Knock hard on your view the objectsymptomatic of farmers or livestock

This morning in a boatthe quarry.

The water tower after the sentry’s watch ended, his fly undoneand quail eggs falling forward

On the blazing wheat fieldsor some blue

Throws your hands in the air, commissarwhere duck-bills

Roughly brilliant and swankyshooting

Open the egg timer handily but the pen brokeall of this a moment ago, gone

His venetian blindswhile perjury

The son of the heir sued the tailorI suppose. If pennies come through the roof

A man with a letter C, a sharkold hand at it

And surrendered to the hundredand the marlins fall on the deck

All of thoseisn’t worth a powder.

Eating on the ceiling or looking, singingcalling my shale garden

A man with a letter C, or nota fluid ounce of

The doughy punter was soLovely. She’s the gardener

You and your croutons youmostly gone.

The red wine idiot drunk bugsquietly sleeping or burnishing

Or where sortinghandrails

Soap on the wharves, who’s bootyand towels drying on the roof-tops

The long frostyamong flutists. Among pianists

All of this, cellists came downmade all the difference in November

Or was it a christmas crullerstrung too tightly

One of them was saying that the bodytoo roughly while marlins fell

Lived in secretshe polishes my shoes.

The world drawsShe polishes my shoes and zeroes

A man with a letter C last easterI keep

Or the headache a bird lives withlovers of ham hocks locking bumpers

A cute butt and toeswhile no bread leaves

The forms shave themselves away like an ice blockShe’s asiatic or agrarian

One buckle left overlosing the battles

On the forgotten toilet paper,or the pimentos crushed her house

Only bank notesnothing but gladiolas

At the back of the roach motel.stolen, only Ballantine ale, the saviour

Our registerscalliope. Mr. Shugarth,

He paints elephants the momenta mongrel dragging away the tent

The morselopinionated or owls

—And why can’t you turn on the sink or the tubthe mailbox blown down the street

To this hoand cinnamon

Starlit mayoralitygrazing where she kissed her husband

Your money,or good morning

Yes you tell yourself you’re the teller seriouslykettles and kettledrums or a sidewinder

Apricots layon the football field

When you were called by pigsIs this boring you? There’s more

Moishe answered your letters by 5 o’clockduck feathers

So what the o my beautiful dittyand swallows with tin cans

Who are you trying to manhandleposting up

What I’d throw down into the mayhem laughingwhile the train filled with marlins

Of my amounts, loves, foxesand so-and-so who is still talking.