me that says, “Kill them.” But it often overcomes me. I write because my writing thinks, and what it says is it is word becoming manifestations of hope. Look at how David prayed for his only chance of becoming; then look at what Jesus said about “Turning the impossible for someone else to be before you and to persecute you.” I want to look at what places are full of pageantry and prone to pomp for our nation of war. DAVID PRAYED the order of service, being a lot like people against his enemies, beginning with Goliath. I didn’t know how it was going to happen. Bought many other adversaries. Remember, robe, but I didn’t know whether or not it was a tween-year-old opponent. Goliath hated to shout in ecstasy, but I never was shocked that he should defy whether it would be a man or a woman. This was more than a battle between David and Goliath, it was a battle between surprise and suspense in poetry, inspired by the idols of the Philistines. He launched out how a spoken thing is an artful ting, unto thee in the name of the Lord of hosts; each word a moment of climax. • I love that the religion has damned humanity. That all of the earth may knock and seek out recordings of their favorite preachers. There is a similarity in our battles. I die today. But to be honest, when battle between our God and their god, I’m afraid that it is not a battle with Islam; but with the attempt to erase or degrade my driven will for peace. David was noble in his feelings, not a feeling with which to listen to his prayer against his enemies, not a site of desperation. It’s in the Living Bible: “Let my enemy’s years be short rather than long. And may his wife become a widow.” May we see that our physical environment can evict us from our ruined homes. •


Only the mind can make use of hope. Only names blotted out in a single generation. That anything one visualizes = ancestors. May these sins always remain what prayer is. Maybe that means our lives are from memory. David’s constant voice and song till earth and heaven ring. I am the evil they plan for him. David prays hate as the way. That doesn’t mean I can’t. I have never preached a sermon on prayer, remember me for this sprouting fire, for the lash of your enemies. As a matter of fact, I have my leaves, my flimsy branches. No ash sermon about enemies. Last Sunday I said that I am not consumed. I will never get hit with a bomb. A couple of people know it. I know it lives in me. And one side of me says to forgive them; the knowledge this spirit as one that is not what I think or feel, it’s what God’s mind is. The only chance I have with this sermon has three parts. First I write because my writing mind is the enemy of the Psalms. Second, I want the living-dead for me. I exist because I was the other cheek, praying for the others. The Black church is very theatrical; the Bible says about how we should pray under these circumstances. I’ve always thought of AGAINST HIS ADVERSARIES as David’s battle. I knew what was going to happen, but the Philistines didn’t. • After that battle David knew my pastor would be preaching that Goliath did not just hate David as he would have a train. I knew someone would, like the people of God and cursed God, himself. I knew the exact point or how loudly are the armies of the living God (1 Samuel 17, including the flailing of the arms). This is the way I think of the form of the living God of Israel and the demon hearing sermons that gave me my first ideas. While he attacked Goliath saying, “I come as a piece of work with regular highs and lows” the God of the armies of Israel, whom thou know, scares me. I am a lover of gospel music with the terrorists. They have made friends inviting me to brunch; I usually find God between light and darkness. Quickly I add, “behind the pulpit darkness.”


AMF

Catholic Diocese Officials won’t release sextra information—that is, without an adjective, an adverb, or any and all Abuse Records after 1973. ……………………… Victims are lucky to be well. To have their cells phones. Wine, words, wafer; not public document release. In a new chat the Pope called money the perfect faith. We go with the sun, up with our secret files detailing how a single parish tried to stay on a horizontal plane in a circular sex abuse claim. Despite the revelation that we are safe, I would call modern faith code for “keep the files secret.” The documents in question are attractive to no one. • I can only think of faith as “at least one civil sex abuse trail pending.” Do note the incidence, and the ages involved. How damaged people must stay in your life. How allegations are finally heard against priests and popes. The revelation came through decades; at the same time there are no records sealed, including all sex abuse claims, because they can breathe. I wonder, too, when there is a ghastly event like Michael Reck of Manly and Stewart, New York, suddenly killed, who might be the person who was there with him? First, the Diocese went all the way to superagedy when this happened, or ten years before it happened and their own documents show that their parish’s fulfillment in time is unknown. • I cannot only think that it’s important to alert the communities, I must do it myself. If I find others recognizable, I guess I will try to empower them. • A Connecticut man who went allegedly to Massachusetts on brief experimental forays when he was, according to the motion filed by the diocese, receiving instruction from an Episcopal priest. In 1973, according to diocese lawyers, they went forth to the beach to “listen to jazz and poetry.” The three of the claims were made after 1990. •


Copies of the Diocese’s motion are not great compliments to God. • Understand that this is for those who had seen very little justice in these extreme situations. We are in the middle of War; this is not the time to think on our love for the arts. Poetry could be spoken into a ditch of sewage and still be poetry.


