Hall - Conjugation

These fields picked-clear hoof & rut sown for grazing make a peace by collapse with the clenched woodlots driving alone to ruminate on highlands & settlements I venerate bog geometry each slumped compromise I pull over & wade out into corn stubble mud rows blue thistle bull thistle here a box-stove door still readable where scrub-cedars burst to retake hard-won fallow I pet fuzzled royal mould on split-rails gone spongy in the shaking amanita caves of the high pasture butternuts on land owned but almost not owned a border forgotten vouches for me & I climb over my baby toes have only claws to be ignored is my legitimacyI am a stagnant churning high & briefall is tough-titty mulch & shade Early ideot amonugfog litfs spelling improves foraging along the sh between words old eurekas cadential dromenon ~ Vacant lug-nutted the striped lots full stadiums waving bellowing equal incipit this page founded on shush foundered by a few tiny arcs letters curls of let wait wit wait a song grows a nail from a moo/ a mo/ ~ Early can still catch out writing at its oldest posture to set down care alone & quiet matters personal defiant fleet to dare from self-loathing the eternal & then erase it I want little more have always wanted the littles more now than another morning to say whats been said already another morning to waste figuring out uselessly how to stick in somewhere here screws for dragonfly lights (a note I found) I want this in my poem is all & ruin at bay for my loved ones ~ Awake before daylight out back again blind listening past the wet grass that black clump is trees in the swamp the peepers have turned their little slime Singers up again treadle peg & awl treadle peg & awl praise & desperation aim & itch a 1-on-1 row-yr-boat that wins & wins & wins at nothing possible any syllable repeated now can seem like what them new frogs are trying to translate another undo-able brevet from Lao Tzu sew dew, eye so do I sew dew-eye so, do I? ~ This morning I couldnt sleep & was up too early binning the ashes when I grated against the black horse again a muzzle-hair/ quill a tar-dipped brush-tip its sway unwelted by any saddle night nigh steam-close quivering not a horse a horse-wolverine a panther-moose a lamprey inside me I would ride yet hide most mornings I am almost on it or off it as grey light comes over the trees no first greyness suggests tree-ness then grey light suggestifies pines then daylight specifies white pine ~ Bay-by-bay gung-ho mufflers trace the lake & now our freight-local shunts its fool sepia through town insects in the in the in the where wet nests a dank under-rush this pencil scritching along a voice dressing up as a cricket an equivocation in nor out a finding of go-stays ~ Wake up creased sharp take a pill a remember when old drinking-wound my ribs in our bay the lake frozen 12" thick & gauzed at dawn by more fresh night-snow a deer has stepped from the island to our dock & back almost in the same split hoof-holes out past where ice-fishing wells might augur a perforated line pricks light grey-green black roust new cross a page again untorn unfolded ~ Orange chair blue porch white Stetson am re-reading Cold Mountain translated by Red Pine woke to fog a cremation dream it is garbage day Olson: words made to taste like accuracy pincers the king birds are back an osprey shrieks in the wooded swamp ice reigns yet first the school bus no motor no driver passes only one child so far up front then the Trueloves would it hurt them to signal bastards despair is elitist do not count pages forget the workw & k both built from 2 Vs or 3 end up with only or deface the cartoon until the joke is fearful ~ Sh that horse head nailed above the archway recites its old riddles to me only now early under my cheap lamps shade a hum dust these madrugar Ive written of late feel raw briary leprechaun-ish a few yammer loony-zoned like Mr Ed the talking horse or remember Francis the army mule who only talked wwii vaudeville to Donald OConnor who? the Wheel-Trans drivers will soon be up the school buses idling their manifolds & cabs warmed just enough baby bottles knocking in pans on stoves 5:17 blur a m Je mets tout de ma vie, jadore a.Baiser la nuit, son bord, cest ma cuisine. (Marie tienne) me Im tired of listening to everything that once spoke nonsense other-true help! again white establishes light as the list-all & straighten-all protect us! Saint Syntax pulls the usual stale treats from his robe predicate / modifier bribes in each line b-right logic a silencing sh ~ At the extremity of this design privilege is misspelled no its not noits not ~ A first draft blind in its pride snubs the glistening crossroads of its foliage we were tightened by a primmer under-alphabet how-to-behave nodding along to the 1% milk-of-human-kindness white baton ~ I have at last no face for fact but theres a fee a fee that sees & hears wonky fe-ces were were subtler / fugues etc until I get scared & take it all back too far ashamed of plays ruthlessness biting my lip green dawn akimbo ~ Equitable hodge ego rip another Little Square-One ready to send out stinking of metaphor noise that says I am edible because I hunger from gnat to natter the mouth healing shut its words fallen back into it the lake over the leap to not take the bait the beat ~ In the morning the poem solves everything in the afternoon it stinks & I stink too the little structural satisfactions have to be broken so the trite suck of my ego at play in a line is exposed for the pander & cop-out it tries but if the poem works in defiance of me I cant explain how by pointing at anything about myself or what I studied posit no archeological fallacy chuck the vinyl ~ Watching from above the depot the faces of those who have just gotten off who are being met the stinking dock sloshing they loosen they risk anticipation hey