New American Writing

Nung river

October 21, 2009 · 1 Comment

river

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Trees in a Field on Way to a Wedding in Litvínov

October 5, 2009 · Leave a Comment

trees3

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The insurance of a man with a half bag and stinks with no teeth

September 24, 2009 · Leave a Comment

The insurance of a man with a half bag and stinks with no teeth,
if you look at him, not long…

Here I was, as I could, take out my teeth, faith,
and suck blood by covering my mouth,
and setting a fast straight ahead.
Let me lie in the park, commit crimes, break my feeling for them,
falling on my power.

No cloth would about me, no woman or no man
to watch a man with a spitting tick who talks to himself,
who is standing up and watching me.
And this is when the strongest level of liberty finds me,
across a spitting man, smoking dark at hair and skin,
finds me and the next, another shadow passes.
This one wears a very beautiful sweater and
a bottle of tea and he is in a dream at me, well away with alcohol,
waving an arm at just behind me.

No mans will not see, says,
the sauced man, but the single wide
theater of my brain watches that
and what a man waters, trees near by the train
where there’s a tube that leads beneath the tree.
I watch the men who have slipped, who talk now a lot to me.
They are alone, are black from the street and
park sat top sewer grates.
If I would smell them, if I would harm enough to stick
my nose against them, their hair,
the smell would change my writing.

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My imagination slowly becomes nothing, and steadily

September 11, 2009 · Leave a Comment

My imagination slowly becomes nothing, and steadily.
Lines on me wrap around ourselves, chances do
not come. I watch the horses, but find instead
to watching a child by his father watching the horses.

This child contains a great square, nothing repeats on him.
Nothing lies across the lock like my father.
What supports me wrapt around me,
till nothing stops my way from falling me.

The child was a horses, a great square.
Nothing repeats. Nothing across his lock.
Instead the child by his father watches horses.

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It is possible to watch at beauty as at birds

September 8, 2009 · Leave a Comment

It is possible to watch at beauty as at birds
from low behind an obstacle, through fingers,
and lie down in the book and record
both in the visual book and the book about the sounds.

That you would record and feel the cold leafy level
where I lie and write from cold on the belly.
It’s cooler and it’s not the heat.
It’s not the heat but my fingers
around the binding, the hard cover of what I’ve written.
While it is done here, where no one’ll find,
it’ll come once when another has to read it,
not under crackly leafy shady front like this again,
but under full blonde and golden.

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Do the Great World with words that are tens

September 7, 2009 · Leave a Comment

Oh course, lay down.
Do the Great World with words that are ten, and men nothing,
you don’t even know, is full of dangers, are beautiful.
So lie over cars to the Great World.
Where I live the white is back.
Where I coming towards with a white back of pure.

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Could and come and by the wilders sit

September 4, 2009 · Leave a Comment

Could and come and by the wilders sit,
I am sitting well and looking, and stir, and make.
A young lady come in the store where,
for and all the true seconds,
a second child full of yellow.

If by the second time I were right,
and doing forward and moving what I knew was print
and feeling how if and God I knew
where all the print through went,
and all the curves by my mom dads,
will you reviews?

You are dark and dark.
If you will go on down and drawn,
and make my roads toward deaths,
will you make the rest of the world water
by the blue light in the pond,
and make a manger of the blonde?

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As do what lightning from you momma

September 3, 2009 · Leave a Comment

As do what lightning from you momma.
What I am who cannot but writing in his book, that thinks only his.

Great impact that someone calls back to you,
you stalls as precious vision.
On by sitting from you momma,
as jaw to run with open over line, to eye with eyes,
to widen open, to behalf on someone worked.

I have no my now allusion to grace,
to eyes that’em with, over time.
Increase in vision past vision, past power,
through what calls to writer vision,
who knews what call this writer.

If these three simple are do, and I drew a palm,
I knew how I’d see you soon,
was how of palms I’d sat and dreamt,
and I know the palm how it were signs,
the like where I was,
how I were far from where I will spend those palms,
where I’d pedaled to with flame, where I will lose,
where at the pedals dark and warm my lever lay.

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At home it seem to me after school to solve language

September 3, 2009 · Leave a Comment

At home it seem to me after school to solve language, college.
How may before it was broken dialects, it was said,
must have been to me no better, dreams of homes
as possible homes of difficulties.

Where am I going to, and where am I writ to a man paged?
What still then the rest of me? How my going to get there?
What have now my legs fight with me towards, and why I feel them
in all their eyes, still then see’d over the road where I now know?

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The power when I school and watch the power

September 3, 2009 · Leave a Comment

The power when I school and watch the power,
light present in a younger place, that means we son or daughter
knowing true live and future.

There want be a provider, this is scores of people how we’d lighter.
I guess for a kid of life is class, which pounds of grains, as not to need
Persians, the Indians, thousand-year Chinese.
No more innocent points to gain, memory of history beyond the many of history.
Numberless ages over their part of America, above a thousand years.

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