�����
A silk hat on a Bradford
millionaire.
Continental System
what does it want
it fancies
oh with a reader it might could read
a Landseer
it might go a touch or two
in a night need
if it could might recall the same
divorcement
�
quarantine corral
the wild buckaroos and vaqueros linger
tracing and being traced
it is a golden opportunity
to have been backtracked into a firewall
and the cold city berefted
�
purple sage
if I could've taken into buildings
a tour party and seen into them
what've I seen that could compare
with those labels and memorabilia
exactly of an occupation force
�
dry gulch
those conundrums dictate you from above
into puddles hot night
and local fauna
the flora can only be imagined
with second sight
�
a little town
out of the craters rises this
a congeries or nunnery
of hopeless delectation
out of this symbiosis
a wayward westness
Ansel Adams would have burned into this
a memory or dodged a certain blankness
�
main street
also it would have seemed a stage set lit
against the night with expressions of mythic milk
in a medium range of stars
but for the ruin
�
the astonied look
what is this cartoon range of events
as in a storyboard
it goes up and comes down in all but name
the kiddie rides are down the street
that was once
a farmer registers the playground
bullies and background
�
waystation
one false move
and an accidental virtuosity
is forced upon us
out of the blue sky hills and all that
comes a parvenu street that's opposite
it is remaindered
questa commedia il duce
with the broad-brimmed brows
and at the back or center
Pocahontas
�
amphitheater
how you arrive
dodging this and burned by that
or the other way around
pale ocher light
not without indications
and other signs
and here is the story
my story and yours
there once was a man
�
a tale that is told
parsimoniousness
wrecked the greed
you see
half-mast among the flags
of what remains
to Blarney Castle and environs
�
crepuscular
down away the sheltering palms
here's the ticket museum already
and you go on inside
there's the highway
away from whatever
that was
�
rondo
Luke the barn
they would say the impressionists
I met a fellow new at a gas station
in the South Bay
Arnold Schoenberg's spitting image
it's just a preserve
not very carefully preserved at all
that was a city
whether you think the barn was a new match
or quite impossibly slow
it went and goes they all go slow
and quick
�
turnstile
I don't know any about you
that clinches it
one way or another
here she is comin' round the mountain
or gazing up at it
�
disposited
if I could arrange all that
in flowers and rows
at a certain price
if I could imagine all that
I would if any do that
you know
but if I blistered it
for sure
I couldn't remember
that's that
�
the last outpost
oh detonate it those skyrockets
let the bland �sthete in his comfortable position
recoil to a safer stand
�
coming and going
impermeable Mary so be it
so the moves parley and move
parley and move or not
as the case may be
in the comfortable handgrip
of good counsel
