Monthly Archives: August 2012

fn the meter’s stuck in traffic to Miss Julie, the backend’s pack’d with cigarettes & bags of cats unruly, take off your shoes — let’s hoof it — & text Act II to Souza

I’m promise to the promise of the yonder man as long ago I found him, if near or far, I understand — he is that man, he knows the song, he’ll tune it gold the ruins of, the builder of the road thereon — there is a man

why tambourines & safety nets, to do t’ai chi on trampolines with sailors, their wrinkled whites reflect the lights,  if that’s all right there was a moon, in Cameroon — or was it nearer Mozambique — Oh, what’s the use, let’s Timbuktu

always a sale on in Taiwan, coupons & clippers & Ceylon, ‘tho it’s wrong, I’ll worry o’er the celeries, & stir the rice, I’m sure that’s right, O bother me, there’s Swiss chard there above the bowls from Annam

&  it’s diced everso slowly when you choose it over julienn’d, & Suzie’s refusing her hand, she is, & does that clatter & tines on the table set just right, so don’t mind the processor then