“I can’t wait for your death

any longer human

Currently the Lethe takes you

in your pleasures

and successes

hopes dreams

and personalities.

Your were so ripe

Now cold blue

why do you smile

Are you

as ready as I am

to see you off?”

 

The boat trudges on.

The river curls

its lickity fingers at the woman fleshes

turning excited

and impatient.

The boat begins to slosh

violently the bow

dipping harder now.

“Pleeeeeeeeease beeeeee wiiiiiiiiith meeeeeeeeee . . .

your life

is a floooooooooowerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr . . .

I’ve been awakened

by your scent

It reminds me

of an ocean

I once knew

I release you

from your dark coffin blues!”

Her eyes open

once

close

open twice a little more

This time she rises

the river still

Her eyes spark

with hunger

and her body jumps

up without gravity

Flying her blue bird form

reflecting off the Lethe

The tide withdraws

for another to pass.

Today’s Writing Prompt

h0w yur marriag3 unravel5 

writing poems

the university wastes its time on me (charlIeepsteIn) 

fuck the things i carry on my checklist conscience

that could be a Tuesday essay about Monday masturbatory girlfriend crisis about a 
coulda-been job we erect Sunday’s morning-mullers they just take our coffee bean

bag automated cashier substitutes the human suspended by her busty brassiere could be

the sole source for the coffee sandwich w/ soy conformity my evil plan

watta funk the unhip hop gods gott me in

shoelace floppin like dreads ungiving a shit about

leglaces gooffin like dead spun stilt in front of stilt across

soft silt the color of red sun when eyes called be closed

soft silt laid down mattress-style fingers up and down and up yr back and down and  

down the highway gotta car now got to get gas soon now rot

expressions rot inspuration raise unallowed expectation ruin

ruining Boulder’s beauty-refundraiser thousands search for everyday so

stupid to believe in the chance of greatness is on a seat in front of a whiteboard behind a 
professor blah blah blah blah blah blah blah through the thousand dollar months

the I wastes its money inside the academy
the dead pan voice unversed

the splish splash of overflown bathtub these preoccupations slip slop out the heels

the I mute full of the unversty

Four

Ingrid is Eric

Study of Spring

Study of Spring

Suddenly, everywhere a newborn baby.

Natural wouldn’t give a shit

if you got snared in a thorny bush.

In fact,

This natural born killer hunts your

calcium bones

For all its soil. 

Nature will blow you down

a mountain on Monday,

Make prickle your descent

of a hill, small cacti

scattered. sets its

mosquitoes to your flesh.

Who is to blame for

Our dynamite war?

That sun who beams dryness

through our veins

while it hides water deep

in a mountain on Monday.

Why Our pavements

so upsetting to

Nature? Hardly, Our metal velocity

so downput by unbridged waters and

gaps in a jungle. Testify the climbers lose grips

and the river swimmers drown.

Look! The athletes of Earth

flee to their membership gyms,

every type of injury

categorized by square computers

Cannot compete with the wisdom of the wind

that moves sand dunes like ocean waves.

Want a higher purpose?

Go to school, read our books and

we will purpose you.

Want to purpose? Walk 30 miles West

build Nature into a hut

and make it your

bitch.

very

writers say dont use it. but i think it's very okay

very revised

(having revealed the dude was damn arrogant, arrogant like an arrow / Her Responsibility

  

            The handwriting on the wall narrows down at the breakfast in bed.

Mom sings to hovering pancakes

this golden Sunday morning like a brown nipple. I’m going to be fed.

Late I rise, up the ceiling lowers

the start of a modest day. Those upturned glasses sat on their back all night,

the same way our turtle choked on vomit. . . Jacob really messed up.

Anyway, I finish my meal and sprout to the next,

a cup of joe to get on with it.

Had to have gone on with it, no matter what the what.

Life for me has been, well, accommodated

so I am comfortable. The handwriting on the wall highly recommends

I take a break

so, I am comfortable with not much else to do but a pile of dishes

            Hello chap, could you kindly fetch me the paper. . .

thank you much. As I was saying,

the words come as easily as the Jewish money, the connection being that

moola makes language, to and fro, a boat ride. You know all too well,

do you? Okay then the poem ends here

            it’s not too late!:

The bed )on the wall narrows down on the hand

writing about breakfast. )Going towards Mom who hovers over sun day more ning,

who sings these gold enbrowned )piles of mourning me. . . feeds me

the vomit of his turnup turtle, )a real choked up

mess. Those meals lower modest, down )Jake’s gullet, be it a cup of nipple

that any brown dish of joe can sprout to a sunup )sputter and it wouldn’t

matter any way you read this, with glasses or on your )back—

            You will puke and go back to sleep )just like the turtle finished,

comfortable )for life. I accommodated, so

much )the High Hand reccommendated, what, not a pile of pancakes.

Take on )so kindly a break, could you

much. )The paper fetches the chap, thank it. Was. . .

I )saying the Jewish boat ride connection came with

money ‘la moo? )You do know the poem too, and fro, and where

it ends

--- Yesternight. from,

Charlie: ‘With welcome we

disport through the sinuous

assembly, a ceiling

over the head, unnerved’

Cole Swensen poem

"and the body between word and world fuses, frays" (Such Rich Hour, Cole Swensen)
and the time between an hour's utterance and
       the hand full of potential energy at 12
and the people in the city streets know
       the verses of the day, it will end at 5:30,
for some

I hope, one day, the clocks are burnt like jesus.
       Then we all won't know what to fucking do no more
the doing scheduled appointments, morning announcements,
newspaper n shit

morning poem

Eyecrusties
little green jewels, am we.
morning we see, night we born.
Fingies hate us, kill us
green little jewels. Squishy yet tough
You get rid of us, but you cannot for
              You are a factory of we.