Wednesday, April 23, 2008

dclxxxiv

Sometimes I tell the words
writing the words
GET OUT THE DOOR!
A certain mass
remains in the writing.
Getting through the door
just past midnight,
lapsed architecture
(Sears Tower
a Dunkin Donuts and also
the desert poem.  Disob
stuff I’ll shut off.  Like
light.  Watch nothing.
I am home.