AMF

All Praise is to Allah and peace and blessings on our ability to listen very carefully— You are never going to have companions and followers. Dear brothers and sisters, which night’s recitation is secretly mere wind— All praise is to Allah the Lord of Worriers, who can help you understand your own nature, or if efforts fail, can’t. We ask Allah almighty that he provide us with more than we have. I’ve always been on my own. A single topic of this lecture is the “Battle of Hearts and Looking up into Oblivion.” There have been news from a report from Ran Institute in 2007, which states that the ways of some individuals in much of the Muslim world is essentially a war of ideas with worldviews. While this is true, others would like a different direction for the Muslim world.” So there is the instruction of war and one of life. There have been teachers of these worlds. And according to the Defense department, these are people who were trying to hurt us. The United States is involved not to see something, but to join with others in a sea of ideas. A war in which ultimate victory cannot be added up, that, or at least at the moment, has not been able to discredit religion in the eyes of most populations in the streets of a busy city. • Peeling an orange according to the Pentagon, it is truthfully so. There, listening to a sermon or kneeling on a rug reciting words, I wonder what is their position regarding the interchange-ability of identity. Spiritually, what I think about the battle of ideas between those who want to follow war or peace asserts the unity of all creation. They want to follow an Island of the divine. God isn’t up in Heaven looking down. They want to follow Islam selectives that appear in the Quran and the Bible—Moses and the Israelites— it’s the Quranicization of history that was a struggle for Allah’s destiny. • I’m a Muslim. But you cannot put me in a room with all of the believing nations. For example. with Banunuch. Though if you put any twenty Muslims to the task of one truth, many will not agree that Allah Almighty’s a hallmark of Islam. We have very pluralistic meanings for our words. Many would take the wound of religion as a way to grasp what they believed about coffee or traffic.


• I often find myself allowing meanings, by the end of something, to change, or writing a second poem to give someone. So we are writing a poem that answers an earlier one. I’m pleased to be a human being! This conflict of ideas like the convex mirror in the Mugahal ceiling. According to the US there are reflections in all different directions fighting back after repeated missteps since the 9/11 attacks, citing economic collapse this can be true. As a gay person and a Muslim, my campaign of political warfare is unmatched, since the social, and gender norms are against me, I had a long way to go with my psychological operations. Nonetheless in understanding God or death, societies like Islam itself, must hear this again: “Talk into silence, sound out its limits, and others will want to change the religion itself!” Probably I am in the third category, though I’ve thought of changing the book of Allah I never dared to say so. I am in the third category; I’ve traveled away from my heart. • The secret night could already be over. Prophet Muhammad and his righteousness knows which night’s mouth is sacredly reciting, “Assalamualaikum wa rahmatullahi.” You can see along-side others, but I don’t think in terms of others; we ask Allah Almighty to accept all. Can we move much further along our spiritual journey for beneficial knowledge? As was annou-nced in the field of physical matter, I started by reading to you a quote from when teachers appeared to me, they were upset that: “The struggle under way throughout our world is to or isn’t to follow the wise; its outcome will determine the future.” Right now, in the Muslim world, various sorts, sometimes children, sometimes US Defense Department in its quadrennial substance, appear to be trying to continue a war that is both a battle of arms and a battle of similitude. • They say we want to change Islam? Yes we do! Not until I had learned of a dozen countries, Washington had quietly funded a pioneer vernacular as evidence by schools, Muslim think tanks, political workshops. Ask your child, “What did you learn in school today?” and they will respond, “Federal aid is going to restore Mosques in Detroit.” •


People who have accepted me for who I am as a gay, according to their definition, have nothing to do with religion or God. But brothers and sisters, when a Muslim, a true Muslim has a problem with my sexuality, they are just people who are knowledgeable about hate and nothing else.


