Sunday, June 1, 2008

Jill Jones


look at the sun
along the off-white
afternoon over my shoulder

speaks through heroic ideal
shivered beauty

lashed by cold light
your questions
lip air

go out
fall to ruin
walk ordinary matter


Rising with air, breath's desperate agesl
oud music carries all its times
with smoked out clarity as well

Nerves flower out my bare need
knowledge, I found skin, and underneath
day slowly wears, moved by turn

And clouds don’t ‘need to know’
and being moves a new overlay
out here the valley, goes how


I’ve left my attitude with a slew of energy
the dope in me ducks, sure tastes bitter

A familiar song - we shall never part
Remember the verb that got away

Forget your sex, taste then lips
along the off-white, apparel falls away

Petals bruise my hand
after a wave of wild correspondences

No page entirely contains my wandering breath
Even the air is a strange grain

You must slip stealthily into the ventilator
the dollar will be normal after that

But, wait, don’t press my buttons, cast them aside
Let's shut up and dance


poet wanders the page

chasing a trail through poems
fugitive ghost
phantom presences aura

what is noise in the poem
the subjective relation to others

what is important in a poem

at the edges

And Then The Ongoingness

a trace
at the point
wherea poem

differentiates itself from

of experience
the fragmentary or

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