MARTY MEMBLEM

to be taught
righteous, riotous,
your hand in my sand
my billowing, running sand.
she and her sad of course
to be taut

  your running off on me
your running off onto me.
your run off onto
  you're running, about to.
I have a point
to point to the purposeful.
you're a rock, you're a cane
you're a beet
red pulse-baby, my made hands.
how do you destroy months
how do you tangiblize months
how do you blend
them, yours, mine
how do you make a new calendar from them,
how do you tick days
click lick lick lick swish,
 flourish


I'm smoking herbs and pot rolled up into a joint, I'm in my room
on hickory st in new orleans, there is a candle, a scene.
globebook,
thermos,
gravitas.
mardi m emblem
beautiful lighting
peach curtains in the breeze
songs to get high to
songs to cry or wail to
to drive to
my table.
so another words,
succulent, rememberful
  = sentimental
riesling with berries, bugs
collie in frog position
dangling from the fan
coon tail, lavender crocheted jellyfish (nickey)
pink & brown cabin rugs

waits

if for nothing but the
yours and yours
  truly

<<<<<<<<<<<--------->!@3

I wrote a poem at you in my sleep but I forgot it instantly

there is always a you in the you I talk about 

spurts of months ago

acid wash

the act of being worn out

I dreamt I was to do the charleston in an auditorium of people but my dress was too long, and or I also was wearing pants beneath it (the long thin breaths in a bed beside me in real life) so I called, tiny voiced, Wait, and of course I'm dreaming of all of my bags and luggages, filled with things like ski pants, the hippest new threads for shredding the gnar-gnar on sale now in Hailey, Idaho. I parked my car next to the dancefloor and half an our of my changing into flouncy layered skirts I was asked to move it, I was skipped, relieved. I had sex with an obese black man who'd come from the Twin Cities to find me. some grandparents almost wouldn't let him in. analysis: I'm moving, don't know where I am have all of my things billowing from backpacks & car don't want to go skiing don't know black people lament for being missed don't know how to dance but want to be before a crowd

analrapist

therapist

it's overcast & so am I

at this internet cafe

fresh out of bed

fresh dirt sheets, chill out I'll wash them

we've jobs to do to end a vacation 

ants in the bedlam.