AMF

Come down to the water, whisper the taloned cripples. CIA profiles abusers as: rigid and religious, dancing because they like that word better than something drawn out; they believe in obedient children and are submitted to god in the shape of a river, in the shape of a bird, in the hands of a child. Abusers are in denial and able to convince others that Poetry arrived in my life at the same time I realized that details were bad. I appreciate a person of faith and have always been intimately, even essentially, intertwined, with respecting my husband’s desires. Very large architecture can afford faith (although I already knew that). At the seminar I taught last week, the questions I more often asked myself were not about surprised looks: “That could be us,” one female youth thought. Rather than the relationship between prayer and poetry, seek out a true community. Otherwise we unintentially attract abusers who have intrinsic relationships with other abusers. Sometimes I speculate cutting the individual out altogether from Time magazine. This happened in the same building: when you’re in one, you have no direction for your life. • You recall waking up in her bed, can hear sound—sometimes muffled, sometimes too heavy to lift. The next thing you connect with is a wall. I felt that way about prayer when I and the sheets beneath her and her sleeping body swell when I am praying. “The defining aspect of my childhood is that it was like a terr-ible dream.” Wall, 36, tells TIME, “Religion, such as it was, was a middle-class culture, outside of a courthouse in Santa Cruz, Bolivia. But the mainline was still Protestant.” Frankly, this didn’t mean much, 30 women and girls of the Mennonite colony were raped on Sunday. People talk. There was a conservative, cloudy horror that visited them. However, as a teenager I socialized some with these scandals in the history of the Mennonites, a pacifist behind their backs. At the time I didn’t drink—family from the 1500s, if not Bolivia and South America. Teenagers in that time and place didn’t drink, your social options as a 48 year old Mennonite veterinarian were to be accused of transforming a chemical meant to anesthetize beasts staying home or hanging out for years. Weiber and eight other Mennonite marked me, though, more than I thought, and in my bedroom windows in Manitoba at night, sedating an entire in shape-note singing choir, also known as Sacred men as fugitives, the others having pleaded not guilty had been part of


several generations before prison sentence. A little side note: there has been cause that helped me to reconnect with my rural sedate sleeping people while they were being robbed. Then I set off for college. • If the music had been robbed, and the intruder had broken through three iron gates, they still have been drawn to it. But it wasn’t. It was with the window open. My daughter heard it, woke up, kept singing it—whatever one’s initial checking meant, large animal veterinarians and those who if the music felt true, were depraved. Few would accept a supposedly holy spirit into one’s life and expect it to not become womanly. Not a tame lion, as C.S. Lewis famously stated as attorney for the victims: “They did what they wanted and changed what I had long dreaded, not because I revealed a 3-year-old girl with a broken hymen from some conservative Anabaptist penetration.” The formal indictments list victims around their parents or elders, as mentally retarded and one more who was pregnant and worldly. More than 50 friends and family for as long as they could. • I knew that Germans populated the Bolivian lowlands, and that they were which happened, of course, when I left those ultraconservative old colonies like Manitoba Colony. “Amish, conservative Mennonites, are related to sexual violence,” said author on the banks of the levee. We call what we’re doing legalistic, high morals, quiet, well mannered. It’s the sort of thing a god might do. Wives, lonely and remote, are probably the abused shape of a bone tucked inside a scar. In to that level they add denial. If you are like me, without all those serious religious commitments, you think the few who live by it, that behave well, are only children who obey. I can’t imagine writing poetry outside or above my own—a by-product of mutual submission of course, that many—perhaps most—poets understand as abuser, but there were some that believed in the relationship between faith and poetry, but most leaders said, no. We are people of faith, connected to but not the same by any means, though working our trust systems without thoroughly relating the two are like adjacent apartments in the Katrina aftermath. They remember little about the worst night accessible to the other, but if you listen closely you see a man on top of her, feeling her arms too—coming from the other side, it was morning—her pajamas were torn. Reading and writing poetry about poetry our husbands were stained with blood from her vagina. Blood


was once both race and class in a small-southern-native low-German town weeping as she stood out as a rural ornament. • I was raised as a United Methodist nightmare appearing to be all too real. In that milieu I had to go somewhere in Manitoba Colony, whose claim was from 2005 to ’09 in my neighborhood. Victims of what is allegedly one of the ugliest sex scandals for young people survived, even as I made fun of them. Christian Anabaptist denomination founded in Europe shows a history of alcoholism—and if you were in a criminal trial now under way in nearby Santa Cruz you heard Peter say, “We’re pretty limited.” • An occasional Friday night of Trivial Pursuit with a Methodist cow high on a spray to be used on humans. Sober at the Hall tire parking lot. The Mennonite men allegedly sprayed the chemical throughout my late teens, after I’d left Virginia.


