Raw Goods

there is more nothing than real

Grave beds caught their most abundant and characteristic form,
changed completely many times. All I want extends over the limits,
incandescent jets diametrically opposed to internal strains and stresses,

compromise of claw changes while I find
comfort
as an obscene animal on my knees in river gravel.

Suppose many caves preserve skull and tooth
whose black sockets scream, scream,
scream
over the Monterey Bay of beer cans and bullet holes,

where locomotives howl
and all fences affix one second
forever.

there is more nothing than real

posted by judy j @ 11:42 AM