my fifth hand

is a mean 'un
uncradleable

stave off the messing with your hands
make the noises is all

make 'em dandy
n small.

i've been pitching your port towns
north america

i've been stealing your baseball

tomorrow's just a phone
ringing ringing ringing ringing

so what answers for the machine at the end
can be your voice, or no

when the blue lights spin
everyone comes out a winner.

monday is formed like a hat from almost nothing and the light turns on

does leading your fist into the first thing
the morning presents
make you reconsider your positioning
in the world, or at least how you dance into being

today i was assessed as good
at teaching
which is better than not fit
and worse than very good and excellent

all the water mains are waiting underground
and you can do very little about what you have to dream

there are statistics to take care of the rest

botched sentences

i would like to create a forum for sentences that are mangled.
i would like your assistance in creating this forum.
this forum should be a friendly space where all misaligned and unintentionally wonderful sentences can gather and shake hands and get on with their bad selves. like dancing at the no pants party. er, wait.

but for serious. blotchy sentences, too. bring em.
or don't.

i want to build a crow.
i want to forcefield.
but bring the song you thought you knew and its wrong lyrics.
or what you heard the cats say from the other room.

Thank you, Steve. Thank you.

sitting in your office as you leafed through
sheets and sheets of paper--

the window open and your slow eyes
poring over the words on the page. You held

cigarettes and student writing with a slight tremble
as you worked through them both with the same measured

moves--something dangerous and light
to pull inside and let spill from your mouth

at all the right sounding turns.

Here to change the keys

a line of punches for the student face
which is all face
and about

a series of underlapping phrases
the kind a court can tangle (can't angle)
the kind a ness don't want
(loch ness don't work)

a serious disregard for jangle
the pits and letters part
stiff the morning stars

a hour named less for liking
the stick in belt for thin
the noise of rocks on glass
(a drinking thing gone when)
(the noose of rooks is class)
a castle crowned in pith

a line of punches for the baghead
my face in all the days
the last core a door creates

get it punchline--in the mouthright?

The settle November

tom waits sings gravel about this month and i want to eat everything, including the 26 grams of fat contained in a newly minted mcriblet. but refrain.

steven karl's chapbook is up at InDigest (which if you search for improperly, you get this) as one of their favorites from 2010 and i'm very happy to see this! seriously, and i've said this on the book of faces, if you've not seen him read and can, do. he's stellar both on and off the page. not to discount any of the other people we've published at fgp, by any stretch of the imagination, but he's bringing it when he reads.

i've got to get back to posting photos, which means i've got to start taking them again, which means i'm not paying attention to things as much as i used to with my eyes.

on another note: some words.
here's to making lists and scratching things off their faces.