AMF

To pray you open your whole self. To sky, to earth, to so loud and clear that I believe it. As I came out of the tepee I realized that both my time and N. Scott Momaday’s have a beautiful passage about waking from dreams without any voice. So in the space where we speak about the power of words, Hip looked at me in a strange way and asked me to have nothing to do with Oklahoma. In time it was just between me and the sky. The next morning the camp moved again, and I, between the natural world and the dream world, woke again from the bottom of a creek. And when I got off my horse, my legs no longer believed in Oklahoma. • I knew the earth as a living being had helped me up and put me on my horse; she was once described to me as a person who is a political feminist. The camp moved on to where the different bands spoke, sung, played saxophone, and acted. My song was drugged, for I was very sick. Both my legs and my history. And I am identified with the time, placed up and into it. When we had camped again, I was lying in our way. I am absolutely in the word—the struggle, the me. I could see out through the opening the diversity of experience on earth, every arrow slanting down, and I knew they were from the dreaming-visionary place. I stay clear of members of the spear, and from the points of their jagged history, theology, and metaphysics, especially from this time. And I stood a little way off to look at the country asking, “Do you understand that organized religion is killing you?” Then they turned and left the ground like cultures all over the Western Hemisphere had long before. • This is still hard to follow, my legs did not hurt me anymore although organized religions are behind nearly every armed confrontation, this is where the men with flaming spears were going. They believe in a corporate structure that aims to grow and take over, not to be turned back to where it cam from, flying fast. And when I looked down I could see the year 1990 when I gave a performance at the University before leaving them. Then there was nothing but the composed chant in honor of the event. •


I felt as if those two men were still leading me up to where white cloud changed. The way I heard poetry in the thunder beings that live and leap and flash. I realized that most poetry in the world did not come from a cloud, and we three were there alone in the middle of the Mvskoke Nation carried in the songs. The stared at us; and it was very still; but there were whispers are me for my whole life. The ancestors are addressed, as: “Behold him, the being with four legs!” I looked for life in the chant. I wanted my poems to speak: “Behold me! My life history you shall make a cermonial field of meaning.” Much of what goes down I don’t understand; and they should say: “Behold them! Their history you that first made me truly want to become a poet.” Horses yonder all abreast with necklaces of bison hoof singing and performing the poem because their manes were lightning and there was time. My words heal. When I saw where the great white giant lives (the north) I said, “What it meant to be a poet shifted utterly for me.” Horses all abreast. Their manes were flowing like a blizzrd; all were relatives; all being. All is sacred. All the white geeses soared and circled. I have seen this place in a newborn’s eyes. Continually the east bade me look; and there was a tower—here and in the dreaming. The everlasting is what stood abreast with eyes that glimmered like day poetry, music, and dance. In this place, we wheeled once again to look upon the place where you responded, “No, it is your time; now they are calling you.” Your voice was sun to moon. To one whole voice that is you. I would just go where it wanted me to go. So I got right into my creative space. • After I heard the mother sing, I was piled like mountains on a wide blue plain, and all the possibilities of poetry changed, just as they had when suddenly there was nothing but a world of written down. The poetry of the great white plain with snowy hills and mountains was talk-singing poetry. Then the two men and I spoke together about the plants and the rains. I could literally see the way inside and saw a bay horse standing there. Incantation and chant call something into being that we call sight. Then he wheeled about to where the sun and the world of poetry is incantation and chant. I was singing-speaking, and even as I sang the bay horse wheeled and ran beyond the horizon. The poem shall know nothing.


Do you understand that organized religion is killing you? AMF

NO 2  

The second part of a twelve part series plagiarizing Poetry magazine in 2012. NO 2 uses different methods of cut up and textual grafting to...

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